Selkie's Revenge (19 page)

He grasped her by the arms. “It’s an invisible island, Beth. There’s nothing easy about it. Number one, we’d have to find the blasted hellhole. Number two, we’d be surrounded by finmen. This is insane! I might as well just deliver you to him in a fucking wheelbarrow!” He didn’t know whether to shake her or hug her hard. He settled for sputtering at the sight of her bare legs. “And would you please put your jeans on before I go berserk!” He grabbed the throw from the couch and wrapped it around her waist before his brothers could ogle her any more.

No. This was a fool’s plan, one that made his stomach lurch in revulsion.

Beth, her jaw clenched, slapped his hand away as he tried to protect her modesty. “Since when is this your call?” she shouted. “You don’t own me!”

“Own you?” If Mack had been wearing a blood pressure cuff, it would have popped off. She wore his mark. And once they made love in the sea, turning Beth into a selkie as well, they would be true mates. He had yet to divulge that particular detail. But still, she was his and he was hers, and in his eyes, as old-fashioned as they may be, he was in charge. “I will not do anything to endanger you. Full stop.”

She pulled herself to her full height, trying to appear Herculean. Which was just ridiculous seeing as she was wearing his T-shirt, a blanket, and not much else. Still, a part of him was proud of her for fighting back. He was glad to see she had some fight left in her. “This is not your choice, Mack. I want to do this. I want to fight him. I want to hurl that charm back in his horrid face and tell him to go to hell.” Her eyes watered, and she laid a soft hand on his chest. “I want to be with you. And if we don’t do this, he’ll keep coming after me.” A huge sigh rippled through her frame. “He’s stolen so much from both of us.”

Mack gathered her in his arms and pressed his lips to the side of her head. He kissed the spots of hairless skin that he’d come to love, letting his tongue graze over the delicate patches. “I won’t have a moment’s peace, Beth, for fretting about you.”

She turned her gaze to him, her brow furrowed. “It’s like that now. We need to free ourselves of the finman. For good.”

Mack considered it. A battle to end all battles. A chance to launch his poisoned arrows into the heart of his enemy. It would be an end to his ghost-like existence and an opportunity to finally lay Anne to rest and start a new life with Beth.

If anything happened to his mate… Big Ben sounded inside him once again with a frightful, foreboding toll. “I don’t know.”

Edan coughed and approached them, laying a hand on his brother’s shoulder. His voice was a soft baritone, an exercise in selkie persuasion that might work on the lasses, but not with Mack. “Look, Eddie gave me the name and address of a local wise woman. The descendant of the witch who helped the woman centuries ago. Mack, let’s at least talk to her.”

Jamie slurped his coffee from his spot at the counter. “Settled. We’ll visit the witch, bring Beth back to the clan homestead, and teach the lass to fight. This’ll be epic.”

Beth smiled over at Jamie, her face lit up with clear excitement and adrenaline.

And Mack tried desperately to ignore the torturous churning in his belly.

* * * *

“Are you sure this is the place?” Beth looked at the building in front of them, a storefront with pictures of houses in the window and a stylish floral display out front. The ruffled awning declared the place to be Kirkwall Realty, and the colorful banner below said WHERE YOUR DREAMS ARE OUR DREAMS.

“Yep,” confirmed Edan. “Eddie told me we’d meet with a woman named Ingrid Gustavsen. Number 11, St. Olaf’s Wynd.”

Mack stood beside her, his arm curled around her waist, his fingers splayed over her abdomen. His arm had grown tighter with each step down the stone streets of Kirkwall. At this point, Beth worried he’d end up squeezing her like a boa constrictor. He lifted his lip in derision. “Doesn’t look very witchy to me.”

“Give it a chance,” Beth urged.

“Well,” Jamie said, reaching for the door, “let’s not stand here like a bunch of shy lasses at a school dance. Let’s go meet the witch.” He opened the door, and a tinkling wind chime announced their entry.

Beth looked about the small office, which didn’t appear any different from any other realtor she’d ever seen. A couple of desks. Housing brochures dealing with the Orkney market. A coffeemaker on a table in the corner. Still, there was a certain crackle in the energy of the room, and she couldn’t help feeling she was being watched.

Within seconds, she heard a
click
of heels on the tiled floor coming from a room in back. They all looked up. A woman emerged from the back office, smiling in welcome.

Jamie leaned over to Beth and whispered, “She doesn’t look like a witch.”

She didn’t. The woman appeared about fifty but had keen hazel eyes that made her seem young and old at the same time. She was dressed as a professional, with a coordinated blazer and skirt and a ruffle of a blouse underneath. Numerous gold necklaces adorned her wrinkle-free neck. Her blonde hair was up in a chignon Beth could never achieve with her own hair. Although her expression was friendly, the glint in her eyes was wary.

“We’re looking for Ingrid Gustavsen,” Beth said.

“I’ve been expecting you, Beth.”

She took a step toward the woman. “You know us?”

She reached for Beth’s hands and clasped them in her own. Beth started at the sizzle of electricity there.

“I know many things, love.” Ingrid nodded toward Mack and the others. “I know this is your selkie man and his brothers. And I know you need my help.” She angled her head toward the back room. “Now, unless you’re actually here to buy a bungalow, I suggest we withdraw into my other office.” She led the way into the back room.

The second office seemed more appropriate to a witch. The walls were lined with old, gold-spine books and loose manuscripts, yellowed with age. There were dried herbs hanging from spots on the ceiling, and charms, the likes of which Beth had never seen, decorated the walls. There was a desk in the middle of the room and a few extra chairs, which seemed to indicate Ingrid did indeed serve customers here as well from time to time. And there was a sweet, cloying smell in the air that Beth could not identify. Ingrid sat at her desk and indicated the other chairs. “Please, sit.”

Mack settled in next to Beth, still holding onto her hand. He sniffed. “You’re also in real estate?”

Ingrid’s smile was placid. “There’s not much call for wise women these days. A girl’s got to pay the rent. Now, my ancestors did a thriving business. Of course, they were also paid in chickens and goats.” She stared at Beth. “You wish to know how to get to Hildaland. Finman troubles?”

Beth swallowed. “You could say that.”

“Ah, the finmen. Not my favorite characters.” She paused, rested her elbows on the desk, and steepled her fingers. “You’ll need to return the charm.”

“And if he won’t take it back?” Mack asked, his voice deep and calm in a way that made Beth shiver.

“He doesn’t need to take it back,” Ingrid replied. “Beth needs to bury it on Hildaland, in the earth of his home. The magic will compel him to obey.” She narrowed her eyes at the selkie men. “It’s fortunate that you have selkie friends, Beth, because getting to Hildaland is not the simplest thing to achieve. You’ll need good swimmers on your side.” She nodded at Mack. “Are you familiar with Mermaid’s Mound?”

“I am. The rock sits about thirty kilometers out from Scapa Beach.”

“I’ve never heard of Mermaid’s Mound,” Beth said.

Ingrid arched a penciled-in eyebrow at her and grinned. “Lass, there are places in Orkney the mortal eye will never see. Another good reason you have selkies on your side.” She continued reciting her directions for Mack’s benefit. “When the moon is high, you must swim with Beth to Mermaid’s Mound. Now, the mermaids will try to … distract you from your course.”

“Real mermaids?” cried Beth, horrified and fascinated at the same time.

Ingrid let out the throaty laugh of a chain smoker. “Aye! If selkies can exist, why not a mermaid or two?” She directed her keen gaze back at Mack. “You’ve dealt with mermaids in the past, I take it?”

Beth turned to Mack, her arms crossed over her chest, very eager to hear his response. He fidgeted in his chair and avoided her accusing glare. He cleared his throat. “Once or twice.”

Beth couldn’t resist teasing him. “And how have you
dealt
with them?”

Jamie and Edan elbowed each other, trying to stifle laughter that would not be stifled.

Red in the face, Mack glanced at her. “That’s a story for another day.” He reached over and squeezed her hand, grinning.

“All right, lovebirds,” Ingrid interrupted, “let’s continue. Mack, the mermaids should not present any trouble if you bring them a bauble of some sort. The gaudier, the better. They’re like finmen in that respect. They have a taste for shiny things.” She shook her head, clearly having forgotten the jewelry she was wearing around her own neck. “Once you’ve given a gift to the mermaids, climb onto the rock. The rock will reveal the direction of Hildaland, the invisible island, but it requires a blood sacrifice first.”

“I’m not spilling a drop of Beth’s blood,” Mack interjected.

“Don’t fret, selkie. Any blood will do. Bring a weapon and cut open your own hand if you prefer. Sprinkle a few drops of blood onto the rock. Once the blood absorbs into the stone, a light will shine toward the sea.” She smiled as if she were merely giving directions to the butcher shop down the road. “Hildaland will appear, and you will be able to swim toward it.”

“And when we get there?” Mack asked. “Will the island not be full of finmen?”

“Aye,” said Ingrid. “But you are a hunter of finmen, Machar Kirk. You possess the arrows that can kill them. They are a traitorous bunch and will not impede you as long as you don’t attack them. Ask them for the one with the orange eyes. The other finmen will give him up if you give them incentive.” She turned toward Beth. “As soon as you get a chance, love, bury the charm. Don’t give him a moment, or he will ensnare you.”

Beth nodded.

Ingrid narrowed her eyes at Mack, as if sizing him up. “I wish you luck.”

They stood and thanked her. Edan spoke up. “Has this ever worked before? A mortal escaping the clutches of a finman?”

Ingrid’s face was inscrutable. “Never. But there’s a first time for everything.” She offered them a smile of encouragement. She looked Beth in the eye. “May I speak with you for a moment in private, lass?”

Beth nodded and let the others know they could wait in the outer office. With reluctance, Mack and his brothers stepped outside. She turned to Ingrid once they were out of earshot.

Ingrid smiled. “Your man loves you with a ferociousness I’ve not seen in many a year. He’s worried.”

“I know.”

She laid a hand on Beth’s cheek. “You’ve suffered so, dear heart. And I’m grieved to say your suffering is not yet over. There’s more you need to know, Beth, and it’s for your ears alone.”

With a heavy heart, Beth watched as Ingrid closed the door.

* * * *

Ten minutes later, Mack glared at the closed office door again. “What are they doing in there?”

Edan, always trying to be the calming influence, spoke in a quiet rumble. “Give her time, Mack.”

“But the woman is a witch! She could be doing anything to Beth with her eye of newt and tears of a bloody salamander!”

“She’ll be fine.”

Right on cue, the door opened. Beth emerged slowly, her face white. She was staring at the floor as if unable to meet his gaze.

Mack felt the floor fall out from under him. He ran to her and rubbed her arm. “Are you all right? What did she say?”

It took Beth a moment to compose herself. She swallowed and closed her eyes for a moment. Steeling herself, she finally looked up. She grinned, but it did not reach her eyes. “I’m fine. She was just offering a few words of encouragement.” She bit her lip. “Can we go meet the rest of your family now? I’d really like to meet them.”

“Beth.”

“Please, Mack.”

Something was wrong. He could feel it looking at her. Her blue eyes were so dark, like they had been that first day on the beach. More than ever, Mack wanted to bring Beth to his home and never let her out of his arms. Whatever it took to chase away the shadows from her eyes.

They drove along Mainland Island’s winding country roads for some time, zipping past colorful patches of sea bluebells and purple Scottish primrose, before they arrived at the Kirk home. Beth gasped when she first spied the sprawling building. It was a stone Tudor farmhouse with matching stone outbuildings. Like so many of the homes in the area, it bordered the beach and had a tremendous view of the sea. And it was certainly large enough to house several massive selkie men and their wives.

Mack had explained that each brother had his own place, but their parents had retained the old farm for centuries as a gathering place for the whole tribe. It was a good home base when they weren’t under the waves.

She realized with a start that Mack would one day bring her there too, his home in the sea. It was a staggering thought. Did that mean she’d have to become like him? If she survived this finman hunt, that is. He’d told her about Elsie and Maggie, his other brothers’ wives. They too had been mortal not long ago and had made the transition to selkie life.

As if hearing her thoughts, he reached a hand over as he turned off the ignition. He smiled at her. “We’ll talk, love. I’ll tell you everything you need to know.”

She forced a smile on her face. It was hard with what Ingrid had told her, but she had to be strong for Mack’s sake.

The front door to the farmhouse opened, and a beautiful group of people, selkies, appeared. Beth gasped. Individually, they were all incredible lookers, but as a large group, they were breath-stealing. Feeling like a big schlep, she slunk out of the car.

She could see the women were trying not to jump up and down, and the men bore huge smiles.

Mack leaned over and whispered to her. “They’re a bit excited. We live for centuries, Beth. It’s a big deal when someone joins our group.”