The Selkie Enchantress (20 page)

“And you have no idea where she is?”

Dominic pushed away from the counter and crossed the room to his wife. He cupped her face in his hands, rubbing drops of rainwater off her cheek with his thumb. “Do you want to tell me what all this is about?”

Tara swallowed, looking up into those pensive gray eyes.

When she didn’t say anything, a troubled expression darkened his features. “Is this about Nuala and that boy? Should I be worried that Kelsey’s taking a liking to him?”

No, Tara thought, shaking her head. If they were cousins it made perfect sense for Kelsey to bond with Owen.

“Then why do you want to know all this?”

“I’m just trying to piece everything together,” Tara answered.

“You want to fill me in on the pieces you have?”

“Not yet,” she said. “I need some more time to think.”

He studied her face for a long time, finally dropping a tender kiss on her lips. “When you want to talk, I’m here.”

Tara let out a long breath when he pushed away and turned back to the task of inventory. He trusted her. He believed in her. And he would wait for her to come to him. That was what she loved about him. His kindness. His patience. That they had no secrets between them. But she was about to break that trust for the first time. Because she couldn’t talk to him about this. Not when she wasn’t completely sure yet herself. And not when it wasn’t her truth to tell.

Owen flipped through the pages of the book, confused. It was the same story,
The Little Mermaid
, but the pictures were different—all bubbly and colorful. He traced his finger over a sea crab with big blue eyes and dark eyebrows. Since when did sea crabs have eyebrows? And why did the princess in this book look so cheerful? She was supposed to be frightened, fighting for the love of her prince. He turned back to the cover, pressing his palm against the shiny surface. It didn’t even
feel
like the other book. “Is this the same story?”

“It’s a different version,” Kelsey explained.

“Version?”

Kelsey sent him a look. “You don’t know what that means, do you?”

Owen shook his head.

“It’s just a different way of telling a story.”

“I liked the other one better,” Owen muttered.

A shadow fell across the blanket and Owen glanced up, spotting the gold-haired man who’d come with Tara to pick him up this afternoon. “What other one?” Sam asked, reaching for a chair from a nearby table. The legs scraped against the wood floor as he pulled it over, straddling it backwards and leaning his big arms over the top to peer at the title.

He had a glass of something that looked like soda resting in one hand. But it didn’t smell like soda. It smelled like something that would taste really bad.

“
The Little Mermaid
?” Sam’s eyes shifted to Kelsey. “I thought
Sleeping Beauty
was your favorite.”

“It is,” she chirped, tucking her legs up and scooting closer to the fire. “But Owen won’t let me look at any other fairy tales. He only wants to look at this one.”

“Not
this
one,” Owen cut in, frustrated. “This one doesn’t even look real.”

Sam lifted his free hand, rubbing it over his wool cap. His skin had lots of marks and scratches on it, like he’d been building something with rocks. “But the other one does?”

“This is the
Disney
version,” Kelsey explained. “It follows the story of the movie.” She lowered her voice. “Mrs. Dooley had it special ordered for my birthday. She didn’t know any better.”

“And the other one…?” Sam asked.

“The other one is the Hans Christian Anderson version.”

“Of course it is.” Little lines fanned out around Sam’s brown eyes when he smiled. “You’ve been spending too much time with Liam.”

“Maybe I have,” Kelsey admitted. “But at least he knows what he’s talking about.”

“So… what’s the difference?”

“The main difference is that this one ends happily.” Kelsey tapped a finger over the glossy cover. “In the Hans Christian Anderson version, the mermaid turns into foam and the princess wins.

“Like I said,” Owen mumbled. “The other one’s better.”

Sam lifted an eyebrow. “Why do you want the mermaid to turn into foam?”

Owen squirmed. “I don’t really want the mermaid to turn into foam. I just want her to go back where she belongs.”

“Underwater?”

Owen nodded.

“But what if the mermaid really loved the prince, too?”

“It doesn’t matter.”

“But…” Sam’s gaze shifted to where a row of instruments hung above a cozy booth in the corner. “The mermaid saved the prince’s life. Without her, he wouldn’t be able to choose either of them.”

Owen shook his head. “The prince is supposed to be with the princess.”

“I think you’re being too hard on the mermaid.”

“She should never have made the trade in the first place,” Owen argued. “It was a stupid idea.”

“The trade with the sea witch?”

Owen nodded.

“But what if she didn’t have a choice?”

“She
did
have a choice. She could have stayed in her kingdom and married one of the mermen.”

“You know,” Sam said thoughtfully. “Sometimes it’s harder to stay where you are. Especially when you consider what could be waiting for you on the other side.”

Owen narrowed his eyes. “What do
you
think is on the other side?”

“I don’t know,” Sam admitted. “I’ve never been there. But I imagine it could be wonderful.”

“Well, I have.” Owen shoved the book aside and shot to his feet. “And it’s not.”

“Owen!” Kelsey scrambled up after him. “Wait!” She grabbed his arm before he got to the door.

He whirled. “I can’t go back there!”

“Nobody’s asking you to go back there!”

“Back where?” Sam stood, crossing the room to join them.

Owen started to tremble. He lifted a finger, pointing at the book. “Back
there
.”

“We still don’t know if that’s where you’re from,” Kelsey hissed, trying to keep her voice low enough so Sam couldn’t hear. But it was too late. He’d already heard. “You said you can’t remember ever even
seeing
a mermaid.”

“No,” Owen whispered. “But I’ve seen selkies. And everything else in that book.”

Sam dropped to his knee and looked Owen straight in the eye. “These selkies…” he asked gently. “The ones you can remember. What did they look like?”

Hot tears sprang to the backs of Owen’s eyes. What if this man turned him into his mother? What if she made him go back to that terrible palace? What if all of the petals from the rose had already fallen? Owen swiped the back of his sleeve across his cheek, mortified as a tear slipped free. “They’re white.”

Kelsey squeezed Owen’s hand and looked at Sam. “That’s what he keeps saying. But I’ve never heard of a white selkie. Is there such a thing?”

“A white selkie?” The barstool squeaked as the lone man at the bar turned. “Now there’s a story I haven’t heard in a long time.”

***

The water felt so cool, so soothing against her raw skin. Her pale arms lifted, weightless beneath the undulating waves. Her hair drifted around her face like silverfish, dancing with the movement of the sea. The welts were slowly fading, the marks the rain had left on her skin.

How could they live like this? Trapped on this spit of land when all the wonders of the ocean glittered under the surface? A fish brushed against her bare leg and she closed her eyes, relishing in the rough scales sweeping against her skin.

Home. Soon she would be home. Her toes curled into the silky white sand, sinking into the palette of shells sparkling at her feet. All she needed now was her king.

Her hand darted out, catching the fish. It writhed, squirming against her vise-like grip. She’d seen the change in Liam this afternoon. She’d seen the way he had stood between her and Caitlin, like
she
was the one who couldn’t be trusted.

The redhead was determined to steal him away from her. Her lips curved. She had no idea who she was dealing with. She opened her mouth, shoved the fish down her throat. She heard the bones break, felt the slimy wriggling as she swallowed it whole. She didn’t have time to waste on foolish teenage crushes. Her time was almost up.

She kicked her way up to the surface, the sea sluicing down her long hair as the frosty air surrounded her like a winter kiss. The rain had thinned to a quiet mist. And a thick fog wound through the village, a yellow ribbon dripping over the edges of the cliffs.

She walked out of the crashing waves, gathering her cloak around her shoulders. She felt the itching in her throat, the burning in the backs of her eyes before she smelled the smoke. Before she saw the glow of a tall thin flame in the circle of rocks on the beach.

Nuala paused, ankle deep in the waves, letting the cold water roll over her bare feet. She drew strength from the sea as the woman stepped out of the fire. Moira’s strawberry blond hair tumbled around her shoulders, curling in the mists. Those cruel green-gold eyes were as cold and hard as gemstones. The raindrops sizzled as they met the heat of her skin. Steam rose up around her like curls of golden smoke. “You wanted to see me.”

“I need your help.”

Moira lifted a bejeweled hand, studying her long scarlet nails. “I thought you would work faster than this.”

“There’s been a… complication.”

Moira arched a winged eyebrow. “A complication?”

“There’s a woman on the island.” Nuala’s gaze drifted up to the village. “She says she’s an artist from Dublin, but she knows who, or at least,
what
I am.”

“You didn’t expect that there would be some who would recognize our kind?”

“I thought most of our kind were gone.”

“Most. But not all.” Moira walked out onto the beach, her dress crackling around her like a driftwood fire. “Glenna is not your problem. The only woman you should be worried about now is Caitlin. Liam is already starting to remember things about her. About how he felt about her before you arrived.”

“I can handle Caitlin. I need to know who Glenna is. She painted a picture of my palace today. She brought it over to hang in the cottage I’m renting. She wanted me to see it. She wanted me to know.”

“Did she?” Moira’s lips curved. “How thoughtful of her.”

“Do you know who she is?”

“Of course I know who she is,” Moira’s voice snapped out into the rain. “But what I don’t know is why we’re having this conversation. If you can’t do this on your own, Nuala, then let me take Owen off your hands for a while. He’s getting in your way.”

Nuala narrowed her eyes. “What do you want with Owen?”

“What do I ever want with anyone?” Moira’s eyes gleamed. “Leverage. It’s all I live for, darling. You could learn from me. I’m never in debt to anyone. But many people owe me many things.” She smiled. “Including you.”

Nuala took several long, deep breaths. “I can do this on my own. I
will
do this, but I want this to be Liam’s decision, too. I don’t want to take him until he’s ready. Until he wants to go.”

“You stole his memory,” Moira reminded her, angling her head. “Suddenly you’re developing a conscience?”

“It’ll be easier this way. If he wants to be there. If he sees it as a chance, an opportunity to continue his research, it’ll be easier to get back into the kingdom.”

Moira laughed, a low hollow sound that made Nuala’s skin crawl. “You didn’t really believe that? When I told you they’d let you back in?”

Nuala staggered back into the ocean. “Of course they will. I’ve paid my penance. I’ve suffered long enough. They’ll accept Liam.”

“They’ll never let you back in. Not after what you did.”

“But this is all they’ve ever
wanted
me to do.” She shook her head. “I don’t understand.”

“Oh, my dear. It’s not Liam you should be worried about. It’s Owen. What you did to him was unimaginable.”

“Unimaginable?” Nuala stammered. “I did the best I could.”

“You stole Owen from his mother and locked him away in an ivory palace.”

“To protect him!”

“I’m not sure that Caitlin would see it that way.”

“I thought it would be easier to take a child! Stealing a grown man from his home and his family is wrong.”

“And, yet, that’s exactly what you are doing right now.”

“Because I have no choice!”

“There’s always a choice.” Moira picked up a glittering seashell, tucking it into her hair. “You were the one who chose this path so many years ago.”

“I was eighteen. I didn’t know any better. I was in love!”

“What is love, but a weak emotion to make us all suffer? Where is your precious Rowan now?”

Nuala looked away, blind with rage. Rowan had been her husband—her
selkie
husband. He was her first love, her only
true
love. At eighteen, she’d turned her back on her fate, refusing to accept her role as the new white selkie. A white selkie was supposed to find a land-man and bring him into the sea. The man she chose was destined to be king. Together, they would rule the ocean. And with this man’s connection to the land, they would maintain the peace between their two worlds.