Page 22 of Mysterious Mate

She veered from what might be an easily predictable path, cutting toward shore and realizing she might be too close. The Zodiac skimmed across the shallows, but the motor dragged, and she had to cut back toward the deeper water to keep from losing it.

Willow gripped the Zodiac’s motor handle tighter, her knuckles white. The tiny craft bounced and slapped against the water, each jolt rattling her bones. She had to stay focused, had to keep ahead of them. This part of the coastline was a jagged silhouette. She needed to use what light she had from the moon to try and lose them in the labyrinth of coves and inlets ahead.

The power boat closed the distance, its engine a menacing growl. Willow swerved sharply, nearly capsizing as she veered toward a narrow channel. She prayed the deeper draft of the power boat would slow them down. The Zodiac skidded around a rocky outcrop, and for a brief moment, she lost sight of her pursuers.

But the reprieve was short-lived. The power boat appeared again, its searchlight slicing through the darkness and locking onto her. Shit. Willow’s breath came in ragged gasps as she pushed the motor to its limit. The engine whined in protest, but she didn’t ease up. She couldn’t. Not now.

A bullet whizzed past her ear, splashing into the water. She hadn’t heard it over the dueling engines. Either they were louder than she thought, or the bastards were using silencers. Another splat as another bullet plunged into the ocean—this time only narrowly missing her. Panic surged through her, but she forced it down. She couldn’t afford to lose control. She had to think, had to outmaneuver them. Up ahead, she spotted a cluster of rocks jutting out of the water. It was risky, but it might be her only chance.

She steered the Zodiac toward the rocks, threading the needle through the narrow gaps. The sound of the power boat’s engine faltered as it struggled to follow. Another gunshot rang out, this time hitting the side of the Zodiac, puncturing the rubber. Willow’s heart sank as she felt the boat start to deflate, but she pressed on, weaving through the obstacles.

The power boat slowed, the larger craft unable to match her agility among the rocks. The searchlight panned the shoreline, looking for her. Willow saw an opportunity and took it, maneuvering the Zodiac, which was now on life support, into a shallow cove. She cut the engine and grabbed the emergency paddle, rowing with all her might. The Zodiac’s punctured side was sinking lower, but she was close, so close.

She hit the sandy beach and jumped out, dragging the deflating Zodiac behind her. She scrambled up the rocky incline, the sound of the power boat receding as it struggled to navigate the treacherous waters. She didn’t stop until she reached the cover of the trees, her chest heaving as she tried to stash the remains of the Zodiac and catch her breath.

Willow looked back toward the water. The power boat was still out there, its searchlight sweeping the area, but they hadn’t spotted her. Not yet. She knew she couldn’t stay here long. Frank’s men would be relentless. But for now, she had a precious few moments to rest and plan her next move. She would survive this. She had to.

The soft cry of a falcon caught her attention—mostly because falcons were not nocturnal hunters. She turned back to see if the power boat had made land.

“It hasn’t beached yet,” said a woman’s voice from behind.

Willow whirled around, lifting the oar up in a defensive posture. The woman was petite and curvy, with silvery blonde hair and dark eyes. She was also stark naked.

“I’m going to assume you’re Willow Carlyle,” she said, pulling on leggings, sneakers, and a bulky sweater. She extended her hand. “I’m Mercy Bowen, and I’m with the Shadow Sisters. We need to get out of here. I’ve got a car waiting. Come on.”

“Not so fast. Who are the Shadow Sisters? Why should I trust you?”

“Because Katie O’Neill sent me, and the Shadow Sisters are the sworn enemies of the Shadow League. Good enough?”

Willow dropped the oar, which would be too burdensome to carry. “It is for now.”

Together, the two women raced through the trees and up to a road as they made their way to a small car, getting in and speeding off into the darkness. Willow looked back over her shoulder. It was as if she could see her old life fading away, which wasn’t necessarily a bad thing, but where the future might take her was anyone’s guess.

CHAPTER 12

WILLOW

Willow's bare feet sank into the warm sand as she walked along the coastline, Weston close by her side. Neither had spoken a word other than a perfunctory greeting since seeing each other at breakfast. The sun was high, casting a golden glow over the tranquil waves that lapped gently against the shore. She breathed in the salty air, feeling the limited freedom that came with being allowed outside of the limited scope of the castle and the one private beach. This place, with its relatively untouched beauty, had become something other than a sanctuary, it had felt like a prison from the start and that hadn’t changed. It was a nice prison, but a prison, nonetheless. Even the salt-tanged air had begun to feel cloying. Willow was beginning to feel as if she had exchanged one type of imprisonment for another.

They reached a rocky area where the beach met a towering overhang. The rocks jutted out into the sea, forming natural pools where tiny sea creatures darted about. Willow’s eyes lit up with curiosity. Without a second thought, she stripped down to her swimsuit and waded into the water, beckoning Weston to join her. He shook his head, presumably to be able to scan the horizon and watch for danger.

“Come on, Weston, just a quick swim,” Willow said, backing into the water until she was chest deep.

“Willow, come back.”

“No,” she called over her shoulder as she stretched her body down into the sea and began to swim.

She heard him mutter what sounded something like “Damn it.”

Weston undressed to his briefs, carefully folding his clothes and setting his rather impressively large gun on top of the pile. The gun wasn’t the only thing impressive about the man. Willow had turned to watch, treading water as she did so. Turning, she swam towards the overhang, drawn by the mystery of what might lie beneath its shadow. The water was cool, but somehow invigorating, and she felt a rush of excitement as she neared the rocks.

Suddenly, Cage’s shout broke through the rhythmic sound of the waves. “Willow, stop! Come back!”

Willow looked around and could see nothing. There was an urgency to his voice she hadn’t heard before. The cool water was a refreshing contrast to the sun's relentless heat on her skin. She floated on her back, ignoring him and letting the current carry her where it pleased. She knew Weston was watching just a few yards away.

She brought her legs down into the water, treading it to watch as his strong strokes sliced through the water with ease. He had the most beautiful, muscular arms that rippled as he pulled the water to him, propelling him forward. As she watched, a wave of desire washed over her, more powerful than the pull of the tide. Weston reached her, wrapping his strong hand around her arm and pulling her back to him, anger and concern etched on his face.

“What’s wrong?” she asked as his arm snaked around her waist in an almost vice-like grip.

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