Page 87 of Wicche Hunt

Curled up and shivering, I called Declan.

“Good morning. Hey, it’s almost nine. Hopefully that means you slept well,” he said.

A let out a breath. Just hearing his deep voice helped me feel not so alone. “I woke up early, but I was feeling pretty good.”

“What’s the matter? You sound funny.”

“I’m okay now. I was just feeling a little shaky and wanted to hear your voice.”

“I’m on my way,”

“No, Declan. I’m fine. You have a crew there and work to do. Really, I’m okay.”

I heard a tire squeal, a honk, and then road sounds. “Can you unlock the back door? I’m coming around the side now.”

Flicking my fingers, I unlocked it a moment before it opened and was relocked. Then I heard heavy steps pounding up the stairs.

“You didn’t need to drive over. I didn’t mean to scare you.” I watched him round the bed and sit down before kicking off his boots and rolling in behind me, his powerful arm pulling me in tight against him.

“I had a nice jog. Now tell me what happened.”

I rolled over, put my head on his chest, and told him.

“How far out had he led you?”

“I don’t know. I have excellent eyesight. Not as good as yours, but still. I couldn’t see the gallery.” I let out a sigh. “I wasn’t panicking. It was more of aWhat the fuck did I just do?I mean, what was the worst that could happen? My arms were too tired to swim, so maybe I sink and walk back with a headache? I don’t know. It was more that Wilbur, someone I loved and trusted, had tried to hurt me. Goddess, it was my childhood all over again.”

“And the real Wilbur—”

“Emrys,” I corrected.

“Right. Emrys says it was this Ash selkie who was actually leading you into boating lanes.”

I flinched.

He hugged me even tighter. “I think that was the endgame. As you said, other than being tired, it was more of a mean prank. Once you introduce humans in boats with large engines and propellers, it rises to attempted murder.”

“I watch the fishing boats go in and out of the harbor every day, right where I was treading water. One had passed right before I went up for air and still that hadn’t occurred to me.”

“You were too busy worrying about Cecil and Wilbur.”

That was true.

“So, can you do me a favor and start wearing your dad’s earrings?”

I thought about it a moment and then nodded. The earrings had been given to me by my Aunt Sylvia when I graduated from high school. I’d only found out recently at her wake that they’d actually been a gift from my father, one my mother had refused to give me. Sylvia didn’t agree with Mom’s decision and gave them to me herself.

Unfortunately, she hadn’t told me or anyone other than my Uncle John, her husband, where the earrings had come from. Consequently, the cousins—especially Sylvia’s daughters Serena and Calliope—hated me even more. Why did I receive a gift far nicer and more expensive than anyone else? It went along with their contention that I had been given preferential treatment since birth.

The earrings were stunning, with a large, lustrous pearl in the middle and triangular fiery blue-green opals surrounding it, like petals on a flower. I’d only ever worn them once, at Sylvia’s wake, when Calliope tried to kill Gran. That was also the night Emrys introduced himself and told me that if I ever wanted my father’s attention, I need only touch the pearl and he’d be listening.

It was hard to explain, even to myself, why I didn’t start wearing them every day after that. I had told Declan I was afraid of being eavesdropped on, which was true, but I really just wasn’t ready. After wondering who my father was all my life, suddenly he was a thought away and I hadn’t been prepared for that.

It was time, though.

THIRTY-FOUR

Death to Square Dancing

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