Page 37 of Deep Sea Kiss
“Yeah,” Magnus said. “I decided it was time to see Mikkel’s home.” There was a sound of a door being slammed. “Are you sure it was a witch who killed him?”
“Yes. The footage shows a man riding in the car with Mikkel in one frame, and then he just vanishes.”
Eiric could hardly believe it—this was why the security company had called him to come see the footage in person. The owner had scratched his head and admitted there must have been a glitch, but Eiric’s blood had run cold the moment he’d seen it. He hadn’t distinguished the man’s face in the footage, but he’d bet good money that it had been the same English stranger who’d sat with Mikkel at the bar that fateful night.
“Fuck,” Magnus cursed. “I’ll call you as soon as I find them.”
“Thank you,” Eiric said. “And Magnus…”
He wanted to say he was sorry for what he’d said the day Lottie visited their island, for how he’d handled the entire situation. But he hadn’t imagined they’d be doing this over the phone. Conversations like that needed to happen face to face.
“I know,” Magnus said, understanding him.
Then he hung up.
Eiric focused all his attention on the road and drove like a madman around bends. He sped past cars carrying unsuspecting humans who had no idea that his world was crumbling. He glanced out the window at the bay he was passing and thought about driving to the shore and swimming to Brundal. It was still light, though, the sun descending behind a thick cover of clouds. It would be risky, and he might be seen, but he didn’t care at that moment. As a sea dragon, he might sniff out the witch and the twins more easily.
But the tide was out, so he’d be swimming against the current. He’d be faster in the car, even if his body was screaming at him to let his dragon form take over.
His phone rang, and he answered without a thought. “Lottie?”
A man cleared his throat. “No, uh, it’s Nils.”
Eiric growled. “I don’t have time for this right now.”
“Okay, sure,” his manager said, “but I have a table full of elderly residents here, waiting for Lottie, and some strange shit she dumped in the kitchen.”
Resisting the urge to bang his head on the steering wheel, Eiric forced his temper down. “Don’t touch that stuff in the kitchen.” He paused. “Actually, just dump a bag of salt over it all. I’ll deal with it when I can.” He thought of how much Lottie’s work meant to her, then added, “Tell Lottie’s guests that dinner is on the house, then arrange for them to be taken home safely. Drive them yourself if you have to.”
If Nils thought this was strange, he didn’t mention it. “You got it, boss.”
He disconnected, and Eiric thought, not for the first time, that the kid really deserved a raise.
Only ten more minutes to Lottie’s house. He had no idea what he’d find there, but he hoped to all the gods that he wouldn’t be too late.
Fifteen
Lottie
The front doorof her apartment was ajar.
Lottie stopped short at the sight of it, her chest burning from her sprint from the harbor. She didn’t hear a thing apart from the wind and the birds, but that didn’t mean anything. Maybe the twins were in bed for some reason, and Mrs. Enstad was airing the apartment?
Still, it didn’t sit right with her, so she stooped over and picked up a rock from the garden. As far as weapons went, it wasn’t great, but it was the best she had.
Tiptoeing up the garden path, she was painfully aware that she was in full view of anyone watching her from the house. She gave up any hopes of sneaking up on possible intruders and rushed to the door. She nudged it open with her foot, then peered inside.
It was quiet in the apartment—too quiet. Even if the twins were sleeping, Mrs. Enstad would be puttering about, fixing herself some tea. And besides, they were supposed to come over to the Sverdfisk, not stay in.
“Shit, shit, shit,” Lottie muttered as she crept down the short hallway toward the bedroom. Looking through the door, she confirmed that it was empty and continued to the living room.
That was when she noticed a person lying on the floor.
Lottie rushed over, kneeling beside Mrs. Enstad. The older woman was crumpled on her side, her gray hair spilled over her face. Lottie brushed it back, relieved when the skin of her cheek was warm and very much alive. Mrs. Enstad’s chest moved with slow, even breaths, and her heartbeat, Lottie checked, was strong.
“Mrs. Enstad?” she called, gently shaking her shoulder. “Katrine? Can you hear me?”
With a groan, her landlady woke up, blinking at her, clearly confused. Lottie helped her sit up, then checked her for any sign of trauma. But nothing seemed broken, and there wasn’t even a lump on her head, so it didn’t seem that she was hurt at all.
