Surrendering (Swans Landing) (17 page)

He’d never had to lie about who he was. His mother hadn’t killed his father. He had nothing to complain about and all he’d done since I’d gotten back was whine and moan. I was sick of it.

I lunged, pushing him backward into the street. His head hit the asphalt and he groaned, but he was pushing back at me within seconds. We rolled over each other, arms swinging. Pain seared across my face when his fist hit my left eye and then he gasped when I punched him in the gut.

It felt good. All of the frustration I’d been holding inside for too long was coming out of me as I pummeled Dylan. I wanted to beat him until there was nothing left.

Gold bursts sparked in front of my eyes and my swing wavered, missing Dylan’s ear. Through the haze that had begun to settle over me, I saw him shaking his head and blinking.

I became aware of a new sound that had broken the silence around us: the finfolk song.

Domnall and his guards stood only a few feet away, watching us as Domnall sang.

I rolled off Dylan, pressing my hands over my ears. “Don’t look at it,” I said. “Fight it.”

Dylan groaned next to me. My body shuddered as I fought against the urge to follow the song. That was the most dangerous part of it. Not that it showed me what I wanted, but that it would make me follow it straight to Domnall.

We had to get away. I rolled over, bracing myself on my knees and elbows, trying to push myself up from the asphalt. “Dylan,” I croaked. “Get up. We have to run.”

“Joshua,” a voice said, the sound drifting on the wind toward me.

I shuddered. I wouldn’t look. It wasn’t really my dad. He was dead. He was never coming back.

“Joshua,” the voice said again.

No! It wasn’t him. It couldn’t be him, I knew that.

“I’m here, Joshua,” the voice said.

I couldn’t help it. Even as my eyelids slid open, the voice in my head yelled at me not to do it, to keep my eyes closed and run as hard as I could.

But I was human and I was weak.

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

“Dad,” I gasped, reaching out toward him. He stood there, solid and real, his hand stretched toward me, beckoning. Small rocks and broken shells dug into my palms as I crawled forward.

“Joshua,” my dad said, smiling. “Come here.”

“Dad!” Tears stung my eyes and I crawled faster, stumbling as a rock stabbed painfully into my knee.

But then another voice shattered my focus on the vision of my dad. “
No!
” Through the haze that had filled my mind I saw Elizabeth race across the grass, still dressed in her thin T-shirt, flat ankle boots on her feet. She moved in front of Dylan, her arms spread as she glared at Domnall. “Get away from them!”

Only Artair’s face changed as he looked at Elizabeth, standing defiantly in front of the group. He shifted, his gaze darting to Domnall briefly, before his face took on his usual detached, stern look.

Domnall didn’t seem bothered by Elizabeth’s arrival. He continued to sing, his eyes locked on her, the corners of his lips curled into a smile.

“No,” Elizabeth said, but I could see the way her body shook. I squeezed my eyes shut, telling myself not to look again. I turned around, the movements slow and painful as I resisted the call of the song that surged through me.

I followed the sound of Elizabeth’s choked sob, not daring to open my eyes. “Dylan,” she said, her voice breaking.

“It’s not real, Elizabeth,” Dylan said, his own voice strained. “Fight it.”

But she didn’t have the advantage of finfolk blood. She would be even more vulnerable to the song’s effects. I reached out, my hand swiping at empty air. If I could find her, even just her leg, I could try to hold her back.

The crack of a gun’s discharge exploded through the neighborhood. My eyelids snapped open wide to find the source of the sound.

Mr. Connors stood at the edge of the yard, his silver handgun clutched in one hand. “That was a warning shot,” he boomed, his focus on the finfolk. “You touch my daughter and the next one will be in your head.”

Domnall had stopped singing at the sound of the gun, but now he turned toward the other man, his face twisted into a wicked snarl. “You have no power here, human,” he said. “Your little weapons are useless.”

Mr. Connors raised the gun, aiming at the finfolk king, but Domnall began to sing again, louder this time. The song roared through the air, the notes hungry and furious. Mr. Connors let the gun fall to the ground and he took a step forward.

“C—” His mouth opened and closed as he tried to form words, his eyes wide and glassy.

“Josh!” Dylan rose from his place on the street, staggering forward. “Get up! Run!”

He darted forward, grabbing Elizabeth by the arm and dragging her behind him. I forced myself up onto unsteady legs, stumbling as I told myself not to look at the golden bursts where I knew my dad would appear.

As I regained control of my body and pushed myself to follow Dylan and Elizabeth, I heard Mr. Connors’s aching call behind me.

“
Coral!
”

* * *

The door flew open as we raced up the stairs of the Mooring house. Lake glared out at us, steam practically coming out of his ears as he motioned for us to get inside. Once Dylan, Elizabeth, and I had tumbled into the house, Lake slammed the door, locking it and shoving the towels in front of the crack at the bottom again.

My body felt heavy and exhausted. I collapsed onto the couch and Mara rushed over, kneeling in front of me.

“Where have you been?” she exclaimed, her hands pawing over my arms and face, as if she were checking for injuries.

“Yes.” Lake’s voice was stern and tense. He crossed his arms as he looked down at me. “I’d like to know that myself.”

Across the room, Dylan’s parents were fussing over him. His mom examined him, then pulled him into a tight hug, her face pale. Mr. Waverly scowled, but the relief on his face made it less effective than Lake’s glowering look.

A lump swelled in my throat and I broke my gaze from the reunion between Dylan and his parents.

“We went to talk to Elizabeth,” I said.

All heads in the room—Lake, Mr. and Mrs. Waverly, Mara, Mr. Moody, and Sailor—turned toward the girl who had crumpled to the floor against the wall. She sat with her knees pulled up to her chest, apparently not caring that her pink-striped underwear was in full view. Her arms draped across her knees and her head was down, her hair shielding her face. It wasn’t until her shoulders shook that I realized she was crying.

“Why?” Mara asked me.

I looked at her, then shifted my gaze to Dylan. She followed my gaze, and her expression changed. So she did know.

“We wanted to warn people,” Dylan spoke up. “Elizabeth wouldn’t answer my calls, and Mr. Connors had already hung up on Mr. Richter last night. I had to try to talk to Elizabeth in person, to get her to listen.”

“Why is it any of your business whether the Connors girl is okay?” Mr. Moody growled, his eyes narrowed.

No one spoke for long moments. Dylan swallowed, his jaw tight.

Sailor looked between Dylan and Elizabeth, and then back again. She pushed herself up from the barstool where she had been sitting and laughed bitterly.

“Tell me you’re joking,” she said.

Dylan stared back at her, but he didn’t speak.

“Elizabeth Connors?” Sailor roared. I cringed as her voice echoed off the walls around us. “You’re in love with Elizabeth Connors?”

“I never said that,” Dylan said quickly, his eyes darting toward Elizabeth, who was still huddled on the floor.

“Then what?” Sailor asked. “She’s just your hook up buddy?”

Mr. Waverly’s neck reddened and he cleared his throat. “Maybe we should discuss this later.”

“We will discuss it later,” Lake said, still glaring at Dylan and me. “You two are lucky Domnall didn’t find you.”

Dylan and I exchanged glances.

“Actually,” I said, unable to meet Lake’s gaze, “he did.”

“We got away because of her.” Dylan nodded toward Elizabeth.

“We were behind her house when the finfolk found us,” I said. “Elizabeth came out to stop them, but she became caught up in the song. Then Mr. Connors came with his gun, but that was no use. Dylan and I were able to resist enough to run and we brought Elizabeth with us. But they have her dad.”

Lake pounded his fist on the wall. “Do you two understand what you’re doing? Do you even
think
before you act?”

“They’re children, Lake,” Mrs. Waverly told him.

Dylan shrugged off his mom’s hand. “We’re not little kids. We do think, and we thought about what everyone else out there might be going through. We had to do something to try to warn them, to get someone to listen. We made it back in one piece, didn’t we?”

Lake studied Dylan’s face, his eyes narrowing. “That depends on your definition of one piece. What happened to your face?”

I had almost forgotten the fight we’d had. My eye throbbed at the reminder and I reached up to touch the area gingerly. Dylan’s bottom lip was cut open in the middle and his cheek was red.

“Nothing,” he said, looking quickly at me. “It’s fine.”

Lake ran a hand through his hair as he paced back and forth.

“We can’t let them go rounding up all the humans on this island,” Mr. Moody said, scratching at his beard. “If they build up an army of mindless people, we won’t be any match for them at all.”

“I know,” Lake said.

“We can’t hide out here forever,” Mara added.

“I know!” Lake roared. He stopped pacing and sucked in a deep breath. “It doesn’t seem that Callum is coming back. So we’ll have to face them. On our own terms, not hiding out here like caged animals. We’ll call everyone who will join us. Maybe we can fight back as a group.”

I stood, nodding. “It’s worth a shot.”

Lake’s glare sent an icy chill through me. “
You
are not going.” He looked around at Mara, Dylan, and Sailor. “None of you. You’re staying here.”

“You can’t leave us behind,” Mara snapped.

“This is not a fight for children,” her dad said. “You’re not risking your life out there. You’re staying here. That’s final.”

I was fine with Mara staying hidden, but I wasn’t going to be left behind. “I’m not a child,” I said. “I’m eighteen. And I’m not your son.”

“You’re my responsibility until your we get your mama back,” Lake told me, his eyes flashing. He pointed at Sailor. “And I don’t want to hear a word out of you either. Your grandma would agree with me if she were well enough.”

“I agree with you,” Mr. Moody spoke up, his eyes on Sailor. “She stays here.”

“You let Callum go,” I pointed out, not backing down from this argument with Lake. “He’s only a year older than I am.”

“Callum was not my responsibility,” Lake said through clenched teeth. “You are, and I am not going to be the one to explain to your mama why I let you risk your life.”

“It’s my life to risk!” I shouted.

“I won’t let you die like your father did!” Lake shouted back at me.

Silence fell over the room as we stared at each other. Lake’s face was red, his eyes wide and wild, a haunted look in them. Then he shook his head. “You’re staying here,” he said in a softer tone. “That’s my final word on it.”

I started to open my mouth to argue more, but then closed it. Lake had his final say, but that didn’t mean I had to listen.

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

Lake, Mr. Moody, and Mr. and Mrs. Waverly all left to meet up with the rest of the finfolk and humans that would help them. They left Mr. Richter behind to keep an eye on the house. And us. No one said it out loud, but the clear implication was that Mr. Richter was our baby-sitter.

Once they had all left and Mr. Richter had gone back up to the attic lookout point, Dylan’s little brother following along behind him, Sailor whirled around to face Dylan, her eyes dark and her hands on her hips.

“So,” she said, looking him up and down. “Tell me.”

“Tell you what?” Dylan asked.

Sailor glanced at Elizabeth, her nose wrinkling. “Tell me why you like her.”

Dylan turned away from her. “Why do you care?”

“I’ve been your best friend since we were born, Dylan,” Sailor said. “I’ve been right here, the whole time. But you never saw me the way you see Mara or
her
.” She pointed at Elizabeth. “After everything she’s said to me, the way she’s treated me, how could you go behind my back and hook up with her?”

“You weren’t here, Sailor,” Dylan said. “Maybe I was bored.”

Sailor laughed. “Mara was here. And Josh wasn’t. So why not go after her?”