Surrendering (Swans Landing) (6 page)

She scowled at me with those golden brown eyes I had thought about for months. I wanted to take back everything. I was tired and had missed her too much.

“I’m sorry,” I said softly. “I didn’t mean that. I’m just tired.”

We sat there silent for a long time, before Mara leaned her head against my shoulder again.

“Dylan is my friend,” she said. “
Just
my friend. I’ve waited five months for you to come back to me.” She sighed. “But I thought it would be different when you did. I didn’t think that we’d be waiting for an invasion of finfolk.”

I slipped my arm around her back and pulled her close to me, kissing the top of her head. The wind lifted strands of her hair, brushing them against my face.

“I’ll do everything to protect you,” I told her.

Mara turned her head toward me, smiling up at me. “And what about you? Don’t you need protecting?”

I laughed. “Are you volunteering?”

“I’m not a damsel in distress, you know,” Mara said. “If some finfolk king thinks he’s coming here to take over just because he wants to, he hasn’t met me yet. I’m the girl who punched Elizabeth Connors in the face, remember?”

“I don’t think I’ll ever forget that. You were kind of scary. And awesome. But mostly scary.”

Mara punched my leg gently. “That’s right. So just wait until these finfolk get here. I’ll make them wish they’d never left Hether Blether.”

I leaned down to kiss her, enjoying the feel of her warm lips against mine and hoping that she was right.

* * *

My neck felt like I’d slept while contorted into a pretzel. I stared up at a gray sky visible through the skylight high overhead. Crystal prisms hung from fishing line under the skylights, but there wasn’t enough sunlight for them to reflect it anywhere.

I groaned as I stretched, my feet hitting the end of the couch and my arms hitting the other end. My head was turned at a painful angle and I had to slowly ease myself around into a sitting position. I rubbed at my neck, trying to work out the kinks.

Voices behind me caught my attention and I turned, blinking as I peered toward the kitchen area. Two figures sat at the island bar, their backs to me and their heads bent together, one red and one brown.

I padded over to the kitchen, rolling my head around to stretch out my neck. “Morning,” I groaned.

Sailor and Callum pulled away from each other slightly as I joined them. They had empty cereal bowls in front of them and a box of Corn Flakes on the counter next to a half-empty gallon of milk. Miss Gale was known across the island for her home cooking, so the fact that she wasn’t in here making one of her famous breakfasts spoke volumes about her condition.

“How are you?” I asked, studying Sailor. She looked better than she had in a long time. Some color had returned to her cheeks and her eyes didn’t show as much exhaustion as they had the day before.

“I’m good,” Sailor told me. “Hungry though.” She reached for the Corn Flakes and poured herself another bowl.

“That’s her third bowl,” Callum told me with a smile. “I like a lass with a good appetite.”

I found a bowl and a spoon and joined them for breakfast. “I hope you slept better than I did,” I said.

Callum had insisted on taking the love seat and letting me have the longer couch, claiming that he didn’t need as much room as I did. I doubted that was true, since we were about the same height and build, except for the fact that Callum had one less limb than I did.

“Probably not,” he said. “But I was too tired to care much.”

My stomach growled as I chewed my first spoonful of cereal. I hadn’t thought about how hungry I was until then. I had been too busy to eat after we’d arrived in Swans Landing, and then once I made it back to Sailor’s house, I was so exhausted I wanted to sleep for days. I felt like I could eat a few bowls of cereal myself.

“So Callum told me how the meeting went,” Sailor said through a mouthful of cereal. “Do you think anyone will be able to convince the rest of the humans to help us?”

I shrugged. “I don’t know. If they’re all like my mom, probably not. But I don’t see what other option we have. We need as many people fighting back against Domnall as we can get.”

“I don’t know how much help the humans will be,” Callum said, shaking his head. “They’ll be easily susceptible to the song’s effects, and Domnall knows that. He will use it against them.”

“Is there anything else the song can do?” I asked. “Is there a way we can use it to protect them? To manipulate their reaction to the song with a different one?”

“Not that I’ve ever heard,” Callum said. “The song was only meant to help finfolk. We’ve never really been interested in trying to protect humans, so we wouldn’t have tried to develop songs for them.”

I hated that the stories about finfolk were true. I had read all the books and websites about finfolk that I could find, and they all said the same thing: Finfolk were cruel creatures and they used their powers to trick humans into following them to their deaths, or else kidnapped them to keep as pets. I had never wanted to believe it. The finfolk in Swans Landing seemed like ordinary people.

But if these stories were true, if finfolk could be that cruel, was there something inside me that could be just as bad as them? Did that kind of cruelty live in the blood within me that gave me the ability to change?

I gulped down the last of the cereal and drained the milk from the bowl. I wiped my mouth and then stood, looking Callum up and down. He still wore the tattered, dirty robe he’d been given back in Hether Blether.

“I think I have some clothes that might fit you,” I said. “Look in my bag. There should be some jeans and T-shirts. Sorry I don’t have extra shoes.”

Callum inclined his head once. “That is fine. Thank you.”

“Where are you going?” Sailor asked as she watched me deposit my bowl in the sink.

I ran a hand over my hair. “I’m going to talk to some old friends,” I said. “See if I can convince them to join us.”

Sailor raised her eyebrows. “Humans?” she asked.

I nodded. “I have to let them know what’s coming and try to make them see that joining together is the only option we have.”

CHAPTER EIGHT

I shoved my hands deep into the pocket of my hoodie as I stood on the Moorings’ front porch and looked at the ominous fog that hung low in the sky. It was way too cold for August. Things just weren’t right here on the island, something other than the threat that lurked out in the ocean. The island reminded me of Hether Blether, and that thought chilled me all the way to the bone.

As I walked down the stairs, a movement out of the corner of my eye made me stop in my tracks. I peered into the shadows underneath the house. Like most other houses in Swans Landing, it was raised off the ground by wooden pilings, to protect it from flooding during hurricanes or other rough storms. Most people used the area under their homes as storage for things like lawnmowers and yard tools. Miss Gale kept her belongings a little more neatly organized than most people did, but there was still a lot under there and a lot of places that someone could hide.

A chill prickled the back of my neck. I felt unseen eyes watching me. I moved down the steps and then walked slowly toward the area under the house, my eyes scanning every inch.

Was Domnall here already? Had he arrived while we were sleeping and now either he or one of his people waited under the house for us?

I reached the first wooden piling, where a shovel leaned against an old cabinet. I reached for the shovel, my eyes never leaving the space under the house.

“I know you’re here,” I called out, trying not to sound as nervous as I felt. “Come out now.”

There was movement to my right as a large shape rose from behind another cabinet. Brandishing my weapon, I took off after the figure, leaping over a push lawnmower.

The person’s feet got tangled up in some old fishing baskets, and the figure sprawled across the sand, sliding to a stop just a few feet from me. I raced over there, pointing the shovel at the figure’s back as I kicked him over to get a look at his face.

Harry Connors stared up at me, his face red around his bushy beard.

“What the hell are you doing here?” I asked.

Mr. Connors’s gaze flicked to the shovel still pointed at him and then back at me. He pushed the shovel out of his face as he sat up. “What’re you planning to do with that, boy? Dig my grave?”

“A grave is too good for you. You deserve to be tossed out in the ocean for the fish.” Mr. Connors had always been the loudest voice speaking out against the finfolk. He never missed a chance to remind me that they had killed my father.

But I lowered my weapon as he stood.

“I’d heard you were back in town.” Mr. Connors looked me over, crossing his thick arms over his chest. “You don’t look better for all of the trouble you’ve caused. You should be ashamed, leaving your mama alone like that while you chased after those abominations.”

My lip curled. “I’m only going to ask you this one more time. What are you doing here, sneaking around Miss Gale’s house?”

Mr. Connors’s face turned a deep crimson, but he glared back at me. “I came to see for myself that the rumors were true. That you and your bastard sister were back, and you brought her whore mama with you.”

I raised the shovel again, pointing the tip at Mr. Connors’s throat. “You might want to think carefully about what you say next.”

Mr. Connors wrinkled his nose and pushed the shovel away again. “You ain’t a killer, boy. You were raised to be one of us. You
could
be one of us again. We’d overlook your little problem in the water. We’d do it for your mama’s sake. All you have to do is stop running around with these freaks and come back to us.”

A way out. A way to pretend at being human again, like I had done all my life.

A half-life, Mara had called it. A life that ignored the part of my father living inside me.

“No, thanks,” I said.

“They’ll kill you, just like they did your daddy.”

I gripped the handle of the shovel so tight I felt splinters digging into my palms. “Do you even realize what’s going on here? People are coming to take our home. They’ll use whatever power they have to get you out of their way. You’re
nothing
to them, unless you work with us to fight them.”

Mr. Connors stepped back, putting distance between us. “I ain’t joining your kind, boy. Out here, we have our own way of dealing with problems.” His hand moved to the holster at his hip, resting on the grip of a silver handgun.

I sighed. I knew Mr. Connors was a lost cause. He hated the finfolk too much to listen to reason.

“Where’s Elizabeth?” I asked him.

Mr. Connors’s eyes flashed and he pointed a thick finger at me. “You stay away from Lizzie.”

“I need to talk to her.”

“You need to keep the hell away from my daughter!” Mr. Connors roared, spittle flying out of his mouth. “I won’t have you contaminating her mind with your singing. If I find you near her, I will take care of you myself, boy.”

With that, he turned and stomped across the yard, kicking up sand as he walked.

* * *

There were only so many places a person could hide in an island as small as Swans Landing. I knew Elizabeth didn’t like to spend a lot of time at home, especially during the summer. Even though it didn’t really feel like summer that day, I decided to start my search at the beach.

I spotted two figures under the remains of the broken pier. A hurricane had destroyed half of the pier a decade ago, but it had never been rebuilt. What remained was technically off limits, but that never stopped anyone from going out on the pier when they wanted.

Jackie and Elizabeth were sitting on a big beach towel under the broken structure, far enough away from the water that it didn’t reach them whenever the waves rolled in.

I approached them from behind.

“You’ve been acting so weird lately,” Jackie complained. “What’s going on with you?”

“Nothing,” Elizabeth snapped, crossing her arms over her chest. “Nothing’s going on.”

“Well, you’ve certainly been in perpetual bad mood,” Jackie muttered.

They were so absorbed in their own conversation, they didn’t know I was there until I spoke.

“Hey.”

Their heads whipped around, craning to look up at me. Elizabeth’s eyes widened for a moment, her mouth falling open slightly. Jackie just sneered.

“Look what the tide brought in,” Jackie said, nudging Elizabeth’s arm with her elbow.

Elizabeth looked at me for a long time without speaking, then she said, “So you didn’t get eaten by a shark after all.”

I cringed, remembering the feel of the shark’s teeth ripping into my arm. “Not quite,” I said. I crouched down next to them. “Look, I need to talk to you about something very important.”