Page 65 of Blood on the Tide

I inhale deeply and dive below the surface, cutting through the water to where Siobhan is prying the hole open even further. In the distance, a body sinks into the depths, boneless in the way that only the dead are. There’s no room for guilt inside me. While I have pity for those who have been forcibly conscripted by the Cwn Annwn, the reality is that we have no way of knowing who is a potential ally and who is an enemy intent on our deaths.

If they come at us, we have to kill them.

The thought makes me sick, but I’ll have the luxury to feel guilt later. If we survive this. Right now, I have to focus on getting Lizzie to that hole and inside. She’s resisting me, her body tight and tense as I tow her toward it. Because she doesn’t trust me to be able to take care of myself without her looking over my shoulder.

Pride is a wicked thing, and even at this point, I’m victim to it. I am so damned tired of being considered a victim. A selkie who lost their skin, a cliché that hurts me right down to my heart. Reclaiming that part of myself has gone a long way to heal that, but the wound still aches inside me. I won’t let her experience even a sliver of the same regret by passing up this chance to reclaim what she lost.

Lizzie makes a sound and her fingers dig in tighter to my harness, but I’m having none of it. I twist my body back on itself and shove her into the hole, pushing her with my tail until she’s all the way through. And then I dive again, taking refuge in the darkness below. If someone comes to investigate or attempt to patch the hole, I will deal with them. But my job now is to wait until Lizzie and Siobhan have returned and then get them to safety.

Even so, part of me expects to see Lizzie back through the hole, diving down to give me a piece of her mind. It’s not disappointment I feel when she doesn’t return. It’s worry. Foolish. Lizzie is the most efficient killer I’ve ever met, and she won’t hesitate to remove anyone standing between her and her goal. She’ll live through the night. I’m certain of it. I have to be.

A body hits the water, diving deep before it turns and shoots its way toward the hole. Even in the darkness, this person is moving too efficiently to be a kind of paranormal more comfortable on land. This must be the half mermaid, Lucky.

I wait until they have their back to me, their hands frantically touching along the hole, until they shoot back to the surface to give their report. Attempting to patch it from the inside is a fool’s errand. Even now, water will be rushing into the hull. The only way to patch it is from the outside. Which means that the mermaid will be returning.

Mermaid. I shudder at the thought. I have only seen mermaids once in my life, and once was more than enough. They frenzy, killing each other and their victims at the same time. They’re damn near unstoppable, not needing to surface to breathe, not needing to slow down. It defies belief that someone associated with one of them long enough to breed a half-human child. I desperately don’t want the details of that union.

But that’s the least of my problems. Lucky is back, and this time they have a webbed bag full of tools to patch the hole. Not on my watch.

I wait until they turn to their task before I shoot up out of the darkness. I move fast as lightning, intent on surprising them. They’re part mermaid, they can’t drown, which means I’ll have to find another way. A broken neck, like the water horse. Or blunt force.

But the moment before I strike, Lucky spins. Ready for me. Hands outstretched and a wicked grin on their face. A trap.

And I swam right into it.

I’m going too fast to divert my charge. That’s the only thing that saves my life. I catch sight of the glint of a knife in their hand as we collide. If I had turned, they would have attempted to gut me.

I knock them into the side of the ship hard enough to rattle my brain in my skull, and pain pricks my side as they drive the knife into me. But I won’t go down that easy. In this form, I have a thick shield of blubber to keep me warm in even the coldest temperatures, and it protects me now. Being stabbed hurts, and I won’t be able to fight indefinitely, but I’m not going to slow down yet.

I thrash, battering them against the side of the ship with everything I have. If I can make them drop the knife or knock them unconscious, the fight will be over. They cling to the weapon, stronger than they have any right to be. Over and over again they stab me as I slam them against the ship repeatedly, desperate to end this.

I break away, but I’m moving far less smoothly than I was previously. I shouldn’t have taken my protection for granted. My blood joins Siobhan’s victim’s, coating the water around us. I dive deep, desperate to put some distance between us, to assess how bad the injuries actually are, but the mermaid follows me, intending to attack my exposed back.

I twist at the last moment, slapping them with my tail and sending them spinning away from me. They catch themselves almost immediately. I can’t see how they’re moving so well, not when they’re mostly humanoid. They aren’t quite as fast as I am, but they’re agile enough to be a threat.

They charge me, and it’s everything I can do to spin away before they make contact. I might be able to hold my breath for a very long time, but that doesn’t change the fact that I do have to breathe eventually, and the fight is taking more energy than I expected. If I make it out of this alive, I’m going to train in underwater combat so that I’m never this helpless again.

Lucky keeps coming. I dodge again and again, but far too late I realize that they’re driving me deeper into the depths. Farther away from the air I need to survive. In desperation, I swat at them and bolt past, heading for the surface.

I can feel them behind me, and if they’re not gaining, they are close enough that I’m not certain I’ll make it. Even as the thought crosses my mind, their hand closes around my tail and jerks me back. Bubbles escape my nose, precious oxygen.

We’re close enough to the surface that I can see the light of the moon glinting off the waves above. To my right is the lurking darkness of the Crimson Hag. So close, and yet with this mermaid crawling all over me, slashing and stabbing, it might as well be on another realm entirely.

I was so confident when I told Lizzie I didn’t need her to watch my back. What a fool. My thoughts go muddy and strange, but I keep fighting even as my movements weaken, becoming sluggish and slow. The mermaid’s bleeding me out, a thousand small cuts to do their dirty work more effectively than one big attack.

I catch movement out of the corner of my eye, and my despair gains wings. I could barely hold my own against a single combatant. How can I possibly do it against two? It’s over. I’m dead. I don’t stand a chance.

I’m sorry, Lizzie. I love you. I’m sorry.

But when the third person collides with us, it’s not me they go after. They wrap their hands around the throat of the mermaid, and even as blurry as my thoughts are, I can hear the snap as they break Lucky’s neck and then rip their head from their body. Blood is so thick in the water that I can’t see, can’t think.

Instinct guides me to the surface, to take the breath that I desperately need. It’s as if that influx of oxygen conveys to my brain just how desperate my condition is. It’s bad. Really, really bad.

My savior surfaces next to me, her dark hair plastered to her face. “Maeve! Maeve, talk to me.”

Lizzie.

I might laugh if I had the mouth for it. Talk to her? I’m a leopard seal. But as she runs her hands over me, my thoughts slow further. Is she... stopping my bleeding? If I had my human voice, I would tell her that I think it’s already too late, that I’ve lost too much blood—for real this time. That it’s not her fault.