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Chapter 19

"What was that?" Charlie asked, pushing out of Sin's arms.

"Wait here." Sin hurried outside. Charlie followed him. Michael's rented car sat unmoved, parked off to the side. The gulls cried out overhead, circling the water below the cliff. Sin hurried to the edge.

She slowly walked toward him. A shudder went through her.

"Stay back, Charlotte." He held his hand out for her to stop. "Go back inside."

She continued toward the overhang, looking down.

"I said to go back inside." Sin's voice rose over the crashing waves.

Michael's body lay face down in the water, as the surf bashed him against the rocks. She ran toward the trail. Sin grabbed her around the waist. "We've got to get him. We have to help him," she cried.

"He's dead, lass. The tide's in; you can't get down."

"We have to go to the police." She felt the hysteria in her grow. It was Michael at the bottom of cove. He might be a stupid boy, but he didn't deserve this.

"We can't, Charlotte." He held her face in his hands. "This was Sokolov's doing."

"Why would Sokolov kill Michael? What was he to him?"

"He was nothing to him, but my guess is that he had men watching him as soon as he started asking questions about you."

"Why?" She wiped the tears streaming down her face.

"Because you do mean something to him." His hand touched her stomach where the crest seared its vicious mark into her. "They saw him with his hands on you. They'll have wanted revenge."

"We've got to get him out. His parents need to know."

"Look at me, Charlotte." His grasp was firmer than necessary. "The sea will take him. He belongs to it now. We need to leave. We need to go back inside and get our things."

She fell to her knees, sobbing. "This is all my fault."

"No, my darling. None of this is your fault. This is the fault of evil men and spoiled lads." He helped her up. "Let's go back in. You pack our clothes, and I'll get the print."

"But—"

"No buts. We need to get moving."

Charlie placed their clothes in the bag, zipping it. She kept Sin's suit on the hanger and placed it on top of the table, then she climbed the stairs. Sin was kneeling in front of a chest, holding yellowed papers in his hands and staring at them. She walked up and stood behind him. The prints were all of the same woman in different poses in the cove, sketched in charcoal, and the only singularly distinctive characteristic was her lavender eyes.

"Who is she?" Charlie asked with a slight quiver to her voice as she took one from his hand. She knew the look in his eyes. She had seen a man in love before, the look of adoration he had when he looked upon his true love's face.

"She's selkie," he whispered, as though to himself.

"I thought it was a legend."

He stared at her for a long moment. "It is. It's just a story."

"Her eyes?" The drawings were old. He wasn't mocking her, yet she'd never known anyone to have the same color as her own.

"Part of the legend too."

"Are you sure it's just a fable?"

"No." He took the picture from her, shaking his head. "We need to go," he said, placing the papers back in the chest and locking it. She ran down the stairs and out the door toward the cliff. Michael was gone. The tide was fully in and the water had taken his body out to the depths of the sea and a watery grave.