Laurell Hamilton - Never After

Camille was lying close to the table. I leaned over her, resting my head against the wall of the RV.

“I’m just going to rest for a moment,” I said.

Lon shrugged and went back to whispering with Keith. As soon as he was focused on his conversation, I slid my right hand down to Camille’s ropes. I couldn’t risk using both my hands—they’d notice—but if I worked slowly, inch by inch, I could loosen the knots. Selkies were good with knot work—in fact, Celtic knot work was a specialty of ours, and during the seventies I’d been a big player in the macramé craze.

I ran my fingers over the knots. Simple. Practical. Knotted for speed, not for long term bondage. I worried the biggest knot, using my thumb to brace it while I used the nails on my index and middle fingers to dig at it. The gels were strong and after a moment or so, the knot loosened a little. After a little more picking, it was loose enough for me to get my fingers through and pry open.

Camille did her best to match my movements and ease the rope so I could catch hold of the slack. After a moment, I had the free end in my grasp and a couple of minutes later, I’d untied the knot. Camille gently worked her wrists until the binding cord fell away. I scooted forward enough to cover her so they couldn’t see what we’d done. She lay very still and I knew she was planning her next move. I closed my eyes to a slit, so it would look as though I was resting, but I could still see anybody coming up on us.

After a while, the RV made a sharp curve to the right and I tensed. Even through the walls, I could smell the water. We were near the inlet, with the cloying scents of brine and seaweed decay.

I sucked in a deep breath and whispered low, hoping the men couldn’t hear me, “We’re near the water.”

Camille nodded. “Bide your time. Wait until we stop.”

I touched her arm gently, to let her know I’d heard her, and went back to gathering my strength. I wasn’t sure what to do, but I’d take my cue from Camille. She was the one with experience in situations like this.

Another minute or two and we began to slow down. I raised my head and turned toward the front. Terrance was focused on pulling into what looked like it might be a parking lot, though I wasn’t close enough to the windshield to see. Lon and Keith finished their talk. Keith, hunched over to avoid hitting his head on the roof, made his way up front where he slid into the passenger seat.

“Get the waterweed ready,” Terrance said, and Keith grunted and returned to the back, where he foraged in the cupboard and came out with a jar full of cloudy liquid.

I cringed. The Finfolk were skilled at making potions that would allow an air breather to live underwater, at least for a time, so they could have their fun with them. As the potion began to wear off, they’d start their drowning games until they grew bored and let their victim drown for real.

When I still lived in the Orkneys, I’d known a couple of human women who had escaped from the Finfolk—a miracle in itself—and managed to make it back to land and escape before the Meré dragged them under one last and final time. But they’d been tortured so badly that they never fully recovered their senses.

I tensed as Keith headed our way with the vial of waterweed potion. The RV came to a stop and I realized we had to do something soon, because any moment now, they’d realize Camille had gotten free from the ropes.

I sucked in a deep breath. Camille tensed.

As Keith knelt down, I quickly backed away to give Camille room. She rolled over, arms up with fingers locked in a claw condition. In one smooth motion, she sprang into a sitting position and raked her long nails down his face, drawing blood.

Keith screamed and dropped the vial to the floor, where it smashed as he shoved himself away from her attack.

Camille leapt to her feet and I followed suit as Lon came lunging forward. She threw herself headlong at him, taking him down as she caught his legs with her foot and yanked, throwing him off balance. I frantically glanced around and saw the broken vial. Grabbing it up by the neck where it was still intact, I slashed it across his face. Blood spurted in a fountain and I stared in horror as he writhed, screaming and trying to cover his face.

Camille gave me a terse look, nodded, then raised her arms over her head. She clasped her hands into a solid fist, and brought them down hard, right across his nose. Crack. Flesh impacted on flesh and my stomach churned as I stared at the terrifying passion that filled her face. I was about to drop the bottle, to turn away and vomit, but she darted a glance at me.

“ Don’t you dare, Siobhan! I need your help!”

Her voice was so forceful that it startled me out of my horror—and just in time. Keith was coming around again, this time armed with a nasty-looking dagger.

We didn’t stick around. Camille slammed open the door, grabbed my hand, and yanked me out into a parking lot near the Sound. The water was being whipped into a fury by the wind that had sprung up, and dusk had fallen. I could barely see the waves but I could hear them, and they called to my blood.

As soon as we landed on the ground, Terrance came around the RV, a leering smile on his face.

Camille shoved me behind her and began muttering what sounded like an incantation. I hastily put more distance between us—her spells were powerful, but sometimes they backfired and the results were seldom pretty. Terrance backed up as her voice rose, his eyes widening.

At that moment, Keith landed beside me and grabbed me, the dagger at my throat. “Stop now or the selkie gets it.”

Camille whirled around, a smirk curling the tips of her lips. “I don’t think so. Terrance would kill you if you harmed her.” And then, without another word, she swung on Terrance and let loose a bolt of energy that lit up the gloom. Terrance shrieked and dove for cover, and in that moment, Keith let go of me and lunged for Camille, slashing at her with his blade. He caught her arm. I heard her groan and smelled blood.

At that moment, Delilah’s Jeep screeched into the lot, followed by a Jaguar. Menolly was up! I almost burst into tears. The vampire could make mincemeat of our attackers all by her lonesome. As I stumbled toward Camille, Keith let go of her and began to back away.

I looked back to see not only Menolly, but also Smoky—Camille’s six-foot-four, almost-albino dragon lover and husband—emerge from the car. His hair hung to his ankles, and now it swirled around him like a hundred hissing snakes. Oh shit . Terrance and his buddies really were dead men now.

I started to run toward Delilah when Terrance suddenly lunged forward and caught me around the waist. He forced something in my mouth—a sponge of some sort—and began dragging me to the railing. I struggled but he was a lot stronger than I, and even though Menolly raced toward us at breakneck speed, he was able to haul me over the railing before she got there.

I tried to scream, but the sponge began to melt and I tasted waterweed. Oh hell—he was taking me into the water as a human. I could swim, but without my seal suit, I’d be totally at his mercy. I struggled harder, scraping my shins on the wooden railing, but within seconds we were falling over the edge.

As I stared into the glassy depths rising to meet us, I realized that I was on my own for now. If I was going to survive, it would be up to me. And then we hit the water and sank beneath the waves.

We hit hard, jarring every bone in my body, and the world went silent; the only thing I could hear were bubbles as we sank in the turbulent water. As Terrance dragged me under, I struggled. He was starting to shift and he let go of me as the throes of transformation racked his body. Some shifters went through a lot of pain when changing; others barely felt a thing. Finfolk suffered; selkies didn’t.