Now, sitting on the wall with the sea behind him and something bigger waiting ahead. Jeff felt small; a chapter in his life he’d finally outgrown.
“I’m glad you’re staying.” Ally’s shoulders loosened. “Sad Jeff is going though.” He added a bit too quickly.
They both glanced back at the car park, half expecting Jeff to return and finish the argument he’dtried to start.
“Me too.” Malachi hopped down from the wall and stretched, testing the pull in his torso. It held, stronger than he’d expected.
“Lunch is on me,” Ally wrapped him up in a hug that knocked the breath clean out of him. Rugby had turned him into something solid and unyielding.
Malachi winced, then held on anyway. His eyes burned. If tonight went wrong—if the Selkie refused to leave and things turned violent—this could be the last time he ever saw Ally.
He held on a second longer than Ally, letting the sea stay behind him where it belonged.
Chapter 24
Archie
The car juddered down the overgrown laneway towards the abandoned jetty at the West Harbour. Brambles scraped along the doors, the suspension groaned with every dip. The area hadn’t been used since Portmuck was revamped, becoming Latharna’s main harbour.
No one spoke a word as Malachi drove, knuckles white against the dark wheel. He didn’t fidget or glance sideways. His steadiness unsettled Archie more than nerves would have.
Archie had spent the afternoon pacing, managing only a fitful sleep on top of the covers. Despite the events of last night, they’d barely spoken all day—passing like ships in the night, avoiding one another until it was almost time to leave. Ina had sorted the weapons, while Archie made sure Malachi knew where they were going. He did, of course, but Archie needed to hear it said aloud.
His stomach churned. His hand tightened on his thigh until the muscle burned. The anger that had driven himthrough the night before had burned itself out, leaving something colder behind.
Blood would be spilled tonight.
He couldn’t push the image away, no matter how hard he tried. All he could do was pray Malachi wouldn’t see it. Or worse, be caught in it. He’d suggested leaving Malachi behind, but he’d refused. Stubbornness inherited from both parents. Ina pointed out that they needed him to drive. Whether he liked it or not, Malachi was part of their plan. Archie hated that more than anything else.
The Selkie would be waiting. And if things went wrong, Malachi would ensure they got away from West Harbour without any delay.
“Dim your lights and slow down,” Archie hissed to Malachi as they reached the track leading down to the Selkie’s nesting ground.
Malachi silently obeyed, easing off the accelerator. The engine dropped to a low, obedient hum. He’d been quiet all evening, lost in his own thoughts, hands steady on the wheel, but that didn’t reassure Archie nearly enough. It made his chest tighten instead.
After a lifetime of keeping Malachi away from the Otherworld, the weight of that choice pressed hard against Archie’s ribs. He should have trained him. He should have prepared him. After tonight, that would change. He would turn Malachi into a warrior rather than the vulnerable teen he’d raised. But tonight, all Malachi had to do was drive. And stay alive.
Archie glanced in the rear-mirror. Ina sat in the backseat, methodically cleaning her knife, movements precise and unhurried. Her grip on the hilt was sure. Almost too sure. She looked practically peaceful.
His stomach rolled again. Nausea, cold and slick, creptup his throat. He’d never backed away from a fight in his life, but now every instinct screamed at him to turn the car around. For half a second, he nearly said it aloud.
“Pull in over there,” Archie pointed to the old stone wall ahead. In the daylight it would’ve looked ready to collapse in a stiff breeze, but in the dark it would hide the car, and Malachi, well enough.
Malachi jumped, hitting the brakes hard. His hands jerked on the wheel. The first sign of nerves chinking through his armour.
Archie’s hand shot out, bracing against the dashboard as the car lurched to a stop. His pulse skidded with it, leaving a clammy handprint on the dash.
“Easy, love.” Ina slid the knife behind her back. Archie wasn’t sure if she meant him or Malachi. He didn’t know how she could sound like that—like this was nothing more than another one of her training exercises.
Malachi killed the engine. The silence rang loud in Archie’s ears. Malachi tugged off his seat belt and reached for the door.
“No.” Archie caught his arm, grip tight before he realised how hard he was holding. He loosened it at once, like he’d been burned. “We need you to stay in the car.”
“But—”
“Stay here and keep the engine running,” Archie forced his voice level around the tightness in his throat even as his chest constricted. “We might need to leave quickly.”
“What do I do?” Malachi’s hand slid over the steering wheel, fingers restless, as though searching for something to hold onto.
