“Just trying to be polite.”
“Don’t. I prefer it when you’re rude. Is that weird?”
“Yeah. It tells me that you grew up being talked to roughly by the people who were supposed to care about you.”
She winces. “Kelpie herds are not places of love and gentleness. We’re wild, vicious, greedy, and hungry… always hungry.”
“What about your parents?”
“My mother always told me I was too soft. She thought that cruelty would make me tougher, but it only made me hate her. My father was the lead stallion. He was focused on two things—finding kills he could get away with, and mating with every mare in the area, kelpie or not.”
“Wait… he mated with regular mares?”
Her nose crinkles with disgust. “Yes, he did, even though it’s forbidden. To us, horses are on a higher level than humans. They’re family, in a sense, so there’s a law among kelpies that horses are not to be harmed. We don’t harm or devour them. They don’t even smell like food to us. And we don’t mate with them, because they’re beings of lower thought and they can’t consent.”
Rick doesn’t speak, but I see the rage and horror in his eyes over what I’m telling him. I think, if my father were here, Rick would throttle him. And even though he’d die in a face-off with a kelpie stallion, the thought makes me like him more.
“My father was like a cult leader, always able to reason his way around the rules and persuade his herd to make exceptions for him,” I continue. “He convinced them that he was special, chosen by the gods, a unique vessel of their will and therefore exempt from every law. He had thistechnique for singing to normal horses, keeping them silent and submissive when he was around, so they wouldn’t fuss when he did things to them. The world is a better place without him.”
“He died?”
“Yes. It was a strange and violent death, one he richly deserved.”
“Well… I won’t offer my condolences. Maybe my congratulations.”
A smile flickers on her lips. “Thanks.”
“So the other horse I saw out by Fuller’s Pond—”
“My sister. She wants me to rejoin the herd, ritually kill my mother, and take my place as the lead mare, or the alpha mare, as some call it. She has promised to cause bloody havoc around here if I don’t comply.”
“Wow.” I rub my hand over my jaw. “Your family makes mine look like the picture of health and stability.”
“I didn’t want to be like other kelpies.” Her gaze holds mine, earnest, intense. “I came here to get away from them and be a better person, someone who doesn’t hurt other people to feel better. We’re a family of serial killers and cannibals, basically. I’ve devoured human flesh before, just like the others in my herd. I haven’t done it in years, but it did happen, multiple times.”
“That’s not who you are now.” Somehow I’ve gotten closer to her. I don’t even know when I took those steps—it’s like my body was drawn to hers, like my subconscious moved me nearer to her instinctively.
“I still have to fight the rage and the hunger every day,” she whispers. “Some days are easier than others. The coffees I used to get from Lou—they helped me purgenegative emotions in a safe, controlled way so they don’t build up inside me and cause an involuntary shift.”
“I get it.” My hand glides down her arm, and goosebumps rise on her skin at my touch. “Listen, I know I’m new here, and that I don’t do things the same way Lou did—but I promise I can help you.”
She purses her lips. “I like certain things in my life to stay the same, and when there’s change, I like to be in control of it.”
“I understand that. But sometimes change can bring something better.” I smile ruefully. “Moving here wasn’t really my choice. I was no longer welcome in the city where I used to live. I didn’t like the way things were, and I complained about it too loudly. Made myself a nuisance.”
“Did they kick you out?”
“Nah, they were too civilized for that. But I got the cold shoulders and the side-eyes.”
She nods, slipping her hand along my waist, settling her palm against my lower ribs. “I’m accepted here, but only because no one really knows me. Most of the people in Crescent Cove aren’t aware of what I am. They’re friendly and kind, but I tend to keep a little distance between me and others. I guess I’m scared that if they find out what I am, they’ll pull away. Better to keep them at arm’s length.”
“Maybe they’d be more open to it than you think,” I suggest, cupping my hand over her hip. Her skin is impossibly soft. I haven’t touched a woman in a very long time, and I can’t stop my thumb from stroking back and forth along the hollow of her hip. “Are you cold?”
“Not really. Even in this form I’m a bit more resistant to temperature extremes than the average human. I’m stronger than most humans, too. Still… it wouldn’t hurt to share a little heat.” She glances up at me, her gaze hooded and suggestive. She drops the shreds of clothing, and I can’t help looking down at the area between her legs. It’s so closely trimmed it’s nearly bare, and it looks soft and tender. Just the right shape for my cupped hand.
Instead of going there right away, I take the locks of glossy black hair that are covering her breasts, and I lift them over her shoulders so the entire mass of her beautiful hair falls down her back. With a fragment of my T-shirt, I brush away the remaining grains of sand from her skin.
She makes a needy little hum in her throat and moves nearer to me, until her breasts push against my chest and her hips align with mine. I know she can feel the hardness beneath my jeans.
