Chapter 13

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

The drive to the Boston Harbor Sailing Club in Downtown Boston was thankfully uneventful. Ailín met them in front of the building, waving at Riordan as they walked up. Ailín was clan, a selkie who also owned a small yacht they used to take the handful of human members of the clan out to sea to join them for a swim. Riordan had requested yesterday for him to take Wade out onto the water while Riordan did his search around the smaller islands in Boston Harbor.

They didn't know where Niall might hide Saoirse's skin, but they were covering all their bases. And Riordan needed to patrol the shoreline anyway, Lady Caith's warning still stark in his thoughts. He didn't know if whatever he'd sensed in the water the other day was aligned with Niall, but if Niall was going after Boston, it stood to reason he'd claim the harbor as well.

"Riordan," Ailín said with a nod. "We're reserved for launch."

"Thanks," Riordan said.

Ailín eyed Wade intently, but there wasn't any malice in his gaze. Riordan didn't know what his siblings had been gossiping about with the clan, but Ailín's focus told him they'd probably mentioned Wade. "You must be the lad our clan chief is spending time with."

"Is that a bad thing?" Wade asked.

"Not unless you mean harm."

Riordan sighed. "I get enough teasing from my siblings. You don't need to start."

"Boyo, the whole clan is going to start" was Ailín's cheerful response before he turned on his heels. "Come on, let's get on the water."

The Boston Harbor Sailing Club was open to the public for lessons and sometimes tours, but being members meant they could head directly for the water. Riordan spotted the launch boat at the small pier, manned by an employee of the club. Directly beyond it, sailboats and small yachts of all kinds bobbed gently in the water, moored away from the shore.

"How many boats do you have?" Wade asked as they approached the small pier.

"We try to keep at least three on hand, moored or anchored in different locations. It was easier to shift on the shoreline when Boston wasn't so built up. These days, if we're swimming as a clan, some of us will shift at the shore, and the rest of us will do so in open water," Riordan said.

The sailing club employee gave them a cheerful hello once they reached the launch boat. They checked Ailín's paperwork for the appropriate mooring location and then set about releasing the boat from the dock to ferry them to the clan's yacht. The Neptune was thirty-five feet in length and capable of being handled by only one person if they knew what they were doing.

Everyone in the clan knew what they were doing in the water and on a boat. Ailín didn't need any help getting the Neptune unmoored once they were onboard. The launch boat pulled back with a dull roar of engines, heading back to shore. Riordan guided Wade to a bench near the cockpit so they could stay out of the way as Ailín went through the launch prep procedure before he finally untied the yacht from its mooring.

Ailín retreated to the cockpit, and a few seconds later, the engine roared to life, the sound of it vibrating through the deck. Wade looked around curiously as Ailín steered them out of the mooring area and into the open harbor waters, engines propelling them forward through the Boston Main Channel. Riordan had seen it all plenty of times before and was more interested in watching Wade. He manfully ignored Ailín's chuckling at the controls.

"This is pretty cool. I can see why you like Boston," Wade said, twisting around on the bench so he could take in the Boston skyline as they sailed away from it. Riordan couldn't help wrapping his arm around Wade's waist, holding him in place. "How far does your clan territory stretch?"

"We share the water with kin. No one owns the sea," Riordan said.

"Niall wants to."

"Yes."

Wade turned back around to better see him, the lenses of his sunglasses carrying a few stray droplets of water from the breeze. "I won't let him."

Riordan smiled, trying to choke back all the twisted emotion tied to the bitter position he'd been put in. He wanted to believe Wade could help, but Riordan wasn't going to let the younger man risk himself in any way. He couldn't live with himself if he let that happen. So he said nothing in the face of that promise, merely closed the distance to kiss Wade, letting himself catalogue the taste of him, the way he felt pressed so close.

It didn't take very long until they made it out of the Boston Main Channel and were far enough from any nearby boats and barges before Ailín gave him the all-clear signal. "You can shift now."

Riordan reluctantly pulled away from Wade and stood, the movement of the yacht something he easily compensated for. He took a moment to scan the horizon, mentally placing where the yacht was in relation to where he'd be swimming. The Boston Harbor Islands and National State Park was an area his clan and the whole kin in Boston knew well. The clans shared patrol duties, and Riordan knew he wasn't the only one who'd been sensing something off in the waters lately. Lady Caith's warning had been enough for him to sound the alarm with every clan that no one should swim alone.

It was why he had Ailín with him, even though the other man wasn't going to join him below the waves. He'd follow along behind Riordan's underwater trajectory, sticking close and keeping an eye on Wade. "I'll do a circuit around Spectacle Island first and then Long Island. I don't want to go too far out since we have plans tonight."

They were still expected to meet with Abhartach at the master vampire's absinthe bar, and Riordan knew they couldn't miss it. But neither could he shirk his duty as clan chief, not while he still held them.

He shrugged out of his jacket, some deep part of him wanting to turn and hand it to Wade for safekeeping for the handful of minutes it would take him to undress. He swallowed against the urge, doing the expected thing instead and handing his jacket to Ailín.

"I can go with you," Ailín said.

Riordan shook his head. "Stay above with Wade. He doesn't know how to handle a yacht."

Ailín nodded, not arguing his order the way Donal might, but not looking comfortable with it either. Riordan pulled his T-shirt off and stripped out of the rest of his clothes with a perfunctory ease he didn't really think about, not until he clued in to the flush on Wade's face and the way he jerked his gaze away from Riordan. The fact that he'd been looking and hopefully liked what he saw made Riordan want to preen.

Focus.

"Good hunting," Ailín said, handing back his jacket. Riordan slipped his arms through the sleeves, warmth bleeding into his skin.

"Yeah, don't let anything eat you," Wade said.

"Except you?" Riordan couldn't help but ask before diving overboard. Wade's embarrassed squawk became muted by the water that closed over Riordan's head, muffling the world.

The water was cold, the brief shock of it a welcome sensation. Riordan somersaulted forward, sealskin clinging to his body and flowing down his limbs. His legs fused together, fingers too, body expanding into the massive sleek shape of a seal. He used his flippers to propel himself to the surface, head breaking the waves. He unclenched his nose, breathing in a lungful of air, and stared up at the human faces peering over the side of the yacht.

"You fit better in the bay than the bathtub," Wade told him. Riordan barked at him and slapped the surface with one fin. Wade laughed at him. "Go swim. We'll follow."

Riordan dived back underwater, the sounds of ships in the bay distant, muffled vibrations against his body and in his ears. Everything sounded so different in his seal form like this. He could distinguish individual noises and place their location better than with his fae ears on land. While selkies didn't have any echolocation abilities built into their bodies, his magic more than made up for it.

The sea was where selkies thrived; being bound to someone on land against their will meant they would never fully be able to access their magic again. It was tied to their skin, to the vast world they swam through. Their magic would always lead them home, and the cruelest path back would be to follow that ever-present tug and stand on the shore of the place you couldn't visit anymore.

Riordan shook off those thoughts and swam faster, as if he could outswim the problems menacing his clan. The waterways of the harbor were busy today, but he knew best how to steer clear of the various ships traversing the waves. He came up out of a deeper dive and broke the surface, drawing in another lungful of air. Spectacle Island was closer now, the rocky shore fading into greenery that hadn't yet turned brown from summer's heat. Riordan slid back underwater again, swimming through its depths. The push and pull of the tides ebbed against his body as he swam, instinct guiding him around the underwater borders of the island.

Part of this kind of border patrol was to hunt out any water-based threats or encroachment on all the clans' territory. Selkies couldn't scent mark like werecreatures could, but they still marked their territory by embedding bits of their magic in the seabed. The marked points were centuries old at this point, so rich with magic that they shone like lighthouse beacons to his underwater sight. Riordan swam around one particularly large rock protruding from the seabed, nosing around the markings someone had clawed into the stone so long ago. In the murky darkness, the sigils glowed a soft violet in his sight, and he added a bit of his own to what was already there. The pull of it stretched away from the point of contact, disappearing into the depths.

Long gone were the days when the clans could lay active spells to guard their territory. The explosiveness of those spells drew too much attention, and no clan wanted to be responsible for causing the human government to target them. That way lay too many problems. Their kind thrived best when no one knew they walked or swam among mortals. To that end, the border magic was passive, a kind of magical warning system scattered throughout the bay. Selkies could touch that magic and get feedback on any broken area that needed looking into.

Like now.

The dull, discordant vibration that tickled down Riordan's spine made him spin in a tight circle around the sigil stone, the thread of damage tugging his awareness eastward. It wrapped around the southern tip of the small island, passing through other sigils, following the hint of damage to an area closer to the open ocean than the shore—coming from the same direction that unnerving sound had stemmed from the other day.

Riordan swam another circle around the sigil, getting his bearings, before swimming back to the surface and breaking it, getting another breath and to check where the Neptune was in the water. He got a flash of it in his peripheral vision, Ailín keeping up with long practice and the familiarity of how they all swam the borders. He dove back under, picking up speed and swimming beneath the waves. Water flowed past him, the murkiness navigable with the help of magic. He swam beneath a handful of sailboats out enjoying the summer day and ignored the distant noise of a cargo ship's engine vibrating through the water.

He followed the ping of broken magic to the southern tip of Spectacle Island, his trajectory through the water curving east. He worried about what could have damaged a sigil stone in the net and when it might have happened. None of the other clans had indicated the warning system had been hit, which meant it must have been recent, possibly even today, and he couldn't ignore the possibility it was Niall's doing.

All of his worry, all of his planning, fled his thoughts as the flow of water changed and something rose up from the seabed floor to slam into him and careen them both through the water.

All the air exploded out of his lungs, bubbles fizzing past his eyes as the water twisted into the shape of a nightmare around him. Riordan clamped his nostrils down tight, but there was no air left in his lungs as a fuath wrapped its arms around his body. Claws raked over his skin, clouding the water with his blood. Riordan twisted, jerking his head to the side, trying to bite at its throat. The fuath jerked, its arms loosening a fraction, but it was enough for Riordan to get free with a punch of magic that created a whirlpool at the end of his rear flippers to propel him to the surface. He broke through with a thick gasp, sucking in air, managing a few warning barks that carried through the air with another burst of magic before he hit the water again and went under.

This time, he was prepared.

Nostrils closed tight, air locked in his lungs, Riordan swam after the fuath, following the eddies in its wake as it dived deep. What might have passed as bioluminescence in anything else outlined its body in pale, pale blue, giving breadth to long limbs with spines running down the length and webbed fingers, eyes that took up half its face and a gaping mouth that took up the rest. As it twisted and came hurtling back toward him, Riordan could just make out the stream of kelp that passed as hair beneath the bubbles that sloughed off it.

Riordan met its underwater charge with his own, slamming his body into its scaly one. Fuath were water spirits, a kind of fae that haunted any body of water, be it fresh or salt, large or small, hunting for prey. It clearly seemed to think Riordan was in that category, and he went about disabusing it of that notion by tearing a chunk out of its side with his very sharp teeth.

Bitter blood filled his mouth and the water around them, darkening the area like squid ink. The fuath screamed in a way that was more vibrations than anything else, a dull sound that pressed all along his body. Riordan spat out the chunk of flesh resting on his tongue and kicked all four flippers, swimming out of reach of the claws that sought revenge. He sped for the surface, needing more air in his lungs, and had almost reached it when another fuath hurtled through the water from the north. Riordan somersaulted out of the way in a tight spin, reorienting himself in a matter of seconds. He made it to the surface, broke through the waves, and managed to bark another warning and suck in one lungful of air before something slimy wrapped around one of his rear flippers and yanked .

He went under.

The speed at which the fuath dragged him to the bottom of the bay to drown him left Riordan's entire body spinning. He broke the motion by diving down instead of trying to kick free, aiming for the threat with sharp teeth and a blast of water magic that rippled away from him. It hit the fuath like a wave slamming against the rock, forcing the water spirit's tentacle to let go of his flipper. Riordan kicked free, swimming after the fuath with the intent to kill it, but had to pull up with a hard twist as the other fuath attempted to attack from behind.

Claws raked his side as he spun away, lips pulled back over sharp teeth as he bared them in warning at the fuath. The pair of water spirits regrouped, the faintly glowing outlines of their bodies brightening the bottom waters of the bay. With an open-mouthed echoing scream, the fuath attacked, trying to somehow box him in. Riordan reacted with a snarl and twist of his body, biting at anything that came within reach even as he used the smaller claws at the ends of his flippers to keep the fuath at bay.

Another slimy tentacle wrapped around his middle in the melee, squeezing with the intent to force all the air out of his lungs. Riordan kept his throat locked tight, nostrils clenched closed, and furiously bit at the second fuath that was trying to disembowel him.

Then the tide changed, pulling back like a riptide. Riordan braced himself as the tide came back, a wall of water slamming into all three of them, guided by Ailín's sonorous shout. The tentacles holding Riordan in place ripped away, the force of water magic tearing into the fuath. Riordan flapped a flipper at his clanmate as Ailín appeared in the depths, magic caught in his teeth.

Riordan somersaulted to reorient himself, both of them facing the faint glow of where the fuath were regrouping. Ailín rolled close, headbutting Riordan in the side. Riordan nudged at him with a flipper before twisting in a tight roll to indicate what he wanted. There was no speaking deep beneath the surface. Communication happened through body language, and selkies had long since learned how to hold conversations beneath the waves without a word being said.

Ailín dipped a flipper in agreement, breaking to swim to the right, while Riordan swam left. They didn't attack the fuath, not directly, choosing instead to swim in circles around the water spirits at a speed aided by magic. It pushed them faster and faster, spilling from their teeth and away from their flippers to catch the water in a whirlpool that spun tighter and tighter with the fuath at the center.

Riordan spun out the magic, letting it flow from him into the water and the roaring whirlpool they created. The pull of the tightly spinning water forced Riordan and Ailín to alter their swimming trajectory, getting clear of the powerful whirlpool. They kept swimming, kept spinning the whirlpool tighter with their water magic until the glowing fuath were torn apart, bright bits of them getting scattered through the whirlpool.

Riordan somersaulted and let the magic fade. Ailín followed his lead, and they both swam for the surface, leaving the dead to sink to the bottom of the bay. Riordan broke the surface some distance away from the Neptune , opening up his nose and throat, hauling in a desperate gasp of air that filled his lungs until it hurt. He bobbed there for half a minute, just breathing, as Ailín swam a nervous circle around him. Eventually, Riordan rolled to his side and smacked a flipper against the small waves and started to swim for the yacht.

Ailín swam alongside him, both of them diving in and out of the water. As they approached, Riordan could see Wade practically hanging over the side of the yacht in an unsafe manner. Riordan barked at him, but Wade didn't know what the warning meant. Diving back underwater, Riordan twisted out of his sealskin, snagging the fur and tying it around his waist before kicking back to the surface. He treaded water near the yacht, aiming a small splash of water at where Wade hung over the railing, hands braced against the hull of the yacht.

"Get back on the boat!" Riordan yelled.

Wade had the temerity to flip him off. "Don't tell me what to do! What was that? I saw you get pulled under, and then there was a whirlpool in the water."

Ailín broke the surface a few feet away in human form, his sealskin draped over his shoulders. "Don't fall out of my boat! You don't have a life jacket on."

Wade scoffed at both of them, clearly not bothered by the risk of falling overboard, before extending one hand. "Come on, I'll help you up."

If Riordan didn't know what Wade was, he'd laugh at the idea that Wade had the strength to haul him up. But he did just that, grasping Riordan by the wrist and lifting him onto the yacht with an ease that left Ailín gaping in the water behind them. Riordan kept his attention on Wade's face, watching the way his dark eyes flicked down Riordan's nearly naked body and back up again, face flushing a little. Riordan preened, ignoring the arched eyebrow Ailín sent his way after Wade hauled his clanmate onto the yacht.

"Clothes," Wade said, tossing outfits at both of them. "Get dressed before someone other than me gets an eyeful."

"Bit prudish coming from someone who is pack," Ailín said teasingly.

"It's more that I don't have any legal clout up here in Boston to talk my way out of a ticket," Wade retorted. Riordan laughed but got dressed quickly to put Wade at ease. His clothes stuck to his wet skin, but it didn't bother him all that much. Ailín got dressed before he checked their positioning in the water. Wade hovered over Riordan, eyeing him critically. "You smell like magic. Was the whirlpool your doing or whatever tried to drown you?"

"Fuath were in the water, and they haven't been for years. We cleared them out at the turn of the century. Ailín helped me tear those two apart with the whirlpool," Riordan said.

"Do you think those things were what Lady Caith warned us about?"

Riordan shook his head. "I think there's something else hiding in the water."

The fuath didn't sound or feel like the presence he'd felt the other day on his patrol. They hadn't filled him with a kind of fear that could drive him to find safety on land. He leaned over to rub at his right ankle, still feeling a lingering ache from being grabbed and hauled about by the fuath. As he lifted his head, a shiny foil Pop-Tart packet was shoved into his face. "Eat this."

Riordan stared past that at Wade. "I know for a fact Ailín doesn't store food on the Neptune."

Wade rolled his eyes and jiggled the packet again. "This is mine, and if you did magic, you need to eat so you don't get hangry."

"Oh."

Considering Wade had seemed willing to bite off Riordan's hand if he stole a cannoli the other day, being offered a treat from Wade's portable snack haul wasn't something he would ever say no to. Pop-Tarts weren't his favorite thing to eat, but it tasted damn good coming from Wade.

Wade crossed his arms over his chest and watched him eat. "So what now?"

"I need to fix the warning sigils they damaged."

Ailín popped his head out of the cockpit. "I can steer us east. Waterway is clear enough for now, but when you go under, I'm coming with you."

"Wade needs—" Riordan protested.

"I know how to swim. Sitting on a boat in the bay while you two do whatever you need to isn't a problem. I'll be fine. I don't know if you will be, and I can't follow you into the water. I'm not built for it," Wade interrupted.

Wade sounded frustrated, brows furrowed in concern. Riordan reached for his arm, pulling it free so he could hold Wade's hand, giving his fingers a squeeze. "Selkies are, and we know how to survive in it."

Wade leaned over to poke him in the chest. "You better, because while I can sit on a boat, I can't steer it. One of you will have to take me back to shore for lunch and dinner because I'm not dealing with vampires tonight on an empty stomach."

Riordan laughed, pulling Wade down to sit beside him on the bench. "I promise I'll feed you."

"Good," Wade said, a smile on his lips that Riordan let himself kiss away.