“The sailboat!” She sat on the dock, grabbed a life jacket, and shrugged into it. Scooting down gingerly, she clutched at the dock as the boat tipped under her feet.
“Sit in the middle, toward the back.” Ivor stepped in and pulled a line. The sail snapped into place. He took a piece of wood the size of a cupboard door and jammed it down into the deck, and the boat took off like it was alive.
Struggling to zip her life jacket, she shouted over the screams and the air horn. “Get your jacket on!”
He slid to the side, canting the boat, shoving the tiller. The boat flew across the surface of the water, silent, light.
A mechanical drone overrode the falling wail of the island’s alert. Isabella flashed past in a plume of white water, laughing maniacally, black hair fluttering. The sailboat bobbed in its wake, waves sloshing over the white fiberglass while Charlotte clung to the side with a death grip.
Just as Charlotte despaired of her choice, a mermaid leaped from the ocean, snatching Isabella clean off the vehicle. The machine rolled, bobbed back upright, sputtered off. Shaking her head in disbelief, Charlotte tried to process what she’d just seen. The creature was gray, with a dolphin’s fluke and small, sleek breasts, fuzzy brown hair like an otter’s, and long muscular arms tipped with lethal claws. When it opened its mouth, rows of teeth gleamed like daggers.
Isabella did not bob to the surface, did not swim for the jet ski. There was no thrashing fight in the water, just the slight chop of the waves. Ivor stayed focused on sailing the boat, his big legs folded high near his chest, his ass skimming inches from the water. Charlotte stayed focused on not screaming, and maintaining her grip on the slippery boat. She didn’t look back, but the screams from the island faded. The cruise ship grew larger, and then the wide, low tender zoomed out from the ship and roared toward them. Holding it in her sights, flinching with every ripple of the sail, she willed it toward them.
Long minutes later, it was close enough for hope. A huge, burly man stood on the bow with a machine gun. A thin, skeletal man stood on the rear with a flaming spear. They’d already picked up one person from a sea kayak, a sobbing teenage boy wrapped in a white towel.
As it headed toward them, Ivor threw her a look. “I think I’m falling in love with you. This cruise isn’t enough time. I want to see you when you go back to New York.”
“I thought you lived in Oslo.”
“It’s just a place.”
“I don’t like werewolf games.”
“We won’t play them. I promise. I’ll find you a wisp tutor, help you trace your lineage. You might have family.”
She licked her salted lips, heart still pounding in expectation of a demon mermaid. “I . . . I think I’d like that.”
He nodded once. “I’ll make sure you like it.” He sounded grim.
She reached out to touch the fist working the sail’s line. “Ivor, is Isabella . . . ?”
He shook his head. “I’ll have to enter negotiations with them to ransom her back, if they haven’t eaten her already. Greedy damned mermaids.”
The shuttle pulled up to the little sailboat, cutting its speed.
“Dinner tonight, my place. Wear the bikini.” Ivor stood, catching the rope they threw. His thighs flexed as he held his balance effortlessly, a Viking born to the sea.
“Arrogant stupidhead,” Charlotte sputtered.
He pulled them in closer, muscles rippling. “You have my sincerest apology for setting you up with Isabella. Please, Charlotte.”
The thin man wound the towline to the cleat of the tender. She relaxed. They’d made it away.
Sighing, she looked back at the dot of an island. Lights sparkled innocently across the water like diamonds. It would be very good to have a strong guide in this sometimes dangerous magical world. A protector. Almost as good as having a wonderful lover. “Yes, I’ll see you tonight. No fish. I’m in the mood for steak.”
He nodded. “Sounds good.”
You’ve reached the
WHITE ENDING.
✦
Click on this link to return to the Choice Index.
Dare to decide again!
