Chapter 12 Ina
Ina
“Are you two ready yet?” Ina kicked the banister at the foot of the stairs, the dull thud travelling up the house. No answer. She kicked it again, ignoring the sting in her toe. They were late. Again.
Steam still clung to the bathroom mirror from Archie’s shower.
He’d come back from the Polar Bear with confirmation the Selkie were back, muttered it like a verdict, then disappeared upstairs without discussion or a plan.
The mayor was dead. Murdered. And instead of tightening ranks, they were splintering through their own house like strangers.
It made no sense to leave Malachi here and then charge off on some half-baked investigation when the Polar Bear was crawling with police and spectators.
He was lucky he hadn’t been seen and hauled in for questioning, while the real threat lurked in the waters.
Archie always charged first and thought later.
At least Malachi had slept, giving Ina the quiet she needed to bake. Two carrot cakes sat in Tupperware on the counter. Cinnamon and nutmeg still hung in the warm air—comfort smells at a time when comfort was lacking. They were running late to the Johnston house and still had to swing by for Tilly.
The funeral would be at the weekend and was likely to be one of the biggest the island had ever seen.
Half of Latharna would show to pay their respects and the other half would attend for fear of missing out.
Tonight was their only opportunity to pay their respects in relative privacy—and listen.
Alcohol and grief loosened tongues. Martin was the mayor and a popular member of the angling club; the house would be crowded.
The Selkie never lingered long on land; they would strike again before they left. The sooner they got to the Johnston house, the sooner they could leave and work out what to do next.
Malachi appeared at the top of the stairs, still shrugging into his jacket. Deep shadows lay under his eyes. The nap had only made him look worse.
“Tie,” Ina raised her voice, sharper than necessary.
Malachi flinched, rolled his eyes and spun back to his room.
“I saw that.” Ina hated the eye-rolling—it meant she wasn’t being taken seriously.
She checked her watch again, fighting the urge to march upstairs and drag Archie down by the scruff of the neck.
It was important Archie talked to Malachi about the Selkie.
She’d sworn for years, she wouldn’t go against Archie’s wishes—but Malachi couldn’t stay in the dark much longer.
Not now. They’d made him vulnerable without meaning to.
If the Wolfendens no longer stepped into their role as protectors, then other entities from the Otherworld would become bolder.
Malachi reappeared and spun around to show off his blazer and tie combination, nearly losing his balance.
“Come here and let me fix that.” Ina adjusted the knot on his tie. “What’s your dad doing up there?”
“Isn’t he already downstairs?”
The door to Archie’s office opened on cue. Archie stepped out in his funeral suit.
“What were you doing in there?” Malachi peered past him, suspicion sharp in his voice.
“Paperwork.” Archie didn’t miss a beat.
“The desk looked paper-free to me.” Malachi gestured towards the desk. “Are you paperless now? I don’t see a computer.”
Ina held her breath as the space between them grew. Archie’s real office was in the Hideaway, but Malachi didn’t know that—yet.
“Ina even tidied it for you earlier,” Malachi pressed, clearly trying to goad Archie into reacting. Ina tried to catch Archie’s eye and willed him not to rise to the bait, but it seemed her brother had had enough.
Archie’s jaw twitched. The door slammed shut. The sound echoed down the hall. Neither of them moved, locked together in silence. The tension stretched tight like a wire.
“That’s enough.” Ina clapped her hands once, sharp and final. “Are we ready to go then?”
“I’ll meet you there.” Archie stayed braced against the office door. “I have to head back to The Wolf’s Den on the way home.”
“What for?” Malachi’s voice rose higher than his brows.
“Paperwork,” Archie winked at him—the gesture a fraction too late, the smile not quite landing.
“Whatever.” Malachi brushed past Ina and headed towards the kitchen. “Ina, I’ll drive.”
“With him driving it’ll be your wake I’ll be attending next.” A wry smile tugged at Archie’s mouth. “I’ll not let Tilly cater.”
Ina caught his arm before he could step away, eyes on Malachi rummaging for her keys in the kitchen. “Where are you really going?”
“Waterfall.” Archie straightened, but his voice wavered.
Ina nodded. The room tilted. For a heartbeat she was back at the waterfall—Rhys’ shoe streaked dark with blood, Archie’s screams tearing through the air and ringing in her ears…
She shut her eyes hard, forcing the memory down. If the Selkie were laying traps for the Wolfendens, the waterfall would be next.
“Already taken care of.” Archie met her eyes, understanding passing clean between them as it always did. He lifted his blazer to show the knife tucked behind his back.
“Be careful.” Ina’s hand tightened on his sleeve. “We’ll see you at the Johnstons.”
“Good luck,” Archie shouted towards the kitchen. “Keep an eye.”
“I always do.” Ina headed into the kitchen as Malachi stormed out. “Don’t slam—” The backdoor crashed shut behind him.