Chapter 14 Archie #2
Every story he’d heard as a child came back in a rush: maidens bewitched, men lured to sea, fortunes changed by a single glance from a Selkie. Looking at this one, it was easy to see how people might mistake him for a blessing. Archie knew better.
Archie’s body itched to charge, to close the distance and drive the knife home.
Instead, he forced his legs to walk, eating up the space slowly, keeping his focus loose enough to catch movement in the corners of his vision.
The waterfall roared, its spray settling in a fine mist over the slick rocks.
One slip and he’d go down. On wet stone, the Selkie would be more sure-footed.
One wrong move and the Selkie would get the drop on him.
Sea salt and rotten seaweed thickened the air.
He scanned the pool and the river above the falls for tell-tale ripples—anything that hinted at another shape beneath the surface.
The Selkie were so fluid in the water, they could move at speed without disturbing it.
Just because he couldn’t see them didn’t mean they weren’t there.
He drew his knife and raised it, letting the steel catch what little light was left in the valley. A warning to the Selkie that he was armed.
“You’ll never make it in time,” his smooth voice sung, deep and alluring.
The young Selkie pushed himself up, water sluicing from his skin.
The definition in his chest and stomach was unmistakable, each line of muscle shifting with careless ease.
His face might have been carved by the sculptures of a golden age: all sharp cheekbones and full mouth, a face designed to be admired.
He stood up and moved over the jagged rocks towards the water’s edge with effortless grace.
“I’ll take my chances.” Archie tightened his grip on the knife until his knuckles ached. The crossbow was buried in the boot of his car. No time for regret now—saving the children had been his first priority.
“Why?” the Selkie’s voice dropped to a rasp that scraped across Archie’s nerves.
A flash of memory cut through him—the same eyes, younger, wider, staring at him in the boathouse. Back then, there’d been fear. Now, there was none. Only anger. Recognition slid into place like a blade.
“You almost killed that boy for fun.” Archie’s vision sharpened, the edges of the world narrowing to the creature in front of him. His heartbeat pounded in his ears, matching the hammer of the waterfall. “Selkie aren’t supposed to be cruel.”
“Who are you to tell us who we are?” The Selkie straightened. His gaze hardened. “Or who we are supposed to be?”
“You need to be stopped.” Archie’s voice rose, bouncing off the wall of trees that cradled the waterfall. “You don’t get to go around killing children and walk away from it. Someone has to stop you.”
“I didn’t kill a child.” The Selkie spread long fingers across his chest, mock outrage twisting his features. His nails were a fraction too long, curved and sharp like small claws. The mayor wouldn’t have stood a chance against one Selkie, never mind a shoal.
“You killed my child.” The words scraped out between Archie’s teeth. The knife hilt bit into his palm.
“That wasn’t me.” A cruel smile tugged at the Selkie’s mouth, as if he was savouring the moment. “And I didn’t kill this one either.” He flashed a grin, lips peeling back to reveal teeth a little too pointed to pass for human. “We were just playing while we waited for you.”
Archie’s legs went unsteady. He shifted his weight, forcing his knees to lock. The river above the waterfall was their route inland. It’s how they’d reached Riverside last time. How they’d taken Rhys. He had walked into a trap, just not the one he expected.
“We knew you’d eventually come here,” The Selkie twisted a strand of his long black hair between his fingers, dragging out the torment. “My father left you a little present here last time we came. But…” He tilted his head and smirked. “I’m just a distraction.”
Archie lunged. The Selkie laughed and tipped backwards off the rock, sliding into the water with barely a splash.
Rage punched through Archie, hot and absolute. He barely registered the cold as he splashed into the shallows after him. If the Selkie dragged him under so be it. He’d go down taking the creature with him.
The change happened in a heartbeat.
Where legs had been, the water swirled—dark and strange.
The Selkie’s skin shimmered, light sliding off it in oil-slick colours.
Muscles twisted. Bone shifted. In the ripples his calves flowed together, feet lengthening and fanning, skin turning sleek and slick.
The lower half of the Selkie’s body snapped into focus — a thick, powerful tail, dark as deep water, tipped with a wide fin that sliced through the pool with effortless grace.
He broke the surface fully shifted, at home in the water in a way Archie would never be.
His torso rose above the waterline, every line of him streamlined and lethal.
He flicked his tail once and shot sideways with frightening speed, then stilled.
He watched Archie with a cool, patient focus, as if this were a game he’d already won.
Archie’s childhood had been full of stories about people flocking to the cliffs to catch a glimpse of a Selkie—a blessing, a sign of luck, a promise of love for those seeking a spouse.
Seeing one now, it was clear what the tales left out: the raw power in that tail, the ease with which he moved in the water, the cold calculation in those bright eyes.
Any glamour they might have once had was gone.
This wasn’t a legend. It was a predator from the Otherworld.
“You’re the one who made it personal,” The Selkie’s voice cracked. “You slaughtered us while we slept.”
“A Selkie had just killed my son,” Archie hissed, voice venomous and low. “What did you think would happen?”
“We take a few people into the sea because we need to survive.” The Selkie crossed his arms, lean muscles flexing as he shrugged, as if he were discussing the weather. “You should’ve been like everyone else on Latharna—going about your life oblivious to the world around you.”
“You came inland.” Archie pointed the knife at him, arm steady now. “You came for him.”
“He was easy picking.” The Selkie dipped his head for a moment, an odd parody of respect. “There were no fish and too many people on the coast to risk raiding a farm for chickens or catching a stray dog. We needed to eat. My father had no choice.”
“You don’t need to take people. You didn’t need to take him!” Archie yelled so loudly, a dog barked in the distance. Rage pulsed through him with such force, he feared it would tear him apart from the inside.
“The people of Latharna took from us for centuries.” The Selkie’s voice dropped to a low growl.
“We’ve been hunted for pleasure, and for superstition.
Skins stolen. Families broken. We’re no longer legendary—we’re dying.
” His eyes darkened, the bright blue deepening to something almost black. “And now we’re taking what we’re owed.”
“You know, I won’t let that happen.”
“That night, I watched you kill my aunts, my uncles, and my cousins. You killed my father right in front of me.” The Selkie’s jaw clenched, voice flattening into something cold and hard. “My mother was destroyed. Our shoal will never recover from what you did. From what you chose to do.”
“You…” Archie’s grip on the knife loosened.
Memories flooded in—the reek of blood and salt, the weight of the axe as he wielded it in fury, the way each Selkie tried to defend themselves in vain.
Heather’s voice in his head begging him to ignore all signs of the Otherworld. Rhys’ empty bed. Malachi’s hollow eyes.
He swallowed hard, throat burning. “You killed my son.”
“That was survival. And deep down you know that.” The Selkie’s mouth curled. “But now?” His whole body shifted, tail cutting the water with a single, deadly flick. “Now it’s personal.”
The hairs on Archie’s arms rose. The air changed, pressure tightening, the same feeling he’d had on the river just before everything went wrong. His gut lurched, as if someone had reached in and twisted.
Without another word, the Selkie turned and shot towards the base of the waterfall.
When he reached the falling water, his upper body melted into it, the line between creature and current blurring.
By the time Archie registered the movement on the rocks above, the tail was gone, and long legs were hauling the Selkie up the wet stone with impossible ease.
The force of the waterfall glanced off him as though it were nothing more than a heavy shower.
“I’m just a distraction.”
The words detonated in Archie’s head. His stomach dropped.
He spun and ran, shoes skidding on wet stone, then hammering the wooden bridge and the path beyond. All he could see was Riverside. Malachi. The river that ran behind their house…
He had to get home. Fast.