Titles by Yasmine Galenorn
THE OTHERWORLD SERIES
Witchling
Changeling
Darkling
Dragon Wytch
Night Huntress
Demon Mistress
Bone Magic
Harvest Hunting
Blood Wyne
Courting Darkness
Shaded Vision
Shadow Rising
Haunted Moon
THE INDIGO COURT SERIES
Night Myst
Night Veil
Night Seeker
Night Vision
ANTHOLOGIES
Inked
Never After
Hexed
SPECIALS
Ice Shards
Etched in Silver
The Shadow of Mist
Berkley Prime Crime titles by Yasmine Galenorn
Ghost of a Chance
Legend of the Jade Dragon
Murder Under a Mystic Moon
A Harvest of Bones
One Hex of a Wedding
* * *
Yasmine Galenorn writing as India Ink
Scent to Her Grave
A Blush with Death
Glossed and Found
The Shadow of Mist
An Otherworld Novella
Yasmine Galenorn
J
Jove Books, New York
THE BERKLEY PUBLISHING GROUP
Published by the Penguin Group
Penguin Group (USA) LLC
375 Hudson Street, New York, New York 10014
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A Penguin Random House Company
THE SHADOW OF MIST
A Jove Book / published by arrangement with the author
“The Shadow of Mist” previously appeared in Never After, published by The Berkley Publishing Group.
Copyright © 2009 by Yasmine Galenorn.
Vanished copyright © 2013 by Yasmine Galenorn.
Excerpt from Autumn Whispers copyright © 2013 by Yasmine Galenorn.
Penguin supports copyright. Copyright fuels creativity, encourages diverse voices, promotes free speech, and creates a vibrant culture. Thank you for buying an authorized edition of this book and for complying with copyright laws by not reproducing, scanning, or distributing any part of it in any form without permission. You are supporting writers and allowing Penguin to continue to publish books for every reader.
JOVE® is a registered trademark of Penguin Group (USA) LLC.
The “J” design is a trademark of Penguin Group (USA) LLC.
For information, address: The Berkley Publishing Group,
a division of Penguin Group (USA) LLC,
375 Hudson Street, New York, New York 10014.
ISBN: 978-1-101-60537-0
PUBLISHING HISTORY
Jove Special / September 2013
Cover design and photo illustration: Emily Albert.
Cover images: “Sparkling water” © Ryan McVay / Thinkstock; “Seals relaxing” © Thinkstock; “Celtic cross” © Thinkstock.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
Contents
Also by Yasmine Galenorn
Title Page
Copyright
Letter to my readers
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
VANISHED
Playlist for THE SHADOW OF MIST
Special Excerpt from AUTUMN WHISPERS
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
To My Readers,
Thank you so much for buying The Shadow of Mist, and I hope you enjoy the novella. I love being able to tell the stories of secondary characters, and novellas are a good way to do so. Since some of you may have bought The Shadow of Mist when it first appeared in the Never After anthology, I decided to include a surprise with the e-novella, to give you a little extra. So many of my readers have asked for more about Maggie, the baby calico gargoyle who won the hearts of the D’Artigo sisters, that I wrote Vanished, a story all her own.
So I hope you enjoy both Siobhan the selkie’s story, and Maggie’s story. And in a few days, on September 24, 2013, you’ll be able to pick up Autumn Whispers, book fourteen of the Otherworld series. You can read the first two chapters included at the end of this special e-novella.
Enjoy!
The Painted Panther
Yasmine
1
I stared out over the water as the call of the waves sang to me. They raced in my blood, enticing me to shed my humanity and dive deep, to return to the Mother’s core. The Ocean Mother’s presence was strong here, and she was a part of me now, a part of my life like she’d never been on the distant shores of my old home. I’d lived long enough on the western coast of Washington State to realize that my old life was slowly receding into the past for good.
Oh, I was a lot older than the one hundred and one years that had passed since I first set foot on Ellis Island, claiming the United States as my new home, but my past was retreating, and I wasn’t sorry to see the memories fade, like aging photographs. Over the intervening years, life had shifted and changed drastically, and so had I. But now . . . now I felt ready to settle in as my true self. To fully adopt this land as my home, this life as my fate.
And even more, I was ready to step out of the closet and tell my neighbors, my employer, and the world who I really was. For the first time in my life since I fled under the cover of night to the waiting boat, I was ready to step out and say, I’m Siobhan Morgan, and I’m a selkie, a wereseal if you will. I’m part of the Supe Community and I’m not going to hide anymore.
Life in this country had treated me well. Oh, there had been setbacks and downfalls, but now . . . I patted the rounded curve of my belly, which up until the last few months had always been flat and toned. Now there was life within me, and I had everything I ever wanted.
“Little daughter,” I whispered to the presence within. “I’ve waited a long, long time for you. I just wish I could bring you into a world that wasn’t so hostile and angry.”
As if in reply, a faint kick from a tiny foot answered back. Or was it a flipper? Mitch and I would have to talk to the midwife before long to get clear on everything that would happen to me—and the child—during the birthing. I knew I would have her in the water, with the mothers of the Pod surrounding me. But beyond that, I wasn’t sure. Mitch and I had tried for so long to get pregnant, our hopes dashed time and again. And now, it was really happening, thanks to the elfin med ics that my friends—the D’Artigo sisters—had hooked me up with.
As I blinked against the gray clouds that were threatening a downpour during the autumn afternoon, my cell phone rang. I flipped it open, expecting to hear Mitch’s voice—he was the only one who knew where I was right now—but to my surprise, a deeper voice answered.
“Siobhan? Siobhan Morgan?”
Crap. I let out a cry and dropped the phone, staring at the glowing screen. Should I pick it up again? Could I be wrong? Could it be someone else? Praying I’d made a mistake, I cautiously retrieved the phone from the ground and slowly raised it to my ear.
“Who’s speaking, please?”
“You know damned well who I am. Don’t play dumb.” His accent had faded, as had my own, but it was the same rough tone I’d run away from all those years ago.
“Terry? Is that you?”
&nbs
p; “Yeah, it’s Terrance. And before you hang up—because I know you’re thinking about it—let me leave you with this thought: I’ve been tracking you down, girl. For a hundred years, I’ve searched for you. And now that I’ve found you, I’m going to make sure you live up to your end of the bargain.”
I caught my breath. It couldn’t be him. Not after a hundred years. I’d crossed the ocean to get away from him, and then crossed the continent. I’d run so far, so fast, leaving everything behind, that I could barely remember the days before I landed in New York.
What the hell was I going to do?
“It wasn’t my bargain, Terry. I didn’t make the arrangements, and I didn’t agree to them. In fact, if you’ll recall, I wanted you prosecuted by the Tribunal. But so much for justice. I claim my freedom. I claim injury by what you did to me that night. So you might as well turn around and go back home to Cobh, because I’ll never set foot on her shores again.”
“Babe, I left Ireland to find you, and I swore I’d make it happen, no matter how long it took. I’ve been home a few times, but I’ve spent most of the years combing this land. And now I know where you are. You can dance around the issue all you like, but the facts are simple. Even though you ran away and signed up with another Pod, your parents struck a contract with my parents, and you’re honor bound to fulfill it. Siobhan Morgan, you’re going to marry me. You belong to me, and I’m coming to get you. So resign yourself to your fate, because you’ll not get away from me this time. I’ll track you down no matter where you go.”
With that, the line went dead. I pressed my knuckles to my lips. I’d spent the past century moving from place to place, lying about who I was, darting glances over my shoulder to make sure Terry hadn’t followed me.
After twenty-five years, I felt a glimmer of hope.
After fifty years, I began to believe I’d managed to escape and went back to using my own name.
And after ninety, I relaxed, and that was when I met Mitch and fell in love. For most of the intervening years, technology had been in its youth, and until recently, tracking down someone who didn’t want to be found had been a whole lot harder. Until the Internet, I thought. That must be how he found me.
I flipped the phone shut and shoved it in my pocket as a drizzle began to splash to the ground, trickling down my cheeks like tears. The taste of acid rain burnt my tongue as I caught one of the fat drops and swallowed it. Water used to be pure. Water used to be sacred. Now, even in the depths of the oceans, it was tainted. But still, the Ocean Mother persevered. She rolled in waves across the face of the world. She sang to my blood and reminded me of what I was.
The sky lit up with a dizzying flash of lightning and I shook my head, clearing my thoughts as I dashed for the car. A roll of thunder rumbled overhead as I sat there, clutching the steering wheel, wondering what to do.
Mitch would know, if I could bring myself to tell him. And now that we were pregnant, surely the Pod elders would come around and help us out. But somewhere deep in my heart, I knew that I’d lied. I’d lied to all of them. Would that change how they felt about me? Whatever happened, I’d never willingly give myself over to Terry. I’d die first. In fact, at one time, I’d tried and failed.
“Siobhan Morgan, you won’t be defying your father.” Mother shoved me back into my chair. She looked harried and tense, and I had the feeling she hadn’t expected me to protest. “Terrance Fell is your betrothed and you will marry him. Your father and I gave our word. You’re honor bound to uphold our promise.”
I closed my eyes and leaned my head against the back of the rocking chair. The walls were in need of patching, and the roof leaked, and my mother was trying desperately to sweep the floor but the dirt and sand were thick.
We’d moved into the house six years before, when Father first brought the family out of the Orkney Islands, where we were starving, to the streets of Queenstown in Ireland. The dirt here smelled nasty, unlike the clean tang of the dirt in our old home. The house was always dusty, and too close to too many humans. I longed for the sound of rolling waves cresting on the coast of the islands, but here we had food, and my brothers and father could find work. We lived on the outskirts of the city, near the cove, keeping to ourselves as most of the roane did.
That was what our people were called here—the roane, rather than selkies, but I stubbornly held on to the name I’d grown up with. Selkie was comforting and familiar; roane was strange and confusing. As confusing as the ways of the city and the bustle of so many humans wandering through the streets. After six years, I’d adapted to living in their midst, but now I wished I’d never seen the streets of Queenstown.
“I won’t marry him! I won’t.” Angry, I tossed the dress I was stitching to the floor and balled my hands into fists. I’d never spoken to my mother like this, and part of me felt embarrassed and ashamed, but there was too much at stake to go along quietly.
“Pick up that dress. It’s your wedding gown—at least for the human ceremony.” Rhiannon rested her hands on her hips and stared at me. “Siobhan, you can’t betray us. Terrance is the prince of his people. He’ll assure that our family will never go without. He’s rich, he’s well placed in both human and roane society, and he has promised that you’ll never want for anything.”
I pressed my lips together and snatched up the dress. The linen crinkled in my hand and I wanted to slash it to ribbons rather than wear it for the man who had raped me. Father knew, and Mother. That was why Terrance had offered to marry me. He wouldn’t have to face the Pod Tribunal then.
But I’d know. I’d always know that my husband had forced me and then bought me for the promise of riches. The thought of his touch made my skin crawl and I let out a sharp cry.
“We aren’t roane. We’re selkie. He’s not one of us.” The fact that my parents knew what he’d done hadn’t swayed them. I’d already pleaded for them to take him before the Tribunal, but they were frightened by the power he held in Queenstown and among the roane. They tried to justify it, but I knew they didn’t want to rock the boat. I was the sacrificial lamb, offered on a silver platter to keep the peace and make the prince of the roane happy.
“You’re right—Terrance isn’t one of us, and that’s a good thing for the Pod,” my mother said. “You know the elders are calling for new blood. We’re dying, Siobhan. You can’t mate with our men. Inbreeding is killing our people. That’s why . . .”
She paused, then after a moment added, “That’s why I joined your father’s Pod. To bring new blood into the mix. No, it’s set. You’ll marry Terrance and become a princess, and bear his children for the good of our family and the Pod.”
I didn’t say anything. What could I say except to lash out at her again?
My mother paused, gazing at me out of the corner of her eye. Her voice was soft, almost gentle, as she added, “I know how you feel, my dear. I was brought into your father’s Pod in much the same way. He carried me off from my family and I couldn’t resist him, and so it was that I became Rhiannon of the Northern Orkney Pod. Your father married me and brought me to his people—my people, now—and we’ve grown to love each other over the years. The fact that Terrance agreed to align his Pod with the Cobh Selkie Pod is enough to wash away all his other sins, my daughter. We desperately need the new blood.”
I stared at her for a moment. Were all the women of our Pod simply prizes for men? “Are we like the Finfolk, then? Do women count for nothing? Should I just roll over and let any man have his way with me if you say it’s good for our people?”
“Hush. Don’t say such things. It’s not like that.” The pained look on my mother’s face made me feel good. I’d hit a tender spot. I wanted to twist the knife, but finally just shook my head.
“Then you don’t care that he raped me. And the Tribunal closes its eyes. My own parents are content to ignore what he did in order to put food on the table and to bring new blood to the Pod?”
Rhiannon let out a long sigh. “We all make sacrifices, Siobhan. We all giv
e up our freedom for the betterment of our families. Your family is the Pod. Your duty is to do whatever it takes to ensure the continuation of our people. Now dust off your dress and get back to your sewing.”
“That’s it, then?”
She shrugged to indicate the argument was over. “We’re going out tonight to the waters, and you need to finish the dress before day after tomorrow. You’re getting married, Siobhan. To a prince. He’s rich, and will give you children and standing. And he’s joining our people. Take joy in the thought of what you can do for others, and be glad he finds you attractive.”
As I settled down in the rocking chair, dress in hand, my thoughts raced ahead. I had two days. Just two days in which to ensure that Terrance would never touch me again. Two days in which to change a thousand years of tradition. Or . . . perhaps . . . maybe I didn’t need to change tradition. Maybe what I needed was to change myself—to put myself out of his reach.
Mulling over this new idea, I went back to my sewing, but with every stitch, I felt like I was tightening the noose on my future.
That night, standing on the edge of the harbor, I stared out over the darkened waters. Most of my family had already slipped back into their skins and returned to the sea. Selkies hid their skins when taking human form, and each of us had a safety cache in which to store them. Now I carried mine with me as the others had, in a satchel slung low on my hip.
I watched the water, mesmerized by the lapping of the waves. Then, slowly, I edged my way toward the breakers. I glanced around. Nobody near, no one to watch. I could safely change and slip out to sea, sleekly skimming through the currents. Maybe I should just keep going. Head into open ocean and see where it took me.
Chances were I’d end up shark food or caught by fishermen, but would that be worse than a life wedded to Terrance? Than bearing his hands on me night after night?
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