Her Selkie Harem

by Savannah Skye

  "Half-cocked and having no clue what we were walking into. If the place was crawling with guards like you said, we’d be dead, and Saorise would still be in their clutches."

  "Saorise still is in their clutches!"

  "But we're still looking for her," pointed out Patch. "Which we wouldn't be able to do if we were dead. We'll find her."

  "How?" Connor snapped the question out like a whip crack. "Answer me that, Patch. Answer me that or stop being so fucking upbeat. It was only luck that led us here."

  "It was Saorise who led us here," Declan put in. "She was strong enough to find a way to get word to us. And she will be again."

  "She may not have the choice," growled Connor. "She may have already used what little strength she had left to give us this chance and we - I - blew it. I never even considered they’d close up shop and move like that."

  I wanted nothing more than to reach out and squeeze him, but I held back.

  "Will you stop the pity party," snapped Patch. "This is about Saorise, not you."

  "You think I don't know that?"

  "I think you're wallowing in your own grief rather than trying to solve the problem we now have." He went to his brother, speaking more kindly. "This isn't Eileen. It's not the same. We won't let it end the same way."

  I saw Connor flinch at the name Eileen and wondered who she might be.

  "And how do you plan to stop that?" asked Connor again, unable to see anything beyond the oppressive bare walls of that empty basement.

  "You can't move a club-full of supernatural creatures, plus, all fixtures and fittings, without someone noticing," pointed out Declan. “And they can’t have gone out of the country without papers and the like. Clubs like this only thrive in wealthy cities surrounded by other oddities and almost hiding in plain sight, and there is no better place than here.”

  Patch nodded. "There you go. Out of the mouths of pups.”

  Connor looked a little less certain now but still clung on to his relentless negativity. "Who do we ask? Who on earth is around at that time of night to see them go and how would they know where they were going?"

  A flash of inspiration hit me. "I know someone we can ask."

  "Thanks, Miss." Stanley sat up in his doorway to take the coffee I had brought him, along with a breakfast bagel. He looked around at my companions.

  "Not cops, are you?"

  Like most homeless people, Stanley had a pathological fear of the police, which is sad when you think about it.

  "No," Patch chipped in cheerfully. "We're friends of Sienna here, just wanting to pick your brain."

  Stanley shrugged. "For a coffee and a bagel, you can pick anything you like, even my nose."

  "Well, we'll start with your brain and see how it goes,” Patch said with a grin.

  "Stanley," I said, taking charge, "did you see or hear any trucks going through here last night? They'd have been moving furniture and some...livestock," I finished, swallowing hard.

  Stanley sipped his coffee, wincing at the heat, and nodded. "You mean the Twisted Club? Yeah, they moved on last night."

  I blinked at him in shock as the guys all gaped, just as stunned. "You know about the club?"

  Stanley smiled wanly. "One thing about being homeless, you become invisible. People talk about all sorts around you, like you're not even there - because you don't really count as a human being."

  "Sometimes, that’s a good thing," muttered Connor.

  But Stanley clearly heard him. "I thought as much. And if I'm guessing right, then I can answer your next question; yes, they had a female with them. They had her in a covered tank but I caught sight of her for an instant when the covering slipped as they were moving her. And she looked just like this fella here,” he added, jabbing a dirt streaked thumb toward Declan.

  His words left me reeling but luckily, Connor stepped in.

  "Do you know where they were heading?"

  Stanley shook his head. "No."

  We all slumped; the trail had hit a dead end.

  "But I can give you a list of all the possibilities because they were talking them through the whole time they were loading up. I actually jotted them down.”

  Our hanging heads all shot back up again and my heart pounded wildly. "What?"

  “I try to mind my own business about this kind of stuff, mainly because I don’t want to end up in a cage myself and you’d be surprised how quick they are to throw you in one when you start spouting off about magical creatures and disappearing freak shows, but then I came across a couple things that had me considering calling in an anonymous tip."

  He took another sip from his coffee and handed it to me before he loped away, toward a makeshift tent constructed of an old tarp and some rope.

  When he emerged, it was with a bag in one hand and a wrinkled piece of paper in another. He held the latter out to Declan, who took it with a nod of thanks.

  “We appreciate this more than you know,” he said solemnly.

  Stanley shook his head and let out a sigh. “They’re an evil bunch, and I’m glad to see the last of them. Now I just have to find a resting place for this fella. They tossed this in the dumpster on their way out, triple wrapped in packaging and the like, but I knew it was something bad. Brace yourselves."

  A nauseous feeling swept through me as I braced myself as much as I could but nothing could have prepared me for the sight when Stanley opened the bag to reveal what was inside.

  I drew back with a gasp as I peered down at a tiny body. The creature was only about nine inches long, but looked elderly if the lines on its face and its gnarled hands were anything to go by. It had a large nose, pointed ears and a mouth that was almost a muzzle. Its unseeing eyes were jet black.

  "It's a Kobold," said Connor, his voice level with barely controlled rage. "A type of German gnome."

  Stanley nodded.

  "Well, at least he’s out of the hellhole now. Will you give it a decent burial for me?"

  Connor lifted the dead Kobold reverently and wrapped it in his jacket. It was a reminder, as if we needed one, of just what danger Saorise was in.

  “We will,” I said, fighting tears.

  And we would make sure to put these bastards out of business for good so they could never dump another creature in the dumpster like trash again.

  Chapter 9

  The decision was made that we would split into two groups, and I was pleased to note that they did not bother to check whether to include me.

  It was never in question; I was now part of the 'team'. Part of the family? Maybe not quite. Which perhaps was just as well, as it would raise some odd questions about my relations with one member of that family.

  "Why not split into four?" questioned Declan. "We'd cover more ground faster."

  "Safety," Connor replied, simply. "With two people, one can look out for the other. If the worst happens and one is taken, then the other can get in touch with the second pair."

  It was an intelligent tactic, but it was also a grim reminder that this was a necessary precaution. We were going into danger. Them more than me, of course - the Twisted Club would have no use for a human. Which actually meant, now I thought about it, that they would probably just kill me.

  That was a hell of a thing to realize.

  "Who goes with who?" I asked, glancing around as the three of them finished loading their new burner phones with each of our numbers.

  I wasn't sure how I felt when Connor wound up choosing to put me with Patch and paired himself with Declan. I liked Patch a lot, he was easy-going and friendly, and his jet-black hair and quick smile appealed to me, to the point of feeling a bit guilty that I was having fuzzy feelings about a second brother. But I could not help also feeling a little pang of sadness as I remembered the look on Connor's face when Patch had mentioned the name 'Eileen'. Clearly, there was a woman in his past to whom some sort of tragedy was attached; that might easily be holding him back. Or maybe his guilt about Saorise had driven a wedge between us.

 
In either case, there was no time to think on it long. Saorise was what mattered.

  We opted for train travel. While the travel times were longer, we could leave ASAP. It was obviously not the first time that the guys had travelled using public transport, but it was equally obvious that it wasn’t something they did often. They pored over ticket choices and frowned at timetables as if they were written in another language. I was relieved that I was able to step in and make the arrangements for both groups.

  "Saorise is better at this sort of thing," Declan commented.

  The brothers said their farewells in a pretty restrained fashion, but with emotions still obvious beneath the surface. They were clearly not used to being separated for long periods. In truth, I found myself oddly affected by the parting, as well. I barely knew these guys and yet, I felt strongly attached to them so I almost felt tears rising when I hugged Declan and Connor goodbye. It was hard to believe that I had only known these men for a couple of days.

  We got onto our respective trains.

  The locations that Stanley had given us were all in major cities, places in which people had the money to afford a Twisted Club - tickets were prohibitively expensive - and places that allowed such an attraction to hide in the bowels, hidden away. I was a city girl, born and bred, but even I was sometimes horrified by the sort of thing that went on in the place I had called home all my life.

  It wasn't very long into the journey before I became glad that I had been paired up with Patch. I wouldn't like to misjudge Connor, of whom I was very fond for all sorts of reasons, and yet my impression was that traveling with him would have been a silent experience. He was not chatty, and I felt that in the current situation, he was ashamed of being anything other than dour - he had no business enjoying life or even smiling as long as Saorise was missing. But different people dealt with loss in different ways, and Patch was a case in point.

  He was filling every silence with easy chatter. None of which meant that he suffered any less than his brother. Even as he talked about this and that, the smile never leaving his face, I would sometimes catch a look in his eye and see the pain that dwelt behind the smile. This was Patch's coping mechanism. I doubted that it worked any better than Connor's - there are some things that simply cannot be 'dealt with' - but it was fine by me.

  "Tell me about yourself." He had been talking about everything from books he had read to what he saw out of the window and I had been content to listen, now it was my turn, I suddenly felt inadequate to the task.

  "Not much to tell."

  "I seriously doubt that. Family?"

  "Parents. One brother. I've got an uncle and an aunt out west but I don't see them often."

  "You may get a chance."

  I shrugged. "We might be able to stay with them. That would save some money."

  I hadn't actually raised the question of money that much. They had paid for my tickets and accommodation - they had insisted - which had surprised me. Since they had not seemed to be staying at a hotel in New York, I had assumed that this expedition was being done on a shoestring, but now it seemed I was wrong.

  Where did Selkie get money from? Did they all have day jobs? It was a relatively easy commute from the sea to the town each morning but it seemed very unlikely to me.

  But it was none of my business.

  "And you're a vet?" Patch pressed on with his subject.

  "Veterinary nurse."

  "What's the difference?"

  "The pay scale. And I don't have to put people's beloved family members to sleep. So, pluses and minuses."

  "Must be rewarding."

  "On a good day. On a bad day, it's heartbreaking."

  As we talked, I realized that it had never really occurred to me that Benny and I didn't talk. We said things and I could not fault him as a good listener, but he seldom responded on the same subject. I assumed he was listening because he said nothing, but looked at me with an open face as if taking it all in. Thinking about it now, I doubted that he could have answered any questions about what I had said. And I was probably just as guilty. We didn't converse or share. We exchanged facts.

  With Patch, it was different. Perhaps, because we weren't dating, we felt no need to keep the other person interested, so we just talked, and in the process did keep each other very interested.

  "Can I - and it's okay for you to say no - can I ask something about Connor?"

  "Sure," said Patch, perhaps a little cagey. "But I reserve the right not to answer."

  "Fair enough. You mentioned someone called Eileen. I got the impression..."

  But Patch had already held up a hand. "I’m sorry. I can’t."

  "Fair enough."

  "It's not that it's a secret, and for all I know, he might be fine with it, but... it's not my story to tell."

  Hours later, we arrived in Boston. We disembarked and got a cab to the hotel, barely stopping in the room long enough to dump our stuff and breathe before we were out the door again. Both of us keen to get back on the trail.

  Was it too much to hope that Saorise might be in the first place we looked?

  It was too much to hope. The abandoned warehouse in the old industrial sector of the city was empty, and there was no sign anyone had been there for months.

  "Well, it was always optimistic to think they'd be at the first place we look," said Patch, forcing his bright smile, though I could see the pain behind his eyes. "We'll move on tomorrow. Baltimore was always a better bet, I reckon."

  "I'll book the tickets when we get in," I agreed, trying to match his smile, though I felt as disappointed as he was. "Patch?"

  "Yes, Sienna."

  "Do you worry that while we're going to look for them in one city, they could be heading for the one we just left?"

  We were searching the cities in order of proximity - which seemed the most logical way to do it. But the touring schedule of an illegal operation was not necessarily governed by logic.

  The smile on Patch's face did not move. "Well, I'm definitely going to worry about it now."

  We went back to the hotel, ordered room service, and watched TV. Patch found a quiz show, and we eagerly competed against each other, forgetting the disappointments of the day as we beat the onscreen contestants.

  "When this is over, we should apply to be on this show," said Patch, indicating the screen. "We're better than any of these guys."

  "My guess is they only let idiots on the show. So they don't have to pay out the big money prizes."

  "So, they won't let us on?" Patch shook his head.

  "We could pretend to be idiots in the auditions and then only reveal our brilliance in the actual recording."

  "That's genius. We're definitely doing this."

  Later in the evening, Patch retired to the bathroom, and minutes later I heard splashing. The door was ajar and I figured that if he had wanted total privacy, he would have locked it or at least closed it, so I sidled cautiously over and peeped in. In the bathtub was a large grey seal, its flanks dappled in white, its eyes a vivid green. It looked at me momentarily and then rolled over in the tub again, using its flippers to splash water across its velvety skin. Oddly, what struck me as most curious about what ought to have been a profoundly curious experience was that I found myself thinking how much the seal looked like Patch. I was confident that in a line-up of seals I could have picked Patch out sight unseen. In fact, I was confident that if presented with my four Selkie friends in seal form, I could have put the right names to them. Though he was a seal, Patch remained Patch - I was sure he was smiling at me.

  I went back to the TV, not wanting to intrude any further on what might be a private moment. A few minutes later, back in human form, Patch re-entered and packed the wet skin away in his backpack.

  "Didn't mean to pry," I said, which was not strictly true.

  Patch grinned. "That's fine. Ideally, I need to get the skin wet once a day. I prefer to do it as a seal. To be honest - whichever shape I'm in, I like to transform once a day. Spend
too long as a human and I can't swim so well. Spend too long as a seal and I forget how knees are supposed to work. You can always spot a Selkie who's been too long in the sea when they come out on land - legs all over the place."

  Initially, the guys had offered to book me a separate hotel room, but I had declined. We were all grown-ups and there really was no need. Partly, I had said that because of the whole confusing money thing and partly, because - though I would be a little ashamed to admit it - at the time we hadn't yet decided who was going with whom and I was hoping to share a room with Connor.

  I didn't mind sharing with Patch, or, at least, I didn't think I did. But on that first night of our journey together, after he had gallantly gone into the bathroom while I got undressed and got into bed, I found my eyes unwillingly drawn to him.

  Patch seemed entirely lacking in modesty. Perhaps that was because I had already seen him naked at Battery Park that first morning, but I thought also that Selkie did not concern themselves with such things.

  Why would they?

  Seals have no worries about nudity, they don't feel the need to drape seaweed around their naughty bits in case another seal catches sight of them. Only humans cared about such things and this was a stark reminder that I was not sharing the hotel room with a human. That said, he looked exceedingly human as he stripped off his shirt to reveal an impressively muscled body. I noticed a scar across one shoulder and would have asked about it, but that would have revealed that I was watching him.

  I tried to look away as he unfastened his pants. Well... not so much tried as told myself to look away and didn't. I watched wide-eyed as Patch slid his pants down his muscular legs. I didn't dwell long on his legs as my eyes were stuck on the tight ovals of his ass cheeks, encased in hugging underwear.

  Was there more to come?

  I bit my lip as he casually looped his thumbs into the waistband of his shorts and pulled them down, leaving me with an unrestricted view of the twins. I would have given anything at that moment to sink my teeth into his perfect backside. As he turned to get into bed, I caught a brief glimpse of something still more impressive, swinging healthily between his legs, but it was too swiftly hidden beneath the sheets for me to get a proper look.