Read Online Submerging (Swans Landing) by Shana Norris - Free Book Online
Authors: Shana Norris
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other, but I knew it was the only logical conclusion to this messed up tangle of hormones. Dylan didn’t want me. He had never, despite the fact that we’d been friends our entire lives, looked at me the way he’d looked at Mara as soon as she stepped foot on the island.
If Josh thought Dylan wouldn’t take advantage of his not being around right now, he was stupid and naive. The island had a way of making people lonely, lonelier than they’d ever felt before. And the longer Josh was gone, the closer Mara would move to Dylan in search of company.
Josh’s nostrils flared as he stared back at me. “Don’t talk to me about Dylan Waverly,” he growled.
I shrugged. “I’m only trying to make you see reality. She’s been in his bed once. How long do you think it will be before she’s there again?”
Before I had time to react, Josh leaped from the bed and across the room, suddenly hovering over me. His face was red, his eyes dark and narrowed. I’d made him angry before, even irritated him as much as possible for the fun of it, but I’d never seen him look at me the way he did now.
“If you know what’s good for you, Sailor Mooring, you’ll shut your mouth about things you have no business being involved in,” he said in a low, raspy voice.
I’d read things on finfolk before, looking up myths and beliefs humans had about them and laughing at how inaccurate some of them were. But as I looked up at Josh’s stony face, something from one of those books flashed across my mind: Finfolk are extremely territorial.
Right at that moment, Josh was more finfolk than he realized.
I held up my hands. “No need to go all psycho on me.”
Josh stepped back, the fury fading from his face, though his forehead was still crinkled into a scowl. “Don’t mention anything else about Dylan in front of me,” he growled.
Who would have known Josh would be the jealous type? I filed this information away for future use should the need arise.
“Whatever.” I stood and headed for the door.
“Where are you going?” he asked.
“Out,” I said.
I was thankful Fiona was no longer in the front lobby as I made my way out of the hostel. I wasn’t in the mood to talk to anyone, and she looked like someone who enjoyed talking. I sidestepped an elderly couple walking arm-in-arm down the street, then took a look around, trying to decide where to go.
Something called me toward the lighthouse, but I didn’t want to risk Callum Murchadh seeing me pass. I was not in the mood for dealing with him again so soon. So instead, I turned the other way and found myself facing the sign for the Pierowall Heritage Museum.
The building was small and quiet. Soft music played over the sound system and the only other people perusing the displays were a family with two young kids who looked bored and ready to go, tugging at their parents’ hands. The parents remained bent over one display, reading the information card attached to it.
“Mum, let’s go,” the little girl said, tugging at her mother’s arm.
“All right, love,” her mom said, finally stepping away from the display. “We’re going.”
I turned my back to the mother-daughter pairing and started at the opposite end of the room. The displays were all about the history of Westray and Pierowall, from the ancient people who first lived there to the modern day. I studied the artifacts and other pieces that made up the heritage of the island, moving through the displays as my eyes quickly scanned over the words on the cards.
When I reached the end—the family had finally left—I stopped and looked back across the room. That was it? There were several pieces in the collection, but no mention of finfolk anywhere.
A middle aged man approached me, smiling wide. “I trust you’ve enjoyed your visit to our heritage museum,” he said. “I would be happy to help with any questions you may have, or fill in additional information on the pieces.”
He was short, a couple inches
If Josh thought Dylan wouldn’t take advantage of his not being around right now, he was stupid and naive. The island had a way of making people lonely, lonelier than they’d ever felt before. And the longer Josh was gone, the closer Mara would move to Dylan in search of company.
Josh’s nostrils flared as he stared back at me. “Don’t talk to me about Dylan Waverly,” he growled.
I shrugged. “I’m only trying to make you see reality. She’s been in his bed once. How long do you think it will be before she’s there again?”
Before I had time to react, Josh leaped from the bed and across the room, suddenly hovering over me. His face was red, his eyes dark and narrowed. I’d made him angry before, even irritated him as much as possible for the fun of it, but I’d never seen him look at me the way he did now.
“If you know what’s good for you, Sailor Mooring, you’ll shut your mouth about things you have no business being involved in,” he said in a low, raspy voice.
I’d read things on finfolk before, looking up myths and beliefs humans had about them and laughing at how inaccurate some of them were. But as I looked up at Josh’s stony face, something from one of those books flashed across my mind: Finfolk are extremely territorial.
Right at that moment, Josh was more finfolk than he realized.
I held up my hands. “No need to go all psycho on me.”
Josh stepped back, the fury fading from his face, though his forehead was still crinkled into a scowl. “Don’t mention anything else about Dylan in front of me,” he growled.
Who would have known Josh would be the jealous type? I filed this information away for future use should the need arise.
“Whatever.” I stood and headed for the door.
“Where are you going?” he asked.
“Out,” I said.
I was thankful Fiona was no longer in the front lobby as I made my way out of the hostel. I wasn’t in the mood to talk to anyone, and she looked like someone who enjoyed talking. I sidestepped an elderly couple walking arm-in-arm down the street, then took a look around, trying to decide where to go.
Something called me toward the lighthouse, but I didn’t want to risk Callum Murchadh seeing me pass. I was not in the mood for dealing with him again so soon. So instead, I turned the other way and found myself facing the sign for the Pierowall Heritage Museum.
The building was small and quiet. Soft music played over the sound system and the only other people perusing the displays were a family with two young kids who looked bored and ready to go, tugging at their parents’ hands. The parents remained bent over one display, reading the information card attached to it.
“Mum, let’s go,” the little girl said, tugging at her mother’s arm.
“All right, love,” her mom said, finally stepping away from the display. “We’re going.”
I turned my back to the mother-daughter pairing and started at the opposite end of the room. The displays were all about the history of Westray and Pierowall, from the ancient people who first lived there to the modern day. I studied the artifacts and other pieces that made up the heritage of the island, moving through the displays as my eyes quickly scanned over the words on the cards.
When I reached the end—the family had finally left—I stopped and looked back across the room. That was it? There were several pieces in the collection, but no mention of finfolk anywhere.
A middle aged man approached me, smiling wide. “I trust you’ve enjoyed your visit to our heritage museum,” he said. “I would be happy to help with any questions you may have, or fill in additional information on the pieces.”
He was short, a couple inches
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