“Aye,” Lachlan said. “Was hoping you could help us hire a boat to Wyre.”

The man stepped closer, his eyebrows raised. “Wyre, you say?”

The interest in his eyes was too avid, and now that he stood closer, I was able to get a hint of his magic: seaweed, salt air, and something unfamiliar. He was the only supernatural in the place, but I couldn’t pin down what type he was. That in itself wasn’t unusual—some species played it close to the vest—but I knew without a doubt that I’d never met something like him before.

“You know what you’re getting into if you head over there?” he asked.

“A bit,” I said. “Anything we should be aware of in particular?”

He looked us up and down, and I could feel him trying to get a hint of my magic. “You seem like you can handle yourselves.”

“I like to think so,” Lachlan said. “Is there anything you can tell us about Wyre?”

He shrugged. “More Vikings than Scots over there. But we’re not far off, either.”

Of course. I’d forgot the history of the northern isles. They’d been settled by Vikings nearly a thousand years ago, and the people here had as much—if not more—Norwegian ancestry than Scottish.

I leaned closer to him, desperate to get an idea of what he was. Some kind of Nordic supernatural I’d never heard of, perhaps?

He raised a curious brow at me, and I found myself unable to stop from asking. “What are you?”

The friendly twinkle in his eyes disappeared. “I could ask you the same.”

“You’re right. Neither of us is normal,” I said. Lachlan was an Alpha, to start—unusually powerful. And I was a…whatever the hell I was.

At that moment, the door creaked open behind us, and the bartender’s gaze moved toward it. His eyes brightened again. “That’ll be Colm. He’ll take you in his boat if you pay him.”

“Thank you.” Lachlan pressed a twenty-pound note to the bar and stood.

I followed, giving the bartender one last look as I left, wishing I could figure out what the hell he was.

When I approached Lachlan and Colm, I spotted the older man’s mouth turning down in a frown. He wore a bulky knit jumper with a waterproof jacket over top.

“Dangerous to go there,” he grumbled.

“You won’t even have to land,” Lachlan said. “Just pull alongside the shore and let us out, then head off.”

“Can’t use a transport charm to get off,” he said. “Anyway, it’s not just the island that’s dangerous.”

“We’ll make it worth your while.”

His eyes narrowed. “How worth it?”

“Name your price.”

The man’s wrinkled face creased even more deeply as he thought. “You’re either stupid or desperate. My money is on a bit of both.”

Lachlan just smiled at the insult, unbothered by the crotchety old boatman. “What’ll it be?”

“Five thousand across, then five thousand back. Can’t in good conscience leave you there.”

But he’d charge us for the privilege of the return.

“Can we call you when we need to leave?” Lachlan asked.

Colm shook his head. “No signal. But a flare gun will do you. I’ll give you one.”

“Thank you. Can we go now?”

Colm shot a longing glance at the bar behind us, no doubt wanting his lunch and a pint. Then he nodded. “Your sort is always in a rush.”

“True enough,” Lachlan said.

Together, we left the bar and headed down to the small wharf. It was little more than a concrete pier reaching out into the gray sea with small boats tied up alongside. In the distance, I could see the larger fishing vessels bobbing on the water beneath the swooping gulls.

“That’ll be me.” Colm pointed to the small fishing boat tied to the end of the dock. It was probably twenty feet long, with a closed-off pilot house and bright red paint on the hull. Colm saw me eying the garish color and said, “Don’t want Poseidon mistaking me for his own and dragging me under.”

I nodded. “The Greek gods get a lot of consideration out here?”

“Not much, no.” He stopped next to the boat and began to untie the lines.

I climbed onto the deck, followed by Lachlan. Colm jumped on after us, then held out his palm to Lachlan. “Payment first.”

Lachlan nodded and pulled a thick wad of notes out of his pocket. He’d clearly come prepared to buy our way onto Wyre, and I was grateful.

Colm took the cash and handed Lachlan a short, blunt flare gun. “You’ve got one shot.”

“Thank you.” Lachlan pocketed the gun.

With the practicalities finished, the boatman fired up the engine and cast off the final line. Within seconds, we were puttering away from the dock and headed out to sea.

I stepped up to the bow of the boat to get a better view and could see a low-lying island in the distance. Lachlan joined me and murmured, “It’s Wyre.”

Halfway across the water, a ferocious current began to pull at the boat. It moved so swiftly that I could see it rippling the water.

From behind me, Colm cursed. “Blasted currents.”

The boat’s engine roared as he tried to push through the water. I gripped the railing tightly, hoping that the little boat could keep up. Through the waves, I spotted something bobbing in the distance. When the water dropped low enough to give a good view, I gasped and pointed. “It’s a person!”

This was way too far from land for a person to be safely swimming.

“Nah,” Colm barked. “No such thing.”

“It is.” I leaned over the bow and squinted, trying to get a better view. When the waves dropped a second time, I spotted a seal. Its gray head bobbed above the waves, and its black eyes stared hard at me.

I rubbed my eyes. “I’d swear I saw a person.”

“Trick of the light,” Lachlan said.

I looked up at him. “It’s not. There’s something funny going on here. I sensed it with the bartender, too.”

He gave me a long look, then nodded. “All right. I’ll stay alert.”

“Good.” I turned back to the waves, searching again for the person.

I never saw them, and a half hour later, Colm’s boat was close enough to shore that I could see dozens of seals on the rocky beach. Damned place was littered with them.

Maybe I had imagined things.

Then I felt the magic that vibrated from the island. A protective charm, for sure. But something else, too. Something familiar and strange.

What the hell was up with this place?

I rubbed my arms. This was all very weird.

“I’ll pull alongside those flat rocks,” Colm shouted from behind. “You jump off.”

I spotted the rocks he was talking about and moved to the midsection of the boat where the railing opened to provide an exit. Lachlan followed.

“When you get on land, go to St. Mary’s church. Old thing, you can’t miss it.”

“Do people live there?” I asked.

“No. But if you go there, it will announce your presence. Best way to avoid trouble.”

“Thank you.”

The boat slowed as it puttered near, waves knocking against the hull.