Forgotten Sea

Moon’s blue eyes clouded. “And if he is?”

“It makes no difference. Unless he kil s the girl. In which case, I wil avenge her murder, and Simon can thank me for that.”

Moon sniffed. “Sometimes I real y don’t like you very much.”

“So you’ve said.”

Their eyes met, dark with memories and—at least on his part—regret.

A faint flush rose in her cheeks. “You replaced me quickly enough.”

“A lesson I learned from Simon.”

She shot him a questioning look.

“Keep your friends close,” Jude explained. “And your enemies closer.”

“And you, of course, see enemies everywhere,” Moon said again dryly.

He did not smile. “I don’t fuck al of them.”

“Such self-restraint.”

He did not defend himself. In truth, he used sex the same way he used everything else.

The nephilim did have enemies. Everywhere. He did what he must to ensure their survival. He played a long game with high stakes against incredible odds. Lara Rho was just another card to turn to his advantage.

Assuming he could find her.

“I’m going to Maine,” he said.

*

*

*

Iestyn had never sailed into Port Clyde before, but he recognized the sights and smel s of a working harbor. Beyond the kayaks, tourist cars, and ice cream shops, the waterfront moved with the rhythm of the seasons and the tides.

F o r g o t t e n s e a 215

By three o’clock, sturdy fishing boats ruffled the blue water, chugging in to offload their catch behind the general store.

The air was rich with salt and fish, sharp with diesel oil.

He joined Lara, waiting in line to board the ferry between a couple of hikers and a little girl with a pink backpack.

Something about Lara—the way she looked or the way she stood, the turn of her head or the pucker of her brows as she squinted into the sun behind him—lodged like a fishbone in his throat. His chest swel ed. He couldn’t speak.

He could barely breathe.

“We’re here now,” she’d told him. “Together. For the first time in my life, maybe that’s enough.”

But what if it wasn’t enough? he wondered with a sliver of panic. For her. For him.

She smiled at him, relaxed, expectant. “Did you find parking?”

He cleared his throat, rubbed at the burn itching beneath his col arbone. “A couple blocks over.”

He’d left the Jeep behind a hardware store with the key in the ignition. In Newark, in Norfolk, in Montevideo, the vehicle would vanish within the hour. Even in Maine, he figured it would disappear eventual y.

She raised her brows. “You know the ferry lot only charges five dol ars a day.”

“We don’t know when we’l be back.” If I’ll come back.

He pushed the thought away. Concentrate on the moment.

Live in the moment. They crossed the metal ramp behind a woman dragging a shopping cart. “We can’t leave the Jeep in the parking lot, pointing at the ferry like a bloody arrow,”

he said.

She nodded in comprehension. “Because of the crows.”

“The crows and the cops.” He lowered his voice.

“They’l run the plates on an abandoned vehicle.”

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V i r g i n i a K a n t r a

Lara’s eyes widened. “I didn’t think of that.”

Of course not. His conscience winced. She was a rule fol ower, not a law breaker.

“I hope you got rid of the license plates,” she said.

He grinned, his conscience relieved. What a miracle she was. “Tossed them in a Dumpster.”

“Good.” The approval in her tone, the trust in her eyes, caused that funny swel ing in his chest again.