“What about Nate?” I asked.
“Unscathed, but wary.”
“And you? You look right as rain.”
Thorin ducked his head but held his palms out to me as if offering surrender. I didn’t understand at first, but then I spied angry red welts on his palms and fingertips. “That was an amazing display,” he said. “You still want to say you don’t know how it happens?”
“I think I’m starting to get an idea. But I still have no control over it. I’m still not sure I want it. It doesn’t feel like me. It feels like it’s all happening to someone else and I’m watching it all from the outside.”
“You won’t feel that way when you learn how to manage it.”
“A couple weeks ago I was a baker in my family’s business. That’s all I ever was, and I was pretty convinced it was all I would ever be. Now I discover I’m the reincarnation of an ancient goddess. How do I wrap my mind around that?”
“The same way you deal with any traumatic event.”
“Denial?”
Thorin chuckled. “I meant time. It’s the only thing that really works. Your grief for Mani is not as sharp as it was the first day, is it?”
My shoulders slumped. “I guess not.”
“The same applies to this situation. Eventually this new aspect of your life will become second nature.”
“I guess you speak from experience, don’t you?”
Thorin merely arched an eyebrow and ignored my question as he reached for the collar of my borrowed T-shirt, one belonging to him, judging by its size. I assumed my dress had not survived the fire. My cheeks reddened as I mourned the loss of my modesty. I hoped Thorin had possessed the decency to throw a blanket over my bare behind before carrying me to his boat.
“There’s one more thing you might want to know.” Thorin tugged the shirt collar down, reminding me of how he’d manhandled me in front of an audience the night before.
I slapped at his hands. “Stop doing that.”
“Look at yourself,” he said. “Your wounds are healed.”
“What?” I yanked up my shirt and examined my ribs. Thorin was right. The bandages were gone, and the skin was smooth and white, as pure as if my flesh had never been rent by fangs and claws. “Ohh,” I moaned, clutching my stomach.
Thorin put his hand on my shoulder. “What is it?”
“I’m gonna be sick again.”
I sat in the fresh air on the deck of the Mjölnir as Thorin steered us into Resurrection Bay. It was early evening, but the sun was still high in the sky. I wondered if the long summer days were something people who weren’t born in Alaska adjusted to eventually. Or did they always long for more balance between darkness and light?
As Thorin reversed his yacht into its slip, Skyla and Val dashed onto the dock to meet us. Val jumped onto the dive platform and rushed up the steps into the interior of the boat before Thorin shut off the engine. I held my breath, waiting to see what Val would do. He shot a dirty look at Thorin and rushed to gather me into a hug. He wasn’t yelling yet, so I returned his embrace. Skyla ignored us and tied the mooring lines in place.
“Val, let up,” I said. “You’re squeezing the breath out of me.”
“It’s either hug you or shake you ’til your teeth clack.”
“I’m not your wayward child. You have no right to be upset with me.”
Val took me by my arms and held me so he could peer into my face. “I was scared for you. I care about you, and that gives me every right.”
“Not to threaten me, it doesn’t. At this point you’re either with me or against me. Please, Val, if you know something that can help us, tell me what it is.”
Val released me and scrubbed a hand over his face. “I imagine you know more than me. These things that have happened are familiar, but there’s no foretelling about this. None of it makes sense.”
“What did you find out from Helen Locke?” Skyla asked.
“Not bloody much,” Thorin said, joining the party after finishing his docking duties. “Our little ball of sunshine set the hotel room on fire before we could get any answers.”
Everyone spoke at once.
“On fire?” Val said.
“You did it again?” Skyla asked.
“She wasn’t going to tell us anything anyway,” I said.
Thorin waved his hand, signaling for quiet. “They know who she is and, more importantly, what she is. If whoever was trying to kill her only suspected her identity before, then now they have confirmation.”
“But you’re not sure it was Helen?” Val asked.
“You know her, too?” I asked.
Both men shot me petulant looks. I pursed my lips and returned their glare.
“I’m sure that if it wasn’t Helen, then she knows who it was,” Thorin said.
