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“Ah—you are awake.” His voice is deep, authoritative.

The man lumbers toward us, meeting me in a single shaft of moonlight. A beast steps from the shadows beside him; a giant black dog with pointed ears and a missing eye. Its fur glints like obsidian, tongue lolling happily. Warmth blooms in my chest. The dog’s tail wags with fervor, its legs jogging in place. If I were guessing, this scary animal would slobber me with affection if it weren’t for the man’s raised hand.

I smile, reaching for the dog, a wave of familiarity washing over me.

“Hi,” my voice is barely a whisper.

“Arik”—he extends a hand as my hand hovers right above the dog’s head—“and this is Misty.”

Slipping my hand into his, I find that it’s cool to touch. Arik is tall and carries a refined air about him. If I had to guess, late thirties, early forties maybe. Though age feels irrelevant here.

“Kieran has been at the shore all night. He will be relieved to know that you are awake. It has been an interesting few days at the estate.” Arik smiles as he gestures to a path leading outside.

“I’m eager to meet the man who saved me,” I reply, returning a smile.

“I’m not so sure he saved you…but he is eager to meet the guest that arrived on his shores,” Arik murmurs.

Daisy tugs at my hand, urging me toward the patio doors.

“Go on. Misty and I will come find you another time,” Arik says, disappearing into the shadows.

I watch as they leave, and it stirs a helpless, bittersweet feeling within me.

“Dr. Lazarus has always reminded me of a vampire. You’ll see why.” Daisy giggles, pulling me toward the outer doors. “Come. This is not even the best part of the view.”

We step through another set of glass doors and onto a wide patio carved into the cliffside. Craggy bushes and a jagged limestone staircase with crumbling banisters lead down toward the beach far below. Soft flurries hurry across the vista.

I freeze at the edge, breath catching as vertigo sweeps over me. One careless step would send me tumbling to my death.

“It’s perfectly safe,” Daisy calls. Just for a moment, her shape flickers beneath the moonlight. A trick of the night, perhaps.

I rest a hand on the cold marble banister.

Inhale.

Below, torches burn along the shoreline. A lone figure sits atop a boulder, watching the waves. The water roars hypnotically, but memory coils inside me like a serpent. Those same waves nearly claimed me.

Exhale.

I take the plunge down the stairs. The descent is easy, and what awaits at the bottom steals the air from my lungs.

The man’s cerulean eyes lock onto mine the moment my feet touch the sand. His body pivots in a way that feels unnatural and elegant all at once, gliding from the boulder toward us, a sweep of strength and intent. He reaches me in seconds. A strange feeling sparks beneath my skin and dances along the length of my spine. “Do we know each other?” My voice trembles with curiosity rather than fear.

I am struck by his unwavering gaze and chiseled stillness. Everything about him feels familiar, yet otherworldly. A pulse of emotion explodes low in my stomach—confusion and anger. The anger surprises me most, sharp and inexplicable. He falters for a fraction of a second, clears his throat, and glances toward the sea. He says nothing, but the silence between us crackles.

Speak.

Please speak.

He inhales slowly, turns toward me again. And whatever lives behind his eyes meets whatever stirs beneath my skin, and the collision feels inevitable.

FOUR

“Nothing living washes ashore in Devil’s Bay without owing something to the tide.”

— ARCHIVIST, DEVIL’S BAY

“Do you remember anything?” he finally asks. His voice is deep, with an anachronistic cadence, almost forced.