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A sharp scream almost had him toppling off the beast. One of the creature's tentacles plucked a woman from the top of the lighthouse balcony. She was hanging by her ankles above the churning sea.
"Fuck," Mananan growled. That was just what he needed. He took a long knife from his leg sheath and cut off the next tentacle that went for him.
The creature was holding the woman out of reach as its entire attention was on Mananan. He pulled his harpoon free once more and summoned his strength. Magic burned through the weapon, making it glow with a pale blue light.
With a roar, he stabbed the harpoon into the soft place under the edge of the kraken’s shell as hard as he could. The weapon buried deep, and magic dragged it down into the creature’s brain. Its tentacles spasmed and shuddered as it curled in on itself. Its death cry was an enraged howl, and it shot backwards into the water. Mananan swore again as it dragged the screaming woman with it instead of releasing her.
Mananan dived off the back of the creature and into the dark waves. He scanned the water and heard the woman thrashing. He spotted a bright flash of silver hair, and he swam for it.
The woman was trying to claw at the tentacle around her leg, her movements sluggish as her air ran out. She flailed around wildly, but Mananan grabbed her face and breathed a mouthful of air into her lungs. She stopped fighting him and went for the tentacle again. He pushed her hands aside and cut the tentacle with his dagger. She kicked her leg free and tried to make for the surface. Mananan grabbed her around the waist and carried her the rest of the way.
They broke the surface, the woman inhaling and coughing so raggedly, Mananan could hear it over the storm. He held on to her and made for the shoreline.
The lighthouse was situated on a rocky point, but a small stretch of beach curved around it. The woman stopped struggling, her strength gone as the cold water chilled her. She was unconscious by the time Mananan got her to the sand.
"Woman! Wake up!" he said, giving her a shake. He could feel her lungs still breathing under his hands. She had come from the lighthouse, so that was where he would take her.
Mananan sheathed his dagger and hoisted the woman up into his arms. Playing rescuer hadn’t been on his list of things to do that night, but he had saved her, so he was responsible for her.
Mananan banged on the door of the house at the base of the lighthouse. When no one answered, he kicked the door in.
Inside was warm from a blazing fire. Mananan carried the woman over to a couch and laid her on it. She was a tiny thing, the dark blue wool sweater she was wearing swam on her, and she looked so damn pale. He took off the wet jumper so she would warm up faster in front of the fire.
He checked her breathing again, which was steady, and made sure no water was in her mouth. He couldn't feel any lumps on her head, so he pulled a blanket off an armchair and placed it over her.
"You'll be okay, little lighthouse keeper," he told her. He placed another log on the fire, and with one final check that her heart was still beating, he stepped back out into the storm.
2
Ella woke as the sun was coming through the kitchen windows. Her skin felt crusty all over, and her mouth tasted weirdly sweet.
"What in the…" She sat upright, and her head pounded so hard, she thought she was going to vomit. As much as her head hurt, her leg was worse. She stumbled to the sink and drank shaky handfuls of water.
What had happened last night? She got flashes of the storm, blinding fear… She leaned over and vomited in the sink. The lighthouse had been attacked, and she had been pulled straight out of the top of it.
Ella stumbled into her bathroom and stripped off her still damp jeans. Her gut lurched at the sight of her legs. They were streaked with bruises from the tentacles that had held her and had a nasty gash on her left calf that probably needed stitches. She hadn't even noticed the blood on her black jeans.
"Okay, just breathe and get yourself clean. You have sticky stitches and everything you need. It's not life threatening," she told herself.
Ever since her grandmother had died a year ago, Ella had developed the habit of talking out loud to herself and to the ghosts. She needed a pet to not make it so weird.
In the hot steam, Ella checked herself over for any more cuts or bruises. Her headache was most likely dehydration because there was no blood in her silver hair from a head wound. She sat on the tiled floor and took some calming breaths. Her ribs hurt, but there was no sign of bruising.
Flashes of memory hit her at once. Blackness after hitting the freezing water. Knowing she was going to die if she didn't get free.
Ella touched her lips. Air had been pushed into her screaming lungs. She remembered a man's deep voice but not what he had said. She had been saved from the creature—of that she was certain. But who washe?
It had been no damn pretty merman, though after seeing the kraken last night, nothing would surprise her.
It had been a man. Or man shaped with strangely bright eyes. Brutal strength had pulled her from the water, not a mythical creature.
Maybe it was the god of the sea, her grandmother's voice whispered to her.
Deidra Scarth had been the closest thing to a witch Ella had ever known, and she had taken stories and superstitions to a whole new level. If it lived in or was about the sea, Deidra had believed it. Ella, who had been raised by Deidra for most of her life, knew all the stories but didn't have quite so much belief as her grandmother. It was her grandmother who had named her Marella, the star of the sea.
Deidra would have been thrilled about the idea of a wild Celtic merman saving her. Ella laughed softly and missed her even more.
And he hadn't been a merman because he had legs that had carried her back to the lighthouse.
