Page 1 of Kiss for My Kraken (Fairhaven Falls #8)

N ina’s hands tightened on the steering wheel as the car crept slowly down the rutted dirt road, praying she hadn’t made a mistake.

The sign, half-hidden in the bushes at the top of the road, had read “Fleet Landing.” A landing implied a place where fishermen could put their boats in the river with a small parking area.

With any luck, the night was too cool to encourage anyone to go night fishing, and the area would be deserted—a perfect place for her to spend the night in the car.

Sleeping in the car wasn’t an ideal solution, but it didn’t cost anything, and she was too tired to go any further.

But that assumed there actually was some place to park at the bottom of the road.

Bushes scraped against the doors on both sides, and she was uneasily aware that there was no way for her to turn around unless she reached a wider area.

Her broken right headlight flickered and went out for a few seconds before returning to its previous, barely visible light. In the uncertain light, the branches overhanging the road looked like hands reaching down to grasp her ancient car.

“Stop that,” she muttered to herself, and Ozzie lifted his head. He’d been sleeping peacefully in the bed she’d made out of an old milk crate padded with towels, fastened in place by the worn seatbelt, but he’d awakened at the sound of her voice. “Sorry, sweetheart. You can go back to sleep.”

But instead of settling back down, he sat up and looked around, his head tilted inquisitively and both ears perked.

“What do you think?” she asked him. “Is this going to be a dead end?”

He looked over at her with what looked like a doubtful expression, and a rueful smile twisted her lips. “I’ve come this far. I might as well keep going. The road’s got to end somewhere—hopefully somewhere wide enough to either turn around or park the car.”

The road continued to narrow, and she winced as she heard a loud scrape against the passenger door.

Not that a scratch was likely to be visible given the rusting paint job, but she hated the idea that she was doing more damage.

She was just about to give up and start backing up the track when she caught sight of a silvery gleam ahead: the river.

She must be almost at the end of the road.

“Keep your paws crossed,” she muttered to Ozzie as she eased the car slowly down the steepest section of the track.

The road ended in a small clearing, and she breathed a sigh of relief as the moon emerged from behind the scudding clouds to reveal a small parking area just large enough for two cars.

The road itself continued down to a cracked concrete landing that looked as if it hadn’t been used in years.

Even better—that made it even less likely that anyone would bother her tonight.

She pulled into the parking area. The car gave a liquid growl as she turned it off, and she sighed. So far, the car, ancient as it was, had continued to run and hadn’t given her any problems. If it needed repair work, she’d be well and truly screwed.

“Don’t borrow trouble,” she told herself firmly. The car was still running, and for now, that’s all that really mattered.

She yawned and stretched, reaching into the backseat for the old hoodie she’d picked up at the thrift store two towns ago, and pulled it over her flannel shirt before opening the door. A cool breeze swept over her, redolent with the scent of pine and dry leaves and the distant tang of wood smoke.

A fire would be nice , she thought wistfully. But she didn’t fancy the idea of searching through the surrounding woods for fuel. If she stayed, perhaps she could have one tomorrow night.

She climbed wearily out of the car, and Ozzie followed, his small white body quivering eagerly. She laughed. “Go ahead and explore. But don’t go too far.”

He immediately started investigating a mound of fallen leaves tangled beneath one of the overgrown bushes on the river bank.

It’s so peaceful , she thought as she wandered over to the water’s edge.

Nothing broke the silence other than Ozzie rustling through the leaves and the occasional insect chirp.

The wide river drifted by, tranquil in the moonlight, parting to swirl around an island in the middle of the water.

There was something almost magical about the island, a thicket of trees and bushes with branches trailing gracefully down to the water.

She thought she caught a glimpse of a small dock in the shadow of the trees, but it was hard to be sure.

An island would be nice. Peaceful and protected from the outside world. But at least for tonight, this little clearing appeared just as safe.

Ozzie returned from his explorations, giving her a hopeful look, and she laughed. “I suppose you think it’s suppertime? Long past it, actually.”

The journey from the last town where she’d stopped to look for a job had taken longer than she expected, and dusk came early at this time of year.

She put down Ozzie’s water bowl, then filled his bowl with dry dog food. If he’d been human, he would have sighed. Instead, his tail drooped as he obediently but unenthusiastically started eating. He’d been half-starved when she found him, and he knew better than to pass up food.

“I know, it’s not very exciting,” she said, spreading peanut butter between the last two slices on the loaf of bread she’d bought.

She then scraped a thin layer on the heel of the loaf and tore it into little pieces for Ozzie, who attacked it eagerly.

“If I can find a job tomorrow, I’ll get you a bone,” she promised. “If” being the operative word.

The tourist season in the mountains was almost over, and many of the places that were most likely to hire her had already shut down for the season. With a spotty employment history, no high school diploma, and limited skills, there weren’t a lot of options.

“What do you think Fairhaven Falls is like?” she asked Ozzie as he finished off the last of his dinner and came to curl up at her side.

She’d caught a brief glimpse of the town sign not long before she’d seen the landing sign.

The waterfall on the sign looked nice enough, but the clasped green hands with claws below it gave her pause.

She’d overheard someone mention the town while she was waiting for the owner of the last place she’d stopped to take a look at her application.

A trucker had been making a joke about delivering beer to werewolves.

She’d heard enough to know that Fairhaven Falls was a town friendly towards the Others—the creatures of myth and legend who shared the world with humans.

Others had never been welcome in Haven’s Grace, the small community where she’d grown up.

Not welcome was an understatement. Elder Matthias, the leader of The Chosen, had often preached that they were children of the devil, and it wasn’t until after she’d escaped that she’d seen her first one—a huge orc who stopped when he saw her car on the side of the road.

Even though she’d long since realized that Elder Matthias was wrong about a number of things, she’d been too terrified to speak when he peered at her through the window, his tusks gleaming.

“Something wrong, miss?” He had a low, deep voice that was oddly calming.

“Gas,” she managed to gasp.

He’d simply nodded and gone back to the huge truck he was driving, returning a few minutes later with a gas can and pouring the contents into her tank. She tried to pay him, but he’d just waved it off.

“No problem.” His smile was unexpectedly charming despite the tusks and the sharp, intimidating array of teeth, and she managed to return it before he nodded and went on his way.

That encounter had turned out to be quite typical.

She still hadn’t encountered many Others, but on the whole, the ones she met had been polite and friendly.

Maybe the fact that Fairhaven Falls welcomed them was a good sign.

She also had the impression that it was becoming an attractive tourist destination, so perhaps they weren’t already closing down for the season.

“Maybe this will work out, Ozzie.” She scratched behind the ear that always flopped over as he nuzzled her hand. “Maybe we could settle down here.”

It was probably a foolish dream. In the two years since she’d escaped the stifling embrace of Haven’s Grace, she hadn’t spent longer than six months in any one place. “I suppose if it doesn’t work out, we’ll just have to head south.”

So far, she had always stayed either in the mountains or close to them; they were one of the few things she remembered positively from her childhood. But if she couldn’t find work, she’d have to keep moving. Tourists went south for the winter; maybe she should as well.

She sighed and went back to the car, unrolling her sleeping bag on the wide backseat.

The size of the backseat was one of the few advantages of the ancient car.

But despite the long day’s drive, she wasn’t quite ready to turn in.

She wandered back down to the water’s edge, looking across at the island.

A faint mist had risen over the surface of the water, and it made the island look even more mystical, like Brigadoon emerging from the mist.

The river curved away to the right, but she thought she could see lights reflecting on the water.

If the town were that close, maybe she could walk into it and save some of her precious gas.

She made her way over to the edge of the clearing and found what looked like a trail along the edge of the water.

It might simply be an animal trail, but it was headed in the direction she wanted to go.

The distant sound of music—the opening chords of a classic rock song—suddenly drifted down the river, then abruptly ended, as if someone had opened and closed a door.

Curious, she leaned a little further over the riverbank, trying to see if she could spot the source of the music.

Just as she was straightening back up, what felt like a small hand pushed between her shoulder blades, and she was falling.

Her arms pinwheeled, trying to find something to grab onto, but it was too late, and she hit the water with a loud splash, the icy waters closing over her head.