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"Because water is calming and reflective," he says, nodding thoughtfully.
"What have you come here to reflect on?" I ask, genuinely curious now. I know what drew me to the water, but I wonder what has brought him over.
"All of this, really. I had received invitations to these events for years, but I never found myself wanting to attend them. That is, until Diarmuid O’Sullivan appeared at my church." He pauses, his gaze steady on mine. "I know the secret, Niamh."
My heart skips a beat. "I don’t know what you mean," I say, trying to keep my voice steady, but my mind races. There are so many secrets, and I’m not even sure which one he refers to.
He leans in slightly, his voice lowering, he glances left to right before he speaks. "I know what all of this is. Diarmuid. The order. Victor."
I glance back into the water. My mind goes to Rian. He had found out all their secrets, too, and he’s six feet under. I owe nothing to the priest, but a sense of decency has me turning to him.
"For your own sake, I would be satisfied with the knowledge you have," I say, my voice low and urgent. "Horrible things happen to people who pry."
Father Isaac looks at me, his expression calm but serious. "I know this, which is why I want you to know that if anything happens to you, you have a place to go. For safety."
I furrow my brow, confusion and suspicion mingling in my mind. "Why are you offering me this?"
He smiles faintly, a touch of sadness in his eyes. "You don’t belong in this world, miss."
“I think that’s how everyone may start out. But, in time, it pulls us all in, just like the water.”
The sadness doesn’t leave his gaze. “My church can be a safe haven if you ever find yourself in need.” With a nod toward me, he turns and walks inside, using a door not far from where we stood.
It’s funny as I ponder his words. I have nowhere to turn to if I needed help. I hope I never have to go to him, but maybe one day, having him as a contact will be useful.
My heart lurches as a loud bang seems to silence the night before the world before me explodes into madness. People rush past; a woman bounces off me, and I grip the railing to stop myself from sailing over the edge.
My heart leaps into my throat as another loud bang fills the air. My brain catches up with the noise I just heard. It was a second gunshot.
Diarmuid had told me to go inside if anything was to happen. He had warned Selene and me to get to safety before we arrived at the event. At the time I had thought about what could happen on a yacht full of people.
I race with the crowd but glance over my shoulder. Through gaps in the masses of people, I see Diarmuid and Wolf fighting violently. I pause and nearly get trampled again. A man slams into me, and I fall along the deck, gripping the rail. Another man stops and helps me to my feet.
“You need to run.” His face is close to mine, and then he’s gone. I spin, losing any sense of what’s happening. I can’t see Selene. I scream her name over the panicked people, hunting for her large blue gown. She should be easy to spot, but I don’t see her. She must have gotten to safety already. I start moving with the dwindling crowd. The door is closed, but a man races through and slams it behind him.
“Wait!” I scream and yank the handle, but it’s locked from the inside. The man’s face appears through a small oval window. “Open the door!” I beg.
He disappears and I spin, plastering my back to the door.
I race to the nearest door, only to find it locked, too. Panic rises in my chest. The next deck is too high to climb. I am trapped.
Suddenly, Wolf and Diarmuid come into view, grappling with each other, their movements a blur of violence. I try to stay out of the way, but my feet betray me. I trip on someone’s bag that must have fallen through their panic to get away. The strap trips me, and Ifall against the railing, looking down at the raging sea once again. I quickly right myself.
Wolf is between Diarmuid and me, his face a mask of rage and determination as he sees me. I’m frozen, my limbs useless. And then, the unthinkable happens.
He grabs me and, in a terrifyingly swift motion, hurls us both over the railing into the churning waters below.
At first, I feel nothing. The water breaks around us, and for a moment, I am suspended above the darkness of the deeper river. I am nothing. I am everything. Time itself halts.
Then, it all hits at once.
Pain beyond anything I have ever experienced seizes me. My skin tightens all over my body so intensely that the water burns like fire. It is inescapable. It is everywhere. The cold is so intense it feels like my blood freezes solid. I try to scream, but the icy water fills my mouth and my lungs. Panic and agony intertwine, blurring the edges of my consciousness.
I struggle, my limbs flailing, but the current pulls me down, deeper into the dark abyss. My thoughts scatter, memories of Ella—smiling at me, teasing me, watching her sleep—assault my mind. Then Diarmuid’s face appears, the first time I met him, and the images mesh together. Everything I’m fighting for flickers and fades. All that remains is the primal, overwhelming need to survive.
But survival seems impossible in this icy hell.
I try to kick toward the surface, but the shoes strapped to my feet make my kicks sluggish, useless. Desperation fuels me as I reach down, fumbling to unstrap them. Finally, I kick them off, watching them disappear into the darkness. My dress restricts my movements, and the cold gnaws at my bones, but I am strong.
