The Silver Bridle

Webb Cove, Maine

Mist and fog rolled in from the Atlantic Ocean off the coast of Webb Cove, Maine. The low visibility hid the figure making its way out of the surf, then walking along the beach. Human, male, shirtless and barefoot, clad only in loose drawstring slacks. A strand of seaweed lingered in his black hair, still wet from the seawater. Stormy gray eyes scanned the beach as he gathered his bearings, and then set about for the path leading up the rocky shoreline.

It had been a while since he’d shed his natural form for his preferred human shape, but he remembered enough about the two-leggeds to know it would not do to be naked when first seen.

Just as well, since he had reached the foot of the cliff when he heard a voice, saw a feminine figure take shape through the fog.

“Sir? Are you all right?”

For a split second, he thought she might be one his own kind—or perhaps a water nymph. But nay, her scent was fully human, and he didn’t recognize her accent besides.

Then he chided himself. Of course he wouldn’t. He’d come across the ocean to be rid of his captors, after all.

And then it sank in that she was talking to him, awaiting a response.

“Aye.” His voice was rough, rasp from disuse. Held the musical accent of his native Scotland. He swallowed, Adam’s apple bobbing. “Thanks for your concern, lass, but I’m fine.”

She came closer, and he made out long blonde hair, blue-green eyes. Those eyes—the color of the sea on a clear day—widened when she saw his state of dress—or, undress. “Were you shipwrecked?”

“No.” The question amused him. “I walked out of the sea.”

“In this weather?” She looked as if she was going to ask more, and then clearly thought better of it. “Look, you need to dry off, have a change of clothes. What’s your name?”

“Murdoch.” He gave her the name he normally used when in human form. “Murdoch MacGregor.”

“Well, Murdoch, I can fix you up with clothes, something to eat. Follow me.”

She turned, headed up the path to the parking lot at the top of the cliffs. Since he had nothing better to do, Murdoch followed.

His stomach growled, remind him of his hunger—but no, not this one. Satisfying his ravenous hunger was not why he’d chosen to come ashore. To escape his captors, yes—but also to find a human mate. A bride.

She stopped near a small Toyota, unlocked it. “Hop in. I’ll drive you into town.”

Since he wasn’t in a position to refuse, Murdoch opened the passenger side and buckled in. “May I ask your name?”

She buckled in, started the engine, pulled out of the parking lot. “Lily.”

“Well, Lily.” He smiled—or tried one, anyway. It had been a long time, and he wasn’t used to these facial muscles. “Tha mi toilichte do choinneachadh.”

She glanced at him blankly. Realizing, he translated. “I’m pleased to meet you.”

“Mmm.” She gave him another sideways glance, and then returned her attention to the road. “I haven’t seen you around town before. Are you new?”

“Very new. I just moved here. Haven’t found anywhere to settle yet.”

It wasn’t a lie.

Lily sighed. “I know someplace where I can set you up with a change of clothes, a bed for tonight, at least. But after that, I need to go to work.”

“That’s fine.” He considered it a moment before asking, “Where do you work? Perhaps I’ll stop by.”

She was silent for several long moments, clearly reluctant to answer. “Why do you want to know? Stop by, whatever.”

Murdoch shrugged, a casual movement. “Can’t I return a favor? Repay you in some way?”

Lily thought it over. “I suppose not. So, where are you from, Murdoch?”

“Scotland.”

“Oh? That explains the accent. What area of Scotland?”

“I’d rather not say, if it’s all the same to you.”

“Mmm. I can understand that.”

He smiled thinly. “I doubt that.” If she knew his past, what he really was, would she sympathize? Or would she turn on him, run from him?

The rest of the drive was silent, save for music from the radio station.

Fleetwood Mac’s “Rhiannon” had faded, changed to Heart’s “Magic Man” when Lily finally pulled in and parked, killed the engine.

“Okay, we’re here. Local bed and breakfast. Have you got any money on you?”

Murdoch stared blankly for a moment. Money? Normally he never had any need for it, spending most of his time in his other form. Then there had been his capture and enslavement by the MacGregor clan... He’d been lucky enough to escape.

Lily sighed. “Tight wad.”

“I came up from the sea,” he found himself saying. “What did you expect?”

“Good point, I guess.” She gave him a hesitant smile. “Okay. Tonight’s on me. I’ll pay for your room, at least.”

So saying, she unbuckled her seat belt, opened the driver’s side door, and exited.

After she’d settled Murdoch in for the night at The Seaside Inn, Lily made her way to the coffee bar-slash-bookstore where she worked as a barista. She clocked in and changed into her uniform, settled herself behind the counter... and waited.

An hour went by with slow business. The bell over the door chimed as a new customer came in, but Lily didn’t look up from her book until the light suddenly dimmed. She glanced up—and then did a double-take.

“Murdoch! What are you doing here?”

He’d changed clothes, she noticed vaguely, into a fresh shirt, trousers, and shoes—and he cleaned up nicely.

“Thought I would walk around town for a bit. See what’s here.” He smiled crookedly. “The desk clerk at the Seaside was very quick to tell me where you worked.”

Lily wasn’t sure how she felt about that, other than disquieted. “So you decided to come here, what, just to see me?”

“No.” There was that smile again, disarming. “I wanted something to read. Eat, drink. That I can have all three in one place is convenient.”

Despite her misgivings about this stranger she’d picked up and given a ride, Lily found herself giving him a half-smile back. “That’s the plan. So, what would you like to order?”

Murdoch’s eyes flicked to the menu behind her. He studied it for a minute, then placed his order.

It wasn’t until after he’d ordered that something occurred to Lily. “How are you going to pay, exactly? You didn’t have any cash earlier.”

“Magic.” His tone and face were so deadpan that, for a second, she wasn’t sure if he was joking or not. Then he grinned and pulled out a twenty. “Here you go.”

She took it, gave him his change. Eyed him suspiciously. “Okay, then. Enjoy your meal, I guess.”

“I will, ta.” So saying, Murdoch took his sandwich and drink, sat down at one of the open tables. A book was already there. He cracked it open, read as he ate.

Lily watched for a few minutes, her gaze inexplicably drawn to him. She had good reasons for being wary of strangers—particularly male ones. Webb Cove, Maine, was an escape for her, someplace she could be safe from her past.

Where nobody would come looking for her.

With his name and accent, not to mention how she’d found him, Murdoch clearly hadn’t been sent by her ex.

Still, he hadn’t found her yet—and Lily wanted to keep it that way.

And although she was wary about getting close to him—to anyone—there was something about Murdoch that had her wanting to know more. If anything, her impression was that he was on the run from his past as well.

I can certainly relate to that.

Lily opened her mouth to say something—anything—to Murdoch, engage him in conversation...

...when more customers came up to order. Local college kids using the coffee shop as a place to study, work on homework.

And the moment was lost.

When she next had a chance to look over at his table, Murdoch was gone.

Two weeks passed, during which Lily found herself settling into a strange new routine. She would check in on Murdoch at the Seaside Inn either in late morning or early afternoon before her shift started from late afternoon to evening. Show him around Webb Cove, help him stock up on clothing and whatever else he needed. Spend time simply talking with him—although she was careful not to reveal too much about her past. Something told her he was doing the same. Lily didn’t know why, exactly, but she’d taken an interest in him. Not a romantic one, but an interest nonetheless.

And Murdoch was clearly interested in her.

During these past two weeks, he always managed to show up during her shift, stayed there until she clocked out. Walked her out to her Toyota before making his own way to the Seaside Inn.

He never said anything to her outside of placing his order; didn’t try to take her attention away from her job. Instead, while he read or ate or drank his tea (almost always tea or hot chocolate, never coffee), he... watched. Her, the other customers in the cafe.

As if he were taking everything in.

Or waiting for something. Someone, even.

Today, the relative quiet of the evening was suddenly broken by the roar of motorcycle engines. Murdoch’s head snapped up from his book, nostrils flaring, at the chime of the front door. He shut it, slid it aside as a group of men entered the store, looked around... and beelined for Lily.

She recognized the patches on their vests and jackets, their colors. Outwardly sighed—and tried to hide her nerves. “What can I do for the Sinners?”

Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed Murdoch’s body language had gone alert, attentive. That he was watching with interest.

The man in front flicked his eyes to the menu board, then her. His gaze lingered slowly over her body, and the frank sexual interest there made Lily’s skin crawl. “Maybe you can give us directions to the nearest bar.”

“Where did you ride in from?”

“Freeport.”

“Then you’ll want to head northeast, on the outskirts of town. There’s a biker bar there.”

“Thanks for the help, little lady.”

The hairs on the back of her neck bristled, but Lily forced a cool smile. “Ayuh. Now, if that’s all...”

“It isn’t.” His smile then had gooseflesh breaking out on her forearms. “The boys and I have been riding for days. We’ve got a real bad hunger. Maybe you can satisfy it.”

Her mouth went dry. Lily closed it into a thin line, shook her head firmly. “I don’t think so. Now leave, or I’ll have you thrown out.” Her eyes quickly flicked past him to Murdoch; she subtly tilted her head.

The Sinners biker smirked. “Yeah? I’d like to see you try, little lady.”

“Excuse me.” Murdoch was there, so fast and silent that even Lily hadn’t seen him move. He placed a warning hand on the man’s shoulder, gray eyes steely. “The woman wants you to leave.” He tightened his grip on the biker’s jacket. “So let’s take this outside before you cause any more of a scene, yes?”

The man briefly winced; hid his discomfort at Murdoch’s grip with a snort. “Who are you? Her boyfriend?”

Murdoch’s answering smile was cold, vicious. “That’s for me to know and for you not to find out.” He began walking the leader out the front door. “Now let’s go.”

Before exiting, he shot Lily a look over his shoulder. “No matter what you hear, stay inside.”

Since it was probably for the best, Lily nodded in return. It wasn’t until the whole group had trailed out and the door shut behind them that she exhaled shakily.

Then she forced herself to return to her usual chores.

Once the door swung shut behind them, Murdoch leaned against it with his arms folded over his chest. He stared down the Sinners leader. “I’m only going to say this once. Get on your bikes and head out to that biker bar. If I see you around here later, it won’t end well for you.”

The man’s eyes narrowed. “Is that a threat?”

“Oh, no. It’s a promise.” Murdoch smiled, his teeth suddenly sharper than normal. Pointed. Fangs exploded in his mouth as the hunger threatened to consume him.

Two weeks, and he hadn’t yet sated his appetite. He needed to feed—soon.

Maybe it was his too-sharp smile. Maybe it was something else lurking in Murdoch’s gaze. Either way, the Sinners leader stepped down and mounted his motorcycle. Barking an order at his men, the club drove off.

Murdoch watched, waited. At last, satisfied they wouldn’t return anytime soon, he went back inside.

Lily immediately looked in his direction, her expression worried. The smile he gave her was quick, reassuring—and his teeth were back to normal.

“They’re gone.” He told her the news quietly, wanting to avoid eavesdroppers. “But I can stay here with you until end of shift. Just in case.”

She swallowed, glanced away, and then smiled back. “Thank you.”

He shrugged. “I don’t have anything better to do. Besides, I want to make sure you’re safe. I don’t trust their leader.”

“I don’t either.” She glanced around the cafe. “And I should get back to work.”

Hours later, evening fell. Murdoch waited for Lily while she clocked out. He stepped out of the bookstore, started for her vehicle...

...and stopped as he caught a now-familiar scent. Whirled around, nostrils flaring and teeth bared.

“I see you didn’t listen earlier, lads.”

There were only two bikers now: the leader of the Sinners group and one of his friends.

“Just couldn’t stay away.” At a silent signal, both men flanked Lily and Murdoch. The leader grabbed Lily by the arm, started walking her down the street to an alley a few blocks away. His henchman did the same with Murdoch, fingers brushing against the silver bracelet he wore. Murdoch hissed in pain as it burned into his skin—a reminder that he’d once been captured.

Never again.

The Sinners’ leader reeked of alcohol. Murdoch could smell it, and his upper lip curled back in distaste. He hated tainted meat, but he was so starving that he’d take what he could get.

When the man stopped, slammed Lily up against the wall, leaned in close, Murdoch made his move. He twisted free of his captor, hooked his fingers into the Sinners leader, tore him away from Lily, and slammed the man against the brick wall.

“Run!” Murdoch snapped at her.

She did, heading back to her car—he hoped.

Then it was just Murdoch and the two Sinners. He grinned, teeth razor-sharp, and leaned in close, savoring the man’s fear.

“I have a real bad hunger. A craving.” Deliberately, he used the man’s same words from earlier. “Maybe you can satisfy it.” He relished the terror in the man’s eyes.

“H-hey, man, I don’t swing that way.”

“Oh, I’m not talking about sex.” Again white teeth flashed, pointed. Serrated. “I’m starving.”

His head shape-shifted briefly to that of his true form. Teeth bit down, sliced through flesh, and tore out the man’s throat.

Normally, Murdoch preferred to drown his victims, but it would take too long for that.

And the hunger was upon him.

Shifting fully back to human form, he gave in and tore into the warm meat.

He made quick work of his prey. Tore open the stomach, ripped at the entrails. Stripped flesh from bone.

He’d forgotten about the other biker until the sound of a gun being cocked broke through his feeding frenzy.

“G-g-get back, you monster!”

Murdoch had no desire to be shot. Not tonight, not ever. Using his speed, he was on the man instantly, tearing the gun from the other’s hands. This one he disposed of quickly by breaking the neck.

Then, still hungry, he lowered his head and began to feed.

When he was finished, Murdoch stood, wiped the gore from his hands and mouth. An illusion took care of the rest, hid the bodies from view of any passerby, and anchored to the surrounding alley so it wouldn’t drain his energy.

Satisfied that he was presentable enough, he exited the alley and walked back to Lily’s Toyota.

She was sitting inside, waiting for him.