Page 41 of Taken By the Pack

“A little pressure’s good for you. Keeps you sharp.”

I take a sip of coffee. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

“Good. Check in later. And Ash?”

“Yeah?”

“Don’t piss off the locals too soon.”

“Can’t make any promises.”

She hangs up.

I shove the last of my bagel in my mouth, grab my gear, and head out.

* * *

The coastline is rugged,all jagged rocks and rolling waves. The tide’s starting to pull back, exposing slick patches of kelp and shallow pools teeming with tiny crabs and darting fish.

I crouch near the water, jot down a few notes, snap a picture.

The air is sharp with salt. Peaceful.

Then a voice behind me says, “That some kinda fancy city job, or you just like staring at puddles?”

I turn.

The guy’s older, maybe late sixties, built like someone who’s spent his life hauling in nets. He’s got a blade of grass between his teeth, arms crossed over a weathered jacket.

“Depends on who’s asking,” I say.

“Name’s Tom.” He jerks his chin toward my notebook. “And what exactly are you doin’?”

“Studying the tide pools. Water levels, marine life, stuff like that.”

He squints. “For what?”

“Changes in ocean patterns. How they affect fish populations, erosion rates?—”

“Uh-huh.” He chews on the grass. “So, a bunch of science shit.”

“Pretty much.”

He nods like he’s filing that away for later. “You need a boat?”

I sit back on my heels. “Yes. Why?”

“Got a guy who could take you out. If you ain’t too particular about the company.”

I raise a brow. “Who’s the guy?”

Tom just grins. “Never mind that. Here he is now.”

I follow his gaze to the shore, where a boat is pulling in.TheHeleneis painted across the side in weathered blue.

A tall, broad-shouldered man steps onto the dock, water dripping off his boots.

He moves with the kind of ease that says he’s been doing this his whole life.

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