Forget Me: Immersed, #4

By Francesca Riley

SKYE THOUGHT MAGIC AND CURSES DIDN'T EXIST.

UNTIL SHE FOUND HUNTER.

AND NO ONE WALKS FREE FROM A CURSE.

Terrified by the dissolving barriers between Human and Nemaro, Skye fights to protect the love she's found. But when people long lost at sea appear in the village, fear spreads like poison.

 

With fury rising on land and in the sea, Skye and Hunter find themselves at the heart of the storm. Nowhere seems safe. Was she right all along? That there is no such thing as happy ever after?

 

As the clock ticks down, Skye faces a terrible realization: there is always a price to pay, and she is the one who must pay it. A life for a love. Forever.

 

Be swept away with the heart-rending fourth installment of Skye and Hunter's epic love story.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Ocean Echo Books
• Release date: Dec 7, 2022
• ISBN: 9780473604110

Francesca Riley

Francesca Riley is a New Zealander, living and working in Auckland, on New Zealand’s North Island. The stunning beaches of this beautiful country inspired those of Bannimor. Immersed is her first young adult series. Francesca is a writer and artist, who loves mysteries, movies and love.  Her favourite books are old-fashioned murder mysteries, or children’s and YA novels where bravery and passion exist alongside magic in the world we think we know.

Book preview

Prelude

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The seething wall raced closer. Darker; higher. There was no time left. Who knew death would sound so loud? She put her arms around the two people she loved most and defied the inevitable the only way she could.

1. Hunter. Together

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Someone must have turned Skye’s party music down. Guests’ boisterous, cheerful voices, pitched at a shout, pulled Hunter out of his floating bliss where for the duration of each dance, nothing in his world existed except Skye. Her slight frame pressed close against his chest, his arms around her.

Music swelling from those black boxes high on the café wall - ‘speakers’, though he had yet to hear them speak - had transported him. With Skye in his arms, he had quickly become oblivious even to the music.

He and Skye swayed to their own beat, like waves breathing in and out on the sand at low tide. He could feel her heartbeat against his. Or was it just his own, thudding at her closeness? She was part of him now. Bond-bound. He didn't think it would happen to him. No Nemaro had moved his heart, and his soul was long dead. Until this small, perfectly formed, world-altering girl fell into the channel and his heart.

Skye’s friends and family moved around them in the spacious café, some dancing, some drawing out chairs that scraped against the wooden floor. Music played, softer. The voices and laughter around him were a miracle after the scene of death here just a day ago. Well picked-over plates of food, laid out banquet-style, still emitted delicious smells. And through the open doors, the scent of the ocean tide teased him. After all the silent years of being nothing and barely existing, this, each thin breath of this dry air, even the pale colours of Skye’s world, because she was sharing it with him, meant so much it hurt.

He moved his mouth close to her ear, her hair silken under his cheek. I love you so much, Skye; I want to hold you like this forever. I don’t want to miss a second of you.

Her arms tightened around him, then she drew back, smiling. Do you remember the first time you said that? Her eyes were liquid. You were waiting for me in the water. The sun was coming up. You looked like an angel coming out of a satin sea. Her gaze, blue-green in the night-lit room, held his universe in their depths.

His chest didn’t feel big enough to contain his emotions. Skye, you can’t know what it meant that you came to me that morning. You found me, again. And because you did... I can cross into your world. I can hold you and not let go - and not kill you with my touch. To prove it, he cradled her face in his hands, and brushed his lips against hers, the heat from them no longer lethal.

Steady on, you two. This is a family show, Skye’s Uncle Mike nudged them, grinning.

Hunter drew back, disoriented, while Skye blushed. Mike’s phone rang, further dissipating the moment. Better take this. He moved away, and Skye snuggled back into Hunter, resuming their slow dance. Hunter tightened his arms around her again, marvelling at where he found himself.

Borrowed time.

The words came from nowhere. Or from somewhere deep inside him, scaring him.

Now the cheerful noise around them was jarring. He lifted his head, alert. Was there an edge to the laughter? A forced note in the happiness? Although his Nemaro abilities of ‘tasting’ human emotions didn’t work in the air, he sensed the unmistakable presence of dark attention, the kind that usually meant an enemy was close. He slowly surveyed the room. Faces he didn’t know; faces he did.

Morgan, standing apart from Skye’s young uncle, Mike, was busy with tidying an already-tidy stack of plates. Morgan and Mike were dancing closely earlier in the evening. Now Mike, finished with his call, looked perplexed as he watched Morgan avoid him.

Hunter looked at Skye’s father, Daniel, who turned from chatting with Rowena. His smile vanished as he saw Hunter with Skye, and his face tightened, eyes wary.

Rowena was watching Daniel, and her smile too fell away, an anxious frown replacing it.

Hunter looked into other faces, saw other fleeting traces of fear and puzzlement. Recognised the frightening uncertainty caused by the collision of his world with this. Did anyone remember it?

Then he caught the gaze of Ethan, his would-be competitor for Skye’s heart. As if trying to place him, Ethan stared at him with rapt focus. As if Hunter was a puzzle piece to fit by force if necessary. But when Ethan’s gaze shifted to Skye, Hunter instinctively swung Skye away, putting himself between her and the disturbing expression. His heart thumped. There was no reason to look at her like that. Like she was the enemy. Unless Ethan blamed her for what he couldn’t remember the day the Nemaro attacked. Or for something he did remember?

Disturbed by the sudden movement, Skye lifted her head and moved her arms from Hunter’s waist to link her hands behind his neck. Her lovely face glowed. He lowered his head to hear her words.

I can’t believe we have this, her breath was warm against his ear. We went through a lot, to be here, safe, and with everyone we love. Now we’re free. Can you believe it?

No, he whispered, trying to smile, to let her have this happiness; trying to soften his meaning. It was the truth. He didn’t believe it.

*

Hunter rose from the long sofa in the studio behind Café Bliss’ courtyard and stretched. He raised one arm, then another over his head, twisting his torso to release some of the tension from his back and shoulders. He wasn’t used to staying so still. Even drifting with the currents, he’d never really been immobile. Now as he stretched, his eyes found the painted canvases leaning against the wall opposite.

Skye’s paintings, mostly unfinished, faced out into the room; washes of colour and light inspired by her mother Elise’s fairy tale story, before Skye witnessed the light-filled shimmering Nemaro world herself. He wondered what paintings Skye would create now. His gaze rested on a canvas of two figures entwined, and a smile softened his tense face. Would there be more like that now? Or...

Would darkness fill them, depicting mesmerised enemies and a murderous auburn-haired fiend? Or perhaps a hoard of vengeful locals?

His tension wasn’t just from stillness. He had said goodnight to Skye’s birthday guests, and to Skye, hours ago, and came here to pretend to sleep. He’d spent most of those hours contemplating the dark undercurrents at the gathering.

Barely two days ago, all hell broke loose. Skye had rescued him, yet again, from what it meant to be Nemaro, and from being his clan’s Keeper. And, seemingly, in their selfless act of freeing the ancient souls stolen from Lithus and living dormant inside him as a life-source for his clan, he and Skye banished the darkness of that crime from his own soul. At least some of it.

But... The village must be reeling from the Nemaro attack they couldn’t remember. Who knew how many people collapsed when Thea stole their souls? Skye undid that cruel act, but when they woke from their fatal collapses, it was to find villagers once lost at sea wandering the town with no idea where they’d come from. How long would it take for them to remember his half-brother Jarrod had sent them ashore as weapons of abduction?

Whichever way he turned, whatever escape he clawed together for himself and for Skye, he turned full circle and faced his own wicked nature and the consequences of being Nemaro.

Hunter stared down at his hands, whose fingers had traced Skye’s beloved face. And closed with brutal intent around her fragile neck and squeezed, trying to kill her when he was under Thea’s spell.

Was his susceptibility to Thea’s evil manipulation because of her power or because of his lingering Nemaro stain? He wanted nothing more than to escape himself. How could he expect Skye to share her life with someone whose clan had nearly killed her and everyone she loved? So much irrevocably joined him to Skye, in so many ways. Yet her father’s disapproval, and more, still stood between them.

He looked down the narrow lane across Marine Parade to the Bay. As ever, to his Nemaro eyes the darkness was thin shadow.

Beyond the stone wall, the glimpse of the pewter sea sent a thousand, a hundred thousand memories spilling through his head in waves. Now Skye’s presence wove through the ripples in his mind, softening the misery of the countless trapped years. But he was still Nemaro. Was murderous darkness always going to be part of him? Would he ever be really free? He suspected that whatever he did, whatever penance he made, it would never be enough to escape what the Seers, Thea, and his clan had done.

He’d given the departing stolen lives a choice - stay with the Nemaro, or depart into Peace. Innumerable souls then passed along his life-giving connection to his clan, and Hunter felt each one of his people before their connection broke.

He sensed danger brooding, drawing nearer. From his clan? Or because of them? Did they yet live? Did the stolen souls? Once more, he needed to at least try to sense them; try to learn something about their current location. But he must be cautious. Given recent events, the village might watch the sea. The river mouth could be the best way to approach the Bay.

He let himself out into the narrow lane that ran beside the café to Marine Parade. When he reached the footpath, he turned right towards the tidal river and broke into a jog, running through the grey night.

2. Skye. Pursued

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Skye stared at the shadowy ceiling of Morgan’s bedroom above the café. The night was quiet after the party, and comfortingly familiar. She could hear Morgan’s soft breathing across the room and the faint rush of waves on the beach beyond the seawall. If she strained hard enough, she might hear the hum of café fridges downstairs. When Morgan had suggested she stay over, she’d jumped at the chance, reclaiming her divan bed from her summer here.

When she closed her eyes, her ‘surprise’ birthday party played like a movie, and her head still rang with the high decibel voices and laughter of her favourite people, dancing to her favourite music. It was like coming ashore after being on a boat: her body was still, but her brain hadn’t caught up.

She could still feel Hunter’s arms around her, his head lowered so his cheek touched hers as they slow-danced to their own tempo regardless of the beats filling the air. Her thumb traced the twisting curve of the shell ring Hunter had placed on her finger when they made promises to each other in the Nemaro way. Bond-bound. Had she really seen golden lights spiralling around them when their vows took hold? She had sure felt them inside.

It could sound like a terrible word. Bound. But they were bound to each other. By love. By giving everything they had to save each other, they left a part of their soul inside the other.

Staring at the dim ceiling, she realised that this room, this separation from him, and even her bedroom at home, belonged to her past. Was there any way she could get her father’s blessing to live the life she’d chosen at Hunter’s side?

She held Hunter’s face in her mind, letting the expression in his eyes flood her like a tropical tide. When she pictured his smile that seemed to come from the depths of him, her stomach filled with an entire school of dolphins leaping through waves. Joined. Completed. And opening out before them, a new, unknown life together.

Tomorrow was a teacher-only day. A full day with Hunter, and with Morgan too. Dad and Mike were coming over. And no doubt Rowena would offer them delicious food all day, and bottomless coffee. Hunter, in her world, with her friends and family. She’d never thought this was possible; it was more than she’d hoped for.

A feeling close to perfect happiness washed over her, and she smiled, luxuriating in the unfamiliar emotion. Maybe she was disproving her theory that happy ever after didn’t exist? This felt pretty damn good. Especially considering... Her smile faded.

Especially considering: that Hunter’s clan, the Nemaro, had brought their human court to the water’s edge all along the beach and sent them ashore, to take more humans from the village back with them. With the mesmerising persuasion of the Nemaro drawing on each person’s desires and fears, it was the perfect abduction technique; all would have gone willingly into the sea.

But they’d failed, and some of the human court had stayed ashore, making their way into the village. What must that have looked like? How was the village handling it? How were the people from Jarrod’s human court who had remained here handling it?

Skye tried to picture her mother walking out of the sea and coming home. How would Skye have felt? Would the return of these people, most presumed drowned, be welcome? How could it not shatter some lives? And...it must raise questions that might lead to dangerous answers.

Only two days ago, that insane day...

There were a lot of things about that day she couldn’t process. Like that murderous Nemaro psycho Thea, obsessed with Hunter, but with a grudge against her own people so fierce she tried to kill them all. Not forgetting she also tried to steal the souls out of the village while she was at it. Skye’s stomach churned. Oh, yeah, and she had also tried to use Hunter to strangle Skye to death. That was a fun day.

Her strongest instinct was to block it out to stop herself from going insane. She knew Morgan felt the same way. Skye’s dad had seemed like he was getting better, but she’d caught a disturbing expression on his face when he was looking at Hunter at the party earlier. Even Ethan was acting...weird.

She’d caught him just as he was leaving the party with Amber. In her happiness, she was feeling love for everyone, even Amber. Amber had looked at her with distrust. And Ethan looked at her like she was obscene.

It had shaken her. She considered him a friend, even a protector, but something had changed. Was it possible he remembered something about what had happened and blamed her for it? Dread added to the weight in her gut. What if he remembered? What if other people remembered too?

And Liam, son of the richest, most controlling man in the village, was missing. By choice, but his dad didn’t know that. If Liam was even still alive...

And this could all get worse. Much worse. 

Let it be over, she willed.

It was over. Let it stay over. Please, let this be her life from now on: everyone she loved, okay. Hunter was free of his prison and with her in her world. The Nemaro had gone back into the sea, Forgotten and unseen. Hunter had set the stolen souls free, to stay with the Nemaro, or to depart. It was enough, wasn’t it?

If it could end here. If the village could ignore the tiny matter of most of them collapsing when Thea stole their souls. And overlook the slight issue of people they thought had drowned, walking back out of the sea and into village life.

Too hard. Way too hard. Please, she whispered aloud, Let everyone be okay. Let this all be over now.

*

Skye must have fallen asleep, because she knew something had startled her awake. A noise that didn’t fit. She turned her head on the pillow. The window blind was open. The dark wasn’t completely dark to her anyway, in the strange way her vision seemed to have changed, and the faint glow of street light made it easy to see Morgan moving from the window across the wooden floorboards to the door.

At Skye’s movement, Morgan looked in her direction and breathed, Shhh.

And then Skye heard it. A voice downstairs in the café; an unknown male voice. A drunken voice? Heart pounding, Skye pushed her blankets aside and joined Morgan at the bedroom door.

What’s happening? Skye whispered close to Morgan’s ear. Who is it?

Don’t know. Can’t call the cops. No signal. Morgan opened the door a crack to listen. There was a sound of furniture moving downstairs and a chair hitting the floor.

Where is he? It sounded like a young man. I know he’s here. He sounded frightened. Or desperate.

A faint sound opposite them on the landing made Skye jump. It was Rowena, Morgan’s mother, easing her door open too. She had pulled a sweater over her sleepwear, ready for action.

When Rowena saw them, she shook her head at them, holding up a hand in the signal of ‘stop’. Something smashed in the café, and they froze, listening. More furniture hit the floor, perhaps a table and the upturned chairs on it. They had tidied up a little after the party before Rowena sent them to bed. Was he stumbling around in the dark, or throwing furniture? Skye’s heart thudded as unsteady footsteps drew nearer, and a dark silhouette appeared at the foot of the stairs.

Rowena looked from the figure below to Morgan and Skye. Skye recognised in her face a mother’s fear of what might happen if he came any further. Rowena’s expression became fierce, and she stepped out of her room and descended partway down the stairs. What do you want? she demanded.

Where is he? I need to see him.

Where is who? You need to leave right now.

I know he’s here. I need to see him, the voice rose, and the man climbed towards them. Skye caught the glint of something in his hand.

There is no one here except us. Get out of here right now. The police are already on their way.

I need to see him! The young man’s voice rose to a scream, I need to see him.

I’m here. Hunter’s quiet voice fell like an anchor in the storm.

The young man spun towards Hunter, who stood at the bottom of the stairs. For an instant, Hunter looked past the intruder and met Skye’s gaze, and her fear subsided.

Is it you?

Hunter looked at the young man. Yes.

I can’t see you.

Hunter reached to the light switch at the foot of the stairs and flipped on the light. Although Skye couldn’t see the stranger’s face, she thought he looked young. He was dripping wet and rocking. In his left hand, he held a knife, perhaps taken from the kitchen. He had shielded his eyes from the sudden glare, but lowered his arm to stare at Hunter, and took a step down the stairs towards him. Yes. I’ve seen you there.

Skye’s stomach roiled. This wasn’t a Nemaro - he would have dissolved. That meant this was one of Jarrod’s human court from Lithus; one who didn’t go back to the sea when their attack failed.

Hunter moved away from the stairs to draw the young man after him. What do you want?

To go back. I need to go back there. Help me go back.

Go back? Hunter moved further back into the café. The intruder followed him. Rowena looked back warningly at the two girls, then descended. When she reached the café, she moved cautiously towards the kitchen.

How about some hot chocolate to warm you up? Skye heard her offer in a calm tone. Morgan and Skye looked at each other, then crept down the stairs and stood just inside the edge of the café. No way were they leaving Rowena and Hunter alone.

They saw Hunter face the intruder, a few metres apart near the centre of the café. Now Skye could see he was around her age, thin, with wide, staring eyes, and short-cropped dark hair. Something about him reminded her of Harvey. Perhaps the hair, or the nervous energy of someone needing a particular fix. A Nemaro fix. Thea had shown an unhealthy interest in Harvey. As if Skye’s thoughts had transmitted to him, he spoke.

She said you would be here.

Who said I would be here?

The boy didn’t answer. His gaze seemed drawn to the mural Skye had painted out of her own obsession with Hunter and his ocean world. Azure waves rolled across the wall, swimming figures only just visible in them, two of them entwined, moving together through the teal waters that represented Bascath Bay across the road. He stared at it. When he spoke, he sounded stoned. I had forgotten her, but when I saw her at Ciarlan Cove, I remembered. She helped me to remember more.

He can’t mean... Skye felt hands closing around her throat again. She opened her mouth to draw in the suddenly scarce air.

He looked at Hunter again, urgency returning to his voice. "But she can’t help me return. She said you can."

I can’t, Hunter said. This is where you belong, and where I belong. Don’t you want to stay? In the air? In the sunlight?

I want to be happy, his aching loss was apparent in his voice. I don’t belong here. He circled away from Hunter, moving nearer to the stairs. I made a mistake. I can't stay here. Too heavy. Sinking into the earth with every step, like lead. And the colour... there is no colour. No meaning. He gave a hiccupping sob that wrenched at Skye’s heart. I didn’t mean to go into the village. Help me go back. He pointed to the ocean and Skye heard Rowena gasp. I have to go back.

Hot chocolate? Rowena called, her voice wobbling despite her brave attempt to sound calm.

He jumped, looking around as if disoriented, then focused on Hunter again. I tried on my own, but it didn’t work. I need to go back, he whispered. Will you help me?

I can’t. I’m sorry, Hunter repeated quietly. What is your name?

He raised the knife a little and swallowed. Connor.

I have a hot drink here for you, Connor. Rowena’s voice broke. It will make you feel better. She left the café counter and approached, holding a cup.

Connor ignored her, taking another step nearer the stairs. "But she said you could help me go back. She said only you can."

No. I told you. I’m sorry. To do that, I would have to stay there with you. My life is here. Involuntarily, he looked at Skye. Rowena’s gaze sharpened, looking from one to the other. Your life can be too, Hunter said.

Connor turned his head and looked at Skye. The light in his eyes became eerily focused. The atmosphere in the room shifted. Skye’s insides plummeted.

She said you would say that, Connor whispered. She told me that the reason I’m trapped here.... he pointed the knife at Skye, is her. His hand wasn’t shaking anymore. "We are all trapped here because of that one."

He looked at Hunter again. She said if you didn't help me, I could make you. Before anyone could move, faster than Skye could react, the boy rushed to her, seized her hair at the back of her head, and pulled her head back. She felt a sharp line sting her neck, and a trail of liquid trickled down her skin. If there is nothing here for you, you’ll have no reason to stay.

3. Skye. The Returned

Nobody moved. The cutting edge pressed to her throat trembled in the hand that held it, making the pain worse. Skye was hyper-aware of everything: the smell of the sea emanating from Connor’s dripping clothes; his painful grip on her hair; Morgan staring, horrified.

Skye couldn’t turn her head to look at Hunter or Rowena, but she could feel them; their focus on her and Connor - their fear.

You are right. Hunter’s husky voice was low. He moved slowly into Skye’s line of sight. Without Skye, I have nothing to stay here for. But without her, I would have nothing anywhere. He stepped closer. "Harming Skye will open a new world of pain for you,