The decision was made that we would split into two groups, and I was pleased to note that they did not bother to check whether to include me.

It was never in question; I was now part of the 'team'. Part of the family? Maybe not quite. Which perhaps was just as well, as it would raise some odd questions about my relations with one member of that family.

"Why not split into four?" questioned Declan. "We'd cover more ground faster."

"Safety," Connor replied, simply. "With two people, one can look out for the other. If the worst happens and one is taken, then the other can get in touch with the second pair."

It was an intelligent tactic, but it was also a grim reminder that this was a necessary precaution. We were going into danger. Them more than me, of course - the Twisted Club would have no use for a human. Which actually meant, now I thought about it, that they would probably just kill me.

That was a hell of a thing to realize.

"Who goes with who?" I asked, glancing around as the three of them finished loading their new burner phones with each of our numbers.

I wasn't sure how I felt when Connor wound up choosing to put me with Patch and paired himself with Declan. I liked Patch a lot, he was easy-going and friendly, and his jet-black hair and quick smile appealed to me, to the point of feeling a bit guilty that I was having fuzzy feelings about a second brother. But I could not help also feeling a little pang of sadness as I remembered the look on Connor's face when Patch had mentioned the name 'Eileen'. Clearly, there was a woman in his past to whom some sort of tragedy was attached; that might easily be holding him back. Or maybe his guilt about Saorise had driven a wedge between us.

In either case, there was no time to think on it long. Saorise was what mattered.

We opted for train travel. While the travel times were longer, we could leave ASAP. It was obviously not the first time that the guys had travelled using public transport, but it was equally obvious that it wasn’t something they did often. They pored over ticket choices and frowned at timetables as if they were written in another language. I was relieved that I was able to step in and make the arrangements for both groups.

"Saorise is better at this sort of thing," Declan commented.

The brothers said their farewells in a pretty restrained fashion, but with emotions still obvious beneath the surface. They were clearly not used to being separated for long periods. In truth, I found myself oddly affected by the parting, as well. I barely knew these guys and yet, I felt strongly attached to them so I almost felt tears rising when I hugged Declan and Connor goodbye. It was hard to believe that I had only known these men for a couple of days.

We got onto our respective trains.

The locations that Stanley had given us were all in major cities, places in which people had the money to afford a Twisted Club - tickets were prohibitively expensive - and places that allowed such an attraction to hide in the bowels, hidden away. I was a city girl, born and bred, but even I was sometimes horrified by the sort of thing that went on in the place I had called home all my life.

It wasn't very long into the journey before I became glad that I had been paired up with Patch. I wouldn't like to misjudge Connor, of whom I was very fond for all sorts of reasons, and yet my impression was that traveling with him would have been a silent experience. He was not chatty, and I felt that in the current situation, he was ashamed of being anything other than dour - he had no business enjoying life or even smiling as long as Saorise was missing. But different people dealt with loss in different ways, and Patch was a case in point.

He was filling every silence with easy chatter. None of which meant that he suffered any less than his brother. Even as he talked about this and that, the smile never leaving his face, I would sometimes catch a look in his eye and see the pain that dwelt behind the smile. This was Patch's coping mechanism. I doubted that it worked any better than Connor's - there are some things that simply cannot be 'dealt with' - but it was fine by me.

"Tell me about yourself." He had been talking about everything from books he had read to what he saw out of the window and I had been content to listen, now it was my turn, I suddenly felt inadequate to the task.

"Not much to tell."

"I seriously doubt that. Family?"

"Parents. One brother. I've got an uncle and an aunt out west but I don't see them often."

"You may get a chance."

I shrugged. "We might be able to stay with them. That would save some money."

I hadn't actually raised the question of money that much. They had paid for my tickets and accommodation - they had insisted - which had surprised me. Since they had not seemed to be staying at a hotel in New York, I had assumed that this expedition was being done on a shoestring, but now it seemed I was wrong.

Where did Selkie get money from? Did they all have day jobs? It was a relatively easy commute from the sea to the town each morning but it seemed very unlikely to me.

But it was none of my business.

"And you're a vet?" Patch pressed on with his subject.

"Veterinary nurse."

"What's the difference?"

"The pay scale. And I don't have to put people's beloved family members to sleep. So, pluses and minuses."

"Must be rewarding."

"On a good day. On a bad day, it's heartbreaking."

As we talked, I realized that it had never really occurred to me that Benny and I didn't talk. We said things and I could not fault him as a good listener, but he seldom responded on the same subject. I assumed he was listening because he said nothing, but looked at me with an open face as if taking it all in. Thinking about it now, I doubted that he could have answered any questions about what I had said. And I was probably just as guilty. We didn't converse or share. We exchanged facts.

With Patch, it was different. Perhaps, because we weren't dating, we felt no need to keep the other person interested, so we just talked, and in the process did keep each other very interested.

"Can I - and it's okay for you to say no - can I ask something about Connor?"

"Sure," said Patch, perhaps a little cagey. "But I reserve the right not to answer."

"Fair enough. You mentioned someone called Eileen. I got the impression..."

But Patch had already held up a hand. "I’m sorry. I can’t."

"Fair enough."

"It's not that it's a secret, and for all I know, he might be fine with it, but... it's not my story to tell."

Hours later, we arrived in Boston. We disembarked and got a cab to the hotel, barely stopping in the room long enough to dump our stuff and breathe before we were out the door again. Both of us keen to get back on the trail.

Was it too much to hope that Saorise might be in the first place we looked?

It was too much to hope. The abandoned warehouse in the old industrial sector of the city was empty, and there was no sign anyone had been there for months.

"Well, it was always optimistic to think they'd be at the first place we look," said Patch, forcing his bright smile, though I could see the pain behind his eyes. "We'll move on tomorrow. Baltimore was always a better bet, I reckon."

"I'll book the tickets when we get in," I agreed, trying to match his smile, though I felt as disappointed as he was. "Patch?"

"Yes, Sienna."

"Do you worry that while we're going to look for them in one city, they could be heading for the one we just left?"

We were searching the cities in order of proximity - which seemed the most logical way to do it. But the touring schedule of an illegal operation was not necessarily governed by logic.

The smile on Patch's face did not move. "Well, I'm definitely going to worry about it now."

We went back to the hotel, ordered room service, and watched TV. Patch found a quiz show, and we eagerly competed against each other, forgetting the disappointments of the day as we beat the onscreen contestants.

"When this is over, we should apply to be on this show," said Patch, indicating the screen. "We're better than any of these guys."

"My guess is they only let idiots on the show. So they don't have to pay out the big money prizes."

"So, they won't let us on?" Patch shook his head.

"We could pretend to be idiots in the auditions and then only reveal our brilliance in the actual recording."

"That's genius. We're definitely doing this."

Later in the evening, Patch retired to the bathroom, and minutes later I heard splashing. The door was ajar and I figured that if he had wanted total privacy, he would have locked it or at least closed it, so I sidled cautiously over and peeped in. In the bathtub was a large grey seal, its flanks dappled in white, its eyes a vivid green. It looked at me momentarily and then rolled over in the tub again, using its flippers to splash water across its velvety skin. Oddly, what struck me as most curious about what ought to have been a profoundly curious experience was that I found myself thinking how much the seal looked like Patch. I was confident that in a line-up of seals I could have picked Patch out sight unseen. In fact, I was confident that if presented with my four Selkie friends in seal form, I could have put the right names to them. Though he was a seal, Patch remained Patch - I was sure he was smiling at me.

I went back to the TV, not wanting to intrude any further on what might be a private moment. A few minutes later, back in human form, Patch re-entered and packed the wet skin away in his backpack.

"Didn't mean to pry," I said, which was not strictly true.

Patch grinned. "That's fine. Ideally, I need to get the skin wet once a day. I prefer to do it as a seal. To be honest - whichever shape I'm in, I like to transform once a day. Spend too long as a human and I can't swim so well. Spend too long as a seal and I forget how knees are supposed to work. You can always spot a Selkie who's been too long in the sea when they come out on land - legs all over the place."

Initially, the guys had offered to book me a separate hotel room, but I had declined. We were all grown-ups and there really was no need. Partly, I had said that because of the whole confusing money thing and partly, because - though I would be a little ashamed to admit it - at the time we hadn't yet decided who was going with whom and I was hoping to share a room with Connor.

I didn't mind sharing with Patch, or, at least, I didn't think I did. But on that first night of our journey together, after he had gallantly gone into the bathroom while I got undressed and got into bed, I found my eyes unwillingly drawn to him.

Patch seemed entirely lacking in modesty. Perhaps that was because I had already seen him naked at Battery Park that first morning, but I thought also that Selkie did not concern themselves with such things.

Why would they?

Seals have no worries about nudity, they don't feel the need to drape seaweed around their naughty bits in case another seal catches sight of them. Only humans cared about such things and this was a stark reminder that I was not sharing the hotel room with a human. That said, he looked exceedingly human as he stripped off his shirt to reveal an impressively muscled body. I noticed a scar across one shoulder and would have asked about it, but that would have revealed that I was watching him.

I tried to look away as he unfastened his pants. Well... not so much tried as told myself to look away and didn't. I watched wide-eyed as Patch slid his pants down his muscular legs. I didn't dwell long on his legs as my eyes were stuck on the tight ovals of his ass cheeks, encased in hugging underwear.

Was there more to come?

I bit my lip as he casually looped his thumbs into the waistband of his shorts and pulled them down, leaving me with an unrestricted view of the twins. I would have given anything at that moment to sink my teeth into his perfect backside. As he turned to get into bed, I caught a brief glimpse of something still more impressive, swinging healthily between his legs, but it was too swiftly hidden beneath the sheets for me to get a proper look.

The following morning, we were on the move again, heading south for Baltimore. The train was quiet so Patch taught me Irish folk songs, singing in a pleasant baritone, his accent giving the melody an attractive lilt that seemed to flip a switch in my libido.

Who'd have thought a voice could make a person this aroused?

"Are these Selkie songs or human ones?" I asked, trying to stop him singing for long enough for me to cool down a bit.

Patch shrugged. "Originally? Who knows? They're old enough that they were likely sung by human and Selkie together, back when they mixed freely and no one much cared. Now, I doubt there are any humans who would remember them, so I suppose we could call them Selkie songs."

"Sad," I commented.

"Maybe one day things will change."

I thought back to when they’d told me all the reasons they couldn’t trust humans enough to come into the light. As long as humans couldn't make peace with each other, as long as we used religion and race and who knows what else as an excuse to be thoroughly shitty to each other, then it made sense.

"We're not all like that," I said, a little meekly, wanting to stand up for my species but knowing that was probably a futile task.

"And Selkies aren't all nice, peaceable, tolerant fellows like me," said Patch, with a wan smile. "Let me tell you, there are those among us who could give the worst of you a run for your money, who'd like to wipe your kind from the face of the earth, if there weren't so many of you and so few of us."

"Good to know."

"Things change slowly."

We went back to songs.

Delays on the train meant that we checked into our hotel in Baltimore that night. Patch looked at his watch and pulled a face.

“Looks like we won’t be able to check it out until tomorrow.”

“First thing in the morning would be safer, anyway.”

Determined to put the delay from our minds, Patch and I ordered room service again and then played cards for candies.

"You’re cheating."

"I'm not," I put my hand on my heart, "I swear."

"I've been warned about your kind."

"Humans?"

"Women. And, certainly don't trust the pretty dark-haired ones who lure you in with card games and false promises."

I heard the whole sentence but the word 'pretty' stuck in my head and throbbed there. Patch thought I was pretty. Not that it mattered, of course, but... Well, it was nice to know.

I crunched a chocolate-covered peanut.

"You're eating your stake," said Patch in mock shock. "That is an example of conspicuous wealth and rampant consumerism. When you can eat your money, then you've got too much of it."

"Nobody's stopping you from winning it back." I grinned, shuffling the cards. "If you've got the stones."

"Nobody calls a Selkie's stones into question. Deal."

Patch won the next hand but I noticed my pile of candy had gone down more than it should have.

"Have you been eating my money?"

Patch pulled an affronted face. "Woog I?" he asked through a mouthful of peanut.

"And you called me a cheat. You thief."

I grabbed his hand, still full of my candies, and as I pulled it, cards fell out of his sleeve.

Patch swallowed.

"Now, I can explain that."

"Yeah, so can I; you’re a cheat!” I hollered, busting up with laughter. “A card shark. Where else are you hiding cards?" I launched myself at Patch, my hands delving into his clothing, hunting for hidden cards and finding nothing but hard muscle. I pushed him down onto his back in my eagerness.

"Rigging it to let you win?" claimed Patch as I searched him. “What are you going to do about it?”

I squealed as Patch tickled me, his hands locating the most vulnerable spots. I fought back and we were soon writhing on the couch in desperate fits of the giggles until we had to stop to get our breath back. I looked down at Patch and saw the simple joy and decency in his beautiful green eyes, his features lightly flushed from the laughter and exertion. And when he leaned into me, I met him halfway.