He would build her a new resort, Mal thought. A better one, if she wanted. But would it ever be the same? Would the staff return, or would they take their severances and settle into new lives of luxury? He’d never seen such a close-knit found family, hadn’t even realized it was possible. Was this really the end of it, as they scattered across the globe?
His thoughts took him into the back entrance of the bar, where he was startled to find exactly the staff he’d been pondering quietly sitting in a loose circle around a cluster of tables.
“I’m sorry,” he said, realizing he was disrupting a private moment. “I can get something from the kitchen.”
“I don’t think so.”
Graham was looming behind him.
Mal gave him an amused look. “Do you have to get to the point of fisticuffs with everyone, Grant?”
Lydia stood to pull up another chair, and she gave Graham a chiding look. “Please join us,” she invited gently. “We all have a lot of questions.”
The audience he faced would have intimidated greater men than Mal but he squared his shoulders and took the seat Lydia indicated.
Laura looked like she had been crying, her mouth a firm line in her face. Amber had clearly not forgiven him for the news he had delivered the night before and Tony looked like he would have gleefully crossed the table that separated them to claw his eyes out. Mary’s expression was thoughtful, Alice looked like she’d just had a bad cup of coffee. Neal was frowning at Graham as he took a seat at the fringe of the group and Wrench looked like he was trying to figure out how to switch chairs with Lydia, who was patting Mal on the knee.
“This has come as quite a shock to everyone,” Lydia said in a smashing understatement.
“Whatever you’ve done to Scarlet, we’re not going to let you get away with it.” That was Travis, crossing his arms and glaring at Mal suspiciously.
“Graham says there’s a battle coming,” Alice said, sitting forward to lean on the table towards him. “Did you mean a legal battle?”
“Was the evacuation really necessary?” Magnolia and Chef were even there, sitting close together in creaking chairs. Chef had clearly been cooking and there was a platter of miscellaneous leftovers that no one seemed to have touched.
The sound of a throat clearing drew them all up short and Scarlet was coming in through the back entrance to the bar, Jenny at her side with a pile of papers. Mal had to make himself scowl not to smile foolishly at her and it took him a moment to realize why she looked so different.
Her hair was down, loose over her shoulders and in thick waves down her back. Mal dearly wanted to bury his fingers in that mane, to kiss her neck... he wrenched himself back to the moment with effort.
To Mal she said, “They deserve to know the whole story. This was their home, too.”
She walked into the bar like she owned it, which... she almost did. “I’m not enspelled,” she assured the rest of them as she picked up a tray and began to gather abandoned glassware; everyone had undoubtedly been busy with the evacuation the night before. “I’m not being blackmailed, I’m not being paid off, Mal hasn’t hypnotized me, and this isn’t his fault. It’s an unfortunate set of circumstances, and there are no fingers to be pointed.”
“It’s not because of the storms,” Graham growled.
“No one believes that for a moment,” Travis agreed.
“If there’s some way we can help...” Lydia offered.
“Anything, darling,” Magnolia added.
“Anything,” Chef agreed firmly.
Scarlet gave a warm smile around the room and Mal half-expected flowers to start sprouting out from between the tiles. How had he ever thought of her as chilly?
“You have been good friends,” Scarlet said. “Like family to me in all the best meanings of the word,”—Darla chuckled wryly—“and I have been touched and honored by your trust in me over the years, and your loyalty and your generosity.”
Her voice became firm. “But this is not your fight. Beneath the island is a monster, a sleeping wyrm from prehistory. The storms that are coming are a sign that he is waking, and if he does, he will break free and destroy everything he can reach.”
“The resort?” Tex asked.
“The resort,” Mal interjected. “The island. The mainland towns. The nearby cities, the farms, every ship on the ocean. He is destructive and strong, and if I fail to cage him, I don’t know who or what could stop him, but I know that the death toll would be unconscionable.”
Graham gave him a suspicious look. “And you think you can cage him? By yourself.”
“I know I can,” Mal said confidentially. “This has always been my destiny: to fight him and win.”
“What kind of monster is it?” Laura asked.