“Hurry up, slowpokes,” Sawyer yells, already dressed and heading down the path.
I notice that Jenna isn’t changing. “You’re not surfing?”
“Here? No way. It’s like overhead out there, if you haven’t noticed. I prefer the baby waves.” She thrusts a camera in my face. “I’ll just take some shots of you guys. Looking good, Lo,” she says loudly with an exaggerated wink.
I try to force myself not to look at him but it’s too late. My eyes connect with a killer six-pack made even more killer by the ridge of black neoprene riding low on a pair of very lean hips. With a sharp intake of air and scolding myself in the same breath for even noticing, I tear my eyes away. What’s wrong with me? It’s not like I haven’t seen tons of showboating surfer dudes flaunting their chiseled bodies all over La Jolla. I make myself look up, keeping my expression nonchalant.
But Lo makes no such effort. He’s staring at me with a look of blatant appreciation on his face, and this time I can’t stop the blush that rises like an answering tide through me, nor the feeling of complete dissolution taking hold of my body. I barely even notice Speio’s frown or Jenna’s ecstatic face.
I know one thing’s for certain.
It’s not the butterflies I need to be worried about.
5
TAKING THE DROP
Out here, the ocean is vast, like a glittering surface that stretches to meet the sky, dipping and rolling in constant movement. In the distance, the edges of Catalina break the line of the horizon. With the sun making its way down, everything is dusted in a golden tinge—a sea and sky of molten gold. This is my favorite time of day, just before the sunset shimmers into red and orange, when the world is at its most perfect.
Breathless, I lie on my board way past the lineup where the ocean is only a gentle swell, dangling my arm into the water and feeling the fine layer of salt crusting on my face. I’m not tired, but it has taken more effort than usual to control my impulses. On top of my volatile feelings with Lo, I know I’m playing with fire because being in the ocean this close to the full moon is risky, when the call of the sea is so strong.
The others are still going strong. I can see Speio in the distance doing a sharp cutback on a wave and Sawyer paddling out to the lineup. I don’t see Lo. I’ve done everything possible to stay out of his way, especially after that moment up top. I need time to process what this thing is—if anything—between us. Speio, thank goodness, hasn’t said a word to me about the earlier interaction but I’m sure he’s saving it for the ride home.
Great.
Staring down into the blue depths below me, I want to dive down and keep going until I meet the ocean bottom. The pull of the deep is as seductive as the sea salt on my skin. Maybe I can cheat just a little. There’s no one out here, anyway. I wiggle my fingers under the water and relax, letting the ocean seep past my human skin, watching as tiny rivers of gold-and-green light shimmer up my wrist and my arm. The feel of it is drugging, making me light-headed and dizzy.
I close my eyes only to have them snap open at the feel of steel fingers digging into my upper arm.
“What are you doing, you idiot?” Speio mutters, wrenching my hand out of the water. I didn’t even hear him paddle out to me. “Get it together!”
“I’m sorry—”
“Nerissa, I warned you that you had to be careful. I felt it the second you let go,” Speio says, looking around us nervously. “Other predators will, too. And we’re around people.”
“I know. I said I was sorry, and it was only for a second,” I say, rubbing my tingling arm with my other hand. My skin still glows a little, but nowhere near as brightly as when it had been submerged. “I couldn’t help it. The call was impossible to resist. I wanted to, just for a second.” My voice is beseeching.
Speio’s stern face relaxes. He straddles his board, sitting upright, and reaches across to place his fingers against my skin. Almost immediately, I can feel the sharp tug of the ocean, only through Speio’s body. It’s nearly violent. My eyes widen.
“Feel that?” he asks gently. When I nod, he says, “That’s what I have to deal with being in the water, worse when I sense another like me. In this case, you. That’s Dvija. Every part of me is open and calling out to that missing piece. You asked me about it earlier at school. It’s this—one part pleasure, a hundred parts pain. Even as a human. And it’s a thousand times worse in Aquarathi form.”
“Oh,” I say, stricken. “I didn’t know. How can I help? What can I do? Do you want me try Sanctum?”
When I was younger my father told me that part of the responsibility of being an Aquarathi leader is being able to preserve our people’s well-being, by emotional intervention if necessary. He called it Sanctum, and I only ever saw him do it once. I still remember the feeling of bliss emanating from every Aquarathi around him. His power and reach were awe-inspiring.
“Thanks, but it’s too dangerous in human form. Plus, you’re not a queen yet.” Speio smiles a wistful smile. “Bonding makes all the pain go away.”
Speio’s reality hits me with the force of a sledgehammer. My voice wavers as I put two and two together. “So because of me, you have to deal with feeling like this anytime you’re in the water. Or around me. That’s why you got so angry before when you found out that I’d never planned on going back.”
“Sort of.”
“I’ll fix this, Speio. I promise.”
My throat is constricted. Speio is right. I’ve been more selfish than I could have ever imagined. I had no idea of the pain he was in every time he was in the water or in proximity to me. And that night in the pool must have been torture for him, but he still stayed there.
To earn my forgiveness.
Suddenly, I feel so small and powerless, even though I’m supposed to be the one with all the power...the one they’re all supposed to come to for strength. I’m utterly useless. Speio’s words in the parking lot at Dover were hurtful, but nothing he said was untrue. I am weak and self-seeking. I am stupid, blindly so.
A tear slips down, tracking its way through the salt on my face, and I grip the sides of my board until my fingers go numb. I hate feeling sorry for myself more than anything. Speio hunches over and presses his forehead to mine. “Stop,” he whispers. “You’ll make it worse if you cry. It’ll be okay.”
“What if it won’t?” I sniff. “What then?”
“We’ll deal with that if we have to,” Speio says against my hair, and then yanks a fistful of it and shoves me off my board into the water with a playful grin. “Now if you want to stop being such a sniveling baby, maybe we can get a few more waves in.”
Drenched and spluttering, I glare at him and climb back on my surfboard. “I wasn’t sniveling. I was crying in a perfectly dignified manner.”
Speio makes a noise that sounds suspiciously like a snort and rolls his eyes. And snorts again. In the next second, I’m laughing so hard that my sides are aching and good tears instead of sad ones are pooling in my eyes.
“You’re
