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Not that I want to, of course.
Lo laughs at something Sawyer says, throwing his head back and raking a hand through hair that’s the color of sand. When we first met, he was wearing a wet suit hood and then a beanie. I assumed that he was dark-haired, given his dark eyebrows, but instead he is more on the blond side. The lightness makes his eyes seem almost black in contrast.
Lo’s gaze slips across the table toward me, and I duck mine hastily and pick at my food. I hardly want to be caught staring at him, especially with Cara sending incineration-size glowers toward our table. Lo has been sitting with them at lunch, so it must be killing her that today he’s at my table. I’m not usually one to give in to petty rivalries, but Cara’s been getting under my skin lately as if she has some kind of point to prove, with Lo especially. The thrill that runs through me at the thought of what she’d say if she knew about the date has me grinning—a grin that draws Lo’s attention like a spark. So when I see Speio waving at me from across the cafeteria, I grab my tray and excuse myself.
“As much as I love hearing you guys gab about how surfing is the answer for world peace, I gotta run. Catch you later.”
“Aw, don’t be hating, Riss,” Sawyer says with a teasing grin. “It’s all good. Haven’t seen you on the waves lately. You forgot how or what?”
“I just don’t want to show you up,” I joke back.
“You surf?” Lo’s voice is quiet but surprised.
“Sometimes.” I would never tell either of them that I surf mostly at night when no one else is in the ocean...when it’s just the waves and me. Plus, it’s dangerous, especially if either of them chooses to come along. The sea is full of dangerous predators after dusk—sharks, to say the least. They keep a healthy distance from the Aquarathi, but for humans they probably wouldn’t be so charitable. “Haven’t been lately, though.”
“You should come after school today,” Sawyer says. “High tide’s at four. You in?”
With a glance at Lo, I shrug. “I’ll think about it. Jenna wants me to go shopping with her so we’ll see. Later.”
“I’m looking forward to tomorrow,” Lo says. I ignore the low burn that his words cause deep in the pit of my stomach, and choke back my automatic sarcastic response. Jenna’ll kill me if I ruin her grand plans for my love life. Instead, I try to smile and look enthusiastic, but my effort is poor at best. Lo grins as if he can see right through me.
On the other side of the cafeteria, Speio seems to be in a good mood despite the still-shaky fallout from our fight. Although we had talked about everything, things between us are not as easy as they used to be. I still don’t have any answers with respect to the situation with Ehmora, so for now, we have to wait until his father can find out more about Ehmora’s motives from his remaining connections.
I mean, she left me alone for an entire year after my father was murdered, so it stands to reason that she has what she always wanted, control over the High Court. After much discussion, I realized that Echlios and Speio were right and, regardless of what happened, I can’t hide forever. I’m the only living heir to the High Court, and as much as I love living in the human world and the anonymity it gives me, the responsibility I have to my people weighs on me. Am I scared? Sure. But leaving people in the hands of a false queen with a crazy agenda is far worse than the alternative.
Echlios’s spies told him that many of those who were loyal to my father—and still are—are being imprisoned and eventually exiled or executed for fictitious crimes against Ehmora. There has been a systematic cleanse of anyone who could ever oppose her, a vicious act that only I can put an end to once I come of age. And so, we’ve formulated a loose plan. I’ll continue to participate in my cycle of human adaptation, while Echlios engages his allies in the High Court or any of the other lower courts.
Despite my command to do nothing after my father’s death, he’d been intent on protecting my interests—both here and in Waterfell—a fact that I’m now very grateful for. Without him, I’d probably have no allies. Speio will continue to be an extra layer of security at school, and for the moment, it will be business as usual until we regroup and come up with a more solid plan of action.
“So the new guy seems to be getting close to your circle,” Speio comments through a mouthful of chocolate brownie.
“Gross, Speio. I can see into your stomach from here. And no, he’s not a part of my circle. He and Sawyer are having a surf bromance. We’re all going to the Crab Shack on Saturday if you want to come,” I say in a nonchalant voice. Speio swallows and watches my face carefully as if trying to assess my words for truth. I widen my eyes and paste a sardonic expression on my face. “Your brain’s going to explode if you keep trying to mind-meld me.”
He grins and resumes chewing. “So what do you know about him?”
I lean forward with a conspiratorial look and whisper, “He’s a Death Dealer who moved here from Hawaii. You know, a secret lycan-killing vampire machine. We need to be super careful around him. He’s out for blood, I can feel it.”
Speio rolls his eyes, relaxing. “Ha, ha, very funny. And seriously, quoting from Underworld? You could do so much better in the realm of vampire cult movies. Kate Beckinsale is weak.”
“Kate is awesome,” I say. “One day, I’m going to rock a pleather cat suit just like that one. Think I can pull it off?” I gesture at my torso and Speio shakes his head, grinning at me.
“Nope, you can’t.”
I grin back and shove him in the shoulder at the insult. We burst out laughing together.
I’m still giggling as my eyes connect with a pair of amused blue ones from the lunch table I just vacated, and the laughter flies from my lips. Lo has turned his chair so that it’s sideways against the table and his feet are propped on the one beside him, one arm resting along the table and drumming with his fingertips. He holds my gaze effortlessly, a whisper of a smile playing about his lips. There’s something there I can’t place, the pull of something magnetic...like water to water. I’m only able to drag my eyes from the spell of his at Speio’s voice.
“What?” I mumble, suddenly disoriented.
“Sure looks like he’s in your circle.” This time, I can’t help the dark flush that seeps up the back of my neck and into my cheeks. I glare at Speio and keep my eyes firmly on the table, embarrassed to have been caught in a weird eye-lock with some boy.
“Look, he’s just a new kid. Check him out if you have to, I don’t care.”
But I do care. A part of me wants to know everything there is to know about Lo. I want to know why my heartbeat trips over itself every time I think about him, or why his name makes me breathless. Even if it means getting Speio to do it.
“I can introduce you after school,” I offer.
I glance at Speio and chew on my bottom lip, trying to think through whether adding Speio to the mix would be a smart decision. I sigh. I’m already going to the Crab Shack with Lo, so Speio’ll have to meet him sometime—it’s one of Echlios’s few rules: anyone who comes close to me has to be thoroughly checked out. Even Jenna was subject to scrutiny once we started hanging out together regularly, and then Sawyer because he was Jenna’s boyfriend. I joked once to Speio that he was my Aquarathi Secret Service. Let’s just say he wasn’t as much a fan of the acronym as I was.
“Surf session after school,” I say. “Want to come with?”
“Surfing? During the day?” I nod. “You’re going to have to tone it down, you know. It’s a full moon in a few days, which means you’re going to have to be extra careful with the water...and the other things.”
“I know, Speio.”
A shiver races up my spine at the thought. Speio means the fish and other sea creatures. Around full moon, they tend to get a little crazy around us, which is why I don’t go swimming then if I can help it. They aren’t dangerous. They’re just more aggressive so they draw too much attention. Soren told me once that it had something to do with us glimmering in response to the moon. Full moon is a very uninhibited time for my people—apparently Aquarathi pheromones are a pretty powerful thing—and we are apt to get a little moon-crazy.
It gets worse until we bond with a mate, which usually happens soon after we mature into adulthood in a coming-of-age transition called Dvija. Most Aquarathi experience Dvija between fourteen and nineteen, so it’s unusual for any of us to go beyond our teen years without bonding with a mate. I’m almost seventeen and still haven’t experienced Dvija. Speio has, but living as humans, neither of us has had the opportunity to think much about bonding.
“What are you thinking about?” Speio asks, interrupting my train of thought.
“Dvija and bonding,” I admit. If I can’t talk to Speio, who else can I talk to about the ins and outs of who we are? Echlios and Soren, as much as I love them, are way too much like parents for me to be comfortable bringing up something so awkward.
Speio’s eyebrows shoot into his head. “Um, okay. That’s weird.”
“Don’t you ever think about it? I mean, you went through Dvija two years ago. What does it feel like?”
“Wow, time and place,” Speio says, glancing around, and then pauses, watching me and leaning across the table. “Riss, where is this coming from? Are you okay?”
I feel myself blushing. I refuse to let my eyes slide to the boy sitting at the edge of my peripheral vision. Why would a human boy make me think about bonding? It isn’t like it would be possible with one of them. Although in human form we’re physically compatible with humans, bonding is altogether an entirely different matter. For the Aquarathi, it’s a connection at the most basic molecular level—the core of who we are, of everything we are.
“Never mind. It was just something Soren mentioned,” I say quickly, and change the subject. “So about surfing, I’ll be careful, I promise. And if you come, you can keep an eye on me.”
“Sure, I’ll be there,” Speio says, looking incredibly relieved that we’ve veered away from the bonding subject. His grin widens into something roguish. “Those friends of yours better be ready for a schooling.”
The rest of the afternoon passes in a blur, and apart from a few speculative glances from Lo during English whenever he thinks I’m not looking, it feels like I’m back in my groove. I’ve taken more detailed notes than usual but it’s either that or obsess about why Lo keeps sneaking furtive looks in my direction. I’d rather write a thousand pages of notes than tie myself up into knots about what some human boy thinks about me.
I’d also told Jenna before class about the impromptu surf session but she doesn’t seem too upset about postponing our shopping date.
“Sawyer said it would be good practice before the surf meet,” she says. “And we know I’ll do anything for that boy, including not shopping. That’s true love for you.”
I shake my head at her lovesick face, studiously ignoring her suggestive glances that swing in Lo’s direction and then back to me. I know exactly what she’s hinting at but it’s not going to happen. Double date or not, getting to know a boy who already makes me jumpy—or makes me think about bonding—is a definite no-no.
“Stop,” I tell her when she starts making smoochy faces.
“Come on,” she whispers. “He’s hot.”
“There’s far more to life than hot boys,” I whisper back. Although my sneaky inner self doesn’t dispute that Lo is hot in a sexy, two-dimensional kind of way—like one of my favorite anime characters, Eiri from Gravitation or Noctis from Final Fantasy.
“Not much more,” Jenna says, waggling her eyebrows comically. We burst into smothered giggles until our study hall teacher glares us into silence.
After school, we split up in the parking lot. Jenna is riding with Sawyer since his boards are already in his truck. Speio and I head to my Jeep. Lo’s driving himself in a tricked-out truck that looks more like beast than car. When I stare at it, he shrugs. “Gift from my mom. She overcompensates a lot.”
“So where are we going? Black’s?” I ask, pulling up alongside Sawyer. Black’s is a tricky break with perfect conditions because of an underwater canyon, though it’s usually crowded.
“No, too many nakes,” he says. I snort. He’s referring to the nudists. Black’s used to be known as a nude beach, and even though nudity is outlawed, put it this way...if you want your eyes to bleed, you go to Black’s.
“Aw, nudies need love, too,” I shoot back, grinning.
Since Speio and I have to swing past the house to pick up my board, we all decide to meet at Lower Trestles, which is about an hour’s drive north of where we are. It isn’t a gentle surf spot but I assured an overconfident Lo that he didn’t need to accommodate any groms. He grinned and told me that he hadn’t expected any less.
Once our boards are strapped up top, Speio and I don’t talk about anything other than classes and the weather...pretty much as mundane a conversation as you can get. Neither of us wants to acknowledge the giant gorilla in the backseat, which I’d inadvertently brought up at lunch.
Bonding.
But I can’t get it out of my head. I can’t stop wondering what it would feel like to let someone into you so much that you can think and feel as one. Even thinking about it is secretly thrilling.
It’s for life, Soren had explained to me once years ago during one of our training sessions that she still took very seriously. As much as Echlios was responsible for my physical development, Soren saw to my grooming and preparation as High Court heir.
“As a species, we don’t bond more than once,” she’d told me.
“How come?”
“Too painful. When you become a part of someone else, and they a part of you, bonding with another would be too complicated.”
“But what if one of us dies?”
“Then a part of you dies, too.”
It was as simple as that. The thought of it terrifies and excites me at the same time, and the older I get, the worse it becomes—the heavy sense of anticipation, knowing that a part of me is out there somewhere, waiting for me as much as I’m waiting for it.
With me, bonding would be so much more than it’d be for any other Aquarathi. If I had returned home, my Dvija would have been celebrated with all kinds of ceremony, because any partner of mine would become my royal companion. But since my father’s death, everything changed. There was nothing for me to return to—no crown, no ceremony and no family.
My mother died when I was very young, and for years it was just my dad and me. As a child, I’d been willful and stubborn to a fault, always getting into trouble and disappearing.
“There are better ways to get attention,” Soren had said to me after an ill-advised disappearing act during an important court banquet in Waterfell. “Like being a daughter and princess he can be proud of. You should have been there today. Your absence was noted by many.”
“I don’t want to be a princess,” I’d said sourly. “And I don’t care.”
“You can’t keep running from who you are, Nerissa. One day you will be queen.”
“I’d rather live in a cave full of vomit.”
Looking back, I was far more trouble than I was worth. Our people faulted him for being so indulgent and not taking a firmer hand with me, saying that if he couldn’t control his own child, how could he control his people? Put it this way—when I left, no one missed me. After all, as the humans say, no one mourns the wicked. Without my father, the thought of returning to Waterfell alone was—and still is—terrifying.
“What’s wrong?” Speio asks, sensing my change in mood.
“Nothing. I was just thinking about...my father,” I say after a few seconds. “At least you still have Echlios and Soren, even if we aren’t there. My father’s gone, and I’ll always be a constant disappointment to the Aquarathi.” Speio doesn’t answer right away, but I can see a sudden tightness at the corner of his mouth and in his fingers on the steering wheel. My voice fades to a whisper. “How can I face them? They only remember a silly child.”
“The people will give you a chance. You’re the heir,” he says. “Look, you’re almost seventeen. Dvija’s bound to happen soon. When you come of age to rule in a few months, everything will change.”
I glance at him. “Spey, does it hurt?”
“Does what hurt?”
“Transitioning. Dvija.”
“A little.” Speio’s voice grows as tight as his fingers. “It’s more like you feel everything, like everything is heightened, all emotions.” He shoots me a look. “Riss, you know all this, how we work, how all of that sense of awareness goes away once you—”
“—bond,” I finish, hesitating before I ask the real question. “But what if we never do? What happens then?”
“If we stay human,” he says quietly, “it hurts less.”
“Oh.” Which explains why Speio very rarely accompanies me on my occasional deep-sea jaunts when I transform into Aquarathi form for hours at a time. “One more question, and I’ll shut up, I promise.”
“You can ask me anything, Riss, you know that.”
“Can we bond with a human?”
I already know the answer, but I risk the sudden sharp look that Speio launches in my direction because I want to hear him say it. I need to hear him say it. I need to know that the butterfly sensation in my chest caused by this human boy means nothing.
“No,” he says, his green eyes searching. “But it doesn’t mean we can’t love them.”
“Did you ever? Love one of them?”
“No. It’s just not as real for me. No matter how much they love you, or you them, you will always want more. You will always search for the missing part of yourself.” He pauses. “And that can never be a human.”
We don’t speak again until we pull into the deserted stretch of gravelly road. The others are already there and getting changed. It’s a bit of a hike down to the beach so the plan is to gear up first and walk down. I pull my hair into a ponytail and shrug out of my jeans to pull on a shortie wet suit over my bikini—it may be spring, but the water is still chilly, and even though water temperature doesn’t affect me, I need to keep up appearances.
“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.