Bluedawn (A Watermagic Novel, #2) (6 page)

The obscurity took a moment before I really
felt the full effects of the complete blackness before my eyes. I
stopped, not sure where to step. My body tightened. I could hear
Dylan breathing lightly, but I couldn’t see him. My forehead beaded
up with perspiration.

“What if I’m the boogie man?” Dylan whispered
close enough to my ear that I could feel the heat of his
breath.

The fine hairs lifted on my arms and thighs.
I didn’t respond. He smelled so good.

Now with the blackness surrounding me, my
hearing became more enhanced. I noticed the sounds of the waves
rolling on the shore below the rocky decline. The insects’ buzz
became even louder. But nothing became as pronounced as the
electricity I felt between Dylan and me.

The warm sea breeze brushed my shoulder. And
even though Dylan wasn’t touching me, it was heart wrenchingly
obvious that he was beside me. A foreign tingling sensation danced
through my body.

“Come on,” he whispered, almost like he
empathized with the torture I was going through.

“I’m afraid to lose you, afraid to smack into
a tree.”

“You won’t. If it makes you feel better, take
my hand.”

“Okay,” I murmured shyly, hardly able to
believe that soon my skin would be pressed against his.

A moment later, I felt his warm hand in mine.
It was gentle and reassuring. This boy had some sort of power over
me that I had never experienced with any other person.

“So we’ll just take one step at a time. Keep
your other hand out and if you bump into anything we’ll change
course.” His musical voice was confident.

He led me onward like that for a while. I
liked the experience. My body trembled at the occasional sounds of
rustling in the trees overhead and the distant voices through the
forest, yet the adrenaline rush made me feel like I never wanted
the night to end.

Some of the campsites had lanterns like he
said and one was even well lit with a family playing a board game
at their picnic table. But really I could hardly pay attention to
anything else but Dylan and his gentle touch as we walked blindly
through the night.

“Where’s your campsite?” I asked, hoping he
couldn’t hear my heart pounding in my chest.

He cleared his throat. “We’re sort of set off
from the rest of the campers just below the drop by the tide
pools.”

“Really?” I was surprised. “Why would your
parents set up there?”

He repositioned his hand in mine. “My folks
aren’t here. I don’t live with them anymore and I certainly don’t
camp with them.”

“What?” My eyes widened in astonishment
though he couldn’t possibly see my expression in the darkness.

“I’m almost eighteen, so they kicked me out.”
To my disappointment, he let go of my hand.

“That’s horrible.” My heart tightened.

“Tell me about it,” he mumbled as he slid his
fingers through mine.

My cheeks became suddenly hot at his touch.
“Why did they do that?” I gulped.

“My mother’s husband doesn’t like me. He
wants my mother all to himself, I suppose. He’s such a…” I could
tell he was about to curse him.

“That’s not cool.” I felt an empty feeling in
my stomach.

“Some people might think it is.” His tone
seemed slightly facetious.

“Why would some people think it is okay for a
mother to kick out her child to make her husband happy? That’s not
acceptable to me.”

“They said they would give me a hundred bucks
a month for the first year.” His voice was steady. “Then I’m on my
own. A lot of people think that’s generous, but for me all I really
wanted was for them to want me.”

My heart sank at that. “That’s terrible. To
me, your mother and step father sound like jerks. A hundred dollars
isn’t enough money to live on. That doesn’t even cover the cost of
food, let alone an apartment, supplies, or clothes…”

His voice became gruff. “They live in a big
mansion and party all the time with their friends. They never
wanted a kid.” There was an underlying intensity to his expression.
I sensed that he was experiencing a lot of inner turmoil.

I just wanted to pull him into my arms and
comfort him when he said that. I couldn’t imagine if my parents
didn’t want me. They were everything to me. They were my life
breath. “What about your birth father? Are you in touch with
him?”

He sighed. “When I was fourteen, my mother
and step father kicked me out the first time…” His voice was solid,
but I sensed it was difficult for him to maintain control.

“They kicked you out before?”

“Yeah, when I was a kid.” His admittance
seemed cold and indifferent. “I don’t usually tell people
this.”

“Why did they kick you out that time?” I
tried to contain the emotions I was feeling.

He paused for a moment. I got the feeling a
violent rage was brewing inside his perfect body. “My mother said
it was because she had a nervous breakdown. I really never
understood it. But that time when they booted me out of their
palace, I didn’t have anywhere to go. They didn’t pay for anything
that time.”

A sickened feeling came over me. “What did
you do?” My throat tightened.

“For a while, I lived at different friends’
houses, but when there was threat of being sent to foster care, I
sought out my real father.” He scoffed.

I was curious about that. “Did he let you
move in with him?”

He paused like he was remembering. “Yes, he
did.”

“What happened with that?”

“He was an alcoholic and kept beating me up.”
He chuckled. “But when my mother found out that he was housing me,
she got jealous. She was angry that my dad took me in. It wasn’t
that she was upset about him knocking me around. She just didn’t
want him to have me, so she took me back. Though, she didn’t really
want me obviously. She just yearned to stick it to him. You know,
really show him who was in control.” I sensed his resentment.

“That sucks.” I was surprised how upset I
felt—a part of me wanted to hurt them for what they had done. It
was foreign to me how connected I felt to him already.

“No big deal. Everybody’s got their story,
right?”

“I don’t know.” My voice lifted.

“What’s yours?”

I heard the wolf bark. “My what?” I was still
thinking about his life.

“Your story?”

The gruff man was in his camper now. Inside
lights illuminated the campsite, so I could see Spike tied to the
tree. “Hold on a sec.”

We stopped as I pulled the slab of meat out
of my purse and tossed it over to my new friend. The furry guy
gulped up the piece in no time.

Dylan laughed. “Making friends with the
wildlife?”

“Yeah, I guess so.” My cheeks reddened as we
proceeded onward. “So my story is nothing too dramatic,” I said,
clearing my throat. “My parents are really cool. We love each
other. I’m on the swim team at my high school in Laguna Beach.”

“Are you a good swimmer?” He sounded
genuinely interested.

“I swim pretty fast, but it’s hard for me to
follow rules. I usually lose the meets for cheating.”

He laughed out loud. “What?” His voice was
perplexed like I had thrown him off guard.

“I just usually get too anxious and start
swimming before they blow the whistle. And sometimes when an
opponent harasses me before a meet, I get livid and swim into her
lane during the race to cut her off.”

He laughed again. “You are something. I would
have never expected that from you.”

“My mom is upset about it too. But my dad
thinks it’s funny just like you do.”

He was still chuckling when he stopped
walking. I felt a strong breeze on my face and in my hair coming
off the ocean. My toes curled in my sandals as I sensed we were at
the edge of the rocky hill. I inhaled suddenly.

“Our camp is down there,” he said. “You
should probably turn on your flashlight for this part.”

I exhaled. But then, he let go of my hand and
the blood rushed out of my head.

CHAPTER SIX

Better to flee from death
than feel its grip.
–Homer, 
The Iliad

“Do you climb down these rocks in the dark?”
I asked as I pressed the button on my flashlight. The side of the
craggy hill lit up.

“I do.” His musical voice was tinged with
mischief. “Makes the game all the more fun.”

I shook my head in feigned bewilderment. “Is
that your campsite?” I shined the flashlight at a makeshift cabana
at the bottom of the hill.

“Yup.” He had a contemptuous smile on his
stunning face. “Home sweet home.”

I laughed. “That’s original.”

“Damn right.” He looked at me. And I wasn’t
sure, but it appeared as if he winked. “Ladies first.” He held out
his hand, motioning me downward. His expression was polite, but his
eyes were sardonic.

“Since you’re so talented, why don’t you hold
the flashlight?”

He raised a dark eyebrow. “Good idea.” He
took the apparatus from me and I made my way down slowly, holding
carefully to each jagged rock, while I placed my sandaled feet one
step at a time. Several instances I almost lost my grip and nearly
rolled down the hill, but he caught me by the arm, helping me to
steady myself before proceeding.

“That wasn’t too difficult,” I said once we
reached the bottom.

“Piece of cake.” His lips lifted into a
crooked grin like he was tickled with my clumsiness.

When he looked at me like that I grew faint
all over again and I was standing on a level surface now.

He lit torches on the outside which created a
tempting atmosphere, something other than Dylan to distract me from
my inebriated state. I liked the luxurious look of white fabric
draped across the top and over the four sides of tied bamboo that
supported the open structure.

“Did you make this yourself?” I asked.

“Yeah, along with my friends.” His expression
was blank as he lifted the curtain for me to enter.

The entire floor was covered in soft feathers
sewn together like a comfortable, billowy rug with thin, flexible
earthen materials. He lit a lantern on a makeshift table that sat
only a couple feet above the ground. It brought a nice glow to the
neatly arranged chessboard that sat beside it.

I could picture Dylan and his friends playing
games and eating at the table while relaxing on the soft feathers.
Off to the side of the cabana was a spilt bag of jewels, shells,
and gold trinkets of mythological creatures of the ocean—mermaids,
sea monsters, selkies, and sirens.

“This is intense.” I held up a tiny golden
medallion of a mermaid with a ring around it. It was a profile view
and was attached to the ring by a sapphire dagger which was in the
mermaid’s hand.

“It’s yours,” he said, his expression was
unreadable.

“You’re giving this to me?” I asked with
surprise.

“Yeah.”

“I can’t take this. It looks expensive.”

“It reminds me of you—the sassy swimmer.” He
raised an eyebrow.

I smiled, embarrassed. I couldn’t help but
remember how Dad called Mom sassy too.

“I found that in the ocean…”

“Really?” I interrupted.

“If you don’t take it, I’ll throw it back,”
he snickered.

My cheeks grew hot again. “Thank you.” I
grasped the shiny treasure in my hand.

His green eyes sparkled in the lantern light
as he looked at me. “I’m interested in the legends of the sea.
Locals say they’ve seen some of these creatures in the coves and
not too far out into the ocean. There are a few small craggy rock
islands just yonder. One guy told me he saw mermaids sunbathing on
the obsidian rocks. And some people swear the islands aren’t
islands at all, but actually Zartans…”

“What are Zartans?” I asked as I looked more
closely at one of the silver sea creatures.

“Giant sea turtles that sleep for many years
and are mistaken for floating islands.”

“Oh my! Has anyone surfaced one?” I looked at
him with wonder in my eyes.

“I don’t really believe it’s true, but some
sailors who come into the docks say they’ve walked them.
Supposedly, they are very far out. Sometimes they wake up and
swallow up the people who dock their ships at them.” He walked over
to his bag and pulled out a t-shirt and a pair of shorts.

“Darn.”

“What?” he asked as he pulled the shirt over
his head.

“I wanted to see the reaction of the people
at the party when you showed up in your underwear.”

He half-smiled, a spark of mystery in his
eyes. “They’re bored of my nudity already.”

My jaw dropped slightly, wondering if he ran
around naked all the time.

“Not really.” He pulled on his shorts. “You
ready for the beach.”

“Sure.” I ran my fingers through my hair,
trying to straighten out the windblown tangles. Looking at Dylan, I
couldn’t help but feel inadequate.

I picked up a book on the edge of the table.
It was the
Odyssey
. “Have you read this?”

He took the novel into his hands and flipped
through the pages. “I’m reading it right now. Some of the local
fishermen recommended I read it.”

I scrunched my eyes together slightly. “Since
when are fishermen into classic literature?”

He snickered lightly. “They’re obsessed with
some of the bizarre sightings lately. Funny enough, they seem to be
into in all this Greek mythology and because I’m their friend and
enjoy reading and that kind of thing, they asked me to look over
the book. They’re a little crazy.”

“How funny—a band of insane fisherman.”

That made him laugh.

“Do you like the story?”

“Yeah.” His eyes widened. “Pretty exciting
stuff actually.” He ran his fingers through his hair.

“We read both the
Illiad
and the
Odyssey
in English class, but I just rushed through them.
Maybe I should give the books another try.