The Deep End of the Sea (32 page)

“I work hard because I love it here,” I assure him. “And you do pay me; what I get from these animals is priceless.”

He sighs and then laughs. “All right, Maddy. We’ll do it your way. But if you’re willing to pick up an extra shift a week, we could really use the help.”

“Of course.” I stand up and hug him. Frank is a good man—a good father whose heart of gold does so much for the animals in this shelter and the community at large. I make another note to have new office furniture sent in, too. “I’m off now, though. Granny wants us to go see that new movie—the one with the robots fighting aliens?”

His eyes brighten. “Saw that one with my son just a few nights ago. It’s good fun. Tell Bernie hi for me.”

“Will do.” On my way out, I wave goodbye to the other volunteers, all of whom I’m slowly letting into my life. We talk—not just about superficial things, but
talk
. And while I’m still overwhelmed in large crowds at times, I’ve definitely begun to get used to them, too. At times, it’s hard to believe that, a little over a year ago, I lived on a tiny island all by myself. Because now, here ... I am surrounded by life.

And it feels good.

“Ski season is coming,” Bernie tells me as we walk out of the theatre, bellies full of popcorn and senses fully blown into overload from exploding robots.

“You’ve said that to me at least once a day for the last two weeks.” I hook my arm through hers. “I think you must have been a ski bunny in the past. Be honest, Granny. Were you one of those girls on the slopes in a puffy sky blue jacket?”

“Hmph.”

I laugh and take the car keys from her. “If it will make you happy, we can go skiing. I’ll order us some season passes in the morning.”

She stops at the passenger side of the Range Rover and hits the car with her cane. “I do not want to go skiing, missy. I want to sit in the comfortable lodge and drink some spiked cocoa while taking in some eye candy of fit men on the slopes.”

I open her door for her, falling into giggles. “Well, by all means then. How can I deny you this? I will be more than happy to learn how to ski so you may have your share of eye candy.”

She grunts as I help her into the car. “You’ve got a mouth on you, missy.”

“You love me anyway.”

She looks up at me just as I begin to shut the door. “That I do, child. That I do.”

“Maddy.
Maddy
.”

I am not ready to wake up yet. I am currently on a balcony in Paris that oversees the Eiffel tower, and Hermes’ mouth is doing something very wicked but extremely welcome on the back of my neck.

“Maddy. MADELINE.”

I blink, jerking in my bed. Bernadette is standing in the darkness, the hall light filtering behind her. “You need to wake up. Jocko is downstairs; he needs to talk to you.”

A bleary glance at my clock reveals it’s four in the morning. “Can’t this wait a few hours?”

“No, child. Hurry and meet us there.” She leaves, but not before flicking on my overhead light. I dive right back under my covers, wondering how long it would take me to get back to Paris.

What can only be a cane thunders on a wall somewhere in the hallway. “MADELINE GREGORSON, YOU GET YOUR SCRAWNY BUTT DOWNSTAIRS IN THE NEXT FIVE MINUTES, DO YOU HEAR ME?”

Ugh. “Fine!” I throw the covers off and slide my feet into slippers. Then I grab my robe and trudge downstairs without bothering to comb my hair. I find Jocko and Bernie in the living room, both grave as they talk quietly to one another.

My heart leaps into my throat. “What ... has something happened? Did—they ruled, didn’t they? On the petition?”

When Bernie turns toward me, all I see is fear. And that right there scares the crap out of me. “Maddy—”

“I am still not at liberty to discuss the situation with you, Maddy,” Jocko says in that supremely flat voice of his. “However, I am under the opinion that we need to move you to a more secure location immediately.”

Everything in the room ceases moving. They have ruled. Poseidon won. He won, and Jocko is going to hide me somewhere even more isolating that Jackson.

I swallow slowly, looking around me. This is my house. My home. The home I share with Bernadette. The one near my dojo, the animal shelter I work at, and my support group. The one near the town I’ve grown to love.
I am losing my home
. “Where?”

“I am still working that out.” Jocko picks up the remote control for the flat screen hanging over the fireplace. “It will be somewhere inland, considering what’s going on right now.”

I stumble closer to where they’re standing. “What’s going on?”

He turns the television on and flips the channel until we hit a news outlet. To my horror, I watch as the newscaster talk about the unprecedented five storms barreling across three oceans on the globe toward terrified shores. Four of the storms have already hit hurricane strength winds. All five are expected to cause devastating damage. Governments are scrambling to respond, to get coastal areas ready for the storms’ furies. Residents are urged to flee.

I reach out and grab Bernie. Five storms—FIVE—across three oceans.

“Jocko—” I struggle to find the words to even convey the horror that’s seeping into my reality. “Is this—is he—?”

“As I rarely interact with
him
,” Jocko says calmly, “I cannot say for sure what set this off. But if I had to offer a guess, I would assume that this is a sign of rage.”

Rage, because the Assembly has ruled in his favor and he cannot find me? I stare at the television set in dismay. People are at risk. Not hundreds, not thousands, but
millions
of people are at risk from Poseidon’s wrath.

“You need to go pack a bag,” Bernie is saying. “Jocko must move you within the hour.” One of her hands grips my arm. “Maddy, do you hear me?”

I turn toward her slowly. “Are you coming with me?”

She’s silent. Jocko gives nothing away with his normal inscrutable expression.

So. Poseidon is threatening to kill countless mortals, wreak unimaginable havoc on the world’s shores, and I am to go in hiding once more without even Bernadette? I turn back toward the television set. The news anchor is saying simultaneous hurricanes and tropical storms in the Pacific are unheard of. There are two more in the Atlantic and a typhoon in the Indian. The only ocean saved from any kind of maelstrom is the Artic, but even those waters, the weather forecasters warn, are in the midst of wicked storms.

Nobody knows what to think. They’re blaming global warming, El Niño, La Niña—anything they can to explain the storms. Flights that crisscross the oceans have ceased. Cruises that had enough time to escape are docked; those who didn’t are the subject of intense search and rescues. Fishing boats are disappearing at alarming rates, and in this country alone, the Coast Guard and Navy are exhausted from their unending missions.

Every second I watch the news track these storms, I am filled with horror. People are dying. Sea life is dying.

Poseidon is pissed off and is not afraid to let the world know about it.

I pull in a deep breath. I let it go slowly. I breathe just the way June tells me that I should when it becomes too hard to put one foot in front of the other and move on.

And then I tell these people who I’ve come to love so very deeply over the last half year, “I’m not going anywhere. If Poseidon wants me, he can come and get me. But nobody is dying today; not for me, at least.”

And then I walk back up the stairs so I can change my clothes. Because when the Lord of the Seas comes to find me, it won’t be in my pajamas.

“ARE YOU INSANE?” Bernie is slamming her cane around as I lean closer to the bathroom mirror. “HAVE YOU NOT HEARD A WORD WE’VE SAID TO YOU ALL THIS TIME? WHY WOULD YOU SAY HIS NAME?”

I finish touching up my mascara and get to work on pulling my hair into a ponytail. “I heard you.” I offer her a wobbly smile. “In case you didn’t notice, I purposely chose to say it.”

“Why would you do that, Maddy?” I’ve never seen her so pissed. “You know he will be here at any moment!”

“Then it’s best to let me finish getting dressed.” I sidestep around her and slip on my boots. Jocko is in the doorway, saying nothing.

She hobbles after me. “I refuse to allow you to do this. You—you’re not thinking clearly!”

I shrug into a sweater. “It is your prerogative to think that.”

She whacks Jocko with her cane, but he still says nothing.

I scoot past him and head into the hallway. She follows behind, yelling at me, but my mind is made up. Nobody is dying today. These storms? I refuse to let me be the cost of any further deaths in this world. If I have to suffer so others can live, then so be it.

I won’t lie. I’m scared shitless. But luckily, I’m digging deep and finding that strength I’d been cultivating for months. And it’s a good thing, because when I jog down to the base of the stairs, the strong tang of saltwater hits me.

“Hello, pretty girl,” Poseidon says. “I’ve been looking for you.”

I’ll give it to him—he’s a looker. Black hair, now laced with sophisticated, textured silver threads, haphazardly falls his face in just the way that would drive most women crazy. A crisp white shirt, first few buttons undone, grazes over khaki linen shorts. His feet are bare and sandy, his skin bronzed, and he looks like any dream of a fantastic beach bum ought to.

I have never been so less attracted to a man in my entire life.

I pull air into my lungs and then slowly let it out. “Well,” I say, grateful my voice is steady, “looks like you found me.”

For once, the expression on his face is inscrutable. He motions to the nearby couch, as if I’d just entered his house and he was trying to make me feel welcome. I skirt around the opposite side and sit on the end, right on the edge, my back locked straight. He sighs heavily, sitting down in a nearby chair. “Medusa, don’t be like that. Please. Not after what I’ve gone through to finally find you.”

Fury curls my fingers into fists. He has the audacity to talk about what
he’s
been through? After everything he’s ever put me and my loved ones through?

“Madeline, we are going to talk about—” Bernadette bursts into the room and then promptly shuts up as she sees who’s sitting twenty feet away.