Waterborn (The Emerald Series Book 1) (15 page)

BOOK: Waterborn (The Emerald Series Book 1)
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“Did Maggie call you?”

“She’s worried about you, Noah. You know she loves you.”

“What did she tell you?”

“Not much. But Rena was my friend. If this has to do with Caris you can talk to me.”

Not this. Not now while my body was so wrecked. I thought it would steal the hurt from the inside if I hurt on the outside. I ducked my head between my arms and held my breath, but it didn’t stop the shame burning in my gut. It burned right along with the bruises. And still the words “I’m sorry” wouldn’t come. They came easily enough when it didn’t matter, like for the broken door. But I owed her for more than that. I owed her more than I could admit.

“Why do you think Athen Kelley did what he did?” Maybe that first time I had seen Caris I could have done something to hurt her. If she had pulled a gun on me, or if she had been a dude. Or if she’d been one of those sirens with the long claw-like fingernails and jagged flesh-ripping teeth. All I had been able to muster was a spiteful kiss and a few crabs, for which I was now sorry. The thought of hurting her like Athen Kelley had hurt her mom left a sickness in my stomach. I mean, I hated her Song, found it emasculating, but to hurt her on purpose?

“Athen was older than Rena, almost twenty-five, handsome, powerful. Already used to getting what he wanted, and he wanted Rena. But she was young, too young for the life he wanted for her. His family had acquired a degree of wealth none of us had before. He had a vision for the tribes, of uniting us, making an official declaration. And he has unusual power.”

His power to control the skies, pull lightning from the very air. He had almost destroyed our home once, wiped the beach away in one of his rages. That’s what I’d heard at least.

“There was talk of schools, hospitals. But then the epidemic hit and both his parents died. In his grief he fell into a dark place. And by that point Rena had rejected him. She wanted a simple, carefree life. She wanted a regular life. A more human life with Patrick.”

“Do you think her Song really drove him crazy?” It was an uncomfortable thought, that I might be making excuses for what Caris’s father had done. But I knew what it was like, the constant intrusions, sharing your mind with someone else. I could see this as a curse for a different kind of person. Obviously for Athen Kelley it had been.

“What Athen did to Rena was inexcusable. Any hope of him leading the tribes died with his actions. It revealed what was truly in his heart, and if there was any good to come of her gift, it was to save us from putting our trust in such a man whose heart was already poisoned by greed and power. We were all ready to follow him. Your father and I included.”

I could think of another good thing to have come from Rena’s gift and that was Caris herself. She was like the pearls I harvested. A treasure formed in the midst of so much ugliness.

My mom hugged her knees close to her chest, her expression speaking of another time and place. The epidemic had taken its toll on our numbers, mostly the oldest among us. My mom, at forty-three, was considered old, even though she could pass for my sister. And she was one of only a handful of over forty, Athen being another. Life expectancy for our kind was shorter than regular humans and getting shorter. We’d domesticated ourselves to the brink of extinction. And with the encroachment of more development, more high-rises, more houses, more tourists, our habitat kept diminishing. Sol was right about that. As a species we weren’t adapting very well. Unfortunately Caris’s mom dying of an infection was an all too common occurrence.

“Why haven’t you ever told us any of this before?”

“It was a dark time, a time better forgotten. And we were sworn to secrecy after Rena gave birth. Not even Patrick knows the full extent of what was sacrificed.”

A thin cloud drifted over the moon, casting an eerie half-light over the beach. Not half a mile away a different kind of light shone in the dark—lights from the windows of the ever-expanding developments.

“Do you think it was necessary to hide her?” It seemed such an extreme action to take, no matter the circumstances. One she was going to suffer for.

“I don’t know. All I do know is Rena was convinced it had to be done. Athen was out of control. His power had consumed him.

I had missed this, talking to my mom. Growing up, whenever we had problems, Jamie had always gone to my dad first. They had always understood one another without having to say much of anything. It was always Mom for me. One of the things I’d admired so much about my dad was the way he had loved my mom.

“She sings to me,” I said into the growing quiet.

“I thought as much.” Her words settled between us. “Patrick filled me in on what happened. How is she?”

“Confused. Angry. Scared. But she was all those things before she knew. He should have told her sooner.”

“Maybe, but it’s done now.” She stood up and held her hand down to me.

“She’s lucky to have you as a friend.” Her hand was warm, her grip hard. She pulled me up like a bag of bones. “How does getting yourself beat up help her?”

“God, I don’t know, but I hurt.” I had gotten stiff sitting for so long, my legs creaking like an old man.

“Go.” She pushed me in the direction of the water. “I’ll have you something to eat when you get back.”

“This could take a while,” I warned, my movements stiff and robotic.

I sank into the oblivion of the Deep and let her work her magic.

I
stood
underneath Caris’s balcony, considering whether or not I could scale the side of her house with a bag in my hand. Ordinarily, I would say yes, but I was pretty sure I had suffered a concussion, and though the Deep had healed all the superficial wounds, my insides still felt like they’d been pummeled with a blunt object. I swear Levi had bowling balls for fists. One of my ears wouldn’t quit ringing.

I’d spent most of the morning hours and half of the afternoon in the Deep, until I was sure all the cuts and bruises had healed. I had been as good as new, at least on the outside, when I’d gotten back to the house where I’d dug into a plate of red snapper my mom had crusted in some kind of nut mixture and topped with chunks of crabmeat. And she’d made more brownies. I’d eaten every one.

I stuck the bag between my teeth and leaped for the railing. I only managed to catch the bottom rung, and when my arms took my bodyweight, a sharp stab of pain shot up my left side. I hung there for a few seconds, hissing a breath around the bag in my mouth. I should have just knocked on the front door but that would have broken the pattern I’d established of making things as hard on myself as possible, and I wanted to avoid Mr. Harper. I had even parked down the street so he wouldn’t see Betty.

“Noah?” Caris’s voice floated above my head. “What are you doing?”

I craned my neck, teeth clenched on the bag. The smell of beef from inside the bag was getting to me. Most of us, for whatever reason, had a huge aversion to beef—the smell, the texture. It was like eating dirt.

One hand at a time, I scaled my way up the rungs on the wrought iron rail. They dug into my hands and by the time I reached the top and flung my legs over, I was breathing heavy. I landed with a jarring grunt, slow to stand all the way up. When I did, I took the bag out of my mouth and looked down to the ground thirty feet below. “That was harder than it should have been.”

“Yeah, Noah, there’s this thing called a front door.”

“I know. And they’re kind of like shoes and cars. I only use them when I have to.” I held out the bag to her.

She snatched it out of my hand and peeled it open, peeking inside. I’d never seen a girl get so excited about food before.

“You brought me a cheeseburger?” Adoration brightened her expression, as though I had brought her a bag of diamonds.

She had a towel wrapped around her head and wore the t-shirt I had given her. I had already taken notice of the bright pink leopard-print panties she wore underneath. I had on more clothes than she did. Her skin was flushed and slightly damp. She smelled like mint. Her silver-gray eyes flashed at me when she looked up from the bag. Dread passed over her face.

“Why are you here?” She cast a quick glance back in her room at her bathroom door. She’d been singing in the shower. I had heard it, but it didn’t matter. I would have come anyway.

“I’m here of my own free will,” I assured her. “If it makes you feel any better, I don’t think it works that way. Most of the time when I hear you, it’s more of a mood thing. That day I found you in the water, when you called me on the beach, those times were different. The sound was more magnetic, purposeful. If that makes sense.” Which was only half the truth. That night on the beach, after she’d known what she was and was testing out her newly discovered power, her Song had been a demand. I’d felt the perverse thrill she’d gotten from calling me. She’d liked it. And I had liked that she did.

I followed her inside her room.

“It does actually.” She set the bag on her desk next to a record player.

The vinyl on the turntable was one by Tegan and Sara. I didn’t know who that was, but I wanted to turn it on to see what kind of music she listened to. I flipped the switch when she went into the bathroom and set the needle in place. It was mostly acoustic, two-girl harmony. Nice.

“Noah?”

I lifted my head at the sound of her voice. She had combed her hair out and leaned in the doorway of her bathroom. “Can you read my mind?”

“No.” And I couldn’t. It just felt like it sometimes. “Just moods. Like this song. I don’t know what this girl is saying, but she sounds hurt, broken hearted. I’m guessing it’s a break-up song.”

She nodded and looked down at her feet. “I guess that should make it better, but I don’t like it, Noah. I don’t like you in my head.”

“Can’t say that I’m a big fan of it either.” I stepped back in response to the caged look in her eyes, offering her more space. “You better eat your cheeseburger while you can.”

“What do you mean?” She opened the bag and spread the burger and fries on one of the napkins.

“Let’s just say burgers aren’t one of our favorites.” I sat on the bed, edging myself back against one of the pillows. Her laptop sat on her bed. Surprised by what was on the screen, I pulled it onto my lap.

“You Googled mermaids?” I stared at an alarmingly graphic and somewhat humorous sketch of the anatomy of a mermaid.

“Of course I Googled mermaids. I Google everything,” she said, hiding her discomfiture behind a huge bite of cheeseburger. Her cheeks flamed with embarrassment. I was a little warm myself. She looked really good.

“Who said anything about mermaids?” I turned my attention back to the screen and read the text. “Tiny hairs on the legs and tails? That’s bullshit.” My eyes traveled up the length of her legs. I had seen her in her bathing suit, but Caris fresh from the shower wearing only a t-shirt—my t-shirt—and panties was almost more than I could stand. Maybe coming here hadn’t been such a good idea. It took a herculean effort, but I finally pulled my eyes away.

“Mermaids,” I paused long enough to clear the lump in my throat. “Contrary to popular myth, mermaids have smaller breasts affording them better aerodynamics,” I read in an incredulous tone before cutting my eyes to Caris and her rather modest B-cup chest. A smile crooked my lips. “Well, the author got that part right at least.” She didn’t need to know I thought she had perfect breasts along with perfect everything else.

All that perfection walked across the floor. The laptop snapped shut, nearly taking off one of my fingers. She snatched it from under my nose and hugged it to her chest. Her bright eyes focused as she scanned me from head to foot as though she were looking for something.

She put her laptop on the desk and inched away from the bed, keeping her eyes on me. The big toe of her right foot rooted over the floor, catching on a pair of cut-off denim shorts. I hadn’t pegged her for the messy type. A weeks worth of shirts and shorts littered the hardwood floor. The typical array of sandals and tennis shoes scattered over a bamboo area rug. Her bed wasn’t really made so much as she’d thrown the comforter over it with the sheets hanging out. She crammed the last bit of cheeseburger in her mouth, then very slyly stepped into the shorts and slipped them up her legs and over her hips. My mouth went dry as I watched her button up the fly, the whole thing so unexpectedly sexy.

When I could trust my voice not to sound like a quivering adolescent I said, “I’m offering my services.”

Her eyes rounded at my poor choice of words. Heat simmered up my neck. Real smooth. Now I was the one blushing.

“Pretend I’m Google. Ask away.”

I liked the way her room felt—cozy, with the breeze floating through the doors, the echo of waves rolling over and over. The walls were painted a soothing green, like being surrounded by the Deep.

“What?”

“Ask me anything.” I knew she had questions. So many things I took for granted and here she was, days old as far as her breather nature was concerned. Add to that her “gift,” as Maggie wanted to call it, and it was no wonder she looked so unsure of herself. She was putting on a brave front though, squaring her shoulders, studying me with undisguised interest.

Instead of asking a question, she reached over and grabbed my wrist. Her hand was too small to circle it with her fingers so she had to use both of them to lift my arm. I thought she was checking for underarm hair. Her brows crunched in apparent concentration as if working something out in her mind.

“Other than the hair on our head, no body hair.” And when she raised her eyebrows at me, I added, “None.”

This seemed to surprise her, and I had to chase my own speculative thoughts away. No, I had to beat them back with a mental club. She opened her mouth as if to say something, then seemed to think better of it, thank God. I couldn’t go there right then. I might have combusted right there on her bed.

“Tails,” she said with a hint of dread in her voice. “Do any of you, uhh us, have actual tails?”

I probably took too long to answer because she got a panicked look in her eyes. It was obvious she was uncomfortable with the idea, not that I could blame her. I had always found the idea of mermaids distasteful. I knew firsthand how fish lived, and I was certain I didn’t want to be one of them, not even half of one.

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