“Tate!”
The sound of his name breaks whatever spell he’s under. He blinks and looks at his friend.
Troy looks from him to me, a perplexed expression on his face. He flicks a hand in the air, impatiently. “Are we going or what, man?”
It’s enough. For me. The only reminder needed.
I bolt into the trees, barely bending to grab my clothes as I pass.
3
The screen door slams behind me as I return home. I kick off my shoes and flex my feet on the bare wood floorboards. The place is unremitting wood, from ceiling to floor to walls. Even the furniture is an assortment of cedar and oak pieces, the only color to be found in the splash of throws tossed over the couch and love seat, and in the bright red rug stretched out before the fireplace. Dad occupies the love seat, books cluttering the floor at his feet.
“Az! That you?” my mom calls.
I bite back the less-than-kind retort: Who else are you expecting?
She asked a fair question, and I’m just being a brat. We’re not tucked high in the mountains of our pride. We’re in the human world where dangerous things can happen. Mom hasn’t forgotten that. She never does. I need to remember that as well.
“It’s me.”
She walks out of the living room set off the small entrance hall, a magazine in her hand. When she sees me her expression tightens.
I hold still at the foot of the stairs, feeling her gaze as it crawls over my still-wet hair tight in its ponytail. I resist touching it, as though that would be an admission of guilt.
“You swam.” Not a question.
I nod. The truth. Not guilt.
She sighs and looks back into the living room, where Dad sits buried in his books.
I start up the stairs.
She calls after me. “I thought you were only going to swim when we’re with you.” Like I need a babysitter. Like I can’t be trusted. “Someone could have seen you!”
“Then they would have just seen a girl swimming,” I say over my shoulder. “It’s not like I did anything, Mom.”
Of course I know the risk I took today, but I’m not about to share that and worry her. It’s over and done.
They saw me—he saw me. But he didn’t see me. Not the real me.
“Az.”
At the sound of my name, I stop at the top of the stairs and look down at her.
Her rounded shoulders slump as her serious eyes drill into me. “Do we need to leave?”
She’s asking me? She’s asking me if we should cut our vacation short? This trip is all she’s talked about us doing for years. Just the three of us. A summer away. Maybe our last one before I take my tour. She searched online for the perfect setup, found this lake house, and reserved it for one month.
“No, Mom,” I murmur, feeling unaccountably tired. “We don’t have to leave.”
Turning, I move into my room and drop onto the bed with a heavy sigh.
As I close my eyes, I see him. He’s waiting there. In my head. My memory. A boy with water on his skin and intense eyes that drag over me.
I find my way back to the pond the next day.
To be honest, I knew I’d return there the moment I woke up, the events of yesterday flooding my memory in a rush as I rubbed my eyes awake. The boy—Tate. The girl, Anna, who nearly drowned. Yes, and Tate.
This time I’m up before Mom, so slipping out the front door is a relatively easy matter.
Dawn tinges the sky as I follow the same path from yesterday, passing the lake. Only a few boats dot the surface this early in the morning.
I walk at a leisurely pace through the woods, listening to the birds chattering to each other in the trees. Pausing, I slip off my sandals so that I can continue barefoot. Curling my fingers around the straps, I enjoy the feel of the earth under the soles of my feet. I tilt my head back, and gaze up at the canopy of branches and leaves swaying in the soft wind. I can almost envision myself up there. My wings carrying me, my body weightless on the air.
The brief thought enters my head that I could manifest here. Away from prying eyes. Crazy, of course. As quickly as I think it, I shove the idea aside, almost scared that I even thought it for a moment. I increase my strides. Yesterday, under cover of water, was one thing. Doing such a thing here, in the light of day.... I couldn’t be that foolish. Draki that foolish end up lost. Dead. Or worse. And I know that there are worse fates than death for a draki. With hunters out there, of course there are.
At the tree line, I slow down and peer out at the clearing, not really expecting anyone this early but knowing after yesterday that my little pond isn’t quite the secluded haven I first thought it to be.
And I’m glad I take the time to check, because someone else is here.
I jerk back and tuck myself behind a tree, pressing a hand to my pounding heart. I don’t know why. Instinct, I guess. Although I look like a normal girl. I shouldn’t be afraid of being seen.
But it’s him. Tate. A human boy who has me reconsidering the human species … even if he does have a girlfriend. His body looks every bit as powerful and strong as Cassian’s, the prince of our pride. Which is saying a lot. I’ve been infatuated with Cassian just like most of the girls back home. Only I never showed it. What would be the point when he’s not interested in me? When he’s in love with my best friend? I’m not going to be that pathetic girl.
But this boy isn’t Cassian. Then again, he’s just as off limits.
Still … a small thrill races down my spine to be this close, in proximity with a boy who I don’t have to share with anyone else back home. He’s my little secret.
He’s not my anything. We haven’t met. Haven’t spoken. He doesn’t even know my name. Precisely the way it should be. I don’t have any business trying to hurdle the gap between stranger and … well, anything else.
It’s a sobering thought. Still, I don’t head for home. I can’t make myself do that. Not yet. Heart hammering in my too-tight chest, I peek around the tree for another look, my skin snapping taut, swimming with sensation. I don’t even blink. Just … strain for the sight of him.
The same Jeep as yesterday with the row bar and lights on top sits parked there. He’s sitting on the shore, staring out at the water, his arms propped on his knees. I glance around, confirming that he’s alone.
A myriad of questions wash through me. What’s he doing out here alone? Where are his friends? Did something happen to Anna? Is she not okay after all?
I can only see his profile, but I study the chiseled features, the hard press of his lips. I follow his gaze to the water as though I can see whatever it is he’s thinking about there.
My entire body leans forward as I try to get a better look, a better understanding of why his dark eyebrows draw low over his eyes in such an intent way. Like he’s concentrating. Or sad. Or … something. I don’t know. And not knowing kills me. I move forward another half step.
Snap.
I duck back behind the tree as his head swivels in my direction. My fingers dig into the rough bark, clinging like it’s my lifeline.
“Hello?”
His deep voice ribbons through the air, sliding over me like a warm current of water. I hold still, the pulse thumping hard in my neck as I debate my next move, wondering if he actually saw me, if he’s coming closer.
“Who’s there?” His voice rings out. Yes. He’s closer.
Swallowing hard, I push off the tree, diving into the foliage. Even as I flee, I know it’s irrational. I should just step out into the open. Act normal. Flirt with him like any human girl would do.
I blame it on draki instinct. It has me running. But I can’t suddenly turn around and act as though I wasn’t just running from him like some sort of desperate criminal.
“Hey!” I hear him call after me, his feet hitting the ground with solid whacks. “Wait!”
I keep running, arms pumping, dodging trees, ducking branches. A quick glimpse behind me shows he’s right there. So close I imagine that I can feel his breath on my hair.
And then my foot catches something and I’m falling. I hit the ground, my palms taking the brunt of the fall. Palms scraped and stinging, I roll onto my back, looking up at him looming over me, legs braced wide. He’s not even out of breath. And I thought I was in shape. Maybe I need to adopt whatever exercise regime he uses.
Presented with the reality of him this close, I can hardly bring myself to meet his gaze. Looking away, I actually feel myself cringing.
“Easy. I won’t hurt you.” He holds his hands apart, bouncing them in the air like he’s trying to calm a wild beast. Me. I swallow, not liking the comparison even if it does fit to some extent. No, I need to act like a normal girl. Not prey.
Determined to do that very thing, I rise to my feet and dust leaves and dirt off me, cringing at the way my fingers tremble. I hope he doesn’t notice.
“Why were you chasing me?”
He lowers his hands. “Why were you running?”
I lift my chin and shrug, pretending not to notice the way his eyes move over me, missing nothing.
He takes his time studying my hair. The dark, blue-streaked mass falls sleekly, stopping just above my waist. I toss it back over my shoulders, trying to break his focus.
He blinks and snaps his gaze back to my face. “You’re the girl from yesterday.”
I give a small nod.
“You saved my sister.”
Something swells to life inside me at this. Anna is his sister.
It shouldn’t matter. Shouldn’t make my pulse quicken. It’s not as though this makes him suddenly available.
It shouldn’t matter, but it does.
“Thank you.”
I shrug again, my face heating with embarrassment at the way his dark brown eyes go all soft and tender. I know it’s just appreciation, gratitude, but I bask in it. It’s so unfamiliar for a boy to look at me with such intensity.
Back home I’m just plain Az. Well liked, yes. But I’ve known every boy in the pride since birth. I’m one of a dozen water draki. Not the most common talent, but not rare either. Not like Jacinda.
I can’t remember standing in front of anyone and feeling so vulnerable, stripped bare with a look. It’s a dangerous feeling. Especially with someone I’m supposed to keep at arm’s length.
I spin on my heels. “I have to go.”
“Wait! Please!”
I hesitate at the please, grabbing on to a tree like I need it to keep me upright.
Harsh air slips past my lips as I wait, listen, looking ahead blindly.
“There’s a party tonight. Back here. At the pond.” His voice strokes me like velvet, and my skin responds, contracting, quivering, pulling tight like I just dove into frigid waters, eager to fade into my draki skin. God. I close a hand over my forearm, squeeze tightly, punishing myself. Not now. Definitely not now.
“You’re welcome to come.” Pause. “I’d like you to come.”
I turn my face, but don’t look back. Not at that face. That body. His voice is more than enough. Too much. The familiar draki pull is there, tugging at my chest, willing me over the precipice. A purr rumbles through me and it startles me. The only other times I’ve manifested unwillingly were from fear. This time I’m not afraid, and yet the urge to manifest is overwhelming. I’ve heard the whispers but never experienced it myself. I know that desire can make the draki surface, draw it from where it lurks deep inside. It’s another fierce emotion, just like fear. If I had any doubt before, I don’t anymore. This boy isn’t safe. Just look at me. I’m too volatile around him.
“Will you come?” he asks.
That nervous little crack in his voice almost undoes me. Almost.
“I don’t think so....” Pulling myself together, I start walking again, pushing ahead with swift strides, telling myself that this is the last time I’ll ever return to this pond. The last time I’ll ever see him.
The sound of his name breaks whatever spell he’s under. He blinks and looks at his friend.
Troy looks from him to me, a perplexed expression on his face. He flicks a hand in the air, impatiently. “Are we going or what, man?”
It’s enough. For me. The only reminder needed.
I bolt into the trees, barely bending to grab my clothes as I pass.
3
The screen door slams behind me as I return home. I kick off my shoes and flex my feet on the bare wood floorboards. The place is unremitting wood, from ceiling to floor to walls. Even the furniture is an assortment of cedar and oak pieces, the only color to be found in the splash of throws tossed over the couch and love seat, and in the bright red rug stretched out before the fireplace. Dad occupies the love seat, books cluttering the floor at his feet.
“Az! That you?” my mom calls.
I bite back the less-than-kind retort: Who else are you expecting?
She asked a fair question, and I’m just being a brat. We’re not tucked high in the mountains of our pride. We’re in the human world where dangerous things can happen. Mom hasn’t forgotten that. She never does. I need to remember that as well.
“It’s me.”
She walks out of the living room set off the small entrance hall, a magazine in her hand. When she sees me her expression tightens.
I hold still at the foot of the stairs, feeling her gaze as it crawls over my still-wet hair tight in its ponytail. I resist touching it, as though that would be an admission of guilt.
“You swam.” Not a question.
I nod. The truth. Not guilt.
She sighs and looks back into the living room, where Dad sits buried in his books.
I start up the stairs.
She calls after me. “I thought you were only going to swim when we’re with you.” Like I need a babysitter. Like I can’t be trusted. “Someone could have seen you!”
“Then they would have just seen a girl swimming,” I say over my shoulder. “It’s not like I did anything, Mom.”
Of course I know the risk I took today, but I’m not about to share that and worry her. It’s over and done.
They saw me—he saw me. But he didn’t see me. Not the real me.
“Az.”
At the sound of my name, I stop at the top of the stairs and look down at her.
Her rounded shoulders slump as her serious eyes drill into me. “Do we need to leave?”
She’s asking me? She’s asking me if we should cut our vacation short? This trip is all she’s talked about us doing for years. Just the three of us. A summer away. Maybe our last one before I take my tour. She searched online for the perfect setup, found this lake house, and reserved it for one month.
“No, Mom,” I murmur, feeling unaccountably tired. “We don’t have to leave.”
Turning, I move into my room and drop onto the bed with a heavy sigh.
As I close my eyes, I see him. He’s waiting there. In my head. My memory. A boy with water on his skin and intense eyes that drag over me.
I find my way back to the pond the next day.
To be honest, I knew I’d return there the moment I woke up, the events of yesterday flooding my memory in a rush as I rubbed my eyes awake. The boy—Tate. The girl, Anna, who nearly drowned. Yes, and Tate.
This time I’m up before Mom, so slipping out the front door is a relatively easy matter.
Dawn tinges the sky as I follow the same path from yesterday, passing the lake. Only a few boats dot the surface this early in the morning.
I walk at a leisurely pace through the woods, listening to the birds chattering to each other in the trees. Pausing, I slip off my sandals so that I can continue barefoot. Curling my fingers around the straps, I enjoy the feel of the earth under the soles of my feet. I tilt my head back, and gaze up at the canopy of branches and leaves swaying in the soft wind. I can almost envision myself up there. My wings carrying me, my body weightless on the air.
The brief thought enters my head that I could manifest here. Away from prying eyes. Crazy, of course. As quickly as I think it, I shove the idea aside, almost scared that I even thought it for a moment. I increase my strides. Yesterday, under cover of water, was one thing. Doing such a thing here, in the light of day.... I couldn’t be that foolish. Draki that foolish end up lost. Dead. Or worse. And I know that there are worse fates than death for a draki. With hunters out there, of course there are.
At the tree line, I slow down and peer out at the clearing, not really expecting anyone this early but knowing after yesterday that my little pond isn’t quite the secluded haven I first thought it to be.
And I’m glad I take the time to check, because someone else is here.
I jerk back and tuck myself behind a tree, pressing a hand to my pounding heart. I don’t know why. Instinct, I guess. Although I look like a normal girl. I shouldn’t be afraid of being seen.
But it’s him. Tate. A human boy who has me reconsidering the human species … even if he does have a girlfriend. His body looks every bit as powerful and strong as Cassian’s, the prince of our pride. Which is saying a lot. I’ve been infatuated with Cassian just like most of the girls back home. Only I never showed it. What would be the point when he’s not interested in me? When he’s in love with my best friend? I’m not going to be that pathetic girl.
But this boy isn’t Cassian. Then again, he’s just as off limits.
Still … a small thrill races down my spine to be this close, in proximity with a boy who I don’t have to share with anyone else back home. He’s my little secret.
He’s not my anything. We haven’t met. Haven’t spoken. He doesn’t even know my name. Precisely the way it should be. I don’t have any business trying to hurdle the gap between stranger and … well, anything else.
It’s a sobering thought. Still, I don’t head for home. I can’t make myself do that. Not yet. Heart hammering in my too-tight chest, I peek around the tree for another look, my skin snapping taut, swimming with sensation. I don’t even blink. Just … strain for the sight of him.
The same Jeep as yesterday with the row bar and lights on top sits parked there. He’s sitting on the shore, staring out at the water, his arms propped on his knees. I glance around, confirming that he’s alone.
A myriad of questions wash through me. What’s he doing out here alone? Where are his friends? Did something happen to Anna? Is she not okay after all?
I can only see his profile, but I study the chiseled features, the hard press of his lips. I follow his gaze to the water as though I can see whatever it is he’s thinking about there.
My entire body leans forward as I try to get a better look, a better understanding of why his dark eyebrows draw low over his eyes in such an intent way. Like he’s concentrating. Or sad. Or … something. I don’t know. And not knowing kills me. I move forward another half step.
Snap.
I duck back behind the tree as his head swivels in my direction. My fingers dig into the rough bark, clinging like it’s my lifeline.
“Hello?”
His deep voice ribbons through the air, sliding over me like a warm current of water. I hold still, the pulse thumping hard in my neck as I debate my next move, wondering if he actually saw me, if he’s coming closer.
“Who’s there?” His voice rings out. Yes. He’s closer.
Swallowing hard, I push off the tree, diving into the foliage. Even as I flee, I know it’s irrational. I should just step out into the open. Act normal. Flirt with him like any human girl would do.
I blame it on draki instinct. It has me running. But I can’t suddenly turn around and act as though I wasn’t just running from him like some sort of desperate criminal.
“Hey!” I hear him call after me, his feet hitting the ground with solid whacks. “Wait!”
I keep running, arms pumping, dodging trees, ducking branches. A quick glimpse behind me shows he’s right there. So close I imagine that I can feel his breath on my hair.
And then my foot catches something and I’m falling. I hit the ground, my palms taking the brunt of the fall. Palms scraped and stinging, I roll onto my back, looking up at him looming over me, legs braced wide. He’s not even out of breath. And I thought I was in shape. Maybe I need to adopt whatever exercise regime he uses.
Presented with the reality of him this close, I can hardly bring myself to meet his gaze. Looking away, I actually feel myself cringing.
“Easy. I won’t hurt you.” He holds his hands apart, bouncing them in the air like he’s trying to calm a wild beast. Me. I swallow, not liking the comparison even if it does fit to some extent. No, I need to act like a normal girl. Not prey.
Determined to do that very thing, I rise to my feet and dust leaves and dirt off me, cringing at the way my fingers tremble. I hope he doesn’t notice.
“Why were you chasing me?”
He lowers his hands. “Why were you running?”
I lift my chin and shrug, pretending not to notice the way his eyes move over me, missing nothing.
He takes his time studying my hair. The dark, blue-streaked mass falls sleekly, stopping just above my waist. I toss it back over my shoulders, trying to break his focus.
He blinks and snaps his gaze back to my face. “You’re the girl from yesterday.”
I give a small nod.
“You saved my sister.”
Something swells to life inside me at this. Anna is his sister.
It shouldn’t matter. Shouldn’t make my pulse quicken. It’s not as though this makes him suddenly available.
It shouldn’t matter, but it does.
“Thank you.”
I shrug again, my face heating with embarrassment at the way his dark brown eyes go all soft and tender. I know it’s just appreciation, gratitude, but I bask in it. It’s so unfamiliar for a boy to look at me with such intensity.
Back home I’m just plain Az. Well liked, yes. But I’ve known every boy in the pride since birth. I’m one of a dozen water draki. Not the most common talent, but not rare either. Not like Jacinda.
I can’t remember standing in front of anyone and feeling so vulnerable, stripped bare with a look. It’s a dangerous feeling. Especially with someone I’m supposed to keep at arm’s length.
I spin on my heels. “I have to go.”
“Wait! Please!”
I hesitate at the please, grabbing on to a tree like I need it to keep me upright.
Harsh air slips past my lips as I wait, listen, looking ahead blindly.
“There’s a party tonight. Back here. At the pond.” His voice strokes me like velvet, and my skin responds, contracting, quivering, pulling tight like I just dove into frigid waters, eager to fade into my draki skin. God. I close a hand over my forearm, squeeze tightly, punishing myself. Not now. Definitely not now.
“You’re welcome to come.” Pause. “I’d like you to come.”
I turn my face, but don’t look back. Not at that face. That body. His voice is more than enough. Too much. The familiar draki pull is there, tugging at my chest, willing me over the precipice. A purr rumbles through me and it startles me. The only other times I’ve manifested unwillingly were from fear. This time I’m not afraid, and yet the urge to manifest is overwhelming. I’ve heard the whispers but never experienced it myself. I know that desire can make the draki surface, draw it from where it lurks deep inside. It’s another fierce emotion, just like fear. If I had any doubt before, I don’t anymore. This boy isn’t safe. Just look at me. I’m too volatile around him.
“Will you come?” he asks.
That nervous little crack in his voice almost undoes me. Almost.
“I don’t think so....” Pulling myself together, I start walking again, pushing ahead with swift strides, telling myself that this is the last time I’ll ever return to this pond. The last time I’ll ever see him.
