Seven Tears into the Sea (18 page)

When he finally stopped, I was breathless, and the tail of my braid dripped over my shoulder. He was watching it much too intently, so I dipped lower in the water, letting the next wave lap against my chin.

“Yesterday I didn't come because I knew we'd be busy—”

He gave a “go on” gesture as if yesterday was forgotten.

“At the Inn,” he said, suddenly looking precise and serious, “you're getting ready for the solstice?”

“We are,” I said, and though I was still shivering a little, I told him about our preparations. “Are you coming to the bonfires tomorrow night?”

“Of course,” he said. “We'll be the King and Queen of Summer.”

“Oh, we will?” Why was everyone except me so sure of this?

He nodded. Even treading water he looked cocky.

“There's the footrace on land—that's your element, so you'll have to teach me what to do. And the swim—” He'd obviously given this a lot of thought, because he gave a piece-of-cake roll of his eyes. “You can learn to keep up with me.”

“I'll have you know I'm a good swimmer,” I scolded, and when I kicked out at him underwater, he caught my ankle with both of his.

Even though we were just playing, he moved amazingly fast. Really, if a shark had come after us, I'm certain he could have backhanded it away.

But it wasn't Jesse's quickness that made my stomach grip like a fist.

Once he had my ankle trapped between his, he slid his ankles up. To my calf. My knee. And a little higher.

The feeling left me speechless. For a minute. Then I rushed for something—anything!—to break this spell.

“It … it's the jumping over fire part that might give us a little trouble,” I babbled, sculling backward in the water, out of his reach.

“It won't be the first or last of our miracles,” he said smugly.

At least I think he said it. He could have told me by telepathy for all I knew, because we were staring into each other's eyes so hard it made me dizzy.

Falling forward, I thought, since the minute I'd returned to Mirage Beach, I'd been drawn toward the cove, toward the sea, toward Jesse.

And what had he said to me yesterday? It's only a swim? Ha.

“It's not an outright competition though, is it?” he asked. “Gwennie?”

Blurry thoughts came with heightened senses, I guess.

“Huh?” I answered.

“Isn't there some tradition of last year's Summer King and Queen choosing?”

“I think so,” I had to look down to be coherent. I watched my hands make little circles under the surface. “And I think they're more games than competitions.”

“Why can't you look at me?” he asked.

I can, but I might drown,
I thought. But I didn't say that, thank goodness. I only blurted, “Where shall we go?”

He pointed to a sunny spot decorated with swaying kelp, and then he dove. I threw my head back for a gulp of air, not meaning to fill my eyes with blue sky and sunshine, but I took it with me when I arched after him.

He slowed and swam beside me. Currents surged
along our bodies. A forest of sea tangle opened for us. We were surrounded when he suddenly darted in front of me. For a heartbeat we were face-to-face, and then he kissed me.

Is an underwater kiss possible? Can you feel wreaths of bubbles floating through your hair, forming leis around your neck, and not gasp for breath?

I only know he kissed like an ocean god. When I opened my eyes, he was smiling. Then he took my hand and we swam on.

Beneath us yawned a deep blue underwater canyon. The sea felt thick, cool, and dark. The salt didn't burn my eyes.

As we started up, the green surface grew paler, golden, and then we burst through. Wind seared our faces. Startled gulls rose in squawking clouds. Sea lions rocketed beside us. Their luminous eyes flashed as we moved together toward the cove.

Had we swum from Little Beach, through the kelp forest to the cove on a single breath? Impossible.

“I can't believe we stayed under so long,” I said, drawing a normal breath.

“I kiss like an ocean god?” he asked, and my heart stopped.

That thought couldn't have been spoken. I'd been underwater when he'd kissed me. Jesse's question was no random lucky guess, either.

He could read my mind. It was like being told you had to undress in front of a window if you ever wanted to change clothes.

I wished we'd stayed under water longer.

“Gwen? I asked—”

“I know what you asked, and yes, you do, but don't think it means anything.”

He laughed, and a cacophony of seabirds flew up around us. I wanted to strangle him. I wanted to hug him. Underwater had been so smooth and simple.

I swung an arm over the water, creating a white wake, and I thought he was going to kiss me then, but he didn't. He splashed me instead and swam toward the cove.

“I'm not sure we should swim in there,” I called after him, and he stopped. “If Bull takes exception to humans, it won't be pretty.”

“Bull?” he asked.

“That big male sea lion with the jutting caveman forehead.”

He gave me a superior look. “He's gone. Besides, he won't bother me.”

“Well, he might bother me,” I said. “And there's another one. A young male, I'm pretty sure, with an old cut across his nose.” I took one hand from the water to make a quick slashing motion across my own nose. “He plays pretty rough.”

I'd said too much. Jesse had already saved me from drowning once. He'd probably think I was accident prone, or a lousy swimmer, hearing I'd almost drowned a second time. But he'd latched onto another part of what I'd said.

“You're ‘pretty sure' he's a male?” Jesse asked.

“The black sea lion? Yeah, well, you know. I didn't
check
.”

Once more, Jesse's laughter sent seabirds scattering.

“You go ahead to the cove if you want to,” I told him. When you were swimming with a tanned and muscled merman, it was probably a good idea to stay away from discussions of gender differences.

Still, I worried that he'd be hurt.

“Sea lions are at the top of the food chain around here, you know, and those teeth—” I shuddered. “I'm not chancing it.”

His uppity look vanished, and he nodded with sudden understanding. “I think of danger when I swim along Mirage Beach. It's where I'm supposed to die.”

“What? There is no
supposed
to about dying.”

“Death in the green grotto,” he said as if he were reciting. “That's where it will happen.”

“How do you—Why do you think—?”

“I've always known,” he said, and the spell that had held me in the kelp forest started to fade.

If he could read my mind, could he read the future?

And then he did something totally unexpected. He hugged me, but his head tipped down beneath my chin. His cheek pressed to my throat. He still held me up, but I was looking down on the black glossiness of his hair. When I stroked it, he sighed, and I felt this incredible wave of … tenderness.

Oh my God. This is like falling in love. I might be falling in love. But I couldn't. It was happening too fast. He was too weird and I was too young. Nothing made sense.

I closed my eyes. Sun sizzled on my shoulders, and I passed my hand over his hair again.

“Gwen?”

“Yes.”

“You know why we have to be together, don't you?”

More weirdness was coming, I could hear it in his voice, but I'd stopped fighting it. I just shook my head. My chin skimmed over his wet hair.

“I'm your selkie.”

“No—”

His arms tightened around me so hard, I gasped.

“Don't pull away or I'll take you underwater,” he said in a totally normal tone. “I'm yours because you summoned me with your tears.”

“But—” I kicked my legs and twisted, trying to see his face.

“Seven of them,” he added.

Now I knew why he'd put us in this position. He
didn't want to see my eyes and “hear” what I was thinking. This entire day, no, this entire week—wait, my whole
life
was insane! But he wouldn't let me go.

“Jesse,” I snarled, but that was as far as I got because he sank beneath the waves, taking me with him.

I came up, coughing, but Jesse didn't look a bit sorry.

He pushed me through the water, away from him.

“Back to your Little Beach!” He dove again, pulling me along with him.

But he released me in a minute. Then my hand was free, and I saw the amber-blue bubble of him surging away.

I raced to follow because anger had turned to something else. Competition fizzed in my bloodstream. I could catch him.

My arms cut through the waves after him, but I stayed on the surface while he swam underneath. He had an incredible lung capacity, and I was out of shape, but he was
not
getting away after saying something so bizarre.

The muscles in my arms lengthened. My quads swelled with energy. My calves trembled, reminding me how it felt to bounce off a board, into the air, and tumble through the sky to slip smoothly into the exact place I'd chosen.

He was long gone, but I was so certain I'd see him just ahead, so sure I'd catch him, I swam past my landmark.

Realizing I'd lost him, I turned around and swam slowly back. When I staggered out of the shallows, I was too tired to be mad. My knees were so weak I thought I'd fall, and there he was sprawled on the white sand, basking.

I threw myself onto the sand beside him.

Forget the towel, forget the fact that this was a semipublic beach, forget the fact that he was certifiably insane. I let the warmth of the sun above and sand below seep into my chilled skin, and then, oh what the heck, I threw one of my arms over his back in a companionable hug.

He didn't open his eyes, but he made a groaning sound past an amazing smile.

After a few minutes, I pulled together enough strength to reach inside my beach bag for my watch. How long till I had to be at the Inn?

Jesse's hand flopped over mine, trapping it, before I could see the face of my watch. A gull with great timing laughed overhead. And still Jesse's eyes stayed closed.

“Are you sleeping?” I asked him.

“Aye,” he said. Though I'd heard the Celtic lilt to his voice, this was the first time I'd heard him say
aye
. “And I'm going to tell you my dream, a selkie's dream.” He must have heard me draw a breath to protest, because he said, “Just pretend.”

And I did.

Face down, with the sun kneading my back, I listened as the everyday cadence of his voice changed to tell the story of a fisherman who lost his clasp knife while trying to skin a not-yet-dead sea lion.

“That's awful.” I raised on my hands as if I were doing a push-up. “I don't want to hear this.”

“Aye, you do,” Jesse told me, and the gentle pressure of his palm on the small of my back lowered me back into the sand.

“Late that night a stranger knocked at the fisherman's door, despite the terrible storm that raged. So bad it was, the wind nearly ripped the door from the fisherman's hut as he opened it. The stranger pretended to return the knife, which had tumbled into the blue depths, but as soon as the fisherman reached for it, he was caught.

“In fact, the stranger was a selkie. He wrestled the fisherman into the surf. Then pulling him along, like so much deadweight, the selkie brought the fisherman up the coast to a quiet cove.

“There a grievously hurt woman of surpassing beauty awaited them. She was a selkie, and her mate, the stranger in the night, made the fisherman understand that only he, with his human hands, could save her.”

Jesse paused. He lowered his face so close to mine, his breath stirred my hair. I opened my eyes and he stared back.

“I'm awake,” I told him. “Keep talking.”

“Right, well, seeing he'd hurt such a magical creature, the fisherman first grieved, then demanded brandy to deaden her pain, and needle and thread to sew her wound. But the selkies had neither …”

Jesse's voice trailed off, and I had the terrible feeling she'd die. The stupid human would've killed her, all unknowing. I didn't want to hear it, and I didn't want to be late for work.

“… but needle and thread were not the way of it…. Oh, Gwennie, stop,” he said as I tried to edge my watch where I could see it.

He flipped me onto my back and stared down at me. My heart was pounding.

“Don't go,” he said, “or you'll ruin a perfect morning.”

His eyes were so dark I could barely see the pupils.

“Are you going to tell me that tomorrow might not be perfect? Even though it will be Midsummer's Eve?” I asked.

“See? There are other things to learn besides letters. And you're doing a fine job of it, too.”

I thought he'd kiss me then, too, but he didn't. What good was a psychic boyfriend, I thought grumpily, if—

“You like me again,” he said, watching me.

“Oh yes, I do,” I said, studying him right back, but my honesty embarrassed me. I jerked my hand free and looked at the time. “You have really made me late.”

Jesse let me push to my feet. Then he rolled on his
side, leaned his head into his hand, and his eyes scanned up the length of my legs before he pretended to go back to sleep.

“So, are you going to hurry up and finish that story?” I asked. I wrung out my sopping braid, purposely splattering water on his chest. “Or will you keep me in suspense?”

I snatched up my towel, tied it around my waist, then gazed down at him, all sleepy in the sand. I was thinking about kicking just a teeny bit of sand his way, when his fingers clamped around my ankle, and, I admit it, I squeaked.

He gave a warm chuckle before letting go and rolling facedown in the sand.

“Keep you in suspense,” he said, finally answering me. And even though his voice was muffled because he was face down in the sand, I think he added, “Tell me when you can't stand it any more.”