The thing was so large, its unblinking eyes were bigger than my head. One false move and I’d be breakfast. We stared at each other for several long moments, and then I slowly, ever so carefully, reached into my pocket. And pulled out the crystal. The creature’s attention shifted, and I braced for the agony of being snapped in two. I didn’t have enough strength to stop it. I was running on empty, the crystal too. I didn’t bother to unsheathe my knife.
Instead, I did something strange.
My hand rose higher, erasing the gap between us. And opened to reveal the crystal. Emerald green glinted as the sun caught a facet. The serpent stilled, eyes wholly trained on the rock. A rumble echoed through the water as its throat vibrated. Then the animal moved, gliding forward until the tip of its nose bumped the crystal. Instinctively, my fingers gripped the edges as pure adrenaline shot through my body. Air whooshed out of me in a flurry of bubbles.
Before I could react, the serpent’s long snout dipped beneath me and thrust me upward. Then I was airborne. My wings snapped wide, showering me with water. I struggled with their sodden weight as sweet air I’d never expected to breathe again raced into my lungs.
“What the crap!” I yelled, then glanced down. Yup. The creature was still there. Staring at me with big, round eyes. Like a . . . pet.
I heaved in another breath and searched for Reagan. She was still. So still and limp in Caspar’s arms as Sebastian tried to compress her chest. He was snarling at Caspar who hissed right back while trying to prop her body up at the right angle. An idea—a stupid idiotic idea—struck me.
“Give her to me.” I put an arm beneath her shoulders and Caspar startled, almost dropping her for the second time.
He blinked up at me. “You’re still alive?”
“No,” I snapped. “I’m a ghost come to haunt your dumb, klutzy butt. Now pass her over or I’m feeding you to my new pet.”
Shocked, his arms liquified and I caught her. Not wasting any time—not thinking about what I was going to do next—I lowered us to the water. The serpent stared at me and I stared back . . . asking. Begging. The great forest green body rose and I planted my feet where the spikes tapered off, then lowered Reagan onto the shiny scales.
Her face was white. Lips blue. Gaia, please let this work. I pressed my lips to hers, blew air into her mouth, and began CPR.
Seconds passed.
I kept going. Wouldn’t—couldn’t—stop. The others hovered above us but I ignored them, focusing all my energy on saving Reagan. As I pressed on her chest, I pushed my healing magic into her veins, coaxing the salt water toward her throat. Up, up and into her mouth. She made a wet gurgling noise, then water gushed from her lips as she sputtered and coughed.
My heart exploded at the sounds. Alive. She’s alive. I eased her sideways so her lungs could further expel the excess water. She shook all over from cold and exhaustion as I ran my hands down her arms and back. I couldn’t stop touching her, reassuring myself that she was alive and breathing. I brushed her hair back, and she weakly turned her head. And when those beautiful blue and gold eyes met mine, I lost my mind.
Pulling her to me, I kissed her soundly.
If I had to choose a life experience to not repeat, nearly drowning was the one.
I had thought dark and cold was the end. Some part of me had come to peace with it. But then I was fighting again, struggling for air as water gurgled up my throat. Tarik turned me on my side and I could do little but cough, my breath coming in gasping shudders that blazed fire through my chest. Every inch of me trembled from the chill that lingered and the exertion of trying to stay awake.
But when I tilted my head, when I opened my eyes, my vision filled with emerald green. A pile of emotions lodged in my chest. Tarik is alive.
He found me.
We’re alive.
And then he had me in his arms, lips pressed to mine, and the dam of emotions burst. The tang of salt bit my tongue as I leaned into him, welcomed the sensation of his grip tightening around me. Relief flooded my mind. He’s alive. I’m alive. Tarik’s mouth was soft and warm, and everywhere his fingers touched, gentle tendrils of magic coursed into my skin. He pulled away too soon, motioning to Nevaeh. Even as his healing spread through me, I shivered.
“Can you tuck in your wings?” he asked softly.
His request made my lip twitch, a moment of déjà vu rising, but I closed my eyes and pressed my forehead to his arm. I breathed in, focusing my limited energy on the bulky limbs. After a moment they retracted, slowly, haltingly. Tarik gave me half a breath to rest before he tugged me onto his lap, draping a thick sweater around my neck and gently slipping my arms through. Nevaeh helped with a pair of leggings while Tarik jerked on a shirt of his own, and I struggled to be of use to her.
Somewhere in the process of dressing, the world shook and I froze. Tarik’s arm looped around me before he said, “Don’t freak out. It’s harmless. I think.”
I glanced down, then jerked upright. My heart leapt into my throat. We sat on a blanket of green scales that were gently swaying above the water. I inhaled sharply. Nausea swept through me and the sudden, sharp intake of breath unsettled my precarious stomach. Tarik’s hand slid to the back of my neck, running soothing patterns across my skin as his magic resumed its course through my body. After a moment of watching the sunlight glinting off the scales, I tentatively relaxed into his arms again.
He started to fill in the blanks and I tried to listen. But my mind was still fogged, tired, and I wasn’t making sense of his words. “Sea serpent” caught my attention, though, and my stomach lurched. I took a long breath, nestling my head against Tarik’s chest. His voice purred through me, settled my fear, and so I focused on the rhythm of his heart and the gentle sway of the ocean. I gripped the soft linen of his shirt and pulled him closer. Every inhale filled my senses with the rain scent that clung to him, even under the sea brine. My breathing slowed, though my fingers tightened their hold. I couldn’t let him go—I had to know he was still there.
The sun hadn’t shifted much when I woke again. Minutes, maybe an hour. Tarik hadn’t moved, the soft tingle of magic still dancing along my spine. Guilt poured over me in waves, replacing my relief and the quiet moment of rest I had stolen. Tarik’s magic must be nearly depleted at this point. His fingers halted when I tensed, then resumed, but I swallowed. My throat burned, ached, but I needed to apologize. I needed him to know that this wasn’t Caspar’s fault, or Sebastian’s for leaving me with him, and that he shouldn’t drain himself trying to heal me. I didn’t deserve his help. This mistake was mine to carry. I had almost gotten myself killed. And if I had failed against those birds sooner? I didn’t want to think about it.
“Tarik . . .” I whispered, my voice dry and raspy. “I need . . . to apologize.”
He stilled. “For what?”
“I wasn’t entirely honest with you.” The words stuck in my throat, but before I could rethink the apology I blurted, “I haven’t slept more than a handful of stolen minutes in . . . days. More than a week. Not telling you was stupid, and it could have cost you. Or the others. Hell, I almost . . .” I closed my eyes, shoved away the darkness creeping into my mind. The cold. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you, even after you asked me to. You shouldn’t drain your magic trying to help me. This was my fault. I should suffer the consequences, not you. And—I’m sorry.”