Jax’s smile was rueful. “We are not invincible. Any godlike qualities we inherited from Poseidon have been diluted through the generations. We are much closer to mortal than to immortal.”
The admission obviously irked him.
“Besides, the Eluvian Trench is a hundred leagues from this island. I was weakened by my distance from home.”
“From the Archelon.”
“Yes.”
As Jax spoke, I had the almost irresistible urge to reach out, to touch one of the scars. As if I could soothe it or make it go away. Silly.
“Who betrayed you?” I asked instead, although in my mind a shadowy image of his brother Mikos was forming. I could imagine him doing something sneaky like that. Maybe he had plans to be leader himself, even if it meant having to eliminate his brother.
“I have my suspicions,” said Jax, as if he echoed my own thoughts. “But it doesn’t matter anymore. I have no designs on leading this clan. They spend their time on frivolous amusements. Hunting and fighting and all the while waiting for the day when the glory of our ancestors will return. I simply don’t care anymore.”
“You must care about something.”
Jax looked down at me. “No.” He frowned. “I don’t know
why I tell you these things. It has been a long time since I’ve had someone to talk to.”
“Sometimes it’s easier to tell things to a stranger.”
“Here, it’s very calm. Lie back in the water,” he said. “If you want to.”
I shook my head. “No. I can’t float. I’ll get water up my nose and it will be a whole thing. With flailing.”
Jax smiled. It made his eyes crinkle at the corners and transformed his face into something almost beguiling. Somewhere a lightning-rod switch got flipped. An electric current sizzled between his eyes and mine and some hot, melty place in the center of my chest.
“You’ll be safe. I promise you.” Jax came closer and, almost tentatively, put one hand on the small of my back.
Somehow I believed him.
I leaned my head back and felt the water creep over my scalp and tug gently at my hair. My arms drifted.
“Now let go,” he said.
My feet left the bottom as I arched my back deeply, feeling Jax’s hand, warm and firm, inside the curve of my spine. The water closed over my ears, blocking out everything but a soothing hiss. I closed my eyes and floated, moving with the gentle rise and fall of the water.
Let go
.
I did. The water no longer felt like something separate from me. I was weightless. Untethered from the world. The only thing that held me, my only anchor as the whole earth turned beneath me, was Jax’s hand against my skin.
I’m not sure how long we stayed like that; it probably wasn’t the lifetime that I imagined. But when I opened my eyes, the sun had dropped lower and lit the air; everything seemed highlighted with gold. Jax stood looking down at me, his silhouette etched against the twilight.
I’d never felt so exposed.
I’d never felt so powerful.
I wanted him to kiss me.
“What?” he said.
“What? I didn’t say anything.”
God, did I?
I stood up unsteadily, clumsy and dripping again. I was aware of him just behind me, his hand still on my back. I turned my head, searching for something to say, but Jax put a hand to my neck, urging my head back as he bent forward and kissed me.
Our lips touched. The rest of my body completed a slow half circle as he turned me in his arms to face him. His kisses were gentle, tasting caresses on my mouth.
“You’ve done something to me,” he said. His breath was ragged as his lips traced a line to my ear.
“I think it’s the other way around,” I whispered, pulling him back to my mouth.
I twisted my fingers through the dark coils of his hair. Just like before, I was floating. Only two words in my mind.
Closer, Jax
.
He broke away gently, putting arm’s-length distance between us. He was looking at me oddly.
“What’s wrong?” I whispered.
“This is,” he said. He stepped back. “You’re a Lander. I apologize for any offense.” He turned away, going deeper into the water. As he did he transformed, the fin on his back growing and spreading like a magnificent wing.
“What? Wait. When will I see you again?” I asked. My mind fumbled for something to say. “At Revel?”
He stopped in the water and turned. He looked a little shocked, I thought.
“Revel?” he repeated in a voice that had grown much colder. The smile was gone. The Jax who stood before me now was the fallen angel with hard, brooding eyes. “Yes,” he said at last, “if you wish. Goodbye, Lander.”
With that he twisted and dove away, disappearing beneath the water.
S
omething was happening to me. As if I was under some kind of spell, I found myself thinking about Jax—and about the water—constantly. Maybe he’d done something to me with that first touch, that first kiss.
It was becoming a big problem. Easy enough for Sean to tell me to stay out of the water. He didn’t know how it
drew
me. Beyond the sheer physical pleasure I had in being immersed, there were other things. I tried to stay away, but after a little while my throat began to feel scratchy. My voice was hoarse no matter how much water I drank. My skin felt dry, and my clothing felt like sandpaper against it.
Maybe it was all in my head. I was fascinated with Jax and he was in the water, so naturally that was where
I
wanted to be. But after his abrupt farewell the other day—no, more like
his
dismissal
of me—I seriously doubted this was any more than a game to him.
If I was a Lander, as he called me, maybe I should start acting like one. I should hang out with my own kind of people, not some moody demigod.
Down at the dock, Buddy started barking as soon as he saw me, and came bounding to greet me like a canine King Kong. I bent down to hug him.
“Yeah, you’re growing on me,” I whispered as he licked my hand, and whatever else he could reach before I blocked him.
I found Sean working with the lobster traps on the
Widowsong
. The sight of him, so tall and strong and competent, so
normal
, made me feel at ease. I didn’t have the crazy, breathless feelings I had when I was near Jax, but maybe that was for the best.
“Do you need any help?” I asked.
“You want to bait lobster traps?” Sean asked dubiously. “You must really be bored.”
I wasn’t bored, simply trying to stay out of the water, and out of trouble, as Sean had put it. I shrugged and said, “I want to learn about what you do, that’s all.”
“Okay, sure. Here. Stuff this bag with fish guts.”
He pointed to a bucket at my feet, filled with cut-up fish.
Little bulgy eyes stared up at me and little mouths gaped. “Um.” I swallowed. “Maybe I’ll just watch.”
Sean laughed. “Sure.”
“How does it work?” I asked, eyeing the lobster trap.
He tied a mesh bag filled with bait and hung it inside the front part of the cage-like trap. “This is called the kitchen,” he said. “Where we put the food. And this is the parlor.” He pointed to the end of a funnel-shaped tunnel that opened into another chamber of the trap. “Mr. Lobster comes inside the parlor, then he can’t get back out.”
I sighed. “You had to call him Mr. Lobster, didn’t you? Now I feel bad.”
“Yeah, well,” said Sean, quirking a smile. “I throw all the cute ones back, okay?”
“Great. Now I feel bad for the homely ones.” Buddy nudged up against me and I rubbed behind his ears, then scratched the thick ruff of fur at his neck. “How long does it take to catch them?”
“We set the pots in the morning and collect them the next day,” said Sean. “The Glauks usually help out, herding the lobsters toward the pots. That’s how we get the biggest and the best. Gunn’s Lobster is the finest on the coast,” he said, with obvious pride. “The wholesalers in Portland can’t figure out what our secret is.”
“Bet they’d be pretty surprised if they did.” I pressed the toe of my sneaker against the railing of the boat. “Could I come lobstering with you sometime, when you go out?”
“No,” said Sean. “Sorry. It’s …”
“Let me guess, not allowed,” I finished with a huff of impatience.
“I was going to say
dangerous
,” Sean replied. “But, yeah, it’s against the rules too.”
I nodded. “Why dangerous? What’s going on? Have there been more Icers?”
“No,” he said uneasily. “It’s been quiet. Don’t worry about that stuff, Delia. Okay? That’s my job.”
I sighed and fluttered my lashes. “My hero.”
His face grew somber as he looked at me. “Well, yeah,” he said softly. “I’d like to be.”
Something in his expression deflated all my sarcasm.
He peeled the heavy yellow gloves from his hands and seemed to choose his words carefully.
“After you lost your mom,” he asked, “how did you keep going?”
I hesitated, wondering why he was asking me this. Maybe Sean was still grieving for his dad, I thought with a pang. Or maybe his mom’s condition was more serious than I’d realized. Maybe sharing would help him somehow.
“For a long time it seemed like I
didn’t
,” I told him. “Keep going, I mean. Everything just went on around me, past me. And I didn’t really care. After a while I started moving again, you know, inside. But slowly. Sort of on autopilot.”
Sean nodded and looked at his fingernails. “And how long did it hurt?” he asked quietly.
“It still hurts,” I said. “But I’m okay.”
Sean always seemed so strong, so independent. I wished he would let me in a little. “You know, if you ever want to talk about your dad or anything, I’m a pretty good listener.”
Sean nodded. “Thanks. I’m good.” He frowned. “What made you want to come here to Trespass?”
“I wanted to bring Mom back to where she was born,” I said softly. “And I wanted to find out if it could be a home for me too.”
“So what do you think?” asked Sean. “You like it here a little bit, don’t you?”
I smiled at him and nodded. “Yeah, I do like it here.”
“Revel is in less than a week,” Zuzu said dreamily, resting her chin in one hand. “I can hardly wait.”
We were at her house, one of the small bungalows that sat on the cliffs overlooking Trespass harbor and the dock. Zuzu’s mother was a plump, friendly woman with curly black hair who fussed over Zuzu constantly. “I’m so glad that Zuzu has a nice girl like you to spend time with,” she told me in her soft, fluttery voice as she poured us iced tea. “And I don’t pay any attention to those things people are saying in the village. We’re very open-minded in this household.”
“What things?” I asked.
“Oh, Mom,” said Zuzu.
“Well …” Zuzu’s mother patted her throat nervously. “The way your mother left, of course. And all the strange
things that have happened since you came, dear.” She turned to Zuzu. “Do you know that Ned Laquinn went out to pull traps yesterday and there was not a single lobster in them? Not one.”
I frowned. Sean hadn’t told me anything about trouble with the lobster catches. Then again, maybe he wouldn’t. “I don’t have anything to do with that,” I told her. “How could I? And you don’t always catch something when you go fishing. Surely that happens sometimes.”