Rising (13 page)

Xanthus’s
eyes were ablaze.

He
was jealous. Wow. How he could be jealous of
anyone
else was beyond her, but still she needed to squelch this before it got any worse.

S
ara released her hand from Hal’s grip and reached out to pull Xanthus in closer. “Xanthus, Hal is my hairdresser.”

Xanthus crinkled his brow in confusion.

“He’s a hairstylist. He just did my hair today.”

“Oh, well he did a wonderful job
; you look beautiful.” He made an effort to look relaxed, but Sara saw lingering apprehension.

Sara
wondered how Gretchen was taking all this talk of her looking so beautiful and glanced her way. She should have known. Gretchen’s face was beaming as she smiled and winked at Sara. It was an ‘I told you so’ wink. Gretchen was always telling her how pretty she was. Sara was forever doubtful and now Gretchen was gloating.

Gretchen came forward, taking Hal’s hand. He melted into her side. “We’d better take our seats,” Gretchen
said. “Xanthus, you
could
push Sara to her seat but the aisles are so narrow that it might be easier if you just carry her. She’s not too heavy for you, is she?”

Sara was mortified.

“This little water lily too heavy for me?” Xanthus asked. “I don’t think so.” He lifted her out of the wheelchair. Sara was surprised by his quick movement and, for a moment, felt off balance. She threw her arms around his neck to steady herself. He had a smirk on his face and she knew he’d done it on purpose. Her heart beat double time. She wasn’t sure if it was from the surprise or the excitement of being held by Xanthus. It was probably from both.

“I’ll make sure Sara’s chair is taken care of
,” Gretchen said as she pushed it away.

Moments
later, they were seated near the front. Sara looked on in amazement at the concert hall. Plush seats filled the wide hall and even more seats filled the balcony, which seemed to float above the floor. Her excitement built and she had to check herself to keep from bouncing like a toddler in a candy shop. The upcoming performance was a Chinese orchestra with dance performers. It was supposed to be incredible. Sara loved music. It didn’t matter the style or genre—if it was good, she adored it.

Xanthus slipped his arm around her shoulders and
she practically purred. It just felt so right being here with him. But how would he feel about her deformed legs? It was easy for him to say he’d like her regardless of what her malformed body looked like. He’d never actually seen it. How would he react to seeing it in the flesh?

Sara could still remember the reactions doctors
had had when she went in for an appointment after leaving her mom. She’d gone in search of hope, but found only despair. The doctors couldn’t have looked more shocked if they’d seen a green alien with squirming tentacles. After days of tests and collaboration, they’d told her the only way she could have any semblance of a normal life was to have it surgically removed. They’d told her there were thousands of people living with no legs and she could go on to have a normal life. But as long as she clung to her deformity, she’d be a freak.

They were crazy, insane. She’d never been back to a doctor since.
But, deep in her heart, she wondered if they were right.

She looked over at Xanthus.
What would she do if he rejected her? She didn’t know if she could take it. And when did she start caring so deeply about him? They’d just met. This was their first date. Who knew if there’d be a second? However, the thought of him rejecting her had her terrified.

“Sara, what’s wrong?” Xanthus whispered in her ear.

“What? No, nothing’s wrong.”

“Is it someone in this hall? Why are you afraid?” He glanced around, looking for the cause of
her distress.

This man was too observant.
“It’s nothing, really.”

The lights dimmed and the music
swelled. Sara forgot her troubles the moment the music began. Thankfully, Xanthus seemed to relax too. The next hour and a half they were treated to an amazing performance. The music was lively—a beautiful mix of harmonious tunes paired with nimble, energetic dancers. They moved as one with the music, so much so that Sara became convinced that the music and dance couldn’t possibly exist without each other.

When the last note had been
played, the dancers exited the stage. Sara smiled and sighed. “Wow. That was amazing.” She looked at Xanthus.

The smile on his face didn’t diminish the intensity of his gaze as he looked into
her eyes. “Yes, it was.”

In that
moment, she felt as if they were the only two people in the concert hall, and she very much wanted to kiss him. From the look he was giving her, he was thinking the same thing. His hand brushed feathery soft against her cheek.

A
spike of adrenaline sent icy shoots through Sara’s bloodstream. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw a woman stumble on the balcony and sway backward, teetering over the railing high above. Sara turned her head in shock, knowing she was about to see a woman fall to her death.

Xanthus uttered
a low oath and raised his hand toward the poor woman just before she fell. Sara felt a concussion of energy coming from him, almost like an intense banging of a large drum, but with no sound. The woman looked as if she were being shoved from behind, which of course was impossible since there was nothing behind her but open air. Still, she pitched forward into the arms of a man who was reaching for her. They both fell into the crowd of spectators.

“How did you do that?”
Sara’s voice rasped in a low whisper.

“I did
nothing,” Xanthus said, low and hard, suggesting there would be no argument.

“But I felt…”

“I did nothing, Sara.”

S
he felt tears burning in her eyes. He’d put on a hard mask and she could tell he was furious. She wasn’t sure if he was furious with her or himself, but it was there all the same. She held back the tears, not wanting to humiliate herself.

The ride home was
miserable. He didn’t say a word as tension rolled off him in waves. All she wanted was to get home and in bed so she could vent her hurt and disappointment into her pillow.

Xanthus
acted as if he wanted nothing more than to be rid of her. He got her wheelchair from the back and lifted her into it. He strode ahead of her to the front door as she wheeled after him. Xanthus opened the door for her to pass through, which she did. She hurried, knowing the tears were coming. She didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of seeing her cry.

“Don’t forget to
keep your windows and doors locked. And be sure to set your alarm,” he said before closing the door.

Sara couldn’t
believe him. So that was it? At the end of what started out as the perfect date, she got no goodbye, no kiss, and no I’ll call you—just a cold shoulder.

She narrowed her eyes and straightened her spine.
“Actually, I think I’ll go out,” she said to herself as she made her way to her apartment. “Maybe I’ll see the night life in my neighborhood. Then perhaps I’ll sleep under the stars tonight. I could invite some neighbors, like Slink to join me.” She got to her door and fished out her keys. How dare he act as if she had done something wrong! She’d done nothing.

Th
at night was a long one. Sara’s mind raced as the moon crept across the night sky. She bounced between anger and hurt. She was also mystified at what exactly had happened at the concert hall. Had Xanthus saved that woman? What kind of person has that power? And if he does, who is he? What is he? Where does someone like him come from?

Xanthus slammed his foot down on the accelerator as the ocean view flew past his window. His self-loathing burned deep inside. He had misused the powers Triton entrusted to him. He had ignored his instructions and had meddled in the life of a human. Not only that, he had risked exposing himself.

Xanthus
grunted as he pounded his fist against the steering wheel. He had acted without honor. He had put his own personal feelings above duty. He’d even been neglecting his mission. Oh sure, he’d taken care of the latest cargo of waste that was to be dumped at sea. But then he’d known that the owner and board of directors of Roc enterprises were meeting tonight in response to the bombing of the dock. It would have presented the perfect opportunity to gather them together and send them to Triton to answer for their crimes. Instead, he’d gone to a concert with a criminal.

No, he chided himself. As angry as he was, he couldn
’t blame Sara, and she was no criminal in his eyes. Still, she was a distraction, and he could not afford distractions. He’d been so worried about her and obsessed with her that he’d lost sight of his mission.

Xanthus
needed to take a step away. After all, Sara had lived among the humans her entire life. She could live a few more days without him. He was so close to fulfilling this assignment. He needed to get his head back in the game.

The main office building of Roc was a dark silhouette against the starry sky. The parking lot
spread before him, empty. He could smell the remnants of cigarette smoke, perfume, and sweat. They must have left about a half an hour ago. He slammed his fist into the steering wheel again. What would have been an easy round up would end up being a drawn-out hunt. He will have to track down the five members of the inner circle one by one. These five humans had caused the indescribable pain, suffering, and death of thousands of innocent Dagonians.

Xanthus made a mental list of guilty persons.
Number one on his list would have to be the Vice president, Trent McDougall. He was due to take a flight in the morning to the mainland, making his capture a time-sensitive matter. He was probably home at this time. He slept alone. His wife had left him when she’d discovered his mistress and his mistress left him when she’d discovered her gym buddy’s net worth. Mr. McDougall had yet to find anyone to replace either of them.

Xanthus
scaled the side of the McDougall mansion. A large swimming pool lapped just below. He loved coincidences that worked in his favor. He slit a large X in the screen and slipped through the bedroom window. McDougall snored loudly, his large, blubbery body covered in a light blanket. Xanthus moved in close, slapped his hand tightly over the man’s mouth, and pinned his arm across his chest.

McDougall
’s eyes flew open. He attempted to scream but couldn’t get out more than a murmur of a sound. Xanthus pulled the squirming man out of bed. He dragged him through his house and out the back door. At the pool’s edge, he hissed out the words Triton had instructed him to speak. “I give to you a message from the sea. You have brought death to many of our children. You are now summoned by Triton, King and Guardian of the Sea, to answer for your crimes. You may beg for mercy, you may plead for leniency. You will be given as much compassion as you have shown to those who died an agonizing death at the hands of your poison.”

Xanthus
removed his hand from the criminal’s mouth. The man yelled and cursed, but his eyes were wild and darting around, possibly looking for a miracle to save him. Xanthus reached his hand toward the water’s surface and felt power pulse through him. “I send you to Triton to answer for your crimes.” He pitched the man headfirst into the pool of water. Bubbles rose as the man sank, his flailing legs disappearing into the churning water. A minute later, the water was calm and Xanthus knew the man was gone.

One down, four more to go.