Shining Sea (24 page)

PASSAGE

“I told you, my dad gave me a ride. I’m sorry, I didn’t think it would be such a big deal.”

The weather at Summers Cove is miraculously clear. Bo’s mood is no match. He picked me up after school, and although he barely commented when I told him my mother and sister were coming, he asked me a hundred times why I hadn’t been home this morning.

Hard to believe, that’s not what’s bothering me.

“Bo, about last night.” I remember sitting on the bed with him, remember him telling me I shouldn’t be alone, and then—nothing. “Did I fall asleep on you? I mean, I must have—”

The questions catch in my throat as he pulls me down onto a blanket he’s spread on the sand.

“Last night,” he says slowly, as if trying to recall it himself. We’re both lying on our sides now with very little space between us. “I think—” He narrows his eyes, looking at me through a fringe of sunlit lashes, then reaches around me, bringing his hand to my lower back, drawing my hips against his. “You may have been trying to find out if I have a fish tail.”

I start to laugh, then stop as the pressure of his hand increases and I feel his hip bones through our jeans, feel his hard thighs. Blood pounding in my ears, I glance down. A strip of golden skin shows between the hem of his T-shirt and his leather belt. Sunlight glints off the brass buckle, and, definitely, a boy’s body lies beneath it. Maybe that’s why when he twines his arms around me and pulls the blanket over us—I don’t protest.

But all at once he shifts so that he’s on top of me—his legs straddling my hips. A dark line of music seems to bind my hands to my sides as something flashes in his eyes—

Something
predatory
.

“Wait—”

But he doesn’t. His body presses down harder on mine, his mouth covering my mouth, his tongue swiftly parting my lips—

“Hey, you guys look like a giant sushi roll!”

The blanket unfurls, nearly dumping me onto the sand as Bo quickly draws back from me and sits up. “Cord. I thought you and J and Mia were out.”

“We were.” Cord grins. “And now—we’re back.”

Bo swipes angrily at Cord’s calves. With a shaky laugh, I sit up too.

“Easy there—let’s not shed any blood in front of the girlfriend.” Cord dances away from Bo’s grasping hands. “Love to hang with you two, but—” He flashes the universal surfer dude sign. “Gotta go rip it!” He bounds off.

I bite my lip, not sure how worried I should be about what just happened.

Bo tosses a pebble at the sea.

“He seems . . . caffeinated,” I say. Then softly, I ask, “Are you okay?”

Bo lets out a sort of strangled laugh. “Am I okay? Sure. I almost—but sure, I’m okay.” He runs his hands over his face. Adjusts his shirt. Then in one flowing movement, he stands up and tugs me to my feet. “You want to tell Jordan he was right, or should I?”

And as if Bo’s conjured him—Jordan is strolling toward us. I feel my face grow hot.

But all he says is, “Let’s talk,” then gestures for us to join him down by the water.

“Last summer,” he begins, as we sit down just out of reach of the waves, “—not the one that just ended, I mean the one before—Nick Delaine was here.”

Did they plan this?
Because they must know, that even though Jordan convinced me yesterday that someone is trying to kill me, I’m having a hard time believing it’s my best friend’s brother, my best friend’s
dead
brother.

Bo says, “Crescent Beach has never been a big hangout, because the light station hasn’t been occupied since one of its towers was lost—and half the cottage destroyed—in the mid-1700s. But once the Maine Historic Registry made the peninsula their pet project and got the bright idea for a national seashore; about a year ago April, we started seeing kids over there.”

A year ago April.
Lilah had been on Rock Hook at the end of June. Had she and Dad visited the lighthouse? Probably. But they couldn’t have stayed there—it wasn’t ready.

“We didn’t worry about it,” Jordan says. “Our jetty pretty much says ‘Keep Out.’”

“As far as locals,” Bo says, “we always figured the best thing to do to protect our privacy is to satisfy their curiosity. So every summer, we have a lobster bake.”

“The whole town comes. Our family has a reputation for being slightly—eccentric, so of course everybody wants to get a good look.” Jordan’s smile is brutal.

Eccentric.
Is that the best guess the residents of Rock Hook can come up with?

“A few days before the party, Nick and his girlfriend, Beth Anderson, found their way to our beach. They probably walked over from Crescent Beach. Maybe he was showing her where the party was going to be, or—we don’t know. What we
do
know is that Cord heard someone shouting.” Jordan looks at Cord, who’s just thrown himself down on the sand next to us.

“I was inside,” Cord says, as if on cue. “Taking a break from surfing. I looked out the front door. A guy and a girl were up on the jetty. It seemed like he was trying to help her off the rocks, but then he grabbed her shoulders, started—hassling her. I wasn’t sure if I should get involved.

“Then he pushed her down. Flipped her onto her back. She screamed, and he yelled something like,
Is this what you wanted from him?
Is this what you think he’s got?
Then he—got on top of her. Started kissing her. Then he hit her.

“I ran outside. He stood up—but didn’t see me. She tried to get up too, but he hit her again. She tumbled down the rocks to the water. He just—watched.

“I ran toward the water, toward the spot where she went under. He saw me and tried to get down off the jetty, but he fell—same place she did. I—I couldn’t help them both.

“She wasn’t conscious when I carried her out—I took too long. Her hair was hanging down. There was blood everywhere. Then our father was there, Bo and Jordan right behind him. Our father took the girl from me. Bo and Jordan went in after the guy.”

Jordan shrugs. “He was barely breathing, which I figured was a good thing. But then I realized it would be pretty uncool if he died here. The questions. The attention. We stupidly thought, if we saved the guy, he’d be grateful. We could spin it however we needed to.”

“But the only way to keep him alive,” Bo says, “was to Deepen him.”

“Deepen him,” I echo. Vaguely I become aware that Bo is watching me intently.

“I told the police I saw them both dead in the water,” Cord says. “I had to say—I saw their bodies but couldn’t get to them.”

Suddenly I’m on the grass in front of the high school, listening to Logan.
“They found their bodies—then they lost them.”
A shudder runs through me. Everybody sees it.

“It was a two-man job, trying to turn that bastard.” Jordan appears to be entertained by the memory. “But the guy was broken to begin with, so it didn’t
quite
click. Of course, I had zero experience. That couldn’t have helped.”

“You’d never Deepened anyone?” Too late, I bring my hand to my mouth.

“No. Once I heard a Song that attracted me for more than just . . . the obvious reasons. But it disappeared. She disappeared.” Jordan hits the sand with the heel of his hand. “I lost her. I never even had a chance to begin the Deepening.”

Bo nudges Cord. “Is J saying there’s a girl out there for him?”

Cord grins and I feel a certain relief. “Yeah,” he says. “I don’t know about that—”

“You two really want to start?” Jordan growls.

“How exactly does Deepening work?” I quickly ask.

“Or not work,” Bo says darkly.

“Bo,” Cord says, “something about that dude was off from the start. That’s why things didn’t go right. Man, it’s gotta suck to be Beth, living with the memories of that guy.”

“Um, excuse me?” I wave a hand through the salt air. “
Living
with the memories?”

“Beth lives in India, with friends of ours,” Bo explains. “Pretty great seeing her the other day, wasn’t it?” he says to his brothers. They nod in agreement.

Seeing my confusion, Bo says, “That trip I took. Jordie, Cord, Mia—we all went to India. Our friends there helped us map out some . . . unexplained Siren activity.” He scowls. “Nick’s activity.”

But I’m not thinking about Nick anymore. I’m thinking about Beth. Beth Anderson, a girl who used to live on Rock Hook, like I do now. A girl who went to Rock Hook High just like I do. Beth Anderson, an ordinary girl, who, everybody thinks, drowned. But she didn’t die.

Our father took the girl.
Our father. Not dad. Nothing so intimate.
Our father.

I look over at Cord and he smiles, but in my head I hear the rest of it. I hear what happened next, and can’t smile back.

Our father took the girl—and made her a Siren.

BIRDS

Somehow Cord convinces me to stay for dinner. I try not to think about what, exactly, that might be like as I phone Dad to let him know I won’t be home to eat.

Dad says fine, tells me I won’t miss much. He’s just having eggs and toast tonight. This makes me hesitate. The breakfast-for-dinner thing, that’s what we eat in my family when we’re not feeling well. Briefly, I wonder what’s wrong, but my ears are so full of Siren Songs I don’t get around to asking.

Sitting at the farm table in the Summers’ kitchen I
do
ask what’s wrong. With Nick Delaine.

“Deepening is complicated, and”—Bo glances at Jordan—“it wouldn’t be in anyone’s best interest to explain the entire process to you. But in Nick’s case—”

“Or any part of the process,” Jordan says gruffly.

“Come on, J—it’s okay,” Bo says.

“Why is it okay? You going to Deepen her?”

“Whether I do or not, it won’t hurt for her to hear—”

“Oh, it’ll hurt. Or didn’t you get to that part yet?” He gives a short laugh and turns to me. “Before you talk my brother into anything, you should know, the birth of a Siren’s wings isn’t pretty. Skin rips. Bones break. There’s a
lot
of blood. You up for that?”

“Jordan, what the hell?” Bo snaps.

“You guys!” Cord shouts.

I shrink back in my seat. “I never said I wanted to be Deepened.”

“Yeah, well, it won’t be up to y—”

“Jordie.” Mia holds up a hand. She appeared at the table a minute ago and now she locks eyes with Jordan. “It’s easy to understand why Arion wants to know about Nick.” After a moment she turns to me. “Deepening
can
be done safely. Whether it’s what you want . . .” She shrugs. “The process takes time, when it’s done right. And there can be complications. But it worked fine for Beth. Nick, well, he didn’t complete his Deepening. At least, not with us.” Her eyes flick to Bo.

“Jordan took the last of Nick’s breath. Obviously, it had to be replaced. The job fell to me.” Bo’s tone turns bitter. “Apparently, I was too generous.” Bo shakes his head. “I’ll never forget the way he looked at his body as it began to engage. He was horrified. So angry—J and I couldn’t hold him, not even with our father’s help. He disappeared into the sea. None of us thought he’d survive.”

I look sideways at Jordan.
He took the last of Nick Delaine’s breath.
Is that why he’s so awful? Or does he choose to be? Choice.
What is it about choice?

“Did he really accuse you guys of being witches?” Blue waves dance in Cord’s eyes.

“Enough.” Jordan stands up. “We can’t take this kind of risk, not with everything that’s going on. What if some idiot gets his hands on Mortal Girl here? I’m not talking about a Siren; I’m talking about TV Twelve, or a cop from Portland.” He turns to go.

“Jordie—” Bo grips his brother’s forearm. The two stare at each other for a long minute. Finally, Jordan shakes off Bo’s hand. He straightens his chair. Sits back down.

Silence falls over the room. Bo stabs at a slice of seared tuna that’s lying on his plate.

“Cord and I caught it this morning,” Mia told me when I’d complimented her on the tender pink fish. Thankfully, dinner consisted primarily of tuna and two types of seaweed salad.

I tried to visualize her under the waves, traveling with lightning speed . . . actually, the lightning analogy isn’t accurate. Sirens aren’t quite that fast. They travel at the speed of sound.

“Seven hundred and seventy miles per hour,” Cord had been happy to explain earlier. “A few hundred miles per hour
faster
than an airplane.”

Which meant it had taken the Summers one average American workday to reach India.

Swimming.

“Even Beth hasn’t picked up Nick’s Signals,” Mia says now. “And, obviously, he hasn’t heard her. Her precautions have paid off. But I wonder. Do you guys think Arion’s Song brought Nick out of hiding?” Mia glances at Bo. “Is it possible he’s . . . as enamored with her Song as you are? Or is this a vendetta, like you said?”

“There’s something else,” I say quietly. “Beth was in love with my friend Logan.”

“So that’s what Nick was freaking about!” Cord exclaims. “His brother. Oh man.”

“Your
friend
. Right,” Bo says. “That’s how
you
think of Logan. But what does he think? Actually—you don’t need to answer that. I’ve seen the way he looks at you.”

“Logan
is
my friend. He likes to goof around, though, so maybe, if Nick is ‘listening,’ he might have gotten the idea, like you did, that Logan has feelings for me.”

I don’t say anything about my feelings for Logan.

“And if Logan does have a thing for you”—Cord looks at Bo apologetically—“and Nick is still pissed because Beth was into his brother, you’re saying Nick might want to punish Logan as well. Maybe by hurting you.” My face grows hot, but I nod.

“Bottom line,” Jordan says. “If Nick kills Arion, he hurts Bo. He hurts his brother. Bonus: he gets Arion’s breath. One, two,
three
birds, one stone. Convenient, bro, your girl is the stone as well as a bird.”

Swiftly, Bo turns on Jordan—but Jordan only stares him down coolly.

Cord says, “Anything that inspires Nick is fuel for a friggin’ hot fire. The more we know the better. Nick’s murdering people and trying to make it look like we’re responsible. He’s trying to expose us. We’re
all
birds, J.”

“Personally, I can’t wait to fuck the guy up,” Jordan says. “What’s the plan?”

“First off, we have to protect Arion,” Cord says. “She can’t possibly defend herself against a Siren.”

“Right, so she definitely shouldn’t be dating one,” Jordan mutters.

Abruptly, I get up and begin clearing the table. Debating about whether or not they should tell their father about the kayakers, Cord, Mia, and Bo drift into the living room.

Their father.
What else have they told him? Have they told him about me?

What’s he like? The famous Professor Summers. Is he like Bo? Like Cord? Or is he more like Jordan?

Our father took the girl.

Jordan. He’s lagged behind the others, and I can’t resist asking, “What do you have against me?”

“Everything,” Jordan says through slightly clenched teeth. “I don’t want my brother to become a killer.”

“Little late for that, isn’t it?” I retort, then nearly drop a plate because my hands are shaking.

Jordan’s sharp smile shows up. “Let me rephrase that. I don’t want my brother shitting where he sleeps. Where
I
sleep.”

“
Excuse
me?”

“We have too many suspicious eyes on us already. We’ve got to keep the peninsula clean. If my brother decides to make a meal of you here on Rock Hook—”

“Hold on. You’re saying—Bo’s never killed anyone here. But—”

“Why, you got a death wish? ’Cause I’d be happy to help you with that. Only thing stopping me is the fact that you’re Bo’s latest experiment with the ‘real world’—the mortal world. An experiment which will fail, by the way, because sooner or later?”

Jordan lets his words dangle in the air like bait.

I take it. “What?”

“He’s gonna go for that sweet breath you’re so damn careless with.” Jordan’s eyes glitter. “And on that day, pretty Arion bird? I’ll envy him.”