Even as I tried, I wasn’t sure I could do it. I’d never tried this before, had never even known it was possible. But some latent instinct was demanding that I tap into the energy of the current—of the ocean itself—before it was too late.
Closing my eyes, I focused everything I had into channeling strength from the water. I could almost see its energy—a glowing, cerulean light that wove through the whole world around me. Kind of like a net, it permeated all parts of the ocean as far as I could see. I reached out to touch it, felt a jolt rip through my body that was unlike anything I’d ever felt before—a million times more powerful than what it would feel like to get hit by one of my lightning bolts. Or at least, what I imagined it would feel like.
Ignoring the pain of touching a million live wires, I focused instead on drawing the energy inside of me. On capitalizing on the strength, the potency, that the ocean was offering me.
I continued moving, and each foot of the bright blue electric net zapped me, burned me, but also somehow gave me the strength to go on even as it shocked me. I could feel the intensity of the jolts coursing through my body, feel them making my journey easier. Already, I was moving faster, the swish of my tail no longer an excruciating exercise but more like slogging through Jell-O than swimming.
The shark came at me again, this time trying to brush against me with its long, sleek body. It was testing me, I knew, and I braced myself for the feel of it—cold and a little bit prickly against my sensitive mermaid skin—but I felt nothing. Except an odd jolt that added more heat to the flame burning inside of me.
The shark must have felt something else, however, because that one lengthy touch had him swimming in the opposite direction as fast as he could. Part of me wondered if he was just trying to build up speed—if he was going to come at me with the full-power attack from the side that great whites were known for. I really didn’t want to be shaken to death in the grip of some shark’s rows upon rows of teeth.
Just the thought of it had me speeding up again, processing more and more energy as I moved faster and faster through this strange new power interlace with the ocean. I reached the edges of Kona’s territory a few minutes later, a fact that shocked me as I would have sworn I was nearly an hour away. Maybe I was even worse at this underwater-navigation thing than I’d thought I was.
Either way, I’d never been so relieved to see any place in my entire life.
Guards met me at the border. They took one look at my injuries and called for help. Within minutes, I was carried through a long, dark passage that led back to the surface to a small land clinic not far from Ari’s dwelling. They’d taken me to Kona’s brother’s territory because the clinic was much closer than anything in Kona’s waters.
Nothing like being the girlfriend of the selkie crown prince to have everyone jumping to keep you alive.
It’s not like I was in any position to argue, though. The influx of energy I’d gotten from the ocean had faded as I swam those last miles, until I was now so exhausted and woozy that I could barely keep my eyes open as the healer examined me. I think the only thing keeping me awake was the shivers racking my body. I was freezing.
Whatever the healer found must have alarmed him, because the next thing I knew I was getting a blood transfusion—directly from his arm to mine. Which, I admit, would have totally grossed out my human side if I was coherent enough to fully understand what was going on. As it was, I was hanging on to consciousness by a thread and didn’t have the energy to argue about something that was pretty common practice down here.
In the ocean, there is strength in blood, and in bloodlines. The purer your blood, the stronger it is—and the more talents you have. That’s why I have such power—because my mother, Cecily, had even more and passed much of it on to me. Most healers have a lot of talent and the strongest blood around—it’s where their healing talent comes from. By sharing his blood with me, my healer was giving me an infusion of pure, unadulterated strength. Kind of what I imagined a speed cocktail would be like, only a lot healthier.
As soon as the blood hit my veins, I started to feel better. Less dizzy, more focused, though my tail still burned like hell itself. Of course, that could be because he was prodding at it and muttering a bunch of things I would have been better off not hearing. Things like near amputation of caudal fin, breach of membranes, lucky to be alive … Needless to say, his bedside manner left a lot to be desired.
Once the transfusion was over, the healer pulled out a couple of very big, very long needles, and that’s when I nearly lost it. There are only two things in the world I’m truly afraid of without just cause—needles and sharks (although after having almost being eaten by one, I was going to start considering my fear of sharks justified).
“What are you planning to do with those?” I demanded, and this time I was shaking for a whole different reason than blood loss.“One’s a painkiller. It will stop you from feeling me clean out your wound and stitch you up. The other is an antibiotic shot, to stop infection.”
“Can’t I just take pills?” I babbled. “I swear, if it keeps you from jabbing me with that thing, I will never miss a dose. Ever.”
He gave me a droll look. “You’re going to be in the ocean. It’s kind of hard to keep pills dry down there.”
“Oh, right.” Crap, crap, crap. I so don’t want to do this.
“Come on, Tempest. Any maid who can take on Tiamat can surely handle a little shot.” Relief rushed through me as I heard Kona’s voice.
I turned to face him and was shocked at how haggard he looked. He was trying to put on a smile for my sake, I could tell, but his eyes wore the pinched look he got only when he was really upset. Plus, when he reached out to grab my hand, he was trembling worse than I was.
“You got here fast.”
“Yeah. That tends to happen when I hear my girlfriend got herself injured.” He dropped a kiss on my forehead before settling in beside me, his arm wrapped around my waist. “I can’t believe you have such a hard time staying out of trouble, Tempest.”
That got my back up a little. “I wasn’t exactly looking for it, Kona.”
“I know, baby. I know.” He skimmed his lips over my hair. “How is she doing, Zarek?” he asked the healer.
Again, that little niggle of annoyance. “I’m sitting right here, you know.”
“Yes, well, you’ve been so busy complaining about those shots, I wasn’t sure you were aware that you’d been cut.”
“I’m the one who had to swim hundreds of miles that way—I think I know better than you what’s wrong with me,” I snapped at him. As I did, I was a little amazed. Were Kona and I fighting? We never fought. Not like this, obnoxious little volleys fired at each other through clenched teeth.
I turned around and looked at Kona, really looked at him, and realized that behind the worry was an anger I’d never seen from him before. Kona was furious, and if the gleam in his dark eyes was anything to go by, he was furious with me.
My mind immediately went back to those minutes with Mark. Did Kona know? I wasn’t sure how he could. But then again, I was reminded often that Kona’s reach was farther than I ever suspected.
God, that’s why I didn’t do this kind of thing. I didn’t date one guy and kiss another—or at least I never had before I met Kona eight months ago. Of course, then everything had been the other way around: I’d been dating Mark and sneaking out with Kona. Something I had felt equally guilty about.