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Authors: Merrie Destefano

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BOOK: Fathom
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Chapter 14

 

 

 

Caleb:

I didn’t want to go back to the house, not after seeing Kira at the beach this morning. For a moment, it had been like sunshine and lightning. I had taken her by the hand, then felt the Burning stir unexpectedly within me, pushing my pheromones to the surface. As a result, I commanded her to meet me, all the while longing to pull her into my arms.

I never imagined I would desire her in that way—some other human, maybe, but never her.

Then I saw the dead seals on the beach and I knew I had to warn the others.

The Hinquememem had followed us here.

As soon as I got back to our dwelling, I told everyone what had happened and what I had seen. I described the carnage on the beach, unmistakably the handiwork of our nemesis. I told them how many seals had been killed and maimed, all as a warning to us. Sorcha and Mare gaped at me with wide, unbelieving eyes, then they rushed onto the balcony and stared down at the beach, as if the beast had already found us and was lumbering up the stairs. All of them seemed terrified, even Riley, though she tried hard to hide it.

She stiffened her back, held up a hand when the boys tried to go out on the balcony too. “The beast isn’t out there!” she said. “It’s not even hungry if it ate those seals. We’re safe.”

Lynn rose from the sofa, her lips the color of ash, her blonde braids twisted with seaweed. Weak and broken-hearted, she was the only one brave enough to confront Riley. “None of us are safe, still we knew that when we made this journey,” she said. “But what about Kira, the girl from the legend?”

“What about her?”

“We’ve hastened her destiny by luring that beast here.”

My skin bristled at Lynn’s words. That was exactly what I had been thinking.

“You don’t really believe that, do you?” Riley asked with a laugh. “No matter what the Elders say, destiny can’t be changed.” She scanned the room, her eyes resting on each one of us. “If we lured the beast here, then we are
fulfilling
Kira’s destiny, not altering it.”

Sorcha and Mare stood in the doorway, a question in their eyes, as if they weren’t sure whether they should believe her. Lynn shook her head in defiance, blonde braids catching the afternoon sun, a blinding gesture that none of us could ignore.

“We’re not supposed to intervene in the lives of humans,” she said. “You’re daring the gods with words like that.”

Riley laughed again. “Which gods? The sea gods or the temple gods?” She lowered her voice and leaned closer to Lynn. “Or maybe the gods of the chasm deep who put the curse on the Hinquememem in the first place.”

A collective gasp sounded in the room.

Mare’s eyes brimmed with tears. “You’re not supposed to say that name.
Ever
.”

“I’m not afraid of the beast,” Riley answered quickly, but there was a new edge to her voice and a tremor in her hand.

“You should be afraid,” I said, turmoil wrestling inside me. “And now we’ve broken one of the Elders’ high rules. If they find out, we could be branded and exiled, without home or family—”

“They aren’t going to find out!” she said, her gazing burning through me. “Unless one of
us
tells them.”

I met her gaze but didn’t speak what was on my heart. I didn’t believe her blasphemous words. Whether we meant to or not, we’d already changed Kira’s destiny—we’d brought it a step nearer. Guilt rolled over me in a crashing, life-numbing wave. I was the one who had wanted to come to Crescent Moon Bay. I had convinced both Ethan and Lynn to make the trip—twice in one season. They didn’t have to come, they had already chosen their mates. Because of me, he was now dead.

None of us would be here if it wasn’t for me.

And, quite possibly, because I had longed to see her so much, now Kira would be dead in a few days as well.

 

Chapter 15

 

 

 

Kira:

There should be some sort of handbook for what to do when you almost get suspended from school in Crescent Moon Bay. Something like, “The minute you get out of your last class, don’t pass
GO
and don’t collect two hundred dollars. Just run all the way home and see if you can beat the gossip.”

Because that’s what I had to do. Run. All the way home.

I flew up the driveway, glad when I saw Gram working in the garden—something she rarely does—her gloves covered in dirt and a tall stack of weeds at her side. That meant she had been outside for at least an hour or two. I dashed in the back door and checked the phone for messages.

Two were blinking.

I was trying to catch my breath and it felt like my chest was going to explode.

I turned down the volume on the phone and listened to the messages.

I heard the principal’s voice and automatically hit the
DELETE
button. A quick glance out the window told me that Gram was still pulling weeds. I listened to the second message—from the school guidance counselor—and erased it too.

The pressure continued to build, but I didn’t have time to think about it.

A poem started to blossom inside me, a thick pool of words pressing against my skin, making me want to grab a pen and let it all out. Metaphors and similes tumbled around inside my head, all in a rugged fast meter where nothing rhymed, the words flowing like river water over my tongue. It was all about danger and missed chances and lips that would never be kissed. But I didn’t have time to stop and write. Instead I spread my books on the kitchen table—usually I do my homework in my bedroom, but today I had to be front and center. I had to be as perfect as all the Paper Dolls. The words settled on the kitchen floor; there they continued rising like a gentle tide as I started dinner. They tickled my ankles, then my hips. By the time Gram came up the steps, they had filled the room and were just about to sweep me out one of the windows.

I couldn’t make sense of them anymore, still they kept coming, words of desire and rebellion. They were about to cover my head.

Then Gram opened the door and they all rushed outside, leaving me behind.

 


 

Dad and Gram were eating dinner—grilled tilapia with mashed potatoes and salad—and throughout the meal, Gram kept telling us a Scottish legend about the
Na Fir Ghorm
. I’m not sure why, but I lost track of time and got caught up in her story. Maybe because it had tragic poetic elements—blue-skinned mermen who lived in underwater caves and had the power to sink ships. Merciless and capricious, they teased sailors with riddles and rhymes before either drowning them or turning them into slaves. I found myself imagining what it would be like to try and outwit them. Gram wagged her finger in the air as she talked, as if this was a true story, but when she wasn’t looking Dad tossed me a wink.

That was when I realized what time it was.

I grinned back at him as I started cleaning up all the plates they weren’t using. Then I grabbed the phone and headed into my room. I hoped I didn’t look suspicious—I’d forced myself to eat only one plate of fish, even though I wanted four. Maybe when they were done, I could sneak a couple of left-over fillets from the fridge.

I stood in my room, door closed, staring at posters of surfing competitions and Olympic gold-medalist swimmers, waiting for Sean to answer the phone.

Ringing. It was ringing. Don’t go to voicemail, please.

I was hoping Sean’s dad wouldn’t answer the phone. He could wreck everything tonight if he decided to talk to my dad.

Sean’s dad was the town sheriff. Badge and all. He was a nice guy, I guess, it just took me a long time to see him that way. He’d been in charge of the investigation when my mother committed the Crescent Moon Bay Crime of the Century, and in reality, he had worked really hard to keep family photos out of the press. He was our next-door neighbor even back then, so he knew Dad was innocent. But there had been some scary moments. I was pretty young, but I still remember hearing that Dad could have been put in jail. I thought I might lose him—like my mom and Katie—and for some reason, I blamed Mr. O’Brien, Sean’s dad, because he had been over here all the time, talking to Dad about it.

And after that, there had been Dad’s depression and his drinking.

Mr. O’Brien brought Dad home in the squad car several times for DUIs. After that Dad lost his license for a year. That was when Gram came to live with us.

So, I really didn’t want to talk to Mr. O’Brien right now. I kept hoping that Sean would pick up the phone soon and that he would find some way to go to the party.

Still ringing.

I was just about to hang up and walk over to his house, when somebody picked up.

“Hello.” It was Sean.

I let out a long sigh and leaned against the wall.

“Can you go tonight?” I asked, cupping my hand around the phone, as if anyone was listening. They weren’t. They were still in the other room, finishing dinner.

He laughed. Not in a good way.

“Sean?”

“Absolutely, no way. Can’t even take out the garbage. Not that I offered, but still.”

“Crap. I really wanted—I mean, I was hoping—I don’t want to go to the party without you.” Couldn’t really say what I had wanted. Couldn’t tell him what I had been hoping.

“Sorry, Kira, but really, if I had to choose, I’m glad I did what I did today. You’d be in a lot more trouble if that punch of yours had made it to Lucy’s face. By the way, when did you learn to fight?” He laughed again, the good way this time. I wished I was there with him, wished I could see the expression on his face. “You had her pinned up against the lockers like you meant serious business—”

I crossed the room and laid down on my bed.

“I’m surprised Lucy didn’t pee her pants—”

Now he had me laughing. “Was it scary?”

“Scary?” He paused, his voice lowered an octave. “I wouldn’t call it scary.”

A shiver danced on my skin. I could hear what he wasn’t saying. We were crossing into some unknown territory together, me with my wild behavior today, him with the things he wouldn’t say out loud. Is this what it’s like to grow up? All these strange feelings and urges, all bottled up, adults trying to keep us under control so we don’t accidentally kill each other.

“Can you sneak out?” I whispered. As if his dad was on another line, waiting to find out what we were doing.

“I don’t know, Kira.”

“Please? Pretty, pretty please? We could come home as early as you want. Brianna could pick us up.”

He was quiet. He was thinking. That’s how Sean was. I planned and he thought about things for a long time. Together, we were slightly dangerous.

“What did your dad say about all of this?” he asked.

“He doesn’t know.”

“You know you can’t keep it a secret.”

Of course, I knew that. Nothing was a secret in Crescent Moon Bay. Not for longer than ten minutes. “Please,” I said again.

More quiet. More thinking. I wondered if he knew how much I wanted to see him tonight. I ran my thumb along my chin and my lower lip, wondering what it would feel like to kiss him.

“Okay.”

I sat up. Not believing what I just heard. My heart hammered in my chest and I was suddenly afraid of what might happen tonight. My mouth was dry and I tried to swallow.

“You still there?” he asked.

“Yeah. I’m just surprised. I mean, what if your dad catches you?”

“So what?” he asked. “I’m already grounded. What’s he gonna do, put me in jail?”

We both laughed.

“I’ll call Brianna. Can you be here in half an hour?” I asked. I still had to get permission and change my clothes. I was looking at myself in the mirror, wondering what I should do with my hair, what I should wear.

“Absolutely,” he said, his voice like velvet.

I was smiling when we hung up. Sean was still my best friend. I didn’t have anything to worry about. Even if my feelings were out of control. Somehow, having him with me tonight was going to make everything okay.

 

Chapter 16

 

 

 

Kira:

My mother was haunting me, seven days a week now. She lurked in every mirror and picture frame. I’d really rather see my own face again. It was a little bit like having your identity stolen.

I had on a black mini dress and sandals, my hair hung loose in a waist-long tumble of black waves, Gram’s Celtic cross around my neck. I wished I had a full sleeve tattoo like that girl in the shop yesterday—Mean Girl. With a sleeve tattoo, you wouldn’t notice how pale I was. All you would see was that ink, and then maybe you’d notice my long hair.

You might even miss my resemblance to the dead.

So I hid my face behind red lipstick and black mascara—both birthday presents from my cousin, Celia. I didn’t wear make-up very often and the effect was pretty dramatic. If I had been Brianna or one of the other girls at school, I’d probably be wearing high heels, but I still had too much tomboy in me. I was never going to be a Paper Doll, never cover my face with thick make-up or spend hours straightening my hair. Never join clubs or play team sports.

Never have a heart-to-heart with my mom before I went out on a date.

Never borrow one of my sister’s dresses or ask her for advice about boys.

Sean would be here in a minute.

I had to quit pretending that we were going on a date. He never said we were, so I needed to drop it. Besides, Brianna was picking us up, like we were two little kids. Who goes on a date when another girl is driving?

No one, that’s who.

I turned up my stereo, closed my eyes and let the music take over. Everything that had happened today faded away. All I could think about was the party. Wild energy charged through me, like I wanted to dance all night long, like I wanted to go swimming so far out in the ocean that I reached Japan.

I wanted my life to change.

I didn’t want to be safe anymore.

I opened my drawer and pulled out that secret bottle of Katie’s perfume, twisted off the cap and touched it once behind each ear lobe. “For luck,” I whispered to the six-year-old ghost who might or might not be in my room right now. I tried not to think about my sister who would never go out on a first date or wonder what to wear to a party. With a catch in my throat, I slid on a pair of silver hoop earrings, then glanced in the mirror. My skin was still as pale as the moon—something that really made me stand out in this tourist beach community—but tonight was the first time that I realized it looked good. A tiny bit gothic, like maybe I’d been born to live in some magical world where the sun didn’t shine. I imagined myself in a fog-drenched Irish village by the sea, a lighthouse cutting broad beams of light out toward the ocean, guiding ships back to the shore.

BOOK: Fathom
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