Tempest's Legacy

Page 3

“There’s no Anyan,” I replied heatedly. “And I’m stupid if I think there is. Anyan is never here, first of all. Plus, he’s out of my league. And he’s never seen me as anything other than something to take care of. I may have issues, Iris, but they’re not daddy issues; I don’t want to be with a man who thinks he needs to babysit me. Besides, I have to deal with how I feel about Ryu without taking Anyan into consideration. I owe Ryu more than that.”
“Do you? Owe Ryu more than that? And would you feel this way about Anyan,” she continued, “if you already felt what Ryu wants you to feel for him?”
I made a face at Iris. “I don’t know what I feel. And I certainly can’t base my feelings for the bloodsucker based on my feelings for the hellhound who apparently doesn’t even know I exist. Besides, there’s no issue. Not yet, at least. Ryu’s in Boston; I’m in Rockabill; Anyan is in absentia. So I’ll just keep ignoring everything till I get walloped with it. Then I’ll panic and run to you.”
Iris laughed. “Your plans always suck, Jane. But you know I’ll be there when you need me.”
And I did. Unlike Ryu’s cryptic statement, I knew exactly what Iris meant. She meant she was my friend and would be there when I needed her, just as she had been every day for months. I smiled at her and reached over to touch her hand.
“Thanks, lady. You know I love you.”
The succubus laughed. “I know. You tell me every time you get drunk.”
“To drunken declarations of affection,” I said, holding my drink up to her. We clinked glasses, bringing everyone into the toast.
I smiled at my friends, knowing how lucky I was to have them. We all talked for another hour, until the pregnant lady called it quits and we went our separate ways. Tracy and Grizzie left first, then Iris trailed off after our swinging minister and his wife. When Sarah and Marcus said good night, I did, too. Then I went to the only other thing I loved as much as my friends and family.
My ocean.
CHAPTER TWO
The next day found me basking on my favorite flat rock, soaking up the rays of a late-afternoon sun draped in plump repose across the horizon.
It was only in the past month that I’d really mastered my invisibility glamour and could swim during the day. Now that I could be in my ocean at any time without fear of discovery, I’d found that there was no heaven so pleasurable as lying on a warm rock jutting up from the shallows, the sea foam frothing at arm’s reach.
That said, I may have looked peaceful—but I was secretly working. Today was my official “day off,” both from my job and from my magical training. But after going out the night before I wasn’t going to waste another big chunk of time. So while I lay, outwardly quiescent, I practiced manifesting little bursts of power that scooped and released small handfuls of water near my head. It took a lot of control and a very dense power weave to hold fluid, so the exercise was actually very demanding.
“You’re supposed to be resting, Jane,” came an oil-slick voice from somewhere near my feet. I raised my head petulantly, frowning toward my unwanted visitor. It was my kelpie friend Trill. Kelpies were two-formed, like selkies, only instead of turning into a seal like my mom had, Trill turned into a weird little underwater pony. She was currently in her humanoid form, all the better to bask with me.
“I am resting,” I said. “I’m horizontal, ain’t I?”
“From what I’ve heard, you do a lot of things horizontally that aren’t resting.”
“Ha-ha, very funny. Move over, Ricky Gervais… here comes Kelpie Trill!”
Trill emitted a strange grating sound it had taken me forever to realize was actually her version of a girlish giggle.
“Everything ‘pony’ is better. Especially pony-style.”
I laid my head back down, squeezing my eyes shut. “Ohmigod, are you talking about pony sex? ’Cause if you are, I think you may have ruined me for life.”
Just thinking about two little kelpies going at it made me shudder.
Trill grated her harsh giggle at me again, then I heard her haul herself out of the water. I meeped my protest when she dripped cold droplets over my sun-warmed flesh. The kelpie’s pearl-gray skin gleamed dully in the sunlight, her black-nailed hands—cold from the sea—prodding me like frozen brands to move over and make room. For a moment, too comfortable to budge, I refused. Until she threatened to wring her green seaweed hair out on my belly and I finally made way so Trill could share my rock.
We lay in companionable silence, drowsing together for at least a half hour. But I knew such peace couldn’t last, and soon enough Trill’s slippery voice eeled its way through my respite.
“How are you feeling this week?”
From the time I’d met Trill, she’d been my friend and my swimming buddy. After everything that had happened in Boston, however, she’d also taken it upon herself to be my therapist.
I wish I could say I didn’t need her help, but I knew better.
If I was honest, after Boston I’d been pretty fucked up. Don’t get me wrong, I knew that I was really lucky. Unlike the two women we’d been searching for, Edie and Felicia, I was alive. I didn’t bear a single physical scar from the beating Graeme, the rapist incubus, had dealt me. I looked like the exact same Jane True who’d gone off for a romantic Valentine’s Day weekend with her boyfriend.
But I wasn’t that Jane True, not anymore.
There were moments, especially when I was with my friends or when I was training, that I remembered how to feel without feeling guilty. But when alone, my thoughts could be heavy.
I’d always known life wasn’t fair. Losing my mom and Jason had taught me early that bad things happened to decent people not because they deserved it, but because life was arbitrary and death capricious. But I hadn’t thought of the universe as cruel until last February. Seeing the look in Graeme’s eyes as he bit through my lip, the lack of emotion on Phaedra’s face as she’d hacked off Conleth’s head, and Conleth’s own expression as he’d pleaded with me for help just before he died… All these things had done a number on me. I hadn’t been able to help anyone, not even myself, and certainly not the two women who’d died at Graeme’s hands because we weren’t smart or fast enough to save them.
And then all the various players—except the dead, of course—had just gone back to their normal lives. Ryu had returned to Boston, I’d returned to Rockabill, and Phaedra and her lot had returned to their Compound. Phaedra was Alfar, and her lies about Conleth being responsible for all the murders—both in Boston and in the Borderland city of Chicago—had been believed. Ryu hadn’t even attempted to tell the truth, knowing that Alfar would side with Alfar; that the king and queen would never turn against Jarl and his crony Phaedra.
And so my understanding of a capricious universe had transformed itself into something darker, more sinister. Life wasn’t just unfair… it was cruel. The weak would fall to the strong, and no one—no higher power—stood in judgment.
And I’d finally realized that I was one of the weak.
It’s not like I’d ever been powerful. As a human I was small and physically vulnerable. I’d never been a fighter, not in the physical sense. Therefore, learning of my selkie blood had meant I’d gained strengths I’d never dreamed of having. But I’d also been thrown into a world that had no laws, no conscience. Power was all that was understood. I was learning, gradually, that I had far more elemental force at my disposal than I could easily conceive of, but what did having power matter when I was afraid to use it?
In other words, I had been raised a law-abiding member of human society, used to thinking in terms of social contracts, the greater good, and “if it harm none.” All of which were values that made me weak in a supernatural society that took pleasure indulging in lashings of the old ultraviolence.
So now I’m stuck talking about my “feelings,” I thought. As if they ever change…
As if on cue, Trill turned on her side to face me. “How are you feeling this week?” she repeated.
I nearly sighed, but stopped myself. Time to put on my game face.
“I’m good, actually. This week was really good. Quiet, and… normal. I’m superexcited about Grizzie and Tracy. And we got some books in that I’ve been excited about…”
Trill didn’t respond. She just listened, impassively, as I babbled nervously.
“… Um, and I feel good about what I learned this week, in training. I feel like I’m getting stronger, which is awesome.”
“Stronger?”
“Yeah, stronger. No offense, but it felt good when I won our duel. I felt… badass.”
Trill’s flat nose wrinkled and her mouth gaped in her kelpie version of a grin. “You did win, certainly. But soon we’ll take your training to the water, and you’ll really see what I can do.”
“Yea!” I squeaked, like a little kid just told she got to go to the circus. I really wanted to start training in the water. But because my greatest threats were coming from the land, they wanted me strong there first.