She’ssinging.
I can’t make out the tune, but the humming is as sweet as a sparrow welcoming the morning. It draws me out of the shadows to follow, far enough behind her to stay out of sight.
With purpose, she walks to the edge of the water where an old canoe is tipped over and—what does she think she’sdoing?
Marina groans, pushing the thing into the water with a triumphant splash, and ungracefully throws herself inside. Her sweet song is soon replaced by cursing as she struggles to paddle the unwieldy thing.
Introductions can wait. I chuckle to myself, gliding unnoticed into the water until my body lines up with the length of the boat. It’s tricky to hook my claws to the bow, but once I do, the canoe gets the extra push it needs. It gives me a moment to think about what in the world I’m going to say to this woman.
She takes her time, paddling toward the old camping dock. I manage to keep the canoe steady as she stands haphazardly and climbs ashore.
Camp Mangrove.
I’ve wandered this little inlet from end to end more times than I’d like to admit. But now, seeing her in the place we met all those years ago—well, I’m breathless.
Marina’s song lures me like a siren tempting a sailor into the waves. Reduced to a mindless fool, I swim along the edge of the water until I reach the collection of rocks she’s settled on. There’s a tranquility to her song that blends with the sounds of the crickets and flow of the water.
It’s as if what’s left of Camp Mangrove is as happy to see her as I am. Who could blame it?
Her voice cracks a little,
“Damn it,” she curses softly. Her self-deprecation is all that’s needed to stamp away my stalling. I rise from the water and offer what I hope will be a familiar grin.
“It sounded good from where I was standing.” The words tumble out as I meet her pretty, wide eyes.
Her body sways forward, and I brace myself for the feeling of her arms, to hear how she missed me, how glad she is that I waited.
Marina’s body moves into mine, but not in the warm greeting I anticipated. She falls for me alright, but it’s not head over heels. It’sunconscious.
Chapter 5
Marina
Note to self: the next time you get an urge to be bold and explore your old campground at night, maybe don’t?
I guess it’s my own fault for being too distracted by the silly lyrics in my head to notice my surroundings. Yeah, I came out here to get lost in the thrall of inspiration, but I can’t exactly finish my song if I’mdead.
My eyes feel as if they’re covered in sand, heavy and unwilling to open. I’m being carried, I know that much, but whether it’s back to my cabin or to the Great Beyond is yet to be determined.
The only thing I can remember is … something I don’t think I can acknowledge because it’s impossible. I may have come out here to reconnect with the past, but I won’t let my imagination take over this time, as much as I would like to.
“You’re awake.” The stranger’s voice is like a warm blanket. His tone is friendly and familiar, like he’s someone I’ve known my entire life. I keep my eyes closed tight.
The person I want to see when I open them doesn’t exist. “I—” I begin, dazed, but warm in his arms, “I don’t remember anything.”
But that’s a lie.
I remember green and blue scales shining in the moonlight, but I’mobviouslynot telling him that. Still, the image pulses in my memory, making my heart race and race. I can’t piece it together. What I think I saw isn’t even possible, is it?
No.
Blinking in the night, I finally turn my gaze to my rescuer. Slowly, his blurry frame comes into focus. He’s gangly with sandy blond hair. More than that, there’s something strange about him. something I can’t place.
We’re in the old first aid cabin—at least, I think so? It’s covered in cobwebs and graffiti. The wood looks waterlogged, and there’s a bed I’m grateful he hasn’t set me upon.
“It’s gross in here.” It’s all I can manage to say, and a deep rumble of a laugh rises from his chest.
“I wasn’t sure if you hit your head, and didn’t know where else to take you,” he remarks, still holding me tightly. “One non-gross location coming right up Ma—miss.”
