Page 7 of Shark’s Rise

“So, anyway…yeah. I just wanted to say that.”

I stepped back. “Very well.” They were the only two words that came to mind—but they were far from the right ones.

“Oh! Wait! And I also wanted to give you this!”

She dug into the pocket of her boxy blazer. I would’ve thought the pockets on the ill-fitting jacket-skirt combo were just for show, but she popped the flap open at the hip and fished out a small parcel. She handed it to me with a beaming smile, like a schoolgirl giving her secret crush a bracelet she’d made during study hall.

“I hope you like it.” She clasped her hands together under her chin and waited for me to open the tissue paper bundle. The wad looked like something Vela would leave under her pillow for the Tooth Fairy.

I was genuinely concerned to discover what was inside. “I…umm…don’t think I can accept this, Terryn.” Again, the only words I could muster. Again, feeling like a thousand kinds of weird. “It seems inappropriate, given our professional relationship. I don’t want there to be—”

“Open it.”

She cut me off so abruptly, and in such a different—and alarming—tone of voice, my own gaze started doing strange things. I shot it from the insane woman in front of me to the door and then back again. How many steps would it take for me to get the fuck away from this crazy train and then call security? I was rarely caught off guard by another person—but this nutcase had done the job with her two-word sentence. Or command, as the case had been.

I fumbled with the tissue wrapping, attempting to distract my gaze anywhere but her avid face. Not a wise choice. When had Terryn gotten so thin? She was looking particularly boney today—but I made a habit of not noticing her most days, so it could’ve been something that had been happening over the last month or longer. Was she sick beyond her obvious mental instability?

“I guess I got a little crazy.” She snorted. “With the tape, I mean.”

Good thing she cleared that up.

“I like to make people work for it, you know?” She snorted again. It was nearly an inhuman sound. I did my best to ignore it while fighting through the layers upon layers of tape and tissue.

Finally, I began unrolling what was inside. Once I got to the center, I tried making sense of what I was looking at.

“What the hell?”

I darted my glare to my mousey assistant.

“Do you love it?” She pushed her steepled hands over her lips. “After all the time we’ve worked so closely with one another, I’ve gotten to know your dark sense of humor, Sebastian. I knew you would get a chuckle out of it.”

I pushed out harsh air through my nostrils. “You give me more credit than I deserve. And it’s Mr. Shark, Terryn.”

“Of course, of course! Sorry. We should keep up appearances.” She gave me a strange little salute, giving me time to turn the object over and over between my fingers. It appeared to be a keychain, but I wasn’t sure.

“What is this?” There was a ring with links that were connected to other objects. But beyond that was where my confusion started. “Is this a…tooth of some sort? Maybe an animal’s tooth?”

Terryn nodded her head vigorously. Her eyes were so bright, it was like she’d just presented me with the Hope Diamond. “Guess what kind. Guess!”

“I’m not going to guess, Ter—”

“It’s a shark’s tooth!”

“How original,” I muttered before noticing two more charms on the ring. “And what are these other charms?”

While I held them closer for a better view, my assistant’s posture stiffened. Her gaze’s cartoon-worthy sparkles were a little dimmer. What was this? Nervousness, maybe? Or was that just me?

I scrutinized the little wooden carving, turning it between my thumb and forefinger. Schooling my features was the greatest exercise in restraint I had been challenged with all week. That was saying a lot, considering the week I’d had. Shockingly, my fingers didn’t tremble as I examined the intricacies of the miniature work of art.

And that was what it was…really. Somewhere, there was a very talented artist who’d taken a small piece of wood and painstakingly carved it into a very detailed, very accurate, likeness of a piranha. How something like that was even possible was a marvel of its own—but this was not the time to be admiring someone’s artistry.

I had bigger fish to fry.

Did I really just go there?

“Terryn?” Her name sprang off my tongue as more of a warning than a question. I wasn’t a damn bit sorry.

“Do you love it? Can you believe the detail?” She was almost vibrating with excitement.