“Your people just…abandoned their old home for a new one?” Vasil asked.
“A lot of them, yeah. Probably because even then Earth was pretty run down and worn out. It’s not a very nice place, at least in my experience.” She pushed herself to her feet and brushed the sand from her backside, catching Vasil’s eyes straying to follow her hands. “Anyway, did you have any luck?”
“Only in obtaining food,” he replied, raising a tentacle. A large, hard-shelled creature dangled in his hold. It looked like a giant bug.
Theo wrinkled her nose, glad that, if nothing else, the creature wasn’t moving. “I’m not sure I want to know what that is.” She moved past him to the water and rinsed her hands in the surf. “And tonight, dinner is on me.”
“What do you mean?”
Grinning, she turned back to Vasil. “I went hunting today.”
The light came on at her wrist. “She stumbled across a bird by accident and blasted it near to pieces. It wasn’t hunting,” Kane said aloud.
“Way to steal my thunder, Kane,” Theo muttered.
“That’s what I’m here for, Theo.”
Brows lifting, Vasil moved toward their camp. Theo watched him, transfixed by the gracefulness of his tentacles as they flowed over the sand, by the muscles of his sides and back, by his powerful shoulders. He paused about halfway between the water and the camp and looked back at her.
“Do you have it propped near the fire right now?” he asked.
Theo blinked and straightened, dragging her eyes away from his well-defined muscles to meet his gaze. “Um, yes?”
“How long have you been building castles?”
“Not too long,” she said, closing the distance between them. “Why?”
“It is not going to cook evenly that way.”
“But I’ve seen you do the same with the fish.”
He continued forward. “You have to watch it. Have to turn it so both sides are cooked.”
“Oh.”
As he reached the fire, he sank down — she still found it fascinating that he could raise and lower his torso so smoothly, even after seeing it so many times — and picked up the stick by its bottom end. The side of the bird facing away from the fire still looked pink and raw. He twisted the stick in his palm to show the other side.
Theo stopped and cringed at the blackened, charred mess he’d revealed.
For a moment, her mind was blank; she simply stared at the bird, unable to make sense of what she was seeing. Then the dam burst inside her. Despair and defeat rushed out to flood her from head to toe. She’d been so damn proud of herself…
Her eyes filled with tears, and, no matter how hard she tried to stop it, her lower lip trembled. She hadn’t any shed tears since she was a little kid — Theodora Velenti was not a crier. What the hell was wrong with her?
“I guess I should have watched it, huh?” she said, voice thick and broken.
Vasil kept his gaze on her for a time; its weight was crushing. Finally, he set the charred meat aside and turned his body to face her fully.
“Have you ever done anything like this before?” he asked softly.
“No, but I’ve watched you do it and figured it couldn’t be that hard. But I…I ruined it, didn’t I?” she asked, glancing at the bird. Tears spilled from her eyes when she blinked. “How the hell am I going to survive out here if I can’t even feed myself? I’m useless. A-All I know how t-to do is-is fix machines, and half the time K-Kane gives m-me instructions on that.”
He closed the distance between them, and, despite her tears, she didn’t miss his hesitance as he reached for her. Even having just come from the sea, his hands were warm and solid when he settled them on her upper arms.
“Look at me and listen, human,” he said, keeping his voice soft but firm.
Theo sniffed and looked up at him with tear-blurred eyes.
“You were able to kill this animal, clean it, build a suitable fire, and start cooking it, all without ever having done so before. You made a mistake, Theo, but this is more than most could accomplish simply by watching.”
His palms slid down the backs of her arms, over her elbows, and along her forearms, until he took both her hands in his. He led her closer to the fire and guided her down onto her knees. Releasing one of her hands, picked up the stick and held the charred meat toward her.
“Draw your knife,” he said.
With a small frown, she did as he instructed.
He dipped his chin toward the bird. “Remove the burned portions.”
She nodded and drew in a deep breath before setting to work. She removed the ruined meat, carefully cutting away burned chunks and scraping off flakes of char until only raw meat remained.
“I only learned these things over the last two years,” he said when she was done. “Fire was not a part of my upbringing.”
“What do you mean? Don’t the other humans here cook this way?”
“Our peoples only truly began living together two years ago. Before that, we knew little of each other.” He twisted toward the fire and sank the butt of the stick into the sand outside the ring of stones. “Do not put the meat directly in the flames. It only needs the heat, not the fire.”
“Oh. Okay.”
“Theo?”
“Hmm?” She kept her gaze on the fire, which flared and danced wildly as her tears refracted its light.
He brought up a hand, cradling her chin in the crook between his forefinger and thumb; his fingertips brushed over one cheek, the pad of his thumb the other. He turned her face to look at him.
Her eyes widened; she could feel the strength in his fingers, and the points of his hard claws were against her skin, but he was somehow so gentle, so delicate in his hold.
“You did well, Theo,” he said. “Very well.”
Warmth blossomed in her chest. “I did?”
He nodded. “Yes.”
She smiled. “Good. Because cleaning that thing was disgusting.”
Vasil’s smile — which should have frightened her, were she sane — was wide, warm, and oddly charming. And he even had dimples! They were sexy as hell, too.
She caught her lower lip between her teeth as she stared at that smile. His nearness and touch did funny things to her body. The warmth that had begun in her chest had spread through the rest of her body, swirling low in her belly, to flood her core with liquid heat. Her nipples hardened to aching buds, and her sex clenched with sudden need.
Something brushed against her knee. She glanced down to see the tip of his tentacle slowly sliding up toward her thigh. The suction cups along its underside kissed her flesh as they moved, their touch both tickling and tantalizing, sending shivers through her. Still, the unfamiliar feel of it was enough to startle her. She scooted back, breaking all physical contact between them.
“So, um, you didn’t find anything?” she asked, averting her gaze.
From the corner of her eye, she saw his hand linger in the air where it had held her face a moment before. His posture seemed to sag as he slowly lowered his hand and withdrew his tentacle.
“Nothing but this hardshell,” he replied, shifting the creature into his hands.
Before she could get a good look at the numerous legs on the hardshell’s underside — he was holding it upside down — Vasil turned away from her. He leaned down, his torso blocking her view, and set to work.
A series of wet cracks and snaps were her only indication of what he was doing; she cringed at each sound.
Gah, I do not have the stomach for this life.
“Are you unsettled by my appearance?” Vasil asked without looking back at her.
“What?” Theo asked, startled by his blunt question.
“You have recoiled from me several times after I touched you.”
Frowning, Theo chewed on the inside of her cheek. Over the last few days, she’d come to appreciate Vasil’s forwardness; it possessed a sort of innocence that made it endearing rather than annoying. He didn’t skirt around th
e questions he wanted to ask or waste time trying to gently work toward the answers he sought, he just went right for it.
And in this case, she couldn’t help the shame his question roused in her; there’d been hurt layered deep within his tone.
“I just… I’m not…unattracted to you…” She ran her palm over her face and groaned. Why was it so hard to answer?
Because I don’t want to hurt him.
She cared about his feelings, cared about what he thought. Though she wasn’t ready to commit to the forever relationship he wanted, she was interested in him — more interested than she’d admitted to herself. She was attracted to him. But she didn’t know how to explain her simultaneous desire and trepidation without potentially hurting his feelings.
“You’re different, Vasil,” she said, looking at his back.
“So are you.” He turned his head slightly but didn’t quite look over his shoulder.
“Yeah, but you’ve had a couple years to get used to humans. I’ve had, what, a week to get used to you?” She absently fidgeted her fingers in her lap.
Unable to stand the anxiousness she was feeling, she moved a little closer to him, grabbed the end of one of his tentacles and drew it over her lap. The muscles beneath its skin contracted, reminding her of a tube being squeezed. She wrapped her hand around the tentacle and held it in place.
He twisted his torso to stare at her with wide, confused eyes. “I do not under—”
“Just shut up and let me, okay?” she said, dropping her gaze to his tentacle. Though he kept it still, it remained tense in her hold.
Tentatively, she ran her hands along it in petting motions, brushing away the bits of sand clinging to his skin. Though his tentacle seemed to have a bit more give than the rest of his body, its skin felt the same — velvet over steel. His suction cups resumed their soft kisses on her legs, sending repeated thrills through her.
Slowly, she slid one of her hands to the underside of his tentacle. The flesh there was different; smoother and softer, it was closer to the feel of human skin. She pressed a fingertip to one of his suction cups and traced its edges. A shudder coursed through the limb.
“Theo,” he rasped.
She didn’t meet his gaze until he covered her hand with his own, halting her fingers. His features were strained — jaw tight, brows low, pupils dilated.
“What?” she asked.
“It is best you stop before I extrude.”
“Ex…trude?” Her eyes dipped to his pelvis, where the slit she’d noticed the day he watched her bathe was once again partially open. It widened more the longer she stared.
Her eyes rounded with sudden realization, and she squeezed the tentacle in her hands. “Ooooh.”
Vasil offered a smile, the expression somehow forced and genuine simultaneously, and gently tugged on his tentacle. She let go of it, but he did not release her hand.
“I appreciate your efforts,” he said, “but I do not think you are ready for things to move that quickly between us.”
“Uh, yeah. I mean, no! I’m not. Not…”
Yet.
“As smooth as polished granite, Theo,” Kane whispered in her mind.
You better have been sleeping during all that, she sent back through the link
“I don’t recall any command being given…”
Boundaries, Kane! Learn them.
“Humans like to take things slow, correct?” Vasil asked.
“Um, yes,” Theo said, cheeks heating. “That’s part of the whole dating thing, you know?”
He gave her hand a soft squeeze. “I am willing to go slow, if that is what you need.”
Theo smiled up at him. That was…sweet. “Thank you.”
Vasil leaned closer to her; the sea scent of his skin mingled with the smells of burning wood and roasting meat to create an oddly sweet, intoxicating aroma. His eyes locked with hers as he caressed the side of her face with the back of one of his claws. “But know this, Theo: you will be mine.”
Chapter 8
Vasil fanned out his tentacles, slowing his forward momentum. He’d been swimming throughout the morning, keeping careful watch both for potential dangers and any features on the seafloor even vaguely familiar to him.
Five days had passed since Theo willingly touched his tentacle; it seemed a silly thing to mark the time by, so minor an occurrence, but it stood in his memory as a turning point. Every morning since, he’d gone out in search of clues to point him homeward, and every evening he’d returned to share a meal with her and deliver the same news — they were still as lost as they’d been on the first day.
Part of him embraced his failure; living with Theo on that beach was a life of contentment. He’d grown comfortable with their daily rhythms, and his want for her had only increased as days passed. He was skilled and knowledgeable enough to keep them alive and fed, and they’d both learn more over time. Vasil had no doubt they could survive there indefinitely — their camp was situated near the sea, with access to bountiful food and fresh water. The pod provided adequate shelter, and he was certain they could expand it as necessary given Theo’s expertise, her collection of advanced tools, and the jungle’s ample resources.
But he refused to accept that failure. Theo deserved far more than just survival; she deserved to live, to know joy, comfort, and freedom from worry. The Watch wouldn’t offer a return to the life she’d known before, but it would provide security and potential companionship. All the humans he’d known, Theo included, seemed drawn to social interaction. Food and water nourished their bodies, but conversation and friendship fed their hearts and minds. He understood that well after the last two years — and had realized just how starved he’d been for most of his life.
And he could not forget Melaina. If he chose to remain on the beach with Theo, he would never have the chance to approach his daughter; he’d throw away any possibility of knowing her before ever trying.
He frowned as he scanned the water, which grew murkier with each passing beat of his hearts. Strong currents flowed around him, and sea creatures darted through the gloom with rarely-witnessed urgency and disregard for caution. The sea was restless.
A glance upward provided another clue —no sunlight beamed through the wavering surface.
Vasil angled himself upward and swam. Traversing open water alone was an undertaking to be avoided whenever possible; even kraken were vulnerable to other predators without strength in numbers. It was best to remain close to the bottom, where they could take better advantage of irregularities on the sea floor for cover and camouflage.
In this case, he considered the risk worthwhile — he had to be sure.
His suspicions were confirmed the moment he broke the surface. The sky was overcast and dreary. A thin strip of blue remained visible on the horizon in the direction from which he’d come, but the opposite horizon presented a dark mass of gathering clouds. Based on the direction of the wind sweeping over his head, the storm was moving toward him — toward Theo.
Halora’s storms sometimes lasted for days, and the most violent of them could alter the underwater landscape — his only reliable means of navigation — enough to make it unrecognizable. If that happened, he risked never finding their beach again. He risked losing Theo forever.
Vasil plunged below again. He wouldn’t accept losing his female; he had to get back to her.
He pushed himself harder, faster, riding every favorable current he encountered. The murky water — clouded by sediment, debris, and algae that had been stirred up by the agitated sea — surrounded him like fog would have on land, limiting his range of view.
Though he wasn’t eager to return with more bad news — this time without a fresh kill to present — he could not deny his excitement at the thought of seeing Theo again much sooner than he’d anticipated. He wanted to find the Facility or The Watch, wanted to return to his people, his friends, but he also wanted Theo, and a secluded life with her just simpler. Easier. More fulfilling.
How
easy would it have been to cast off the duties he’d performed for his people for most of his life, to take what he wanted, to pursue his desires at the expense of all else?
No. That is not me. That is not my way.
He would protect Theo, provide for her, do anything she required, now and after he found his way home and brought her to The Watch to share his den. She’d be his mate; she’d be his. Everything he did thereafter — whether for kraken, human, or both — would also be for her. He’d abandon neither his people nor Theodora.
His newfound resolve granted him a fresh burst of speed. He darted forward.
And a monster surged out of the murk.
In all his years of hunting the waters, he’d never seen anything like the creature before him. Its body was cylindrical, covered in long, dull brown plates that tapered at either end. Bumps atop its segmented shell reminded him of the rocks so common across much of the seafloor. Long, jointed appendages, each ending in a wicked point, extended from the creature’s face, surrounding a set of four mandibles that parted to reveal a wide mouth possessing not teeth but strange, hair-like growths. Eye stalks jutted from either side of its head, tipped with fist-sized clusters comprised of dozens of dark, scintillating eyes.
Small flippers paddled water along its pale underside. At least a dozen long, thin tentacles stretched from the monster’s back end, wriggling to propel it forward. From end to end, it was more than twice Vasil’s length.
Vasil registered those details, despite the gloom, in the space of a heartbeat. His hearts stilled an instant later when he realized the creature was coming at him. He flailed his arms frantically and spread his tentacles to halt himself, snapping his torso backward.
The monster’s pointed appendages — its mouth-fingers — lashed out as it sped through the water in front of Vasil. Two of the fingers clamped down on his forearm, piercing his flesh. He growled at the burst of pain as his torso collided with the creature’s armored body. The other mouth-fingers clawed at his arm. He clenched his fist as tight as he could to flex the muscles of his forearm; another point sank into his skin, but it barely penetrated the bunched muscle.
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