Instinct seized control of Vasil’s mind. He wrapped his tentacles around the creature’s shell and raised his free hand to grasp one of the mouth appendages near its base. The creature’s tentacles thrashed; kraken and monster tumbled and spun through the water, and the gloom made it difficult to tell the surface from the sea floor.
Vasil did not ease his hold. He wrenched the appendage to the side; it broke off with a snap strong enough to resonate in Vasil’s bones. Dark blood misted from the wound. The remaining appendages flailed wildly, and Vasil caught another, repeating the process. His suction cups latched onto the creature’s shell, and he tightened his tentacles around the creature, squeezing. The shell bucked under the pressure.
The monster’s tentacles whipped through the water in all directions, slapping Vasil’s back and arms with startling force. Its mouth-fingers released their hold on his arm, adding his blood to the hazy cloud.
He thrust away from the creature, withdrawing his tentacles. The monster darted away immediately, trailing wisps of blood, and disappeared into the murk.
Hearts pounding, Vasil swept his gaze over his surroundings. The range of his vision was greatly limited, and he wondered briefly if this was how humans saw the world beneath the waves — one small, fuzzy-edged portion at a time.
He shook his head sharply, willing himself to focus. Though his arm throbbed, the pain was distant; he knew the reprieve would only last until the excitement of the attack had faded. He clamped his right hand over the wounds, staunching the blood flow. It would affect his ability to swim, but not as much as if he’d used a tentacle to stop the bleeding. Better to swim a bit slower than leave a trail of blood in the water for other predators to follow.
I am still racing the storm. No more time to waste.
The mysterious creature had been wounded; it wasn’t likely to come back. He had to go.
Tucking both arms against his midsection, he slowly spun in place, seeking anything familiar by which to orient himself. The loose sediments and algae clouding the water made every object Vasil saw indistinct and indistinguishable from one another; his world was reduced to shapeless shadows looming in the murk.
He couldn’t begin to guess how far he was from the pod. He could ride the swells on the surface, hoping to catch sight of land, but he doubted they were yet high enough for him to see their beach — he’d traveled a long way that morning. If only he’d been—
There!
A rock formation stood on the sea floor to his right, perhaps five body lengths away — three large stones in a row, the middle one taller than the other two, each ending in a jagged point. Maintaining his hold on his wounds, Vasil swam to the formation. He held himself aloft immediately over it and sought the next marker. He found it a moment later — a crevice in the sea floor marked now only by a depression in the cloud of sand blanketing the bottom.
He was going in the right direction.
As Vasil pressed onward, the water steadily cleared, and his awareness of his wounds increased. The throbbing in his forearm became a deep, piercing ache, and it was echoed, if only faintly, across his back. He had no doubt that his pain would’ve been several times worse had he been using his arms to swim.
Fortunately, he encountered no other predators, and eventually emerged in the shallows of the beach he shared with Theo. Both the sky and sea were darker than before, but he wasn’t sure if it was due to the approaching storm, an unseen sunset, or a combination of both.
A chilled wind swept over his sea-dampened skin, blowing from behind him. It amplified the foamy white crests crashing onto the beach around him. The vegetation beyond the sand shimmered as that wind blasted through the leaves, making them twist and sway.
Theo entered his view as he approached the pod; she was on her knees beside it, packing piles of sand under its rounded bottom.
Vasil called her name, but the roar of wind and sea swallowed his voice. He hurried across the beach to stop beside her.
“Theo,” he repeated.
She started, whipping her head toward him. The wind blew her hair into her face. She yanked it back, spitting strands out of her mouth. “Fuck, you scared the crap out of me! I didn’t—” Her eyes widened. “Is that blood?”
He glanced down at his right hand, which still covered his wounds. Watery blood trickled from beneath his fingers. “Yes.”
“Get in the pod,” she commanded as she pushed herself to her feet.
“What are you doing with the sand?” he asked.
“Stabilizing the pod. Now get in. I’ll be right back.” She ran past him toward the sea.
Vasil twisted to watch her. She stopped when the surf was around her ankles and crouched, dipping her arms into the water to scrub the sand from her skin.
After a quick glance toward the black storm clouds roiling over the ocean, Vasil rounded to the front of the pod. He grasped the rim with both hands. Fresh blood oozed from his wounds, and sharp pain radiated along his arm, but it was not the pain that gave him pause as he hauled himself up — it was the sight of the relatively dark, confined space.
His hearts, which had finally slowed to a normal rate not long before, sped up again. The pod trembled in the wind, its movement startlingly reminiscent of a ship rocking on the sea.
“Do you intend to bleed to death?” Theo said from behind him. “Get your ass in there, kraken!”
“I will not bleed to death,” he replied, remaining in place. His skin was suddenly cold, and it had nothing to do with the weather. How had he brought himself to enter the pod before?
Because it was for her, not for me.
Something warm touched one of his tentacles. “Vasil?”
That warmth blossomed and spread across his flesh, all the way down to the tip of his tentacle. The pod rocked gently as Theo climbed up beside him. Her concerned eyes met his gaze.
“You okay?” she asked.
He drew in a deep breath, filling his lungs with air that smelled of brine and rain. “Yes. I am fine.”
“Well, come on,” she urged, “cause if you collapse, there’s no way I can haul you in myself.”
“I will not collapse. I am not seriously injured, Theodora.”
“Then what are you waiting for, kraken? Get in so I can take care of it.” She climbed higher, swung her legs over the side, and dropped into the pod.
Gritting his teeth, Vasil followed her inside. Theo stood to one side, bent over as she removed her pants and brushed sand off her ankles and feet.
“Sit down,” she said as she rose, wadding the pants into a ball and tossing them aside. Her top followed, leaving only her body suit.
Despite his discomfort in the tight space, he could not keep his eyes off Theo after she bared her legs. He longed to run his hands over her skin, to press his lips to her every bit of her, to pull her against him and hold her like nothing else in the world mattered.
He managed to pry away his gaze before she caught him staring, turning his attention to the pair of seats nearby. They were designed for humans, but that didn’t mean they couldn’t work for kraken. Of course, sitting here would almost be like sitting on the floor of that cell, and—
No. This is different. Everything is different.
Vasil moved to one of the seats, bunched his tentacles together, and lowered himself onto it.
The pod continued to sway in the wind. The motion was subtle but could not be ignored.
Theo set a small box on the open seat and held her hand out to him, palm up. “Give me your arm.”
Thunder boomed outside the pod.
Memories of dark, damp cells and rumbling thunder flashed through Vasil’s mind; they were memories of pain, of blood, of Neo’s angry yelling and Dracchus’s unshakeable calm. His chest constricted as he drew in a shuddering breath.
The rain started a moment later, falling in fat drops that drummed atop the pod and splashed in through the open hatch.
“Damnit.” Theo turned away from him, reached up, pulled the hatch dow
n with a grunt. Wind whistled through the narrowing gap until she sealed the opening completely.
The interior went dark. Vasil squeezed his eyes shut and sought something, anything, upon which to focus — the pain in his arm, the pain in his back, the way Theo’s scent filled the space. This was a new place. A safe place. But even with his eyes closed, he felt the walls and floor around him, felt them moving closer and closer.
“Kane, get the interior lights on, please,” Theo said. “Vasil, your arm.”
Vasil raised his injured arm; his other hand gripped the armrest of the seat tightly enough to make his knuckles ache.
He felt her hand on his arm, followed by pressure as she covered his wounds with something.
“Vasil, what’s wrong?”
“Nothing.”
“You’re lying,” Theo said gently. “You’re paler than normal, you’re tense, and if you squeeze that armrest any tighter, you’re likely to break it. It’s okay if you’re in pain. I’m going to fix it.”
“I have suffered far worse pain,” he replied, willing his muscles to ease; they did not obey. “I will heal well enough without aid.”
“Doesn’t mean you shouldn’t receive it.” He felt her shift closer, felt the warmth of her skin where her legs touched his tentacles. “Vasil, open your eyes.”
Releasing a shaky breath, he did as she asked.
White light filled the interior of the pod, purer than even the best lights in the Facility. The walls — despite how he’d felt a few moments before — hadn’t moved. He knew at his core that they hadn’t, but the sensation had been so insistent, so real, that he’d been unable to reject it at the time.
With the hatch closed, only the round window offered a view of the outside — the same window through which he’d first seen Theodora.
The tightness in his chest eased just enough to allow him to breathe; it was a small improvement, but important, nonetheless.
Theo watched him for many moments, features drawn with concern, holding a wet cloth over his wounds. “You okay?”
“I will be fine.”
“Yeah, I’m sure you will. But I know a freak-out when I see one, and that was definitely a freak-out.” Her brows fell, and she bit her bottom lip. “Look, I’m not one to talk, and I don’t want to pry, but…if you want to talk about it, I’m here to listen.”
Nostrils flaring, he drew in another ragged breath. She was right; he’d freaked out, and the reason for it was so trivial that he couldn’t help feeling foolish. He’d never spoken to anyone about it — not a word in the two years since it had happened. Perhaps that burden had become too much.
Perhaps it had always been too much.
“The walls are…too close,” he said. “This space is too small.”
“You’re claustrophobic?” she asked. “I guess that’s not too surprising considering you live in the ocean. Doesn’t get too much more wide-open than that, unless you head out into space.”
“I live in a house built by humans,” he replied, “and I do not know that word.”
“I stand corrected,” she said, offering a gentle smile. “Claustrophobic means you’re afraid of small spaces.”
He frowned, keeping his eyes on her; he refused to look at the walls, even if he could feel them nearby. “I am not afraid.”
“Okay then, you just really don’t like them.”
“Let’s call it anxiety, shall we?” Kane said through the console speaker.
“Either way, we can fix that.” She dipped her chin toward the cloth. “Put pressure on this.”
Vasil settled his right hand over the cloth as Theo pulled hers away. She moved to the console, swiping her fingers over the symbols on the projected display. He recognized many of the characters from the Computer in the Facility, and even knew some of their names, though he’d never learned how to put them together to create words and sounds.
“I’m glad this stuff is still functional,” she said. “And… There.”
Before he could ask what she meant, the pod faded away.
His tentacles twisted around each other as he stared, wide-eyed, at the world outside the pod. The console, seats, floor, and storage door remained in place, but the walls and roof were gone. He could see the beach, the ring of stones where they made their fires, the angry waves lashing the shore, the jungle vegetation waving in the wind. He tilted his head back and watched with wonder as raindrops spattered on the invisible dome overhead, running off to the sides to create a transparent shell of water.
“Better?” Theo asked.
He tentatively reached toward the sheen of water but stopped himself before his hand touched anything. It was best not to know for certain because…this was better. Much better. He shifted his attention back to her, meeting her green-eyed gaze, and smiled.
“Yes.”
“Good.” She returned to his side. “Now, let’s get this arm fixed up.”
She opened the case she’d placed on the open seat and removed several objects from within, including a gun-like device similar to the tools he’d seen Aymee and Arkon use to seal wounds. This one was sleeker and longer with a wide front end.
“I’ve interfaced with it,” Kane said. “Aim and fire, Theo.”
“What does he mean aim and fire?” Vasil asked, brows falling low.
“He’s just being dramatic,” she replied, removing the wet cloth from his arm. She grimaced and dabbed blood off his skin. “You’re gonna have to tell me what happened.”
He watched warily as she aimed the device at one of his wounds. “I was attacked by a sea creature that I have never seen before.”
“Relax, okay?” she said.
“Yeah, this won’t be the most agonizing pain of your life. Probably,” Kane added.
Vasil frowned, keeping his focus on Theo.
She sighed. “Please, don’t listen to him. This will feel weird, but it doesn’t really hurt. Trust me?”
Vasil nodded.
She pressed down the trigger, and a soft blue glow appeared over his skin just above the wound. A more solid-looking beam of light formed at the center, and within moments it was accompanied by several smaller beams that spun and twirled around it. His arm thrummed, and there was a hint of cold, but no pain.
The silence between them was filled by the drumming of raindrops atop the pod. Having the beach and thrashing sea in his peripheral vision was of great comfort, but he didn’t let his eyes drift from Theo. His earlier fear — his anxiety — seemed even more foolish now.
“I did not have problems with small spaces before,” he said without meaning to.
Her eyes flicked up to meet his briefly. Her brow knitted. “It’s something new?”
“I was tortured by hunters a little more than two years ago.”
Theo flinched, lifting the device away from his arm. “What?”
“They held me in a small cell on a boat, arms and tentacles bound, with my neck anchored to the wall. For three days they beat myself and my companions and denied us water.” Just the mention of it made images flash through his mind, but he did his best to cast them aside. It was the past; he needed to move on.
Theo’s grip tightened on the device. “When you say hunters…you’re talking about…humans?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because they viewed my kind as monsters to be eliminated for their safety. And because their leader thought we had taken his son.”
She turned his arm to situate the device over the next wound, depressing the trigger again. “Did you?”
“Yes,” he replied as the cold, thrumming sensation returned. “We saved his life after he was betrayed by his own, but we could not allow him the chance to reveal our home.”
“How…did you get free?”
“A human released us when the ship caught fire.”
“And since then, you haven’t been able to stand enclosed spaces?” she asked, moving to the final wound.
“I have been all right in familiar
places,” he replied, “but even the home the humans built for me was difficult to adjust to. I left the windows open for weeks, even in rainstorms, before it stopped bothering me.”
“Because you felt trapped.”
Vasil nodded, dropping his gaze to the floor. “It makes me feel…weak.”
Theo turned off the device and set it aside. Placing her fingers back on his arm, she lightly ran them over the now-healed wounds. His skin tingled beneath her touch, warmth spreading over its surface.
“I know the feeling,” she said quietly, “but you’re not weak, Vasil. If anything, that experience has made you stronger.”
His gaze shifted to her fingers. “I do not feel stronger for it. I have been battered and wounded more times than I can count. Why should those few days affect me so much when all the rest do not?”
Her fingers slowed for a moment. “Because that was the one time you couldn’t fight back. But no matter how helpless you might have felt, you remained strong.” She placed a hand on the center of his chest. “In here. You wouldn’t be here right now if that wasn’t true.”
For the second time since he’d entered the pod, it was difficult to breathe, but it wasn’t anxiety now. The tenderness of her touch was overwhelming, amplified by her understanding. Though her circumstances had been different, she knew how he felt.
“Your heartbeat is so…different,” she said, staring at his chest.
“Kraken have three hearts.” And Vasil felt like all three of his were beating for Theo alone.
Eyes wide, she briefly met his gaze before looking down again. “That’s amazing.”
You are amazing, Theodora.
Her teeth caught her lower lip as she tilted her head, and a lock of her hair brushed his arm. She cleared her throat softly and pulled her hand away. Her mouth dipped into a slight frown. “You’ll have moments of…relapse, and they might make you feel powerless, but you’re not. You can overcome them.” Twisting away from him, she returned the device to its case. “I do.”
Though she’d removed her hand, the once-gentle pressure on his chest built to something uncomfortable. He felt the connection between them closing, felt her erecting barricades around her heart, and he wanted to roar in protest. He longed to draw her against him, to hold her, protect her, and tear apart anyone or anything that sought to do her harm — because she was his. He’d accept no walls between them.
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