Waterdreamer (The Emerald Series Book 2)

by Kimberly James

  “Kind of slow today, huh?” I asked after placing my order.

  “Yeah, I don’t even know why we stay open on weekdays this time of year. But hey.” She shrugged, drizzling the snowball of ice with red syrup. “I can’t complain. I’m basically getting paid to read.”

  “What are you reading?” I nodded toward her book. I couldn’t see the cover clearly.

  “‘Daughter of Smoke and Bone.’”

  “That’s a good one. I hear they’re going to make a movie.”

  “Yeah, I heard that too. You like to read?” She looked at me quizzically as she handed over my cup, a slight lilt of surprise in her tone.

  “Yeah, I used to read a lot. Not much time for it now that school’s started.” I pasted on a smile, not quite sure what to make of her. It was customary to look at someone when carrying on a conversation, make eye contact, but she’d barely blinked she was staring so hard. “Well, thanks for this.”

  “Hey,” she called before I’d taken two steps. “Tell Mr. Kelley grape is back in stock.”

  “Mr. Kelley?” I actually had to think about the name for a few blank seconds. To me he was my father. Or Athen.

  “Yeah. He usually walks up every day and buys one. He’s a regular. He is your father, isn’t he?”

  My mouth dropped open a fraction and for a second I was speechless. I didn’t know what surprised me more, that my father liked grape-flavored shaved ice enough to get one every day, or that this girl seemed to know who I was. What I was. And that I was here to see my father.

  “People talk,” she said by way of explanation.

  “I’m sorry. Do I know you?” My tone might have been overly harsh, but I was getting tired of everyone knowing my business. Some of my friends, Ally for instance, were social media whores, unable to let a second of their life go by without telling the entire world about it. And while I was cool with that, it wasn’t my style. Regular humans knew about us and they liked to talk about us, like we were the topic of a reality TV show.

  “No.” She waved me off, her cheeks staining pink. “My brother goes to Walton High. He’s a freshman. He thinks you’re pretty. And you’re the first girl I’ve seen…” She paused, her eyes catching on mine. Slowly she said, “There aren’t many girls like you.” Her blush deepened. “I’m sorry. That sounded bad. I’m Sarah, and I’m not trying to be rude.”

  “Caris.” I offered my name cautiously. Something told me she already knew it anyway. I moved on down the wharf, away from the uneasy conversation. It wasn’t what she said. It was the way she said it. The way she looked at me. Like I was less. To my shame, I wished I could make it rain on her little shack and soak the book she was surprised I’d read, as if books wouldn’t interest me. It occurred to me as the hairs on the back of my neck prickled, I probably could do just that if I thought about it enough.

  Instead, I ignored the feeling of staring eyes and concentrated on my shaved ice and the sounds of the wharf. The ping of rigging on the moored boats. The slurp of the water on the hulls. The slight vibration of the wood beneath me with every step I took.

  By the time Athen’s boat came fully into view, I’d eaten half the mound of shaved ice. My lips were cold, probably stained pink. I wiped at them, my hand falling still when he came out of the cabin. He stopped short when he saw me, but other than that he didn’t seem surprised to see me. Smugly pleased is how I would describe his expression. He seemed to favor t-shirts with cut out sleeves, and as usual, my eyes were drawn to the tattoo on his right deltoid and biceps. Jagged fingers of lightning, thinly inked, teased by the ends of his hair.

  When our eyes made contact, my skin responded to the frisson of energy that shimmered between us like waves of heat coming off hot pavement. Indifference. That had been my plan. Totally naive and futile. Whether I liked it or not, he evoked something in me. I was going to have to give up the idea that I wasn’t curious about this man who could call down the skies and liked grape-flavored shaved ice.

  “You cut your hair,” he said in lieu of a greeting.

  I fingered the short ends. Like Noah’s, like Sol’s, and every other breather I met, his hair was longer than mine by several inches. I wasn’t going to defend my choice to my father. My hair didn’t define me any more than the energy sizzling between us. I inhaled deeply, tasting it in the air. Did he feel it too? This headiness in response to the undercurrent of power begging for freedom? I wanted to ask, but it felt too personal. I was still reluctant to put words to the connection between us. I wanted it to just go away, but I feared it would only get worse.

  “It’s easier.” I shrugged and took another bite of my shaved ice.

  “It suits you,” he said.

  And why should that make me feel all warm and fuzzy?

  “Sarah says to tell you she has grape,” I said, wanting to get the conversation steered in another direction.

  “Good to know.” His eyes searched the pier as though he were looking for someone. A chaperone maybe. “Does Patrick know you’re here?”

  “He suggested I come.” I wanted him to know he hadn’t come between me and the man who had raised me. That he couldn’t come between us.

  His eyebrows rose speculatively, like he wasn’t sure whether to believe me.

  “We were grilling out the other night. A business thing. People were dressed up and well…” I wasn’t so sure why I found this so embarrassing. “It rained all of a sudden. Like really hard.”

  “Evening thunderstorms are a daily occurrence, Caris. You might not have been responsible.”

  The corners of his mouth twitched. His eyes sparked with amusement. I could tell he was trying to keep a straight face. I’m glad everyone thought this was so funny. I found it mortifying.

  “I was,” I said, letting my gaze follow a boat idling by in the harbor. I wasn’t about to tell him what I’d been thinking about at the time. It involved Noah, and his mouth, and well, my body temperature had risen and boom—rain. Lots of it.

  “Well, come on then,” he said, offering his hand. “This is best handled on the open water.”

  I blinked. Obviously, I hadn’t thought this through. What had I expected? A chat on the bench? He’d offer a few tips I could type into my cell phone: Don’t drink too much water before bed. Don’t put salt on your watermelon. Don’t put your hand in a bowl of warm water. I hadn’t expected to actually go somewhere with him. Be alone with him.

  “It’ll be all right, Caris,” he said, enforcing his habit of using my name whenever he could, as if he were making up for lost time.

  I was afraid to take his hand. Touching would cross some boundary I’d put solidly in place for my own protection. That much energy flowed between us. The air might spontaneously combust. An explosion waiting to happen. He finally let go of that smile he’d been holding back and chuckled, a deep throaty sound.

  “I’m glad you find me so amusing.” I jumped on board, landing sure-footed. While holding my shaved ice. Without his assistance.

  “Oh, I find you a lot of things,” he said, going to stand behind the steering wheel. The engine rumbled to life under his hand. He could be a Viking, too. “Relax Caris, and give me a chance. You might actually like me.”

  That’s exactly what I was afraid of.

  * * *

  It took about ten minutes for me to start puking.

  The boat pitched and rolled on the rough seas, and I held it in for as long as I could.

  “First time out here, huh?” Athen asked, handing me a towel. It was wet, and he must have dumped it in some ice because it was also blessedly cold.

  I wiped my face and cheeks. Wiped the sweat beading on my forehead. When I was through, I wrapped it around my neck. My head fell between my arms as I was still half bent over the rail. I didn’t want to move too far away for fear my stomach wasn’t finished rebelling. I’d been out in a boat once before, but that day the water had been smooth as glass and we hadn’t gone near as far from shore. Still, a few waves shouldn’t have had this
kind of effect on someone like me. I was born for sea and waves. Or so I thought.

  “I don’t get it,” I panted. “How can I be seasick?” This had to be one of the most embarrassing moments in my life. How was this even genetically possible?

  “You’ve been away a long time, Caris. Your body is still learning.” Athen’s voice was patient as he held a bottle of water out to me. He wasn’t even trying to hide his mirth.

  I glowered and snatched the water out of his hand. I sloshed a mouthful of it around in my mouth, spitting it out along with the taste of humiliation. I imagined getting seasick for a breather was right up there with not being able to swim.

  “I won’t tell,” he said, his tone light with teasing.

  No, no, no. This isn’t where I wanted to go, with Athen looking at me with teasing in his eyes, his smile promising to keep my secret. Like he was enjoying my company. He wasn’t my friend. He was only family in the technical sense, so I refused to count that. He was a means to an end. Nothing more.

  “Jump in.” He inclined his head overboard.

  “What?”

  “It’ll make you feel better. Jump in.”

  I stared over the rail at the still choppy seas. They gulped around the hull of the boat like the slurping of tongues. I was no expert, clearly, but the waves had to be about two to three feet. I swallowed a lump of fear. What if he followed me? That was a step I was definitely not ready to take. He could hold my hand while I puked my guts out, but I refused to swim with him.

  “Don’t worry, I’ll wait here.”

  I left my tank top and shorts on despite the bathing suit I wore underneath. The relief when I hit the water was instantaneous. After about thirty seconds of letting the water seep into my pores, I no longer felt like I was on the Mind Bender at Six Flags. I basted for another minute before surfacing and crawled up the ladder.

  “Better?”

  “Yeah. Much.” I shook my head when he offered me a towel. I wanted to keep the water on my skin. Kind of like insurance.

  He’d killed the engine and stood with his hip propped up against the top of a seat. “How’s school going?”

  I turned my face to him, the question taking me by surprise. He must have misinterpreted my blank stare.

  “You are in school?”

  “Yes,” I said. Talking with him about something so mundane felt odd. I found I could deal with him better if I kept him in the realm of the extraordinary, safely away from the column marked ordinary. “It’s school.”

  “Are you a good student? Do you make good grades?”

  “If you’re asking me if I’m smart, I hold my own.” Suck at math, though. I kept that little tidbit to myself. Impressions and all.

  “Anyone giving you trouble?” This was the second time I’d fielded that same question in as many days. It was like they were expecting it, hoping for it. I wondered what he’d do if I said yes. If I’d ever see Derrick Nash again.

  “No. Most of the people are pretty nice.”

  His eyes held to my face as if he knew I wasn’t being totally truthful. “Why are you lying?”

  I narrowed my eyes, prepared to bluff it out. “What makes you think I’m lying?”

  He inclined his head, his eyes shooting off to the left. Thirty yards away a small gray cloud floated innocuously across an otherwise blue sky.

  I snorted. I’d seen something like this before in a cartoon. A random thundercloud in an otherwise blue sky, harassing one of the characters.

  “So what did this person who’s not giving you any trouble do to you?”

  “Nothing,” I said. Sneering looks. A trip and fall. Child’s play. Nothing to get so worked up about. The cloud spread under the weight of my meager thoughts. Rain fell gently on my face, pinged off the rail under my hands. I let the thoughts carry me further, an experiment of sorts. But nothing happened. No lightning. No rumble of thunder. I stamped down disappointment.

  “Not bad considering the air is unusually dry. The water temperature is still warm so that helps.”

  “So those things make a difference?” He’d garnered my full attention.

  “Yes. They are the seeds. We’re manipulators of what nature already has in place. Without it, your power, mine, is somewhat limited.”

  I found it comforting and at the same time disappointing that this power had its limits.

  “Emotion is what makes those seeds grow. Together, if we pooled our energy, I suspect we could make quite a show. Much like that day on the boat with the landers. You reacted not only to your anger at them, but you reacted to me. Instinct has its place, but not when dealing with this level of energy. The potential for destruction is too great. Do you understand?”

  I thought I did. That day on the boat when Athen had saved me, I’d felt the jolt like the currents of two electrical streams coming together into one great force. His power feeding into mine like warm gulf water fueling a hurricane. I’d believed us to be indestructible in that moment. Worse, I’d felt the destruction we were capable of and it appealed to me. Like my Song, I recognized the potential for its abuse. Some inner voice cautioned me against it.

  “I’m going to show you,” he said. Instantly the wind blew across my face. A soft rain fell. “I thought it, and it happened because I willed it to. If I wanted to sprinkle in some intensity, I think of something that makes me angry.” In ten seconds the rain fell harder, stinging my cheeks. “Or, as you might have already figured out, something that doesn’t.”

  His gray eyes pinned to mine as he confirmed my own theories based on my limited experience. It wasn’t just anger or fear that worked as fuel, it was any strong or intense emotion. The night of my dad’s party had taken me by surprise because the thoughts had come hard and fast, out of nowhere, just like the storm. Did that mean for me love was more powerful than hate? I could argue love hadn’t spurned that storm, that it had been lust. But when it came to Noah, sometimes love and lust were one and the same. Even now my heart kicked up thinking about it. About him. My child-like anger at Derrick conjured nothing but a cloud with barely a sprinkle. But it wasn’t Derrick I was using as my conduit now. It was Noah.

  Thunder rolled overhead. My hair twirled in the sudden gust of wind. A streak of lightning lit the sky, bright fingers snaking down to the surface of the water. It was beautiful.

  Athen raised his eyebrows in surprise. I averted my eyes lest he come to the same conclusion I just had. I was a horny teenager in love.

  “Now,” he said, taking a step toward me. “Back off a bit. You must learn to feel the ebb and flow of the thought, feel the decision. Take what you will and ignore the rest. You’re letting it control you.”

  I closed my eyes, concentrating on the sensations. Like my Song that had come to me so instinctively, I needed to train myself to recognize the feeling because it was so natural, an extension of something deep inside me.

  As I stood there buffeted by the wind, I felt a new surge of power, an invasion. Athen challenged me, trying to wrestle control. Take from me. Like the coming of so many waves, his assault surged toward me. He was about to overpower me.

  “Don’t relent your control to me, Caris. Don’t cower to me. Insist on being my equal.”

  My mental jab did nothing to stem the rush of his power. It was like trying to shut off a dam that had broken. The initial effort of resistance stole my strength, my will. I spiraled under the weight of his influence, struggling to unfurl my wings. Like standing up to a strong wind. I pushed back until I felt the wind lift underneath me, surrendering to my thoughts, the command in them. Slowly, I regained control of my part of the chaos. Once I regained my balance, it was like watching an eagle soar on the wind. Or a surfer ride the perfect wave. Not harnessing the power, but becoming part of it.

  I drank in the wonder, the headiness. This feeling is what had kept me away. Kept me afraid. It was like a drug and I knew I could be so easily addicted.

  Our eyes met and I wondered if, like his, mine had an added spark that wa
sn’t normally there. If like his bronzed skin, mine radiated with an invisible flux of power.

  He nodded at me, and I slowly felt his power drain away. It receded like the coming of low tide until it was just me, the water, the air, bending to my will alone.

  “Now you,” he said with a decisive flick of his chin.

  I closed my eyes better to concentrate as Athen continued to offer his guidance, letting his words take root.

  “It’s not about control. It’s about awareness. Letting the air, the water, respond to you. It’s making itself available for you to use. It should be your choice whether you want to use it or not. You are the master here, not the other way around.”

  Water churned under my skin. Air blew through my chest. They seemed to ask me a question and when I responded, “No,” the rain stopped abruptly. The clouds evaporated under the sun. So unbearably quiet now. I looked at Athen, a little stunned.

  “You’re a natural.” His face broke out into a full smile, his eyes bright against his tan cheeks..

  I returned his smile, basking in those tiny words of approval. The feeling wasn’t all that different from the day my dad taught me to ride a bike or catch a ball. Pride came with the accomplishment but also in knowing he was proud of me.

  “Those landers on the boat, I didn’t hurt them. Not permanently anyway. I wanted to, but I’m not a monster, Caris. Not anymore.”

  I blinked under the now blazing sun. “Why did you let me think you did?”

  “That was for Patrick’s benefit. I knew he was listening. He needed to know I would do anything to keep you safe.”

  “I don’t think that was it at all. I think you want him to be intimidated by you.”

  “Didn’t work, did it? He still punched me.”