by Bella Raven
“Vampire bites are fatal to werewolves, right?”
Ethan lowers his head, and his tone grows somber. “Fatal. And excruciating. It’s a horrible way to die. I don’t know what’s worse—getting bit, or watching someone you care about wither away in agony.” His face looks tortured as he recalls the memory.
“I’m sorry.”
“Don’t ever get fooled by their charm. They serve no ecological function,” he says.
“What happened?”
Ethan’s eyes grow sullen.
“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t pry,” I say.
“My parents were killed by vampires.”
“I’m so sorry.”
“The way you feel about those wasps… multiply that by a million That’s how much I hate vampires.” Ethan’s eyes narrow, and his face tightens.
I know exactly how he feels. The pain, the grief, the anger of losing a loved one. It’s never easy. But when someone is ripped away from you too soon, it’s horrifying. You realize how fragile life is. Even for supernatural beings. Nothing lasts forever. Everything is changing. Everything is decaying.
Ethan and I tread water, circling each other. I want to reach out to him. To hold him. To let him know he’s not alone. Like a drifting satellite pulled out of orbit, I gravitate toward him. Closer and closer with each rotation. Collision is imminent.
T minus nine seconds.
Eight.
Seven.
The sun glimmers off the water, reflecting upon his face.
T minus six seconds.
Our eyes lock onto one another.
Five.
Four.
My heart pulses. My stomach flutters.
Three.
Two.
My skin flush with excitement.
One.
Houston, we have touchdown.
I cling my arms around his neck. He wraps his arms around me. We tread water, face to face. Droplets of water glisten across his tan face, dripping down his sculpted cheeks. My eyes flare into his. Those full lips enticing me closer. My heart pounding so hard, I know he can feel it. I melt into his muscular body.
Seconds tick by like hours.
I lean in to press my lips against his, but he pushes me away. Now there is an ocean between us. He glides to the other end of the well. My face blooms red with embarrassment.
“We shouldn’t do this,” he says.
“Please, tell me you don’t have a girlfriend?”
“I don’t have a girlfriend,” he chuckles.
“So, what part of this equation am I missing?”
“It’s dangerous,” he says.
“You’re not getting that far today. It’s just a kiss.”
“You need to understand, extreme emotions can trigger a transformation. Love, anger, fear, sadness, joy.”
“Love?”
“Lust,” he says, snarking back.
I frown.
“So, you’re in lust with me, and you feel like you won’t be able to control yourself, and you’ll turn into a raging beast?”
“More or less,” he says.
“From one kiss?”
“It’s a gateway drug. I don’t want to hurt you.”
“My lips are a gateway drug? Hmm, I like that.” I swim closer to him. “Why do you care what happens to me if you’re just in lust?” I ask, taunting him.
He swims away.
“Surely, you’ve had a girlfriend before?” I ask.
“Surely.”
“And you didn’t hurt her, did you?”
“She wasn’t like you.”
“And what am I like?” I swim closer. He doesn’t swim away.
“Indescribable.”
“Try,” I smile.
Ethan thinks about this for a moment, grinning back at me. “Should I compare you to the brightness of the sun? The endlessness of time? The infinity of space? How can one compare the incomparable?”
“That sounds like something more than lust,” I whisper, drawing closer to him.
Ethan’s eyes sparkle in the sunlight.
I sling my arms around him, rising out of the water, taking control. “Shut up and kiss me,” I say, moving in for the kill. I can almost taste his full lips on mine, when a ferocious growls stops me.
This is my moment, and its ruined. I want nothing more than to feel his soft, plush lips against mine. To ravage his face and neck with delicate kisses. I want to feel the electric spark between our lips, the tingling in my body, the rush of endorphins. Synapses exploding, neurotransmitters flooded with dopamine and oxytocin. I don’t care if love is an illusion, the product of neurochemistry. A biologic chain of events. What I feel is real. And I want to feel his kiss. Right now.
But these wolves are messing everything up.
They’ve surrounded the well, crouched on the bank, growling and snapping. It’s not just four wolves anymore. It’s dozens. Ethan tries to shield me behind him, but they’re everywhere. Ethan’s body turns rigid like stone, scowling at the beasts. There are too many for even him to fight off. My heart races as I cling to him.
“Take a deep breath and hang on,” he says.
“Why?”
“Just do it.”
I inhale a huge breath of air, and my rib cage expands to the point just shy of bursting. Ethan dives down, pulling me along with him. I clasp my arms around him, and his powerful arms pull us a deeper into the obsidian depths. The pressure builds the deeper we go, squeezing my eardrums to the point of pain. The surface slips away, and the muted growls of the wolves dissolve.
Ethan pulls and kicks as hard as he can, taking us into an underwater passageway. The sunlight from the surface fades within a few strokes, and the water grows dark. I glance back to the mouth of the passage, dim shafts of light shimmer—the opening growing smaller. Ahead of us, the water is pitch black. Soon, we are enveloped completely by darkness.
The darkness and the inability to breathe are inducing panic. I have no idea where we are, or where were going. I don’t know how long it’s going to take to get there. My lungs are already screaming for me to take a breath. I don’t know if we’re even halfway yet. I don’t know how Ethan can even see where were going. I feel him veer to the left, then to the right. He takes a series of turns, and my sense of direction is gone again, just like it was driving here—only then, I could breathe.
If we weren’t underwater, I’m sure I would be sweating. My heart is pounding, my stomach is turning in knots. I keep telling myself not to panic. My inner self doesn’t seem to be listening.
My lungs are on fire. They’re not just screaming for air, they’re demanding it. With a bullhorn to my ear, my lungs are yelling breathe now, or we’re going on strike.
CHAPTER 23
CAVE DIVING IS one of the most dangerous things you can do. They say never to swim into an underwater cave so far that you can’t see daylight. Amateur divers get in trouble all the time when they swim into a cave, even with a flashlight. In the wrong hands, a flashlight can kill.
Any number of things can go wrong. The flashlight could run out of batteries. The diver could out swim their oxygen capacity, and by the time they turn back, there isn’t enough oxygen left to get out of the cave. Most divers don’t realize that they are kicking up fine deposits of sediment that rest on the bottom, clouding the water behind them. When they turn around to swim back, visibility in the water is near zero. These unlucky divers often drown trying to find their way out of the maze of caves.
Knowing all of these facts does nothing to soothe my nerves. In fact, quite the opposite. Right now, I’m wishing I had never watched that show on TV about cave diving. Ethan swims hard through the darkness. I hold on tight, but my strength is fading and my head grows light.
I know exactly what’s happening in my body thanks to that show. My body is slowly building up carbon dioxide in my bloodstream. The buildup will cause a strange mix of disorientation and euphoria. I will be less and less able to process the world around me. Less and less
able to function. To power my muscles. To make rational decisions. Not to mention the agonizing feeling of not being able to breathe. It will be loads of fun.
Just like in my nightmares, I will reach a point where my brain forces my body to take a breath. It’s called the breakpoint. Human beings are incapable of voluntarily stopping their breath. Sure, you can hold it for a long time, but eventually you will inhale, like it or not.
With years of practice, free divers can extend the breakpoint by increasing lung capacity, and by hyperventilating. The hyperventilating over oxygenates the blood, prolonging the onset of the breakpoint. But it’s unavoidable. Everyone has a breakpoint. From there, it’s all downhill. If you reach the breakpoint, rest assured, your death certificate will list drowning as the cause.
If my nightmares are any indication, my breakpoint is imminent. An overload of carbon dioxide in the bloodstream will cause your vision to dim as you lose consciousness. But since it’s pitch black down here, I have no idea if my vision is dimming or not. I cling on to Ethan with all of my might, but I feel my grip slipping.
My thoughts are harder to form. I feel that odd sense of extreme discomfort, blended with a lightheaded high. What few, coherent thoughts I can muster are devastating. I’m sure Ethan knows where he’s going. But what if my extra weight and drag are slowing him down? What if he didn’t factor this in to his decision to plummet us into the darkness?
Breakpoint is near. I want to take a deep gasp. I know the moment is coming. The sensation is indescribable.
So, this is it? This is how I’m going to die. I’m going to drown here at the bottom of Devils Pit. It all seems so silly. Everything. Every little worry and fear. About stuff that really didn’t matter. All that time wasted. What was the point of it all? For the first time in my life, I have perspective. It’s a shame that perspective is going to be lost, down here, in the darkness.
I can feel it. My body is about to involuntarily breathe. Even though I don’t want it to. My conscious mind says hold on. Just a few more seconds. My involuntary mind says no.
Just as the strength leaves my arms, and my consciousness fades, I see a singular shaft of light. It’s enough to give me hope. I cling to Ethan tighter. He swims hard toward the warbling shaft of light in the water.
A few more strokes and we’ve cleared the mouth of the passageway, and I can see the shimmering surface above. Ethan pulls with all his might. It’s a valiant attempt, but it’s not enough.
Breakpoint.
I gasp for air, but a rush of water floods my lungs. My final thought is one of disbelief. This wasn’t how I was supposed to die.
CHAPTER 24
ETHAN PRESSES HIS full lips to mine, pinches my nostrils shut, and breathes a series of rescue breaths into my lungs. I got my kiss after all, but not exactly how I planned. Then he starts the chest compressions.
Fluid spews from my lungs and I huddle over, coughing in violent spasms. I gasp for air, and the remaining fluid gurgles and rattles with each inhalation, like a bad case of pneumonia. After a few moments of hacking, I’ve expelled most of the water from my lungs. My ribs and diaphragm are sore from coughing, and my throat is raw. My head is killing me, and I feel the throbbing pulse in my temples.
“Are you okay?” he asks.
“Do I look okay?”
“Well, at least you’re not dead.”
I am both ecstatic to be alive, and extremely pissed that I almost died. I don’t know whether I want to hug, or hit, Ethan. Probably a little of both.
We are in a small, domed cavern. A single shaft of light beams down on the water from an opening in the ceiling. The sound of the rippling waves reverberates against the limestone. I would think this spot pretty and romantic, under different circumstances.
“Please tell me there is another way out of here, besides the way we came in?”
Ethan grabs my arm, trying to help me to my feet, but I jerk away. I know he saved us, but I still feel the need to act a little pissed off about the whole drowning thing.
“I can manage,” I say, and stagger to my feet on my own.
“Okay,” he says. “Follow me.”
Ethan strides to a passageway at the other end of the cavern. I stand there by the waters edge, shivering in the cool air. I huff and grit my teeth with indignation, still playing up the whole pseudo anger thing.
Ethan glances back at me. “What?”
I clear my throat with over exaggerated dramatics and arch an eyebrow at him. He rolls his eyes and marches back to me, scooping me up in his arms. I smile to myself.
He carries me into the passageway, and again we find ourselves cloaked in darkness. I wonder how he can see in the impossible blackness? It must be a werewolf thing.
The air grows cooler the farther into the cave we travel. Ethan’s bare footsteps slap against the limestone floor, echoing off the cave walls. I feel his strong heartbeat as he holds me close to his chest.
We dash through the murky cavern for what seems like twenty minutes. Ahead, a dim light illuminates the cave walls. As we draw near, the light grows brighter and brighter, almost blinding. It takes a moment for my eyes to adjust.
Daylight at last.
We reach the cave opening, which sits high above the base of the mountain. The wind is brisk, and I shiver. My arms look like uncooked chicken skin, goosebumps rising high as sky scrapers. Clinging to Ethan as he stands at the ledge, I peer down the steep cliff. The way down is just as treacherous as the way we came up.
“Climbing up is always easier,” he says.
“That’s reassuring.”
Ethan slings me over his shoulder and drops down over the ledge. He finds grooves and ridges with which to anchor his grasp, and we scale down the side of the mountain. Slung over his shoulder, I’m almost upside down. The blood rushes to my head doing wonders for my throbbing headache. The ground below rushes up to meet me as Ethan descends the cliff with blistering speed. We are almost halfway down when something goes wrong. Ethan loses his grip.
My stomach rises into my throat as we free fall. I’m reminded of the turbulent flight we had coming into Haven hill. Ethan manages to grasp a small ledge, halting our descent. My gut smashes into his deltoid from the abrupt force. I cough with the wind knocked out of me, as we dangle from the rocks.
“Are you okay?” he asks.
“I’ll be better when you get us down.”
“Sorry.”
Ethan begins lowering us down again, and within a few minutes, we reach the bottom. A wave of relief surges over me when we finally touch ground. Ethan sets me on my feet, and I lean back against the rocky slope, trying to catch my breath. My heart is pounding.
“Okay, If this is going to work, we need to establish a few ground rules. No more hiking, no more mountain climbing, and definitely no more swimming,” I say.
“Anything else?”
“Can we skip the part where we get attacked by other werewolves?”
“Like I said, you’re dangerous,” he says.
“I’m dangerous?”
“It’s getting late, and we need to get back.”
We’re on the opposite side of the mountain from his car. Ethan picks me up, carrying me into the woods. The sun is dipping down on the other side of the peaks, and it’s growing colder in the shadow of the mountain. My body shivers, my teeth rattle, and my damp underwear feel like ice cubes against my skin.
He eases through the rugged terrain, holding me in his arms, cresting the mountain pass as if he were on an escalator. He’s breathing heavier now, and I feel his heart thumping, but he doesn’t show any signs of exhaustion. It takes at least an hour to hike up through the pass to reach the East Face. He barely seems strained from the hike.
Ethan stops abruptly in the highland above the meadow where his car is parked. His eyes squint as he peers into the distance. Wolves are circling his car, waiting for us to return. Ethan lifts his nose up, sniffing the air.
“I count six at the car. I smell more in the f
orest.”
“If you can smell them, they can smell us, right?” I ask.
Ethan looks at me with a grave expression. We huddle behind a large pine.
“What do they want? Why are they after me? And don’t say I’m dangerous.”
“They believe that you will fulfill the prophecy,” he says.
“What prophecy?”
“I’ll explain later.”
“No. You’ll explain now,” I demand.
“We don’t have time now. We have got to get you home.”
“I can’t go home like this!”
“Well, we can’t go back to Devil’s Pit. And my key’s are in my jeans,” Ethan says.
“What are you going to do, carry me for 20 miles?”
“If I have to.”
“And the sun’s going down. Aren’t you going to turn?”
“It would be best if we could get you home soon,” he says.
“You think?” I ask, my voice dripping with sarcasm.
“Trust me, I have a plan.”
“Come on, be adventurous,” I say, mocking his earlier persuasion. We wouldn’t be in this mess if we’d have just gone to class. I’m probably going to be expelled, and fail chemistry. And how am I going to explain walking into uncle Jake’s in my underwear?
Then it dawns on me that I’ve completely forgotten about Noah. We didn’t pick him up from school. I don’t know where he is, or if he made it home. I don’t have my phone to call anyone to check. My face flushes as a warm wave of panic overcomes me. My heart sinks and I feel like the worst person in the world.
Ethan picks me up, and we dash back into the forest.
CHAPTER 25
I’M STANDING ON the side of a dirt road in my underwear with my arm out and my thumb up in the air. I can’t believe I’m hitchhiking. A dark blue car barrels down the road kicking up clouds of dirt. I arch my hips and hold my thumb up high, smiling. The car rockets by without slowing, peppering me with dirt and gravel. I cough and spit dust out of my mouth.
“This was your plan?” I ask.
“Try and look sexy,” Ethan says, hiding behind a tree.