by J. C. Hart
"I don't know, mate. Must be using that motor to pump the stuff into the river, but for the life of me I don't know why. It doesn't make any sense."
Not to you, thought Jake. It made perfect sense to him though. Suspicions confirmed: someone was definitely trying to poison Tangaroa which meant that Moana was in danger, and so was Kotahi Bay. He had to get some photographic evidence, and then he had to get back to the Bay.
Jake started to sneak forward, but Kyle grabbed his arm.
"What are you doing?"
"I need photos. I can't go back with no other evidence."
"Look, I only signed up to help you find out where this was all coming from, I can't risk going in there."
Jake looked the other man in the eye, but he knew he couldn't ask him to put himself in any danger. "I'll go alone. Okay? Just wait for me in the bushes, and I'll be back real soon."
"I don't think you should go, man. You don't look great."
"I have to do this. Just...wait for me. Please?"
"Yeah, sure. I can't exactly make you walk back to the Bay, can I?" Kyle cracked half a grin and then retreated into the trees.
Jake waited until he couldn't see Kyle any more then took a few deep breaths and headed for the shed, trying to keep a low profile like they did in the movies. He tripped a few times, managing to recover his balance before he tumbled onto his face, but by the time he made it to the wall his breath was coming in ragged gasps and he wished he'd taken Kyle's advice and turned back.
He had to be the one to bring this news to the Bay though. He had to. Jake closed his eyes and forced his breath to come evenly, stretching his muscles before he stood. He kept his back to the wall—partly for the strength it gave him and partly to keep himself safe—as he edged toward the window. He peered inside but it was too grimy to see anything. He was going to have to go to the door.
Summoning some more energy he maneuvered himself to the open doorway. It was dark inside and the sound of the machine blurred out everything else. He pushed the door all the way open and then moved in, still keeping his back to the wall. The machine gleamed, metallic and shiny in the middle of the room, large pipes came from its body on one side like thick tentacles and dove into the earth below. On the other side was a barrel. Jake moved closer, the smell of petrol heavy in the air, to see where the petrol was being sucked through the machine and out the pipes.
Jake turned on his phone camera and started taking shots, the light wasn't the best but there was enough there to show that something wasn't right. This was nothing good.
A thick hand gripped his neck from behind and Jake dropped his phone and watched as a large boot smashed down, splintering the screen.
"What the..." Jake began to say but the other hand reached around and cut off his airway.
"I could ask the same thing boy. What are you doing sniffing around here?"
The man turned Jake so that they faced each other, his hand never leaving Jake’s throat. He was an older man with scraggly brown hair and a furrowed brow, his fierce look suggested he wasn't truly looking for an answer.
"I was just-"
"You were just leaving."
Before he knew it the man was swinging, his thick fist landing smack in the middle of Jake's face. He could feel his nose break, blood gushed from it, down over his lips and chin. His hands flew up, trying to stem the flow, but it hurt too much to put pressure on his nose, and then he'd been kicked in the groin and he doubled all the way over onto the floor.
He had never considered himself a coward, never considered himself weak, but as he lay there in the dirt with no energy to defend himself, he couldn't help but think of all the times Melody had taken a beating for him. All the times he’d never really appreciated just how much she'd suffered.
Rage bubbled up in him and he forced himself to his knees, swinging with his right fist to catch the man in his stomach. The other man let out an oomph, but it didn't stop him. He stepped back and grabbed a shovel from the side of the shed and swung that instead, bringing it down on Jake's already battered body.
Jake could only tell that it was over by the way the shadows stopped moving in front of his eyes. He was too sore to move, too sore to even complain. He could barely keep his eyes open as the man dragged him to the cliff and tossed him into the river.
Chapter Ten
Jake was in trouble. Moana could feel it through the water. Somewhere up the river he had been wounded badly and his blood was tinging the water all the way down. She rushed to the river mouth and took human form, wrapping herself in the protective layers of the sea before stepping forth from her home and into the smaller body of water.
Technically, it was Tāne's domain, but as far as she knew, Tāne's child wasn't around to tell her off, and that was the least of her concerns right now.
She could feel the sea calling her back, its draw stronger with each step she took. Jake needed her though, and as much as she hated to admit it, she needed him. Needed the solidity he provided her, needed the warmth he gifted her with his touch, and needed, so badly, those moments of humanity that she had been craving.
The coppery tang of blood in the water drew her onward. Without her magic it was doing nothing to fight the poison and she wondered for a moment whether this was worth the risk it posed to her. Moana could feel the taint working through the layers of the sea she'd drawn around her. It was biting into her skin, beginning to erode her. She let her body fall away, turning into sea spray and catching the breeze upstream for a few hundred metres until she couldn't hold herself apart for any longer and she crashed into the river, her body forming too fast and her knees and hands grazing against the river rocks.
He was too far away and she was never going to get there. Tears slid down her face and she cried out, "Jake!" She closed her eyes and tried to push on but the river repelled her and the toxins were too strong. Her grip on herself slipped and with it the sea tugged her back. But she willed herself to be as heavy as the sea rocks, as weighty as the bottom of the sea and she stopped.
She had to find another way, because this wasn't going to work. She would end up dead, alongside Jake. So she let go, let the sea draw her home, suck her back into his depths and charge her with its strength.
"Father, I need you now," she called. "Tangaroa, I need your strength. Jake is our best hope to eradicate the one who poisons us. We need him. I need him. Charge me with your power." She raised her arms and surged to the mouth of the river again, bringing all the power of the sea with it. She smashed against the shoreline and forced her waters up the stream in a tidal wave the like of which had not been seen for many a year.
The waves tried to roll back but she surged again, pushing them further, pushing her awareness along with it, reaching, grasping for the wounded man she knew lay in her path.
And there he was, she could feel him, caught on a rock. Moana felt the power of her father course through her as Tangaroa's awareness overlapped hers and he found worth in Jake. The waves clawed at Jake's body and dragged him, called him back down the river, unable to prevent him from banging against rocks and tree branches along the way.
Moana gripped his arm and dragged him to her into the welcoming depths of the sea. She could feel the faint charge of his magic, and the fainter pound of his heart. His blood flowed freely, too many small wounds to count, too many shadows and bruises lacing his face and arms.
There was no time to think or form a plan. Moana acted on instinct and drew her claws, slicing her own skin this time, tearing her flesh apart and calling on the healing power of the sea to mingle their blood and make Jake whole again.
The power of Tangaroa still swept through Moana as she turned Jake to face her, his eyes slid open for a moment before she pressed her mouth to his and kissed with all her might. His magic charged through her and she could feel the currents of it in the water, flooding her system in a way that the water alone never had.
And then his hands were pressing against her, pulling her closer than she thought possible and
his mouth was moving against hers as if this were the last kiss he would ever have. She was lost in the sensation of his lips on hers, of his hand tangling in her hair and crushing against her back, brought to life by this magical connection between them.
She bore them down, down to the bottom of the sea, the force of his body against hers proof that he was no longer in mortal danger. His eyes were wide with wonder, dark with passion and she felt a grin break free.
Jake was alive, alive beneath the sea, with her.
Something in the mingling of their magic had saved him, closed his wounds—her wounds too—renewed his vigour and fed his hunger for her.
He nuzzled into her neck, nipping her with teeth white and bright in the depths of the ocean, and she lost herself in the wonder of his body.
Chapter Eleven
When Jake came to he could see sunlight streaming through water, beams of light danced against the sand, distorted by the ripple of waves. He opened his mouth to speak and it filled with liquid. In his panic he almost swallowed, but he managed to force the liquid out, trying not to breathe as he forced his way to the surface of the sea, his lungs threatening to burst.
He broke through, grabbing onto a nearby rock, and gulped air until his heart beat less quickly.
Jake scanned around, trying to orient himself. Walls of rock surrounded him and he could see now that the light was a lie of sorts, not coming from the open sky but from a large hole in the ceiling of the cave. There was a ledge to his left and he swam over and pulled himself up, his arms aching as he did.
"What the hell is going on here?" Jake slicked his hands through his hair, pushing cool water down his back. His clothes were ragged and scars from wounds he couldn't even remember dotted his arms.
The last thing he recalled was being at the shed. The old man had attacked him with a ferocity Jake hadn’t expected. He'd been dragged to the river, dumped like those toxins and now he was here in some sea cave? It didn't make sense. He felt better than he had any right to.
He brushed his hand across his lips, the contact bringing back another memory.
Moana. She'd been there, she'd caught him and...done something to him. His gut clenched and he did a quick tally of his body. Everything felt...fine. Better than fine. He felt strong. Powerful.
She'd saved him.
As if the mere thought had summoned her, Moana broke through the surface of the water, a smile gracing her lips. "You're awake," she said, simply, as though it were the most normal thing in the world.
"Where am I?" He stood, his hands balling into fists against his thighs.
She emerged from the sea, water dripping down her skin. She was naked, the rivulets of water dripping down her skin highlighting her toned body, her heavy breasts. He could feel his cock twitch but he pushed his lust aside. There were more important things to think about right now—though he was having a hard time remembering what they were.
"You're safe, don't worry." She approached him cautiously, reached a hand out and threaded it through the torn layers of his clothing to touch his stomach. Her fingers weren't chilly like he remembered them from that night on the beach. Hell, it had only been a day ago. Now she felt warm, her skin silky against his.
He stepped back before he lost his focus. "Look, I don't know what you've done to me, but I'm going to admit I'm a little bit freaked out. One minute I'm being beaten to a pulp and thrown in a river and the next I'm here, pain free." He spread his arms.
Moana giggled a little as she pushed the hair back from her face. While her outward appearance was light-hearted he could see the heaviness in her eyes. She was worried too.
"Your magic and mine had a little party." She cocked an eyebrow. "It was pretty intense. You don't remember?" Moana raised her hand and trailed fingers down his cheek. Her nails dug slightly into his skin and he gasped as memory flooded in.
Claws, not nails, rending her flesh, not his. He drew back, blinking that vision from his mind.
"You bled for me."
"I bled with you," Moana corrected him, stepping in and pressing her lips to his.
He remembered more then, kissing her, touching her, wanting her more than anything else, driven by desire to the floor of the sea.
The floor of the sea.
He pulled away, backed into the wall and jagged rocks sliced tiny incisions into his flesh.
"Look," Moana said, placing her hands on his chest. "All I really know is that you were dying. I could feel it in the water as it met the sea, your blood mixed with that toxin. I tried to come and get you but I wasn't strong enough, not until I called on Tangaroa, and when he came to my aid, I pulled you back to the sea." She paused, sucking in her lower lip. Tears pooled in her eyes. "You were dying and I didn't know what to do." She shrugged, whispered, "I couldn't let you die."
Jake was torn between demanding to know why she couldn't let him die, and thanking her for saving him—though he wasn't sure whether he should be thankful just yet. The miracle of his recovery meant he'd been changed, and he couldn't fathom the full repercussions of that yet. He took a deep breath and rolled his shoulders, trying to dispel some of the tension there.
"Why?" he asked, his voice low, tenuous. Maybe he didn't want to know the answer.
"Why what?" Moana's brow furrowed.
"Why couldn't you let me die?" Jake huffed out a breath. "I mean, I'm thankful, I think, but why? You didn't have to save me."
"Yes, I did." She gripped his chin with her hand, forced him to look into her eyes which swirled with all the blues and greens of the ocean. "You might not believe me, but I care for you, Jake. I don't enlist the help of just anyone. I thought I'd been obvious about that."
He couldn't help but laugh. "You're the most complicated woman I've ever met. It's like you're two women."
It was her turn to shrug. "I am. Sometimes I'm the human girl from before I drowned, and other times I am Moana, goddess of the sea. And now you, you're two people too."
"What do you mean?"
"You're part of the ocean, Jake. Tangaroa claimed you when our magic mixed, he gave you the breath of the sea. Please don't hate me for it." Tears slid down her cheek now and he brushed them away, placing kisses where they fell. He could feel her pain in the way his chest constricted.
"I don't hate you, Moana. I don't think I could." He held her face and made her look up at him. "You want me, don't you? For me?"
"I want you, Jake. I've wanted you since I first felt your lips on mine."
He crushed his mouth against hers, kissing her deeply. Her lips weren't cold anymore, or maybe his were cold too and he just couldn't tell. It didn't matter. All he'd ever wanted was to be wanted, for himself, and not for his magic. Moana wanted him, and he wanted her. Wanted this.
She drew back and pressed their foreheads together. "I hate to break the moment, but we still have that little problem to deal with."
"I know. It's personal now, not just for you, but for me. He tried to kill me, Moana. He's trying to kill you."
"So what are we going to do?"
Jake sighed. He knew what had to be done, but where he expected to feel defeated, or like he wasn't good enough, there was nothing. He had more than his pride to worry himself with now. "We're going to talk to my friends and fix this."
"Who?"
"My sister. She's your cousin, kind of..." He had to laugh—the realization had only just hit him.
Moana looked quizzical. "What do you mean?"
"She's Tāwhirimātea's child. She was there on the beach the day we met, do you remember?"
Moana shook her head, a small smile playing on her lips. "The only thing I saw was you."
Jake chuckled. "I'm pleased we're past that whole 'you killing me' thing."
She gave him a chaste kiss. "Me too. We're a team now, right?"
"A team." He nodded. "You're going to have to help me get out of there though, I have no idea..."
Moana grasped his hand and led him to the edge of the ledge. "Don't freak out, okay
? This will seem counterintuitive, but trust me."
Jake squeezed her fingers. "I do."
She pulled his hand, dove into the sea, and he followed, amazed by the sensation of the water on his skin—it felt like silk against his body, the resistance normally present was entirely gone and he moved with a speed he'd never achieved before.
His mouth was clamped tight but he tried to keep his eyes open as Moana dove them deep down into the sea. Jake pulled back, tried to fight for the surface but she grasped both of his hands and forced him to face her.
It's okay. Breathe, Jake.
He could see her lips move, but the words came to him in some other way, undistorted by the sea. He shook his head fiercely and fought for the surface again but she gripped him, stronger than he was, her nails digging into his hands as she pressed her lips to him. He opened up to her, his natural instinct now. Water flooded into his mouth like it was oxygen. The sea was inside him, and he wasn't drowning. It felt natural and unnatural at the same time and his whole body shook with the shock of it.
It's okay, Jake. You're okay.
He forced his body still, forced himself to take a purposeful breath of liquid, to stay calm at the sensation of breathing in the water.
Are you good? she asked.
He couldn't form words yet, so he nodded, grinned, wanted to laugh at how ridiculous this was. How amazing.
Moana tugged on his hand and motioned down, and this time he followed, his fear gone, his mind blown.
Holy shit. He could breathe under water. He was a part of the sea.
Chapter Twelve
They surfaced just off the shore, a bit down the coast from the main area of town. Moana inhaled, drawing the image of clothing around her as she stood, noticing the tang of wood-smoke in the air. Jake stepped from the sea, his legs a little wobbly after so much time in the water. She wondered whether it felt different now, stepping onto land now that he was changed.
"Come on," he said. When she didn't move he reached for her hand and tugged her forward.
