Watermark (The Emerald Series Book 3)

by James, Kimberly

  His mom and brother tried to ease his obvious discomfort by talking to him, though by now he was beyond understanding. His mind had become muddled again. He wished Erin were here. He wished she would tell him his name.

  His body came alive under his skin, demanding something Jamie couldn't give it. His muscles convulsed, and he stumbled over to the grate in the floor and vomited, his body a mass of heaving, quaking muscle. After he’d emptied his stomach, he felt so depleted he could barely stand and had to use the wall for support.

  Weak. Without the Deep he was so weak. She mocked him from beyond the walls of this place.

  I warned you. You don't belong here.

  When the water gushed out of the wall and his tank filled, Jamie moaned, a sad, pathetic sound. His mom and brother stood side by side, their hands clutched, their gazes empathetic. And when his cage filled and the water seeped into his pores, he wanted to cry with relief. His mind cleared and his body felt strong again. But he knew it wouldn't last. All too soon he would be a craving mass of quivering muscle again, a cycle of relief then deprivation.

  Jamie. He would tell himself, and knowing his name gave him the courage to endure the hour until the next gush of water came and his mind with it.

  After his tank drained for the third time, Marshall came back and escorted his mom out. She'd left teary-eyed after issuing promises to come back tomorrow. Noah lingered and Jamie failed to interpret the look in his brother's eyes. He only knew he didn't want his brother to leave.

  Noah turned to follow his mom and Jamie felt a stab of raw panic. He'd been alone for too long. He didn't want to be alone anymore.

  "Noah," he said and he thought it sounded almost right.

  Noah stalled and looked back and when Jamie put his hand on the barrier, Noah walked over and mirrored his hand as if he too were struggling with saying goodbye.

  "How long?" Jamie asked, hoping Noah understood, knowing he'd butchered the words. But he had to know. He had to know how long he'd been gone.

  "Almost two years," Noah said slowly.

  Jamie stilled as his brother's words permeated his working mind. Two years? He had no idea it had been that long. No wonder they were all so stunned. No wonder his mom couldn't seem to stop crying. They'd lived two years believing him dead?

  Erin had lived two years without him.

  The air rushed out of Jamie's lungs and the words poured from his mouth, garbled and distorted. He repeated them, hoping Noah understood. He needed him to know.

  “Shit,” Noah said, averting his gaze, his throat working as he wiped at his eyes. Jamie felt the burn behind his own.

  When Noah had gathered his emotions, he looked back at Jamie and when their eyes locked again, it rooted Jamie in place, his brother’s words sealing him to this world.

  “I love you too, brother. Don’t ever die on me again.”

  19

  The hour I’d spent with Jamie hadn't been nearly enough.

  He’d spent most of the time swimming in what was little more than a glorified fish tank. The water eventually drained away and he'd stood before me, saltwater dripping over his skin. There was a determination in the way he kept his hands on the barrier as close to mine as possible. The way he searched my face as if he were trying to remember every small detail. It felt like abandoning him when I’d walked out the door, my only consolation knowing he'd get to see Noah and his mom. They hadn't wanted to overwhelm him with too many visitors at once. They considered his mental state precarious.

  My dad had taken me home, but I'd still been reeling with a tsunami of unnamed emotions. After hours of pacing my room, I'd driven to Jamie's house. At one time it had been my house too, in those days and weeks right after we were married. We'd had plans to get a place of our own once the baby was born. Instead, I'd moved back in with my dad. Without Jamie. Without our baby.

  It felt odd knocking on the door. Odder still when Mrs. Jacobs answered. She looked pleased to see me, which was a relief. In the past that hadn't always been the case. She'd accepted me as part of the family for Jamie's sake, but unlike my dad, who loved Jamie for his own merit, Mrs. Jacobs’s feelings for me were solely because of Jamie. She'd never voiced her opinion out loud but she didn't have to. It was clear she would have preferred Jamie stick to his own kind. I could never give her the kind of grandchildren she wanted. But I couldn't fault her. She'd been nothing but heartbroken when I lost the baby. It was all any of us had left of him. Or so we believed at the time.

  "They have him caged like an animal," I said, blinking away indignant tears.

  "I know." She held the door wider, inviting me inside.

  Minutes later, we were settled at the kitchen table, a glass of iced tea for me, a glass of red wine for her, a plate of brownies between us. I loved my mom. My dad and I had a solid relationship, but the Jacobs’s house had a homey feel ours had lacked, even when my parents were still together. Candles always burned and Mrs. Jacobs always had something fresh baked on the counter. In spite of all the loss those living under this roof had suffered, the overwhelming feeling I got when I walked in was one of comfort and oddly, hope.

  "Do you think he'll get better?" I asked cautiously, as though Jamie were sick. "He won't always be like this, will he?"

  "He'll get better." The touch of Mrs. Jacobs’s hand was light and warm on my arm. "He needs you right now. I think he needs all of us."

  "Do you mind too much if I spend some time in his room?" It had been my room at one time too. The bed we shared for a few short weeks.

  "Of course not," she said, her smile warm and genuine. "He'd like knowing you were here."

  "I didn't want to impose," I said, picking at my brownie.

  "Erin, I'm extremely fond of you. You mean a lot to Jamie, and Noah as well. You will always be part of this family, even if Jamie hadn't returned to us. I'm sorry I haven't made you more aware of that. You're always welcome here. This is your home."

  "Thank you, Mrs. Jacobs."

  "Please, I think it's time you call me Lara."

  Jamie's room smelled the same. A heady mixture of ocean breezes and clean, salty sand. He'd never had blinds or curtains on his windows, never wanting to be where he couldn't see the beach. A picture of the two of us taken the day we were married still sat on his dresser. We'd exchanged our vows right behind the house. Then we’d spent a few weeks in what I would call wedded bliss.

  That bliss had ended all too soon.

  I fell back on the bed, reacquainting myself with the idea of Jamie being alive. The implications spun through my mind. I was no longer a widow. I had a husband. When he was better—and I, like Mrs. Jacobs, wanted to believe he would get better—would he expect me to live here with him? Would things go back to the way they were before? Was that even possible? It was almost too much for me to wrap my mind around.

  "Hey." Noah's voice pulled me from my musings, keeping me from thoughts I wasn't ready to have yet. He leaned in the doorway, his green eyes bright with restrained excitement.

  "Hey," I said. My thoughts traveled back to the last night I'd spent in this room. I tried never to think of it. Waking in the dark, my boxers drenched in blood. Screaming Noah's name. Him charging into the room and scooping me from the bed, sheets and all.

  The night my heart unequivocally broke.

  "At least we got to see him today," Noah said, and I scooted over to give him room on the bed.

  "Yes. He said my name." I sighed. "God Noah, I can't believe he's alive. I was afraid to go to sleep last night. I was afraid I'd wake up this morning to find none of it was real."

  "Yeah. After that first time I saw him, I wondered if it really happened. If Caris hadn't seen him, I probably would have thought I was nuts."

  "He's unbelievable," I whispered, seeing again Jamie's extraordinary hands, the slant of his eyes as they devoured me, the strength that emanated off him in pulsing waves.

  Noah shrugged and a deep knowing passed in his eyes. "You didn't see me those first few days after I c
ame back from looking for him. I spent months out in the Deep." He held up his hands and spread his fingers. "I had webs between my fingers. Those first few days back on land I would wake up confused and it would take me a few seconds to remember my name, where I was."

  "I remember you being skinny," I said, pinching his ribs. He was still lean, but he'd filled back out and then some.

  "Yeah," he said. "I would say Jamie's time in the Deep has had the opposite affect. I always thought he was big before." He shook his head, his face wearing a look of wonder.

  "Is it going to work? Will he come back? The Jamie he was before?"

  Noah took my hand, eyes finding mine. "It'll work, Erin. It has to."

  * * *

  On day two of visitations, I drove myself to the Facility.

  Noah and I had talked well into the night, and I'd ended up falling asleep in Jamie's bed.

  Our bed, I reminded myself, choosing to ignore the conflicted feelings that came with the thought. I'd woken with the sun and gone home to shower and change.

  I was met at the door by Dr. Somers, but she looked too young to be a doctor. Her blonde hair was pulled back in a severe ponytail and she wore black-rimmed glasses, the eyes behind the lenses cool and no-nonsense. Offering the barest of greetings and nothing else, she led me down the same winding hallways I'd traversed the day before. I was too nervous to start up a conversation, though I hardly had anything to say to her or anyone else on staff here. At least nothing that wouldn't potentially get my dad in trouble. I already didn't like her. She was part of the they. She was the reason Jamie was locked up in the first place.

  "Stay as long as you like," she said as she scanned her card and unlocked the door. She looked at me briefly. "There's a bathroom down the hallway to your right and vending machines. Though this door locks automatically. You'll have to come back to the front reception window and get someone to let you back in."

  "Thank you,” I said, walking through the door. Once inside, I forgot all about Dr. Somers.

  Jamie seemed to be waiting for me. He sprang to his feet the minute the door closed behind me, and once again, all my doubts and misgivings from my sleepless hours in his bed the night before disintegrated under his stare. Once I'd fallen asleep, my dreams had been anxiety filled. I'd dreamed of coming back here, only it wasn't Jamie in this cage, it was Michael. In my dreams Jamie had been lost to me again, his legs had been gone replaced with a tail and he'd been angry at me. But they were only dreams, and he was here and he was alive and I experienced an overwhelming happiness at seeing him again.

  It might have been a trick of my imagination or wishful thinking, but he looked different today—less monstrous. His hair was wet and cinched at the back of his neck, revealing the smooth hard line of his jaw and his prominent cheekbones. He looked like a Celtic warrior from a different time with the slash of blueish skin that crossed his face, cutting it in half diagonally from his left eyebrow over the tip of his nose, and bisecting his lips. It ended under his jaw as the color faded into the skin on his neck like well-worn denim.

  “Erin.” His voice stuttered over the consonant, making my name sound harsh. Eggrrrn. His eyes held a question as though he were still trying to put my face with the word.

  “Yes,” I said, laying my hand flat against the barrier. “It’s me.”

  So many questions I wanted to ask. What happened? Where have you been? Why did it take you so long to come back?

  His eyes strayed to my hand, and he slowly lifted his own and placed it to the barrier. I sensed his frustration at not being able to touch. I wanted to touch that hand, webs and all and reassure myself with the feel of his warm flesh. And I had no doubt it would be warm despite the coolness in the air.

  He struggled with more words, his throat constricting in an attempt to force out the right sounds. He wanted to speak, but it was as if he’d simply forgotten how.

  “I… sorrrrry.” Again he ground through the r’s and his voice, while familiar, was lower pitched, running over my skin like a feather-light touch. It was a good voice. A voice I could get used to.

  “Don’t be,” I said. “You’re alive. That’s all that matters.”

  His eyes were intent on my lips, watching them move around each word, his forehead furrowed as though it were taking every bit of his concentration to understand. I thought he did though because his posture softened, the muscles of his torso and arms falling into relief.

  My eyes drifted to our hands pressed to the acrylic, palm to palm. His dwarfed mine, making them look like the hands of a little girl in comparison. Seeing Jamie now, I thought Michael was lucky Jamie hadn’t killed him.

  “Won’t hurt you,” he said, as though divining my thoughts.

  “No,” I said, meeting his eyes with solid assuredness. “You won’t.”

  His expression relaxed at my agreement. He nodded as though it was important to him that I knew he wouldn’t hurt me. We stared at each other for a long time, our breath mingling in puffs of fog on the wall between us. His eyes flickered and I could see his mind working behind those eyes, the darker shade of green flecked with what looked like rays of sunlight. I wished I knew what he was thinking. I thought they had it all wrong. His mental state wasn't precarious. I saw the intelligence in his eyes, the thoughts working underneath their depths.

  When the buzzer sounded neither of us moved. Water gushed inside the tank and the air spiked with the scent of salt.

  “Stay.” His eyes begged over me, the hollow plea in his voice, making my chest constrict and my fingers curl in on themselves.

  “I’ll stay,” I said, as if anything could drag me away.

  His hand slipped from the wall and I mourned the loss of the almost contact. He walked over and stood under the flow of water. His eyes closed as the water washed over his face and shoulders, streaming over his chest and down his powerful legs. His body thrummed with energy, his scale-like skin radiating blue, a toxic glow that seemed to come from underneath his skin. I wondered what it would feel like under my hands, whether it would be rough or smooth, whether there would come a day when I would find out.

  He waited until the tank was completely full before opening his eyes. They immediately found mine and I sucked in an involuntary breath. Despite his affirmations he wouldn't hurt me, I stepped back. The water made him different and infused him with a power that was intimidating. It shimmered in his eyes and scoured every inch of his massive frame, which seemed impossibly bigger now. I imagined he had nothing whatsoever to fear in the Deep.

  He swam toward me then, propelling himself around the confines of the tank. I was reminded of the times before I even knew his name, when I used to watch him swim, the way he drew me in and made me love him by the way he moved. I felt that draw now as though my blood flowed to the tempo of his powerful movements. Watching him spurned a yearning I’d learned to squelch. Monster that he was, all I saw was beauty.

  After a few minutes, he came to a stop in front of me, suspended in the water. I'd worked at the aquarium during the summer months, and he reminded me of the dolphins in the observation tanks. According to Noah and Jeb, they didn't like being caged either. Jamie put both hands on the glass and smiled. A cocky smile, as though he basked in this new self. A smile I couldn't share.

  "What happened Jamie?" I heard myself ask.

  He made no attempt to answer. His smile faded and I wished he could talk to me and tell me what had happened. I imagined his story might be as tragic as mine. I was sure nothing short of tragedy would have kept him away.

  Dread built, starting deep in the pit of my stomach, rolling up to clog my throat. He'd want to know my story too. What had happened to me since he'd been away. Eventually he would ask and I would have to tell him. I would have to tell him our baby was dead.

  20

  Jamie sat with his back against the wall, elbows resting on his drawn-up knees. He hadn’t moved for hours. His eyes burned into the white emptiness of his cell. Something had nagged at him as he’d
watched Erin walk away from him yesterday. She'd stayed for hours. Through two cycles of the tank filling and draining. As Marshall had explained, they were slowly decreasing his exposure to the saltwater and Jamie's body felt the loss. His mind, though, was getting better with each passing hour.

  It was possible. He knew that now. Whatever the risk, he'd done the right thing exposing himself. The process was slow, but he felt it under his skin and in his veins. He was becoming human again. So he would keep fighting his body's demands and bring it into compliance with his mind. It was the only way to get back to her. To get back to his life and the people he loved. The people who loved him.

  Erin had been sad when she'd left him yesterday. Her eyes had always been hauntingly dark and beautiful, but he’d watched helpless and somehow convicted by the bone-deep sorrow she’d exuded and he hadn't understood. She’d wanted to say something. Her lips had parted and he'd heard her expelled breath, but the words had stayed trapped in her throat. His eyes had been riveted to the moisture he'd seen gathering in her eyes. Whatever it was she'd wanted to say made her sad, unbearably so.

  He’d known in that moment and the moments following that something was wrong. Something he should know. He’d seen it in her eyes every time he looked at her.

  She’d given up and left without telling him. Left him puzzling it out in his mind. Left him to curse his slowness, his stupidity. It had taken him hours to figure out what it was, and when his mind finally broke open, he’d collapsed to the floor and hadn’t moved.

  Now, his nose pricked at her scent. All he could smell was the sharp tang of salt and chemicals, but when she was near, he could smell her. Flowers and sun and her. He launched to his feet, taking his place by the barrier, and waited for her to come back through that door and break his heart.