by Rose Wulf
“To make a point,” Jacob replied, stepping toward the bench seat he’d just hauled her off of. “You involved yourself with the first-born, the water elemental.” He paused and looked back at her, his eyes boring into hers. “What better way for you to die, then, but by drowning?”
Brooke swallowed heavily as she realized his point. Disbelief numbed her aching body as she realized she had lost. She was too weak to fight and beat him. And she was too far from shore to make it back alive.
Another dark smirk curved his lips. “Unless, of course, the sharks get you first. You are still bleeding, after all.”
Sharks…? Brooke’s mind whispered, another wave of fear sweeping over her. She couldn’t decide which would be worse—death by drowning, or being mauled to death by hungry sharks.
“I hope you’ve made your peace,” Jacob stated plainly as he quite suddenly shifted and threw his weight forward, toward the rim of the boat.
When he moved, still holding her arm, he threw Brooke sharply to the side. She wasn’t expecting the move; wobbly as she was on her feet at that moment, she toppled into the ledge and rolled right over. As soon as the rest of her body was over, he released her arm, letting her free-fall.
Brooke cried out as she flew forward, colliding roughly with the hard edge of the boat, before her momentum carried her the rest of the way over. Her mouth was still open, not quite screaming, when she crashed into the water.
The waves, and her terrible angle, slammed her solidly against the side of the boat even as she choked and gasped, trying to spit out the water she’d swallowed. But when her head collided with the boat a second time, everything went dark.
****
Blake could feel the boat now, resting in the water just ahead of him. And as soon as he registered that realization, he could see it, too. But almost immediately the boat turned back on, as if the Mystery Man knew he was there.
Blake paused in the water, preparing to stall the boat—he couldn’t simply flip it if Brooke was on board—when he registered a sight that made his blood run cold.
Brooke was sinking, her body limp and her mouth partially open, several feet beneath the boat. And a slim trail of blood was floating up, off her arm.
He didn’t need to think about his decision as he swam quickly forward again. At that point, he didn’t particularly care if the boat—and its driver—got away. Brooke’s life was more important.
Blake was beneath her in an instant, one strong arm curving around her and halting her descent. Simultaneously, he stopped the flow of the water from continuing to fill her lungs and, with a little focus, he carefully pulled out the water she’d already swallowed. Before she could choke and gasp for air she wouldn’t find, he leaned forward and covered her lips solidly with his.
When she gasped, as he’d known she would, he breathed air into her, holding her lips firmly over his. He was suddenly glad he’d taken a deep breath before he’d hit the water.
Brooke, undoubtedly confused and aching, struggled when she realized someone was holding her. But then she seemed to realize what was happening—or at least who was holding her—and she relaxed into his touch.
Blake pulled away when she stopped fighting him, placing a finger over her lips to remind her to keep her mouth closed. She had barely nodded when he shifted his focus back to their surroundings. A single kick of his feet sent them rocketing up, and within seconds, they were above the surface once more.
Immediately, Brooke opened her mouth and sucked in ragged, gasping breaths.
“Where…?” she gasped, looking around.
“Shh,” Blake said gently. “Just breathe. We’ll be fine.” Even as he spoke, he felt the water behind and beneath them slide over something large and moving in, but he bit back the curse. He didn’t want to worry her over something he could handle.
Brooke let her head land in the crook of his neck as she focused on her breathing. But as she lowered her head, she must have seen something move in the water behind them. Her voice weak, but no longer choked, she said, “Blake!”
“It’s fine,” Blake said calmly. He easily redirected the water around them to swirl in a tight, controlled whirlpool, effectively shielding them from the first lunge of the approaching shark. As the hungry beast recoiled, preparing for a second attempt, Blake shot the swirling water toward it, forcing it back.
“How’s your breathing?” he asked gently.
“Better,” Brooke admitted.
Before she could ask any questions, and before the shark came in for a third strike, Blake said, “Keep your head on my shoulder, okay? And hold on to me if you can.”
Brooke nodded and shifted, pulling her injured arm from the water and wrapping it around his shoulders as best she could.
Blake smiled faintly and angled their bodies forward without submerging them entirely. And then they were off, speeding toward shore.
He knew it was entirely possible that they would catch up with their enemy, but he wasn’t concerned. Now that he knew Brooke wasn’t on board, he wouldn’t feel any qualms about sinking the boat with the Mystery Man in it.
His priority, however, was getting Brooke safely on dry land. And he really hoped Georgia had done as he’d asked and called his brother.
As they glided through the water, Blake kept his eyes peeled for their enemy, but even as they began approaching the dock, he saw no sign of the boat. He must have docked somewhere else, Blake realized. It wasn’t overly surprising. Their enemies had been incredibly careful so far, and logically it would be too risky to return with the stolen rental boat and without the kidnapped woman.
His suspicions were confirmed when they got a little closer to the dock. One rental boat was still missing, just as there had been when he’d leapt off that very dock a short while before.
Blake automatically slowed their pace when they were close enough, moving one arm and kicking his feet a bit more than necessary, as if he were swimming normally. He didn’t want to assume there wouldn’t be a few too many witnesses.
Brooke lifted her head a bit when she realized they’d slowed down, but she kept her arm tightly around his shoulders. “Are we back?” she asked, her voice still softer than usual. She was still hurting.
“Just about,” Blake assured her quietly. He relaxed when the only figures to run up to the end of the dock were Nate, Logan, and Christopher. Their speed increased marginally, quickly closing the gap between them and the dock, and Blake said, “Take Brooke.”
Nate knelt down and held out his arms. “I’ve got her,” he promised even as the air around them swirled and began gently curling around Brooke.
“It’s okay,” Blake said, aiming a reassuring smile to her. “He won’t drop you.”
Brooke slowly nodded and released his shoulders. Almost immediately, she was pulled up in a controlled vortex, before the air began carrying her towards the trio on the dock.
The swirling air gently lowered Brooke into Logan’s arms, and it wasn’t until she was settled that she gasped, “Georgia! Where’s Georgia?”
“She’s fine,” Christopher assured her quickly as he and Nate helped pull Blake out of the water. “Dean and Angela are with her. Angela just finished healing her.”
As Blake pushed to his feet, he asked, “You got Ange out of class already?”
“Of course we did,” Christopher replied. “It’s a legitimate family emergency, after all.”
Logan stepped up to Blake, and Blake scooped Brooke back into his arms carefully.
“Come on,” Christopher said, gesturing toward the beach. “Angela’s waiting to heal Brooke.” He paused, his concerned gaze sweeping over his eldest son, and he asked, “Are you hurt?”
Blake shook his head as the group began walking back down the dock. “No, I’m fine. But Brooke definitely needs healing.”
“Brooke can still hear you,” Brooke said quietly, the humor she’d probably intended falling flat.
“Good,” Blake said, smiling down at her faintly. After a
minute, as they neared the steps, he asked, “Did you see where the boat went?”
“It drove past the dock,” Logan declared.
“I thought about flying after it,” Nate added, an uncharacteristic weight to his words, “but it was too risky. And we didn’t know where you and Brooke were.”
“Blake! Brooke!” Angela exclaimed from where she knelt on the sand beside Georgia. Georgia was resting, her body fully engulfed in the deep, rejuvenating slumber that accompanied Angela’s healing.
Dean was in the process of rolling out another beach towel, on Angela’s other side, but he paused to look up and ascertain that his brother was all right.
When Dean stepped back, Blake moved and knelt beside the towel, helping Brooke to stretch out. “Just relax,” Blake instructed softly. Once she was supported by the sand beneath the towel, he reached up and carefully, lightly, brushed back a strand of wet hair from her forehead.
Brooke offered him a weak smile, before her gaze shifted to look around at the gathered family. Her attention was pulled away from them, though, as Angela knelt on her other side.
“You’ll feel better when you wake up,” Angela promised as she reached out and covered Brooke’s forehead with one hand. Her other hand hovered, not quite touching, over Brooke’s injured forearm.
As the familiar golden glow formed over Angela’s hands—and the associated areas of Brooke’s body—Brooke returned her gaze to Blake and whispered, “Thank you.”
Blake’s smile was tight, and he swallowed heavily before he managed, “You’re welcome. Now rest.”
No one said anything until Brooke’s eyes had drifted shut and her breathing had evened out. The golden glow of Angela’s power was surrounding her entire body now, faintly pulsating as the younger girl concentrated on the task at hand.
Blake dragged in a deep breath and lifted his eyes from Brooke’s face until they settled on Angela’s. “Angie,” he called softly. His sister lifted her gaze from her patient in silent curiosity, and he said, “Thank you.”
Angela smiled reassuringly. “She’s family, right?” She said nothing more as her eyes returned to Brooke.
A hand landed on Blake’s shoulder and Blake turned, seeing that the hand belonged to his father. Taking the hint, Blake leaned back and pushed to his feet before stepping slightly away and turning to face his family.
“You’re sure you’re all right?” Christopher asked quietly.
Blake nodded. “I am. I just wish I’d been able to stop the bastard while I’d been out there.”
“Don’t beat yourself up,” Logan said. “You did what you had to, and you kept Brooke alive.”
“Yeah,” Nate added. “We all know those jerks will show up again—and when they do, we’ll give ‘em hell for this.”
Blake took a deep breath and nodded again. “I know,” he said. Something occurred to him then, and as his gaze flicked over to the seemingly closed rental shop, he asked, “What happened to the employees?”
Dean laughed even as Christopher grinned and offered a shrug, saying, “I might have mentioned that the girls’ boat had been stolen, and I’d seen it take off toward that boat dock a few miles south of here. Then I offered to pay for the rest of the boats for the day so that the shop wouldn’t be out any money, and when he ran off to catch up with the stolen boat, he never looked over, so he didn’t see Angela or Georgia.”
“And he just believed you?” Blake asked, arching one eyebrow curiously. He certainly didn’t think he would have believed that story.
“Turns out our old man’s a pretty convincing liar,” Dean explained with a grin.
With a mock-lecturing voice, Christopher replied, “Which is entirely acceptable and forgivable, provided I only use that talent when it’s necessary. Situations like this, for instance.”
“I don’t know why I ever thought you weren’t cool,” Dean joked.
“You were a teenager,” Christopher said calmly. “It happens to the best of us.”
Short, strained laughter followed the declaration, and the group fell silent again.
It was Nate who eventually spoke up, his eyes having strayed over to Georgia’s still-sleeping form. “So … we’re going to have to tell her everything, aren’t we?”
Four other sets of eyes followed his, and Christopher sighed. “I suppose we are.”
“It’s too bad we can’t just convince her that she slipped, hit her head on a rock, and dreamt the whole thing,” Dean said with a frown.
“That doesn’t work in the real world, Dean,” Blake replied. Despite his words, he agreed with his brother. It was better with fewer people knowing their secret—especially with dangerous enemies running around. And Georgia wasn’t known for her ability to avoid gossip. So they would just have to hope she could keep this secret.
****
“She’ll be fine,” Brooke declared as they turned back toward town and Blake’s house. The family had explained everything to Georgia, who had insisted on staying with Brooke until she’d woken up. Brooke hadn’t been surprised to learn that they’d told Georgia the truth, and in turn she told them what she’d learned—the Mystery Man’s name.
After all the information had been shared, Georgia had asked to be driven back to her car, which was still in the parking lot at the beach. So Blake, Brooke, and Georgia had piled into his Mustang, and Blake had taken them back to the beach. Georgia departed with the promise to call Brooke later, and the couple watched in silence as she fast-walked to her car.
Brooke felt horrible. She was berating herself for not listening to Blake’s warning the night before, and for not thinking of it on her own before she’d even agreed to the trip. Because of her thoughtless stubbornness, she had gotten her best friend hurt and nearly gotten herself killed. And now her best friend was understandably freaked out, not having any sort of clue how to react to the situation.
The only thing Brooke could use to console herself with was the fact that, despite the danger, Blake hadn’t gotten hurt, too. For whatever reason, Jacob hadn’t seen fit to stick around. Maybe he never even knew Blake was there. But it didn’t matter. So much damage had already been done.
“I’m sorry,” Blake said quietly. His voice was tight, matching the grip he had on his steering wheel, and he kept his eyes on the road.
Brooke let him pull her out of her thoughts and turned her head in his direction. She knew what he was apologizing for, so she didn’t ask. Instead, she said, “You don’t have to apologize. If it weren’t for you I’d be dead right now. I’m the one who needs to apologize.” She paused, intending to do just that, when Blake interrupted what she was about to say.
“It’s my fault you’ve gotten dragged into this in the first place,” he insisted. One hand released the wheel, and he reached over to pull one of Brooke’s hands into his. “I nearly lost you today.” The words were low and filled with a kind of pain Brooke wished she couldn’t recognize.
She squeezed his hand reassuringly, her other hand covering his as she held his hand in her lap. Softly, Brooke said, “I knew what I was getting myself into, remember? And that means none of this is your fault.”
Blake said nothing, but he let her keep his hand sandwiched between hers as he turned onto his street. He didn’t agree with her—she knew that. It wasn’t the first time they’d had this argument.
Taking his hint, Brooke fell silent once more. She knew he was upset, she was pretty sure she knew why, and there was nothing she could do to make him feel better. So she watched quietly as he pulled into his garage, and she made no attempt to move until the door rolled shut behind them.
They remained silent as they eased out of the car and Blake led the way into the house.
Relief washed over Brooke when she stepped through the door. Her eyes swept over the familiar space as she finally allowed herself to realize just how close she’d come to never seeing it again. To never seeing her family or friends again. Never telling Blake exactly how much he meant to her. And why not? What
am I waiting for?
“Brooke…?” Blake asked carefully when he realized she wasn’t still walking behind him. He was facing her, concern clouding his eyes as he searched her expression.
Brooke took a deep, shaky breath and smiled. “I’m okay,” she said. “I’m just … happy to be here.”
Blake opened his mouth to say something, a flicker of relief in his eyes, when he was interrupted by the ringing of his telephone.
They both jumped at the unexpected noise, their heads immediately swiveling toward the kitchen, where the phone was mounted on the wall above the counter.
Frowning suspiciously, Blake quickly strode to the kitchen and lifted the device from its cradle. “Hello?” He paused, listening to the caller, before saying, “Yeah, just a second.” Then he pulled the phone from his ear, placed his free palm over the mouthpiece, and stage-whispered, “It’s for you.”
Confusion settled on Brooke’s face, and she stepped up, taking the phone from him as he moved back to give her breathing room. “Yes?”
****
Blake watched as she listened to her former landlord. She had already received all the money she was due as a result of the fire, so he was curious as to why the man was calling. He shifted and leaned against the counter a few feet away, crossing his arms as Brooke finally spoke.
“Oh,” she said, clearly surprised. Her eyes flicked over to Blake, but she looked away quickly and said, “Um, thank you. I do appreciate you calling, but, is it all right if I take the day to think it over? I promise I can give you an answer by tomorrow morning.”
Answer to what? Blake wondered as his lips curved in a frown. A potential answer popped into place in his head, seeming like the most realistic reason for the call, and Blake’s stomach clenched. He didn’t want to be right. And more importantly, he didn’t want Brooke to accept the offer if he was.
Then he remembered something else, and before he could second-guess himself, he pushed from the counter and turned to the hall. He could hear Brooke ending the conversation in the kitchen, but he kept going.
