Waterdreamer (The Emerald Series Book 2)

by Kimberly James

  Waterdreamer

  Kimberly James

  Contents

  Dedication

  Prologue

  One

  Two

  Three

  Four

  Five

  Six

  Seven

  Eight

  Nine

  Ten

  Eleven

  Twelve

  Thirteen

  Fourteen

  Fifteen

  Sixteen

  Seventeen

  Eighteen

  Nineteen

  Twenty

  Twenty-One

  Twenty-Two

  Twenty-Three

  Twenty-Four

  Copyright

  About the Author

  Watermark

  For Scott, because this one is about fathers and daughters.

  Prologue

  Rena gave birth in a storm.

  A tropical storm named Dennis. At least that's what the landers were calling it. A monster storm according to the meteorologist she'd last seen on the TV screen, gripping a microphone as though it had the ability to keep him from blowing away in the steadily increasing winds.

  They'd only gotten half of it right. This storm was a monster. A monster who claimed to love her. But Rena knew this monster's real name.

  Athen.

  Athen hadn't loved her. He'd hurt her.

  Rena cradled the seed of his ravaged mind in her arms. A perfect child he couldn't know existed because his mind still raged, an uncontrollable thing that threatened to consume her. Threatened to rip her from this very house. Rena heard the threats in every powerful gust of wind, a constant howling that was her name. The deluge that promised to drown her. Drown them both.

  Rena pressed her lips to the top of her daughter's head, inhaling her sweet baby scent. A scent she vowed to carry to her grave. Her daughter's eyes blinked bright in the soft candlelight, oblivious to the power howling outside the house. Or maybe she was calmed by it. Already she had his eyes, a pale gray that matched the clouds racing past her windows. She'd left one of the storm shutters open so she could watch the storm’s fury. As if she needed a reminder of what Athen was capable of.

  "Caris," she whispered into the soft, perfectly formed ear. The thin layers of skin behind the crescent shell contracted under her warm breath, sealing closed. Her resolve almost faltered, knowing it would be a long time before they opened again. If ever.

  Magic always comes with a price.

  And the price was great. She wouldn't regret it. How could she when she held such a gift in her arms?

  "I like it." Patrick's voice floated over her tired limbs as his gentle hand stroked over the tiny head cradled in the crook of her elbow. Patrick with his summer eyes. Eyes that told of warm breezes and endless days in the sun. Nothing stormy or threatening in those eyes, only an enduring calm and quiet strength.

  "It means love." Rena looked back down, unable to keep her eyes off her daughter for more than a few seconds. Time was too short. "She needs to know she's loved."

  "She'll know," Patrick said. Like her, he seemed unable to keep his hands off their baby. And Caris was his. She'd seen to that. The mattress dipped under his weight when he sat. "Is this okay? Are you comfortable?"

  "Yes, it's okay. I feel good. Better than good." Rena underestimated the pain involved in telling half-truths. The way her heart would catch, the way her voice quivered. The way her mind scrambled to justify them. She was weak, her arms straining to hold the new life in them. "I couldn't have done it without you. Any of this. I'll never be able to repay you." Finally, words spoken from truth, from her heart.

  "Don't be stupid. I love you, I'm just ready to get you out of here and away from him." Patrick cast a wary glance toward the window. It rattled under the force of the wind, demanding entrance. Athen was always demanding. "That is him, isn't it?"

  "Yes." She would soon be free of him. They all would.

  Athen was out of control, driven to some dark place by her siren's Song. The goddesses’s gift gone mad, tainted by a black heart.

  "He can't hurt you anymore. I'll take care of you. Both of you."

  Brave words spoken out of ignorance, but she relished them nonetheless. If Patrick was ignorant it was because she needed him to be. He never would have agreed to what she'd set in motion. None of them would. So she'd kept silent. Hoarding to herself this renewed sense of power. Athen had stole that from her. Her power. Her choice, wanting to make it his own. But in the end she made a choice. A choice that gave her back what he'd stolen. Power to set the course of her life, that of their daughter. Patrick's daughter now. One look into her daughter's face and a need had welled up inside her so strong it threatened to burst out of her. How could she love someone so fiercely with one look? One touch? With one smell of skin?

  "I'll sit with her, Patrick, if you want to go take a shower," Lara said as she came into the room.

  "Yeah, I could use one." Patrick leaned over, placing a kiss to Caris’ head. Rena hoped her smile conveyed the gratitude he inspired.

  "He's crazy about you." Lara took the place Patrick had vacated on the edge of the bed. "Both of you."

  Rena's smile wobbled before she returned her attention to the baby she held in her arms. One look and Lara would know of her deception, of her plan to calm the storm raging outside. Her plan to save her daughter. She had to tell her. She owed Lara that and so much more for taking her in, giving her a place to call home.

  "I did something, Lara." Rena hugged her baby tight. Lara would understand. She had sons of her own. She would understand.

  "What did you do?" Lara's eyes narrowed, the smooth skin on her forehead pleating under the mass of dark hair.

  "What I had to." The words broke through Rena's cracked lips, and to her own ears they sounded desperate. "I won't risk her, Lara." Her voice was like crushed shells, a gritty scratch in her throat.

  "But I thought…" Lara's words died in the wake of comprehension. Pale green eyes shimmered in the candlelight. The flames flickered as if somehow the wind found them. "She's Athen's."

  "No." No, no, no. Never his. "She's mine. This is my choice. The goddess has given me her blessing."

  "Whatever you've done, undo it," Lara demanded. The muscles in her young body bunched in defense, as if she could stop what was about to happen. As if anyone could. The exchange was made. Rena already felt it deep in the recesses of her bones, the very center of her being. It was a sacrifice she'd make a thousand times over if it would keep her baby safe. Keep all of them safe.

  "Don't you hear him? He won't stop, Lara. You know he won't. Not before he destroys everything." Rena dared another look at her friend, setting her jaw in determination. "He'll destroy her. Wouldn't you do the same to protect Jamie and Noah?"

  Her friend stared down at her as if she were a stranger. As though she hadn't just encouraged her, held her hand while she brought her baby into the world. As though she hadn't ridden the bed of the soiled sheets and helped Rena clean her own body.

  "This isn't your sacrifice to make," Lara pleaded.

  Who else could make it? It was up to Rena to put Athen out of his misery. To put her out of hers. As much as she would like to lay all the blame at Athen's feet, she couldn't. Not if she were honest.

  "I won't let you do this."

  "He'll take care of her." Rena knew Patrick loved Caris already. It had been love at first sight. For all of them. Rena never would have believed she could love a regular human boy. She would die loving a human boy. She would also die loving a different boy. A man. A man she hoped found peace without her.

  The candle by the bed flickered, sputte
red nearly out, then flamed again. Candles scattered around her room joined in the dance, casting shadows on the walls.

  Magic stirred on the air, seeking what was promised. Rena's ears popped as the wind shifted. Without looking, she knew the priestess stood in the doorway.

  "We must be quick." The priestess’s voice held an ageless command.

  "Rena, no." Lara's hand gripped her arm. "You can't do this. I won't let you. I know Athen hurt you, but this isn't the answer, Rena. This is madness."

  "It's done," Rena said, feeling the finality of it in her soul. Oddly, she wasn't afraid. Not anymore.

  "Then undo it." Lara's eyes misted. Her lip trembled then set in an anguished line. "Does Patrick know you're using him like this?"

  Rena understood the contempt in her friend’s tone. Her daughter's life would be built on a lie. A lie Lara now shared.

  "No. Patrick can't know. He won't understand. Promise me you will never tell him. He'll be good for her, you know that."

  "How can you do this? How is he better than her own mother? He's twenty years old. He can't take care of a baby by himself."

  "He can. He's a good person." And I am not. Rena thought. But this will make it right. This will make me good.

  "Rena, it's time."

  Rena's arms tightened around her daughter at the priestess’s words. She cradled her closer, listened for the tiny beat of her heart, the light rhythm like the flutter of wings against her breast. Rena held her for one last cherished second. "Goodbye, Caris. My love."

  Then Rena's heart was lifted right out of her arms.

  "Forgive me, Lara." Rena willed her own eyes dry. "You'll see, I'm right. You'll see." Her sacrifice was just. She wouldn't cry over something so good.

  Good. What she and Athen created was good.

  Rena watched her daughter's fuzzy platinum head as Lara carried her toward the priestess’s outstretched arms. Lara paused and looked back at her, offering her one last chance to change her mind. They both knew it was too late.

  "It's all right," Rena whispered.

  "I won't forgive you for making this choice."

  “Yes, you will."

  Caris squirmed, raising a tiny fist, mewling a protest.

  Rena's eyes closed, unable to watch them take her baby away. Her head fell heavy to the side, her strength slowly fading. When Rena opened her eyes again she found Lara's son, Noah, standing in the doorway, his green child's eyes watching her, condemning her.

  "I had to," she said, trying and failing to lift her arm. So fast. It was happening so fast. Noah stood in the doorway as if he were afraid. As if he felt the magic pulsating through the room, taking from her what she freely offered.

  "Tell her I love her. Take care of her for me. You'll do that won't you, Noah?" Nonsense. Rena was talking nonsense to a two-year-old who couldn't possibly understand, would never even remember her or her baby.

  Noah's image swam in and out of focus. Her daughter's Song sang to her from some faraway place. She closed her eyes to the lyrical sound and listened until she couldn't hear her anymore.

  One

  I used to dream of swimming. Now I dreamt of storms.

  Loud, raucous storms that woke me from a deep sleep. Sometimes they raged only in my head and dissipated the minute I opened my eyes. Other times they continued to howl outside my house. Wind and thunder rattling the windows. Rain pelting the glass.

  The only difference tonight was that I couldn’t wake up. This dream stole me to the Deep, the only place I could escape. Liquid dark enveloped me. A dark so complete it threatened to crush me. I could still hear it though, the shaking of thunder. The water pulsed with it. Pulsed under my skin, through my veins. I tried again to force myself to wake, but it was as if something held me down and covered my eyes. My throat strained around a cry for help, but even my voice seemed out of my control.

  As if this dream weren’t bad enough, sharks circled. Three of them. I sensed their hunger. I urged my dream self to flee, but she hesitated, caught in their tight orbit. One darted close on a gurgle of water. A second one came with teeth, a lightning-fast strike, biting into flesh. Blood spiraled into the current. The scent of it burst around me like incense.

  What was a nightmare without blood?

  I tried to swim away but the Deep held me down, a sinking pressure on my chest. The sharks continued to swarm. Another nibbled on my thigh, just enough to tear the flesh, as though they couldn’t decide if they liked the taste of me. I jerked in response to the searing heat.

  What was a nightmare without pain?

  Something knocked into me from behind. Not a shark. Human. Noah. He always appeared in my dreams. He was always the best part. I turned, my arms already reaching for him, but my dream betrayed me. It wasn’t Noah’s green eyes that slammed into mine but Sol’s dark ones. Alarmed and furious. He held a knife in one hand and the other clamped around my arm. It hurt where he gripped. I fought against him, willing him away. How dare he take Noah’s place in my dream? His eyes were penetrating, one and the same with the lifeless eyes of the sharks. I waited for him to turn into a shark. Wasn’t that the way of dreams? Instead, he gripped my arm tighter and took off like a shot, dragging me behind him, nothing in front of us but the dark expanse of absolute nothingness.

  Our burst towards freedom was ripped away when Sol jerked backward. His vice-like grip eased into a desperate grasping, then gave way completely. Dizzily I spun around. Wide, gaping jaws closed over Sol’s leg, a steel trap sealing shut. Teeth sank into flesh. More blood mushroomed in the water. It clogged my pores, and for the first time since the day I’d learned to breathe water, I felt like I was suffocating. I could breathe water but I couldn’t breathe blood. Sol bellowed his outrage. It echoed through the Deep and skated under my skin. I watched in horrid fascination as he grappled with the shark. He punched with one hand, a hard jab into the side of the shark’s head. His knife sliced, the deadly blade finding its home over and over until the shark let go and started its slow sink to the bottom. Dead.

  But there were more. They came and Sol fought them off with the same concentrated finesse, so quick, so strong, the water so clouded with blood that I was blind. I was going to die here in my own dream. Then suddenly dream Sol emerged from the bloody cloud, grabbed my hand, and shot upwards. I wrestled against his hold. No, I couldn’t go to the surface. He was there. He was calling me.

  Air hit my face. The sky was chaos. My father lived in it, breathed in it. I saw his eyes in every flash of lightning. Heard his voice in every boom of thunder. He wouldn’t stop. He wouldn’t quit calling my name.

  I covered my ears and screamed.

  * * *

  “Caris! Wake up!”

  Sol was still here. How was he still here? I wanted to wake up. I’d been trying. My body wouldn’t respond. My dream was like a stone on my chest, weighing me down. Lightning crackled in my head, over my skin. It sizzled off my fingertips even as the roll of thunder picked me up and threatened to throw me back down to earth. I tasted salt. Was I crying?

  “Caris, would you wake up?”

  I bolted up from my bed and smacked my head on something hard. Someone cursed. Sol? He was here? I opened my eyes, the terror on his face mirroring the terror of my dream. His mouth moved. What was he saying? I couldn’t hear him over the wind, the pounding of the rain. Lightning strobed, electrifying the boat underneath us.

  Boat? Where was I?

  “Caris. Look at me.” The command in Sol’s voice penetrated through the chaos. My eyes gravitated to his. I’d always thought them lifeless, void of emotion, but they spun with so many different emotions now that it was hard to catch on a single one. My eyes focused on the pearl he wore around his neck, shiny with moisture, reflecting all those emotions in the myriad of color. In them, I found my center and let it ground me, bringing me back from my nightmare.

  My heart rate slowed. The pulse pounding in my head eased, and with it the air calmed. A slow-spiraling descent. A feather dropped from the s
ky. I was a feather, my body limp and weightless. Clouds dissipated and with them, the rain.

  “That’s it,” he said with more gentleness than I would have thought him capable. It brought tears to my eyes. At least I thought they were tears. It might have just been the rain.

  All that was left was an eerie quiet. My arm throbbed. My thigh throbbed. My eyes skated between the two sharks teeth on either side of his pearl. I looked down at my arm. The wound was still there although faint, the small punctures in the pattern of teeth. My fists clenched.

  “That wasn’t a dream?”

  “No. It was a fucking nightmare. Are you okay?” His words bit into my conscience.

  I tried to sit up all the way but the effort was too much. “Where are we?”

  “The Muerte Blanca,” he said, his voice steely calm.

  I stared at him blankly, feeling slow and stupid.

  “My boat.”

  I collapsed fully against the seat behind me. My eyes fell closed, the lids too heavy. What I saw behind them had my blood running cold again. “Those sharks were real?”

  “Yeah, Caris, they were real. And they were hungry. Do you realize what almost happened?” His voice held such a hard edge it was a weapon capable of cutting flesh, making it bleed. I’d already bled. So had he. Death had been a real possibility. The sharks were dead. No wonder he was angry. I knew he had an affinity for them.

  “I’m sorry,” I said, fighting the tears that wanted to form behind my closed lids. “Don’t be angry.” I finally coaxed my eyes back open and stared at him.

  “Angry? I’m not angry. You scared the shit out of me. Another few minutes and I would have had to slice open the underbelly of one of those fuckers and you know what I would have found?” His voice echoed over the water. “Body parts. Your body parts.”

  He kicked the seat hard enough to rock the entire boat. He clutched his head in both hands and fell back beside me, his shoulder against mine oddly comforting. He’d just saved my life, of that I was certain. We sat in our collapsed states, our labored breathing the only sounds in the predawn. In and out. In and out. Life and death. A precarious line.