“Ah.” Qeturah put her hand to her head, thinking. “Then I suppose you’ll have to keep sending him messages. Ones that I’ve dictated.”
Leah didn’t care if Qeturah lied to the duke. “Of course.” Silently she added, As long as it doesn’t endanger my mother.
“And now, my son, you’d best return to bed.”
Leah glanced out the window; the sun was getting quite low. “Yes, you should hurry.”
When she turned back, Qeturah was studying her with narrowed eyes.
Gideon lingered a moment longer. “I will see Leah tomorrow.” He directed a challenging look at his mother.
Leah held her breath. Qeturah must have greater plans for the marriage of her son than Duke Ruben’s illegitimate daughter.
Qeturah rolled her eyes. “Yes, yes. Heaven knows Cook complains about the ladder.”
“Good.” Gideon pressed a swift kiss to Leah’s forehead, bowed to his mother, and left.
Leah started to back away, but Qeturah stopped her. “Just a moment, my dear.” She moved to the top of the stairs and peered down, then returned looking satisfied. “Sabra has a bad habit of eavesdropping,” she explained.
Unsurprised, Leah nodded.
Qeturah considered Leah for a long moment.
Wariness prickled her nape. Now that Gideon had left, would Qeturah forbid Leah to see him?
But Qeturah had something different on her mind. “You are aware of Gideon’s affliction?”
“Yes. He explained about the curse.” Leah shuddered. “Is there no way to keep the dragon from flying away with him? It hurts him so.”
Qeturah was silent a moment. “As a matter of fact, there may be a way to…alleviate the curse. Someone on Water placed it on him. Someone I can’t reach, but that you, perhaps, can. If you’re willing to help?”
She needed to ask? “Anything,” Leah swore fervently. Anything to save Gideon.
Qeturah smiled.
Chapter Ten
Hidden Pearl
Holly skulked behind the wheel of her car and scanned the hordes of after-school students for Ryan. She felt like a stalker, even though she only intended to offer him an air-conditioned ride. The morning’s fog had burned off, but the air dripped humidity.
Ryan had been really, really nice to her this week, and she wanted to repay the favor.
Okay, so maybe her motives weren’t all that pure, but she could still save him a walk in the sweltering heat. And maybe they could talk a bit.
Despite spending three noon hours rehearsing together, the closest thing they’d had to an actual conversation was when Ryan had asked her what she feared the most about performing. “Being onstage? Forgetting your lines? People staring because you have a stupid scarf tied around your neck? Oh, wait, that’s me.”
Holly had shuddered at the idea of all those eyes. “Everything.”
He’d looked taken aback but had rallied. “We’ll start with memorizing your lines. By the time we’re done, you’ll know the whole play backward and forward.”
He’d kept his promise—she already had Gwendolen’s first scene down pat—but in all that time, he hadn’t said a single word about her rescue or being a siren.
It was driving her crazy.
Her goal for this afternoon was to chip away at his distrust. When she finally spotted him walking along the street, she ignored the butterflies swooping in her stomach and powered down her window. “Hey, Ryan, want a ride?”
“Thanks.” He climbed in the passenger side of her little blue car. Instead of a backpack, he carried large freezer bags with his schoolbooks sealed inside. More economies?
Holly carefully adjusted her rearview mirror so that she wouldn’t accidentally meet her reflection’s eyes and started to pull out—only to almost get clipped by Kyle Melnichuk’s rusty pickup. Shaken, she glanced at Ryan. “Is he holding a grudge against you for something?”
“Don’t worry. Kyle can’t hurt me.”
Ryan sounded so certain, Holly blinked. Literally couldn’t hurt him? She muzzled her curiosity. “Where to?”
“The marina,” he said after a pause. “There’s a ferry to Salmon Island.”
Holly pulled out and turned toward the docks. “So, you live on an island. Is it full of vacation homes for the rich?” She raised an eyebrow, sharing the joke.
He snorted. “Somehow we’ve escaped being discovered by developers yet. The island’s only a couple of square miles and has very little beach.” He leaned forward. “Turn left here.”
Holly obeyed, and a maze of boats and piers came into view. Every kind of boat, from houseboats to sailboats to fifty-foot yachts, bobbed on the blue water.
Her spirits fell. They’d hardly gotten to talk at all. “What time does the ferry dock?”
“Five o’clock.”
Holly blinked. “That’s over an hour from now. Do you want to hang out at the mall?”
“Nah, I’ll be fine. I’m used to the wait.”
Holly nosed into a parking slot. The ferry was a small one that seemed to service several islands; she didn’t see a depot or even a shady spot to stand. “Are you sure? It’s so muggy. We could get ice cream. Are you a chocolate or a vanilla guy?”
“Chocolate, but—”
“Please? My treat,” she added quickly.
His face closed up. “I don’t need your charity.” He got out of the car.
Holly hurried after him, her footsteps echoing on the wooden wharf. “It’s not charity! It’s—” She broke off, frustrated. “If it bugs you, why don’t you look at it as a reward for saving my life? I think I’m worth at least an ice cream cone. Maybe even a banana split.”
He didn’t smile.
“For that matter, any time you want a real reward, just say the word. I’m sure my dad would—”
He about-faced, his dark blue eyes fierce. “You told your dad?”
“No! No, of course not, I promised,” Holly said.
He relaxed a little.
“I just meant if you wanted, I could tell him.” Tears sprang into her eyes.
Ryan swore softly. “I’m sorry, Holly. I overreacted. I’d just really like it if no one knew but the two of us. Okay?” He tipped up her chin.
“Okay,” Holly said breathlessly.
Instead of kissing her, he jammed his hands in his pockets. “You would’ve made it to shore on your own. I just gave you a hand, that’s all.”
Holly caught her breath. He was finally admitting that he’d saved her! Progress!
“Anyone would have done the same,” he added.
Holly raised a skeptical eyebrow. “I was a goner, and anyone wouldn’t’ve been strong enough to tow me through the surf.”
Ryan shrugged. “My point is, you don’t need to pay me back. I was happy to help. The end.”
Holly blinked. “You save my life and I’m just supposed to forget it?”
He looked relieved. “Yeah, exactly.”
Never in a million years. “If I swear not to mention it again, can we go for ice cream?” She was sweating already.
“I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
“Why?” A gull squawked overhead as if mocking her.
He sighed. “Because it wouldn’t work. I’m poor and you’re rich.”
“I am not rich!” Holly protested.
“Oh?” Ryan raised an eyebrow. “Your dad isn’t Joseph Beecher, famous Hollywood director, then?”
She tried again. “My dad’s rich. I’m not. Okay, I have a college fund, but—”
“You have your own car,” he accused.
“So does half the class! And it’s a six-year-old Honda, not a Porsche.” Not like Shannon’s new boyfriend, Jason, drove.
Ryan shot her a pitying look. “You don’t get it. You’re all rich. My mom and I don’t own a vehicle.”
No car at all? That was…not important. “I don’t care,” she said baldly.
“Maybe I do.” He walked toward the end of the pier.
Boys and the
ir stupid pride. Holly slammed back inside her cheap little car and squealed out of the parking lot, putting four seagulls to flight.
She was so mad, it took her six blocks to realize Kyle’s pickup was following her. Her heart jumped into her throat. What should she do? Drive to the police station? She didn’t want him following her home.
A thought wormed its way into her head: Kyle had been Ryan’s friend for years. He might know the answers to some of her questions.
She parked beside a busy convenience store and waited. Kyle’s blue pickup shuddered to a stop beside her. He leered out the window. “Hey, Hollywood, I saw your picture in the paper. Were you naked under that blanket?”
Holly lifted her chin. “Get to the point. I know you were following me.”
He feigned injured innocence. “I just came to warn you—”
Ha! As if Kyle Melnichuk was concerned over anyone’s welfare.
“—about—” The next word seemed to stick in his throat. He tried again. “You should be careful who you hang out with. That—” More choking noises.
Holly’s eyes widened. “You can’t say Ryan’s name, can you?” She was torn between fascination and horror.
Kyle shook his head, a fierce movement.
“He told you not to talk about him,” she guessed.
“Yes.” His green eyes blazed. “You know about—” He gagged, as if trying to swallow his tongue.
“I know about Ryan, yes.”
Kyle loosed a string of foul curses, mixed with threats.
He was vile, but she could almost pity him. She was probably the only person who understood what it felt like to be a victim of Ryan’s siren voice. “How long ago did he do this to you?” His command to forget him had worn off after about two weeks.
Kyle held up four fingers.
“Four weeks?” He must renew the command every month.
But Kyle shook his head. “Four years.”
…
“Mom, are we rich?” Holly asked that evening. She’d been thinking about what her life would be like without a vehicle. She’d miss her little Honda, but she could ride the bus to school or bike in nice weather. Not having a family car was harder to imagine.
No ballet lessons when she was young. No running out for ice cream. Grocery shopping would be a huge pain. Her mom’s daily commute into Nanaimo would be impossible. She’d have to work a different, lower-paying job in town. But that was a circle, because her mom’s job meant they could afford a car and everything that went with it.
Like a spacious split-level house. Holly suddenly saw luxuries everywhere. A brand-new laptop and printer sat on her desk upstairs. She had a nice wardrobe—no secondhand clothes for her. Then there was the digital camera she’d received for her birthday…her iPod…her Blackberry…DVDs of her favorite TV shows and movies… They all seemed to scream money.
Her mom kept tapping away at her laptop on the couch. “Rich in comparison to who? Most of the world’s population would think so.”
“In comparison to other families in town,” Holly said.
Her mom’s eyebrows pinched together. “I would describe us as well-to-do. I have a good job, but we’re not in your father’s class.” Her mom closed the laptop. “What’s this about? Did someone at school call you names?”
“No. There’s this boy…I offered to treat him to ice cream, and he acted like it was this big deal.”
Her mom smiled. “Am I allowed to inquire the name of this boy?”
Holly sighed. “It’s Ryan, Ryan Sullivan. We’re in Drama together. He’s playing Jack.”
“And you like him?”
“Mooooom!”
“I’ll take that as a yes,” her mom said drily. “Let’s start with the obvious. I don’t care how much money your date has. I care if he’s a nice boy who’ll treat you well.”
Holly rolled her eyes.
“If this boy’s pride is getting in the way, I do have a suggestion.” Her mom waited.
“I’m listening,” Holly said grudgingly.
“Try to think of things that you can do together that don’t require money. Watch DVDs instead of going to the theater. Go for a picnic on the beach.”
The kitchen phone rang. Her mother went to answer it, still talking. “As for food, I have yet to meet the teenage boy who would turn down homemade cookies—homemade by you, that is.”
Holly stuck out her tongue.
The phone call proved to be Holly’s dad. She sat at the kitchen counter and angled the toaster so she wouldn’t catch sight of her reflection.
Her mind wandered while he complained about his difficulty casting the male lead in his upcoming movie. Maybe she should organize a cast beach party this week. If they made it a potluck, she could ask Ryan to bring buns; he could probably get free day-olds from his job…
“Your mom says you’re taking Drama this year,” her dad said.
“Yes. We’re putting on The Importance of Being Earnest.” She cleared his throat. “I’m playing Gwendolen, Jack’s love interest.”
“Good for you!”
“We’re performing next month.” Holly took a deep breath. “Actually, I was hoping you might fly up and watch me.”
Silence.
Holly cringed. “I know it’s just a high school production, but—”
“Of course, I’ll come,” her dad said heartily. “My favorite actress is in it, right? I was just going over my schedule in my head. What’s the date?”
Relieved, Holly told him. They said good night, and she collapsed forward on the counter. Ms. Prempeh would have her wish: a Hollywood celebrity in the audience.
Now all Holly had to do was not suck.
…
Holly shivered and watched the others splash in the surf. What had she been thinking when she decided to have the cast party on the beach?
Everything had gone well up until this point. The rehearsal had turned into a contest to see who knew their lines best (Eleanor won). There’d been a ton of food, and Ryan had scarfed down three of her cookies. But after supper, half the cast had left, and the four people remaining had moved off the beach and into the ocean.
Holly should’ve realized that would happen.
“Aren’t you coming in?” Eleanor called. She wore walking shorts and a windbreaker but had removed her sandals to wade.
Deeper in the surf, Dana shrieked as Daniel dunked her. “You got my hair wet, you moron!” She chased after him, intent on revenge.
Holly shuddered. If Daniel pulled that trick on her, she would freak out. No, thanks. “Maybe later,” she called to Eleanor. “I have to pack up the food.”
“No way. You organized everything. I’ll clean up.”
“No, really, it’s fine,” Holly said.
Eleanor didn’t listen. “Hey, Ryan,” she called, making him look up from examining a piece of driftwood. “Drag Holly away, will you? She deserves a break.”
Holly glared at Eleanor, but the other girl just winked at her. “Go.”
Great. Did everyone know she had a crush on Ryan?
Ryan stopped on the edge of the wet sand, his expression somber. He held out his hand.
As if in a dream, Holly found herself taking it. His warm fingers enfolded hers, and he pulled her forward.
A wavelet washed over Holly’s toe, and she jumped. She looked up, chagrined, but saw no judgment on Ryan’s face. He knew she was afraid. “You’ll be safe with me,” he promised in a voice like melted chocolate.
She didn’t trust the ocean—but Ryan had saved her. She took three steps. The cool water curled around her ankles, tickling.
“Just a little farther,” he coaxed.
Holly waded farther in. She’d played at the beach her whole life; this shouldn’t be so hard. But even with the water only knee-deep, she was aware of the subtle push and pull of the waves and the immense power of the ocean beyond. Her breathing hitched as she remembered being at the mercy of larger waves.
“You’re doing fine.” Ryan’
s thumb brushed her knuckles. “Concentrate on the silkiness of the water. Doesn’t it feel nice?”
His voice soothed her. By degrees, Holly relaxed. As he continued to talk about the ocean, she sensed his love for it.
“The ocean’s feeling playful, can you tell?”
Holly nodded. The waves frothed in and out, postcard pretty as the sun sank toward the horizon. But the day she’d fallen overboard had been beautiful, too.
Ryan kept holding her hand. “See that big rock there? Let’s go sit on it.”
“I’m wearing shorts, not a swimsuit,” Holly stalled.
He just waited. The breeze feathered his dark hair.
“Okay, but if it gets too deep you have to carry me.”
He rewarded her with a smile. Holly would have done a lot for that smile. They’d almost reached the rock when a shout caught her attention. Turning, she saw three teenage boys stumbling along the beach, holding beer bottles. The red-haired one was Kyle.
He spotted them and swerved into the surf.
Ryan tensed, and Holly cringed. Crap. This could get ugly. Holly had ended her last conversation with Kyle by thanking him for his warning. It had seemed like the easiest way to get away from him, but Kyle was staring at her and Ryan’s joined hands, flushed with betrayal.
Kyle stopped five meters away and addressed Holly in a slurred voice. “How come you’re still with—” He choked on Ryan’s name.
“Go away,” Ryan said fiercely.
Kyle backed up two steps, but Holly’s relief flashed to fear when he bared his teeth and whizzed his beer bottle at her.
Lightning quick, Ryan shielded her with his body.
The bottle shattered against the large rock next to them. Ryan hissed in pain.
Alarmed, Holly watched a bright red line of blood appear on his hand where a flying shard of glass had sliced him. Panic made his cheekbones stand out as webs grew between his fingers and an iridescent sheen rolled across his eyes. “Don’t look,” he commanded.
Holly scanned their surroundings. Kyle and his friends had slunk off, but Eleanor was splashing toward them. “Are you guys okay?” In another second, she would see Ryan’s partial merman form.
Holly blocked her view. “We’re fine. Fortunately, Kyle’s aim is just as bad as his personality.”
Through Fire & Sea Page 12
