Scattered

by Shannon Mayer

  I hated to admit it, but I took comfort in the knife and did indeed take it with me diving. It had saved me once already. I grit my teeth as memories rushed through my mind and threatened to suck me into a panic attack. Using slow even breaths I managed to get my heart rate to a normal level. Okay, almost normal. Those memories needed to stay in the past, where they belonged. If only it was that easy.

  Though this was what Ashling wanted, it was not my idea of a good time. Surfing on the west coast of Vancouver Island was even less of a good idea, at least to me. The water was cold, even through the heat of the summer, and it was known for its riptides and jagged rocks as much as its surfing. And yet, here we were. I shook my head, curls catching in the wind, and tangling into knots I knew would be a pain to get out later.

  “Come on, Quinn, that water is great and the waves are bitch’n!” Ashling yelled. I stared at her out in the water, sitting on her surf board, unruly strawberry blond curls escaping her ponytail and dancing in the wind. She hadn’t even put on the surfboard leash, cocky little thing that she was.

  I waved at her and forced a smile to my lips. I wouldn’t ruin this day for her; this was her moment, her celebration.

  “I hate this,” I muttered under my breath.

  “Then why are you here?” A strong male voice asked me. It was our instructor, Luke. Damn, the voice I’d heard on the phone more than matched the guy it was attached to. Rich and sensual.

  I had a hard time looking at him. Drop dead gorgeous wouldn’t even begin to describe the man in front of me. Not too tall, maybe 5’10, with blond hair that seemed to shimmer in the sunlight and blue eyes that I couldn’t look away from. I swallowed hard and stared at the sand at my feet. He was far too pretty, far too dangerous, with his silky voice that made me forget my own name. Ashling had been—to say the least—delighted when she saw him and realized he was our surfing instructor. Flirting and prancing in her little red bikini, she’d been determined to get his attention. But while he was kind to her, he didn’t fall into her arms as she’d been obviously hoping. Secretly, I was laughing. She was so pretty, petite and feminine, she wasn’t used to men turning her down.

  I fingered the cuffs on my wetsuit, anxiety starting to build. “I promised her we could do anything she wanted for her graduation gift.”

  We were the only ones here on this part of the beach, the early morning enough to scare many of the tourists away as well as the die-hard locals, by the looks of it. From what the brochure had said, usually the beach was flooded, despite the cooler water and the mist that wouldn’t burn off till afternoon. In the distance I could see a few surfers riding the waves, black specks on the water.

  “You must care for her a great deal,” Luke said. He sounded surprised.

  I frowned at him. “She’s my baby sister; of course I care about her.”

  “I’d hoped that wasn’t the case,” he said, his voice soft. My frown deepened and a thrill of alarm started at the base of my spine.

  “What the hell is that supposed to mean?” I asked, frowning at him. He didn’t have a chance to answer me.

  “Quinn!” Ashling’s call was sharp and far too high pitched. Not her usual light, airy tones. I spun to see her in the water with only her head above the waves as she gripped the surf board. Even from this distance, her pale green eyes were wide and full of fear. I didn’t hesitate—though my body quailed with remembered fear and pain, I didn’t think about anything except getting her out of the water.

  I took one step and arms encircled me, holding me tight and stopping me from diving into the surf. “She’ll be fine. Let her be.”

  “Let me go!” I yelled, jerking my body left and right, trying to free myself. Luke’s grip only tightened; his arms were like vices around my middle. Damn he was strong.

  “Quinn!” Ashling’s voice went up another octave and I stared in horror as her head bobbed down on the last bit of my name, her voice turning into a gurgle. Something large and black, skin shiny with slime, breached in the water next to her then slid back under the waves. My heart constricted with fear, my body thundered with adrenaline. It had to be a killer whale, even though I didn’t see a fin. That was the only thing out here that could be attacking her. We didn’t have sharks on the west coast. At least, not that I knew of. God, I hoped not. I couldn’t face that again.

  Luke held me tight. “Quinn, please believe me, you can’t go in the water.” His voice caressed my skin, his words reverberating inside my skull until I believed them. I relaxed into his arms, my head leaning back into his chest as a wave of fatigue swept over me. I slumped as my blood slowed and the fear left me. Luke was right, I couldn’t go in the water. Ashling would be okay. She was a strong swimmer and this, his arms around me, felt so nice. Maybe she was just playing with me again. Like humming the theme to Jaws. He turned me to face him, putting my back to the ocean and the distant cries of the gulls. His hand came up and stroked my face; he brushed an errant curl back, and tucked it behind my ear.

  “Ah, Quinn, you’ve got to let her go. It will be easier this way, to say goodbye now, rather than later. I know that’s hard to hear, but you must trust me that I know what’s best for you.” He leaned down, holding my face in his hands as his thumbs rubbed intricate designs on my cheeks; his lips pressed into mine.

  It was as if I was kissing sunlight, golden warmth rushed through my veins, waking parts of me I had no idea were even there. The heat stirred some long dormant piece of me, something that I suddenly knew Grandpa had awakened in me. The empty pieces that had left me hollow my whole life filled my body, sealing the broken bits together.

  Quickened.

  Pushing up against Luke’s energy, my own power rippled through me—answering his kiss—my nerve endings flashing and clearing my mind. Tingling from head to toe, I pulled away and tried to untangle my limbs from his. Though I didn’t understand it, I felt the power and knew it for what it was.

  Magic.

  Magic that gave me the strength to fight what Luke was trying to do to me. It burned through me, a cleansing fire that undid the power that he wrapped around me.

  “Ashling,” I gasped out. Luke pulled back, a frown slipping over his beautiful face, marring it, taking the glamour away.

  I slid my hand down my thigh to the knife sheath. “Let me go!” I said, again trying to pull myself out of his arms to no avail.

  “Trust me Quinn; I’m saving your life right now. If you go into that water, you’ll not come back out. You have to trust me,” he said, the power in his voice sweeping over me again. I bit down on the inside of my cheek, the pain keeping my mind from dissolving under his words. My own power seemed to buck under his attempts to sway me. I clung to it for all I was worth.

  “I don’t have to do anything!” I yelled.

  I flicked the neoprene knife sheath open and grasped the smooth bone handle. Jerking it out, I plunged it into Luke’s thigh. He let out a howl and stumbled backwards as I turned and sprinted into the surf, slipping my knife back in its sheath as I ran.

  “Ashling!” I shouted, fear for my baby sister rolling over me—stronger than the fear I had of the water and what lay beneath it, though just barely. The ocean was not warm, and it stole the heat the kiss had infused me with. I dove in, slicing underneath the surf as a wave rolled over me.

  Memories of the last time I’d swum, over three years ago, nipped at my heels. I did my very best to ignore them, but they caught me between diving under the waves and surfacing. The bite of a shark on my leg; the fear as my respirator slipped off at forty feet below the surface; the panic at not being able to breathe.

  Breaking the surface, I gasped for air and nearly turned back as I imagined all the things that swam below me. Paralyzed by my past, I couldn’t move forward; I couldn’t go back. Treading water, I trembled, my breath coming in short, sharp gasps. Heart hammering, my vision blurred as I struggled to get enough air, my body shutting down as the panic set in full force.

  A wave rolled and in the va
lley of it was a flash of white; in my mind all I could see was the white belly of the shark as it rolled with me in its mouth.

  Nothing but fear filled me. I couldn’t think, couldn’t hardly breathe, as I turned and swam back to shore. I was waist deep, scrambling for dry land, Luke reaching out for me, when something grabbed me around my left ankle.

  I let out a cry as I was dragged down; Luke stopped at the edge of the water, his hands in his hair and a look of pure agony on his face.

  Eyes closed tight, I fought like a wild thing, thrashing and punching at whatever it was that had me in its grip. And then, for no reason I could see, it let go; I swam for the surface. Gasping for air I looked around. I’d been pulled out to sea. Way out.

  I spun and something bumped me in the back. A shark; it was testing me out for a meal. My heart about to burst, I spun to face Ashling’s surfboard. One of her hands gripped the edge of it, white knuckles bobbing in and out of the water, the surfboard actually getting pulled under with her; the sight broke my paralysis. Her head was submerged except for the ends of her hair, which floated on the surface. Something cold and slimy brushed against my legs and I bit down on a scream that made it all the way to my lips before I caught it. Salt water slipped inside my mouth; I spit it out and slid around the side of the board, but not before she lost her grip and disappeared under the water.

  “Ashling!” I screamed. My voice echoed out over the water, but the only answer I got was the gulls crying over head.

  Looking down, I couldn’t see anything below me; I could barely see my feet. Breathing deep, I prepped myself to dive, but on the second gulp of air the choice was taken from me.

  Teeth latched onto my calf yanking me under the water, my hands slipping from the surfboard. The bite was all too familiar. Apparently I’d been wrong; there were sharks in these waters. Serrated teeth sliced through my flesh, biting all the way through the muscle, my foot clamped inside a powerful set of jaws.

  My first thought was that Mom couldn’t be upset with me now for losing Ashling, not if we were both gone, that was, if she didn’t celebrate her liberation from her children. My second thought as I rolled in the water—the pain drawing my eyes to its source—was that I’d lost my mind.

  It was no shark on my leg. It was a monster, human in appearance with a single eye set high in the middle of its forehead, and a massive mouth filled with sharp, shark-like teeth. The thing smiled as its hands, hooked like claws, rose up to dig into the waist of my neoprene wetsuit. The jagged tips brushed against my bare skin inside the suit, and I trembled with fear, a new fear. What the hell was it?

  “Can you hear me little Tuatha? I wonder if you know me deep in your soul? We are coming for you. All of you.”

  I blinked and stared into the huge, soulless eye; felt the keen edge of years behind it, and, as much as I wanted to deny what I was hearing, acknowledged that the voice in my head wasn’t my own. It was the monster’s.

  What are you? I mouthed into the water, salty brine washing over my taste buds, morbid curiosity overcoming rational sense.

  “I am your enemy, the one that will strip your flesh from your bones and bathe in your blood.” The voice was masculine, deep and resonant within my head. I wanted to push it out of my mind.

  It—he—rumbled and rolled in the water, taking me with him, end over end until I no longer knew which way was up. Finally he stopped and began to pull me into the depths of the ocean, the water getting colder with each inch we moved deeper, away from the sun and air.

  Air. How could I still be under the water and not need to breathe? As soon as the thought came, it was gone; I didn’t have time to think about that, as strange as it seemed.

  Movement further below and to the right stole my attention away from my own situation. It was Ashling, fighting with a monster very much like the one on my own leg. They were tumbling in the water, her hair floating about like tentacles as she fought the thing off. How could she be in this deep, for this long? How could I? Again that once hollow piece of me responded. This was why we’d never fit in, these abilities, this magic, these monsters. Though my head said that none of this was real, my heart and soul spoke louder.

  This was real, this was happening, and if I was to save Ashling I had to move now. That thought broke through the last of my fear, its hold dissolving within the reality I had accepted.

  I grabbed my knife out of the sheath and slashed at the monster that held me in his mouth, slicing through the bulbous eye, white fluid pouring out of it. He jerked away from me, releasing my leg—a spray of blood clouding out around me—as he writhed in the water

  He screamed, wordlessly, the echo of his pain reverberating in my skull.

  Turning my back on him, I swam hard towards Ashling, holding the knife in my mouth. Twenty feet, fifteen, ten. I was nearly to her before she looked up.

  She saw me coming and kicked the monster that held her tight, sending it into a spin away from her. Ashling swam for me, her lips tight, eyes wide and dilated. Five feet. Three. I reached for her, my hand wrapping around her slender wrist. I didn’t pause, just turned and started to swim for the surface. Together we swam hard neither of us looking back.

  “She is ours, you will not have her!”

  We were yanked to a stop in mid-stroke, the surface only a few feet away, the sunlight streaming down through the waves with tantalizing nearness. I turned in the water and looked down. Ashling had a sea monster on each leg. Her pale green eyes were so wide they seemed to fill her face as the creatures jerked her from my hands and sped back into the depths faster than a rock sinking. Her hands reached for me, futilely.

  Before I could even consider diving down after her, hands grabbed me and pulled me upwards, away from Ashling, and out of the water.

  “No!” I screamed as I broke the surface, the last of my air erupting in denial. There were people all over the water; rescuers dove after Ashling. But I knew what they didn’t. They would never find her; somehow I knew that not only had my sister been stolen away, but my world had just shattered beyond repair.

  And it was all my fault.

  To learn more about Shannon Mayer and her other books, go to http://shannonmayer.blogspot.com or check out her author page at Amazon.com