Soon, Breckett was directing the boat along the coast toward the next trapping area.
“You seem distracted,” Vasil said.
Kronus didn’t have to look up from the water to know Vasil’s eyes were upon him. He clenched his jaw and fought the reflexive color change threatening to overcome his skin. “I am fine.”
Vasil was silent.
Growling, Kronus swung his gaze to the other kraken. Their eyes locked. Vasil maintained his silence, his muted coloration, and his scrutiny.
“It is none of your concern,” Kronus spat.
Breckett cleared his throat, but the two kraken did not break eye contact with one another.
“We work together and hunt together,” Vasil finally said. “Your ability to focus is my concern, because I am depending upon you for support, just as you depend upon me.”
“And when have I ever wavered in my duty?” Kronus demanded. “Everything I have done has been—” he snapped his mouth shut before he finished. His hearts pounded against his ribs, and his skin had taken on a reddish hue.
This wasn’t the time or place.
“For our people,” Vasil said softly.
“What?” Kronus grasped the boat railing to ease the trembling of his hand.
“You have done everything for the good of our people. You were wrong in much of what you said and did, but I believe you acted — at least most of the time — for the benefit of the kraken.” Vasil betrayed no outward sign of agitation or distress; Kronus found himself suddenly resentful of the other kraken’s calm.
“I did not request your thoughts on those matters.” Kronus’s claws sank into the wood and his tentacles writhed in agitation as he turned back toward the water.
“But you have it now, regardless.”
“This behavior is unlike you, Vasil,” Kronus warned. “Make your challenge if you intend violence, or else shut your mouth.”
Vasil’s heavy gaze lingered on Kronus, a weight that made his skin itch. But he would not scratch, would not shift in place, would not display any sign of discomfort or weakness. Part of Kronus longed for a challenge, for a battle like he’d not fought in two years, for the sting of an opponent’s strikes and the thrill of his own blows connecting with flesh.
More than that, he wanted to leave this boat and return to The Watch. Whether it was to retreat to the isolation of his den or visit Eva at the clinic he could not say.
“Have you kept up on the girl you rescued, Kronus?” Breckett asked. By his tone, he simply hoped to steer the conversation away from the sudden tension between the kraken, but the question struck Kronus like a slap across the face. It was too relevant to the thoughts that had been consuming him.
Kronus’s jaw muscles ticked. “Yes.”
“And…how’s she doing? I heard Doc had to take off her leg.”
“Poorly, and he did.” Kronus folded his arms across his chest.
“Ah.”
The rigging creaked and jingled, and the ocean sighed softly all around, lapping at the boat’s hull. The silence between the three males deepened, and as it did, the surrounding air seemed increasingly thick and charged with an unsettling energy. That energy built in Kronus’s chest, slowly winding around his hearts and lungs to make everything feel tight and constricted. He was no stranger to guilt and regret, but why should he experience those emotions now?
Realization came to him when he forced himself to look at Vasil again, who wore a deep frown as he stared at the sea. Though Vasil had been somewhat intrusive and assertive, he and Breckett had both been attempting the same thing — friendliness. For kraken, solitary beings by nature, such relationships were new. Only Jax and Arkon, who’d been considered oddities among their people, had been anything like friends before human influence changed the way many kraken viewed their own society.
Kronus had never experienced friendship himself; his instincts were torn even now between the kraken longing for solitude and the human desire for companionship.
“Her mate left her,” he said, clenching and relaxing his jaw, “and she is unwell because of it.”
“Her mate left her?” asked Vasil.
“That little piece of—” Breckett cut off his own words with a grunt. “I haven’t met the girl more than a few times in passing, but she always seemed pleasant. Her folks are from Emmiton, I think. She came here to be with Blake. He was a troublemaker when he was younger, but I thought he’d grown out of that. It’s harsh, but I always thought he was the sort who needed to have his ass kicked a few times to straighten him out.”
Kronus glanced at Breckett. The human’s thick brows were low over troubled eyes, and his mouth was lost amidst his bushy beard, which was usually a strong indication of his displeasure.
“I was told not to harm Blake,” Kronus said.
Breckett laughed, but the sound lacked humor. “Doubt Kent would be able to put him back together again after you were done. We’ve got plenty of men in town would be happy to teach Blake a lesson after doing something like that, though.”
The idea of Blake suffering was satisfying to Kronus, even if he couldn’t inflict that pain himself. But what mattered more — causing pain to Blake or diminishing Eva’s?
Kronus dipped his head as thoughts swirled through his mind. There were connections to be made, there was a solution here, he just needed to puzzle it out. He’d leapt to violence many times, had issued many challenges, and had ignited fury in others to incite them to fight their perceived enemies with passion and ferocity. None of that would be helpful in this situation. This solution was different.
“You care for the female,” Vasil said.
Kronus’s eyes widened as he lifted his gaze to Vasil. “I simply do not wish to see my efforts go to waste.” His voice was too harsh even to his own ears.
Vasil frowned, brow creasing.
The concern on his face sparked something in Kronus’s chest, and the feeling swept through Kronus with all the strength of the ocean slamming into shoreside cliffs.
He knew what he needed to do, knew it with more certainty than he’d ever experienced in all his life.
He twisted to look back at Breckett. “She doesn’t need to see Blake hurt, even if part of her wants it. What she needs is to know The Watch will support her, even when her mate will not.”
Breckett’s eyes softened, and he nodded. “We can do that.”
And more than that, she needs someone. That someone who will stay with her no matter what.
Fortunately, Kronus was nothing if not persistent.
Chapter 7
Eva dreamed of churning red water and terrified screams. She dreamed of Addison’s shredded body bobbing on a sea of blood. She dreamed of them, her friends. They haunted her sleep and her waking hours alike, and all she could do was lay in pain, silently mourning them.
New, broken memories came to her every day, but she had no way of knowing which, if any, were real. She couldn’t rule out the possibility that her mind was simply filling in the gaps with imagined flashes from her nightmares.
The door opened; Eva stared blankly at the ceiling. There were only two people who came to check on her, and they only did so because it was their duty. Deep down, beneath that bitterness, Eva knew Aymee and Kent cared, but they weren’t the people she wanted to see. Everyone who she wanted to visit were too far away, or had abandoned her, or were…dead.
“Look what I brought!” Aymee’s excited voice filled the room. “We can sit you down and take you for a ride outside. It’ll be fun!”
Eva closed her eyes as though it would magically transport her somewhere else. Anywhere else.
Aymee sighed heavily and approached the bed. She settled a hand on Eva’s shoulder. “It’s been ten days, Eva. You need to get out of this bed.”
Eva turned her face toward the wall.
A strange, soft sound drifted to her from the hallway, like something was slithering over the floor.
“You’re here.” Aymee sounded both surprised and co
nfused.
Who is here?
“I didn’t expect to see you back after last time,” Aymee continued.
For a moment, Eva wondered if Blake had come back to apologize for all the hurtful things he’d said, for all that he’d done.
“What is that?” Kronus asked.
“It’s a wheelchair. I was trying to coax Eva outside for some fresh air.”
“Will fresh air help her?”
“Yes. She’s been in that bed since she was brought here. She refuses to leave it.”
In the brief silence that followed Aymee’s words, Eva heard that light, raspy sound on the floor again, softer than before.
Tentacles.
Oddly, the realization wasn’t followed with a wave of revulsion.
“I will take her,” Kronus said without a shred of doubt in his voice.
Like hell you will.
“Are you sure?” Aymee hesitantly asked.
“Yes.”
“Be careful with my patient, Kronus.”
He made a deep grunt that offered no reassurance whatsoever.
Eva opened her eyes and listened to Aymee’s retreating footsteps in disbelief. Aymee was just leaving her to him? To this creature?
Kronus moved slowly around the bed to insert himself between Eva’s eyes and the wall. She rolled onto her left side, giving him her back. Not having to look at him was worth the discomfort in her leg.
“Aymee says you need fresh air, female.”
Eva pressed her lips together. She felt him lingering behind her, his presence a well of heat that made her skin tingle, and she scooted herself a little closer to the edge of the bed to get as far away from him as possible.
It didn’t help when he suddenly leaned forward and slipped his arms beneath her body, lifting her off the bed as though she weighed no more than a feather.
She tensed for a moment before trying to jerk away from him. “Don’t touch me!”
“You need fresh air,” he replied, his hold unbroken despite her struggles. He pulled her against his chest and moved around the bed toward an odd-looking chair with wheels attached to it.
The blanket slid off her and she twisted in his arms and kicked her legs. She shoved against his shoulders and struck him with her fists, but he shrugged off the blows like she was a cranky infant throwing a tantrum.
“Put me down,” she demanded, panting, body already weakening from the exertion. Her left leg throbbed; fiery pain burned from her stump to her hip.
She knew she should’ve been more specific when he sat her in the wheelchair. Eva tried to rise, but Kronus grasped the armrests and leaned over her, caging her in with his body.
“You are going outside, Eva. You can give in and relax, or you can keep fighting until one of us is too tired to continue.” He dipped his head a little closer. “And I will not tire first.”
Eva leaned back in the chair, putting as much distance between them as she could, but there was no escape. She looked up at him, her eyes widening in startlement. This was her first true, up-close look at a kraken.
The humanity in his face was made more alien by his inhuman features. He had tube-like growths where his ears should’ve been, and his nose was wide and flat. There was no hair anywhere on his ochre skin, which had a bumpy texture she’d never noticed from afar — though her brief brushes with it had been like velvety caresses. His jaw was well-defined, his full lips set in determination, and his brow was low over his eyes.
It was those eyes that arrested her attention beyond all else, that caught her and refused to let her go; she feared she’d never be free of them no matter how hard she fought. There were swirls of molten gold, bisected by pupils that were narrowed into horizontal slits. His gaze was heavy, heated, and intense.
His eyes dipped, and his brows shifted infinitesimally.
Kronus lowered himself slightly and dropped his hands from the armrests. They brushed along her outer thighs as he swept them toward her backside, and Eva inhaled sharply as a jolt of excitement ran through her. Breathing shallowly and suddenly helpless to move, she watched as he plucked up the ends of a strap and buckled them over her middle, securing her in place.
“Why are you doing this?” she asked quietly, staring at his large hands and their claw-tipped fingers.
“Because someone needs to.” He pushed away and paused as he was rounding the wheelchair. Without saying anything else, he took the blanket from the bed and draped it over Eva’s lap, covering her thighs — which were largely exposed due to the simplistic gown in which she was dressed. He took his place behind the chair.
A moment later, he was rolling her down the hallway toward the clinic’s exit.
“No,” Eva said. “I don’t want to go out.”
He didn’t slow their steady pace. “But you need to.”
Eva caught her lower lip between her teeth to cease its trembling. She wound her hands into the blanket, clutching the fabric between her fingers.
Just before they reached the door, he spun the chair around. She glanced over her shoulder as he released the chair with one hand, opened the door, and pulled her through backwards.
The first thing she was aware of was how bright it was outside. Ten days indoors had heavily skewed her perception of sunlight, and she had to squint for a while before her eyes finally adjusted. The air bore a hint of the sea that didn’t seem to carry into the clinic. She hadn’t realized how much she’d come to appreciate that scent since she came to The Watch, and she inhaled it deeply now.
But when she closed her eyes, that scent brought her back to the beach. Brought her back to that day.
Her grip on the blanket tightened. “Take me back inside.”
“Why?”
“I don’t want to be out here. I just…want to be left alone.”
“Few of us get to have what we want,” he replied as he turned the chair away from the clinic and pushed her forward.
“I hate you,” she said, unable to keep the tremor from her voice as tears filled her eyes.
There was a slight delay in his response. “Good. At least you feel something.”
At least she felt something? She felt everything. Not a day passed during which she didn’t feel the ache of loss in her chest, the heartbreak, the shock and lingering disbelief. Her friends were gone. Her own physical agony was a constant reminder that she was no longer whole. There was no numbing what she felt, no running from it.
Eva remained silent and kept her gaze downcast as Kronus wheeled her into the town center, a large, paved square bordered by some of The Watch’s larger buildings. It was late enough in the morning for most folk to have moved on to their daily duties, but there were still a few people walking outside. Eva made sure not to look directly at any of them. She’d only find pity in their eyes.
That’s all this was. Pity. She was a burden someone needed to take care of, and Kronus had volunteered.
They crossed the town center and took a right turn at the next intersection, following the new street toward a corner. The turn moved them out of the buildings’ shade, allowing sunlight to fall on Eva’s head and warm her hair.
She closed her eyes, shutting out her surroundings, and tipped her head back. She’d forgotten how good it felt to have sunlight on her skin. All her life, she’d lived in the sun — she’d helped her father with his traps in the jungle, had hiked the mountain trails around Emmiton with friends, and had sometimes worked the fields, always glad to help, glad to be outdoors. Though she’d occasionally assisted Blake with tanning hides and leather after coming to The Watch, she couldn’t stomach the smells and much preferred the open air.
The chair turned again, left this time, and the road became rougher. Eva opened her eyes. “Where are you taking me?”
Kronus didn’t answer. He pushed her along the dirt road, which was flanked on either side by lush vegetation, until they reached a wide area of pastures filled with livestock. He turned the chair toward one of the pastures and halted in the middle of
the road, surrounded by animals making low calls and feasting on the grass.
“Why are we here?” she asked.
“These beasts are odd-looking and have a foul odor,” he said, “but I find their company preferable to that of most people around here. I thought you might agree.”
Eva turned her head and glanced up at him. He was looking at the animals ahead of them, his expression solemn. Frowning, she faced forward again.
I find their company preferable to that of most people around here.
There was so much weight to those words that, for a moment, she saw past her own pain and wondered what lurked within him. She suddenly recalled the callous remarks her friends had made. She wasn’t innocent herself; she’d called him monster.
Guilt assailed her.
“Why are you here, then?” she asked softly.
“Because most people would find the company of these animals preferable to mine.”
“I mean why do you stay in The Watch? Why not go…home?” Eva’s question seemed to strike her harder than it did him; was that what awaited her? A long, painful recovery culminating in a tearful journey back to Emmiton, undoubtedly made more difficult by her injury?
He drew in a deep breath and released it slowly. “I am no longer worthy of my home.”
Eva’s brows lowered.
A krull — a long-necked, four-legged beast covered in violet fur with a splash of red beneath its jaw, and long, slender horns — raised its narrow head and looked their way. Its jaw worked in a steady rhythm as it chewed grass.
“Why do you say that?” she asked.
“For reasons that do not concern you.”
“Then why bring it up?” she asked, her frown turning into a scowl.
“You asked me.”
She glared back at him. “And you started the conversation.”
He returned the glare, undeterred by her expression. “I am trying to be nice.”
Rising from the Depths Page 6
