Page 23 of Surface Pressure

“What you saw?” Soulara sat up.

Autumn followed suit and looked pale even with the sun painting colors over her face.

Autumn fumbled for words, and Soulara used the opportunity to slide easily into Autumn’s thoughts. “I just meant about you. They won’t believe me.”

In Autumn’s mind, Soulara saw the world she knew, changed and shifted through a lens and perspective that was disorienting.

But then, in a flash of movement, she saw Zendalia. Her body whipping around tentacles, and … Soulara pulled out of Autumn’s mind.

“Are you okay?” Autumn reached out, and Soulara flinched.

The hurt that scrunched Autumn’s features threatened to tear at Soulara’s resolve. But no, she had seen the attack. The one that had caused Zendalia pain, the one that had hurt her and put her life in jeopardy.

She wouldn’t let this soft creature lure her in against her own people. An anger she so rarely allowed bubbled to the surface.

How had she been so stupid as to be lulled into this human’s open face and strange ways? She couldn’t have feelings for Autumn. She shouldn’t have been so stupid as to kiss her. To want more. To want to fuck her on this beach. Or even bring her here.

Autumn was the enemy.

“Do they not believe you because they think you lie or because all they care about is themselves, no matter who’s hurt in the process?”

“It’s not like that.” Autumn jumped to her feet. Her hands clenched into fists at her sides. “You don’t know what it’s like to see your people die because they couldn’t find enough water for a single drink. We’re saving our people.”

“By killing mine!” Soulara’s voice rose. She’d watched people die. She’d watched them become sick from the sun and the thinning water. She’d seen Zendalia’s broken and battered body. Zen’s fins ripped apart to shreds.

“Take me back. Or will you drown me instead?” Autumn accused.

Soulara stood up slowly, pushing into Autumn’s face. That anger took root in the center of her chest, and she wasn’t going to let it go. Not now. “I’m not the murderer.”

“I’ve never killed anyone.” Autumn spoke with scrunched eyebrows. Confusion covered her features, but Soulara didn’t care. Her best friend had been hurt. All because of these thieves.

“But you’ve hurt them.” Soulara wouldn’t give Autumn the satisfaction of explaining her words. She held onto the silence, and as soon as Autumn was about to object, Soulara shook her head sharply to interrupt her excuse. “I’ll take you back.”

Autumn had no chance to protest before Soulara grabbed her by the hand and dragged her to the water. The swim back had no magical moments, no stolen kisses, or shared air.

“What happened?” Autumn asked quietly as Soulara remained in the water, refusing to shift into a form that would so willingly kill her people. She wouldn’t become like them.

“I know you’re not like them. But you need to make your people listen to you. They need to get out of my waters.” Soulara turned away, not wanting to see the hurt she could already imagine in Autumn’s eyes.

“Soulara,” Autumn called, but Soulara pushed herself beneath the water and ignored the warmth of tears as they mixed with the sea.

She swam deep into the water, blindly, not watching where she was going or who might be following her. She should have paid better attention. Wiping her face, Soulara steadied herself and started in the one direction she knew she would be safe.

“Mother?” Soulara called as she got to Milan’s home.

“Soulara.” That calm sweet voice wrapped around her moments before her mother’s arms embraced her. “What’s wrong? You look awful.”

“I’m lost.” Soulara sobbed into her mother’s hair, taking in the familiar warmth and scent. Even in the soundings her mother always smelled of sunshine. Was that magic? Growing up she hadn’t known that had been the scent, but since her magic grew and she learned the secrets of shifting her form she understood it all so much better.

“Come and rest. Tell me what happened.” Milan led her to moss covered rocks.

Soulara all but collapsed onto them, curling her tail under her as she tried to become so small. Before she could word it any other way, the truth of her encounters and subsequent kiss poured out of her.

“What am I going to do?” She might as well have been fourteen seasons again, asking her mother for advice about her attraction to her childhood best friend.

“Oh my sweet child.” Milan pulled Soulara into her embrace.

Soulara rested her cheek against her mother’s chest. She closed her eyes and leaned into her mother’s touch, her fingers gently combing through her hair, and the beat of a steady heart beneath her ear.

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