Page 70 of Immortal Sun

“Wh-what?” Tears start streaming down her face, falling to her clothes, mixing with the water.

It instantly goes from blue to green, the water. Interesting.

Maybe she has more than I thought.

Even better, I can live in peace on Olympus now.

“Eat.” I find myself barking out the order like she’s an animal. “Stay healthy. And like I said, enjoy yourself.”

“I’m leaving.” She turns on her heel.

I hold out my hand and snap two fingers. She’s frozen in place and looks down at her feet but still attempts to move them through the sand.

“Like I said…” I come up behind her and whisper in her ear again. “I’m Ra. You have no power here. I’m the God of Gods, the sun itself. You will yield to me. You will die. And I’ll forget you ever even existed. To dust you will return.”

CHAPTER 16

CLEO

“No one is a total fool if he knows when to hold his tongue.” -Grettir’s Saga, ch. 88

The minute he’s gone, I’m free. I forget about my bag of clothes, I forget about everything, and I run.

I run as fast as I can, away from the mansion, down the street, and toward the ferry terminal. Sweating bullets. There has to be someone who can at least help me!

I stumble over my stupid Converse laces when I finally make it into Deer Harbor. All of the fishing boats are back at the dock and almost every single one of the restaurants looks closed.

Do I run toward the police station?

Do I just scream that my host is a serial killer who wields some sort of evil magic?

I stop running and walk, attempting to look normal as I bypass people near the dock in search of the police station that I could have sworn was on this side of town.

I look behind me to see if he’s following me.

He’s not.

And then naturally I trip on my own feet and nearly go careening over into the water.

My eyes lock on the nearly translucent substance as it washes up against the bridge I’m on.

It’s so pretty and clear.

I can’t look away. How hypnotizing the water is as it caresses the rocks, splashing against them again and again. I smile even though I’m terrified.

“Pretty,” I whisper.

My phone drops out of my hand, hitting the bridge with a thud.

I reach for the water, eager for my fingers to dive into the wetness, to feel its pleasure, its pain. How lovely it must be to be so alive and constantly moving.

My eyes tear up, my fingers tremble, and then I’m suddenly leaning over the bridge, reaching, wishing.

Fingertips touch the cold.

It feels like coming home.

I dip my fingers deeper.

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