Page 20 of Lover from the Waves

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Ector lowered his tentacles to the sandy bottom and dragged himself toward the beach. His head broke the surface first as he reached shallower water, followed soon by his shoulders and chest. He lifted his gaze to the patch of grass just above the pale sand. Though the sky was rapidly shifting toward the oranges and reds that would dominate it as the sun fell into the sea, the orange glow of the fire stood out against the green grass and dark rocks.

He shook excess water from his skin and continued forward, raising his catch to ensure it didn’t end up coated in sand by the time he reached the camp. The boat that had brought them here was still resting in the spot to which Ector had pushed it. Its sail was furled, its lines secured, and it showed only the slightest hints of movement in the persistent sea breeze. For a moment—a ridiculous moment—Ector was a little jealous of the vessel for its complete, undisturbed rest.

His greatest exertion today had been pushing the boat onto the beach, but even that had resulted only in minor aches in some of his joints—nothing he wasn’t used to. He’d seen more physical activity than this during most every other day of his life. But he was tired, nonetheless.

No, not really tired,he corrected.Just ready to relax.

Relaxation was one of those words the kraken had always known but had never had use for. Everyday life had been about individual survival, about the survival of their entire race. They had to monitor food, go on hunts, defend the waters around their home, teach younglings the skills they would need to live in their harsh underwater world. What time had there been to relax?

But things were different now. There was little question as to whether there’d be food to eat; the kraken partnership with humans had resulted in excessive bounty. Ector’s people had been afforded time to learn new skills, to build new relationships, to enter a new age.

And here he was with a fat fish in hand, having fulfilled that old kraken tradition of providing for a female for the first time in at least fifteen or twenty years.

He chuckled to himself as he moved past the boat and climbed the rocky slope toward the grass. What was it some of his new human friends were fond of saying?

The more things change, the more they stay the same.

Though he more and more frequently felt every year of his age, Ector still felt like a young, virile male in many ways. Perhaps he’d gained wisdom and perspective over time…but he still felt like the same kraken he’d been thirty or forty years ago. And being around Kathryn only strengthened that feeling. There was a certain youthfulness to her that was impossible to resist—as impossible to resist as her beauty.

He was glad she’d found the diving suit, was glad she’d been eager to swim with him. He’d been excited about the idea from the moment he’d conceived it. He’d have to wait until he found the right place to introduce her to his world—which meant he would have to look at the sea throughhereyes as he scouted over the coming days. Even that prospect had him brimming with eagerness, in part because they were already in waters he’d never traversed. This was all as new to him as it was to her.

And, when he finally took her below…he would dance for her. He’d not had reason to in a long, long while, and he found himself thrilled to have the chance. He couldn’t be sure how she’d take it, but it would happen.

As he crested the small rise, Kathryn came into view. She was sitting, rifle laid across her lap, on a low rock in front of the fire she’d built, which itself was near the canvas tent they’d erected together. She’d removed her boots and head covering. The supplies she’d deemed essential enough to bring to camp were arranged beside the tent.

“I have returned”—Ector raised his hand, displaying the fish he’d caught, which was as long as his arm—“with the bounty of the sea.”

She turned her head toward him and grinned, setting the rifle carefully on the ground. “It’s been a long time since someone brought me dinner.”

“If I knew how to cook it, it would be the perfect gift.” He stopped near the fire. The heat it gave off was both pleasant and disconcerting; spending his life in the water had made such sensations foreign to him, and he was still growing accustomed to them even after two years in The Watch.

Kathryn chuckled. “It’s still a gift all the same—and it saves our food stores.” She rolled up her sleeves, baring her arms. “Come, I’ll show you how to cook it.”

She tugged a knife from her belt and took the lead. The process humans went through tocleana fish was still baffling to Ector. He watched with fascination, and couldn’t resist eating many of the parts she cut away as though they were refuse. Her little cringes as he ate those morsels made him chuckle more than once.

“I’m sorry,” she said, shaking her head. “I don’t mean to make faces or insult you, but…”

“It is all right,” he said, offering her a smile. “I know humans do not find all parts of these creatures palatable.”

She laughed. “We don’t find themedible.”

From that point forward, she handed the bits she removed to him directly. That warmed his hearts in a way he’d never imagined possible—it was a small but powerful show of acceptance.

But more interesting than what she was doing—or the morsels she was feeding him—was her skill. Her hands moved with practiced ease, making the blade seem as natural an extension of her body as Ector’s claws were to his.

Within short order, she had several thick fillets cooking at the fire. Ector found the aroma of cooking meat an enticing one. Though he’d never imagined that taste could be altered so drastically by such simple processes and methods, he’d come to enjoy such flavors during his time amongst humans. And, despite the nibbles he’d already had, the smell of roasting fish made him realize just how hungry he still was.

He and Kathryn washed their hands and sat beside one another to wait until the food was ready.

“I’ve seen so many sunrises and sunsets through the years, but they never lose their beauty,” Kathryn said softly.

Ector glanced at her. Her eyes were focused toward the sea, and he turned his head to follow her gaze. The sun was a red-orange disk on the horizon, its bottom curve barely touching the sea, and the sky was stained with lovely colors that only seemed to exist during this time of day. The reds and oranges gave way to pinks and purples amidst the clouds, and everything darkened toward the land—deep blues, grays, and violets spreading as night followed in the day’s wake. All those colors were reflected—albeit darker—on the water.

“You are right. They never do,” he said, but his attention returned to her. There was a hint of wonder in her eyes and serenity in her expression; she exuded a sense of peace and fulfillment that only enhanced her allure.

Ector shifted a tentacle toward her and loosely curled it around her ankle. Its tip brushed beneath the cuff of her pants, and his suction cups tasted the salty sweetness of her skin; he craved more. “And I can think of no one better to enjoy it with.”

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