Page 5 of Surging Reef
Bladderwrack seaweed was caressing his calves, and he closed his lips around a sound. He slid deeper into the water, the moon watching him as his underwear got soaked. Then he touched sand.
Blowing out a breath, he looked at Pharos, who was watching him with a tilted head. “Stay there, boy.” He moved forward and bumped his foot on a stone. Fuck. He hissed as his big toe voiced its displeasure, but moved forward. This was ridiculous. He was one step away from land, and his heart was beating a mile a minute.
Then he shrieked. There was no better word for it, but something was scurrying over his foot. He kicked, then before he was aware of what he was doing, he was swimming. No more feet on the ground. Fucking crabs or rockpool shrimps or whatever. Ugh.
Pharos yipped, and Kazimir forced himself to calm down. It was the sea. He went to the beach a few times a week, even to beaches without lighthouses nearby. The only difference was that it was dark.
“I’m okay. Stay.”
He swam a few one-handed strokes since he was clutching the bolt cutter in his right hand. His wet shirt was clinging to his body. Stupid not to get all the way undressed.
When he reached the rowboat, he made a triumphant sound. There was a chain hooked through a metal ring attachedto the pole, and on the chain was a padlock.
The dull plop as the padlock fell into the ocean after he’d cut it shouldn’t be satisfying, but it was.
“We’re master thieves, Pharos.”
Pharos whined and moved on the rock.
“Stay.” The last thing they needed was for Pharos to fall into the water.
Kazimir swam toward Pharos, holding on to the chain in one hand and the bolt cutter in the other. He was sure Michael Phelps would’ve been impressed. Or not.
When his knee hit a rock, he reluctantly stood. He waited a second to see if something would wriggle under his feet, but nothing did.
“Right.” He pulled the boat closer and stepped up on the stone where the bladderwrack was growing. His knees were above the surface, and he curled his toes as best he could on the slippery rock as he grabbed the gunwale and brought the boat as close as possible.
First, he grabbed the break-and-enter backpack and put it on the seat, then he eyed Pharos. He couldn’t ask him to jump since he wasn’t allowed to jump, which meant he’d have to let go of the boat for the time it took to lift him. He carefully removed his hand, and when the boat didn’t move, he snatched Pharos as fast as he could and placed him on the deck or whatever you called the floor.
Now he had to get in himself. Damn.
He spun the boat, so the bow was aimed at Surging Reef, then he placed one foot on the deck and pushed away from the rock with the other. For a moment, he was sure they’d capsize, but then he more or less fell over the seat, and it stabilized.
“Fuck, Pharos. This is why we’re getting a lighthouse and not a houseboat. Lighthouses are sturdy things.”
Pharos moved restlessly from one side of the boat to theother, looking over the side and down at the water.
Kazimir grabbed the oars and got rowing. His wet underwear and shirt dripped onto the seat but there was no use in changing his outfit now. He’d most likely have to bathe again when they went back. He did his best not to think about it.
* * * *
There was a strange sound. Ashby wasn’t sure if it was real or in his head, but he strained to hear it. It sounded like metal on metal, which didn’t make any sense.
Had the waves brought something that was slamming against the rocks?
Was it Anne?
He stopped breathing. He didn’t want to die. He might have told himself he did, since it would put him out of his misery, but he didn’t want to die. He wasn’t ready.
Panic clawed at him. He was too weak to face her. Too weak to keep up a front. He didn’t want to give her the satisfaction of seeing him broken.
Should he try to move? No, better to play dead.
She’d never believe he was dead. She, if anyone, knew how hard vampires were to kill. Starvation didn’t do it.
How long had he been here? He wanted to say weeks, but if it had been weeks, he wouldn’t be this lucid.
Another metallic clank sounded, and he held his breath. Vampires didn’t need to breathe. It was a reflex, and not breathing meant not scenting anything, which could drive anyone insane.
