Page 50 of In Death's Hands
I feel an arm grabbing me by the middle, and only then do I glance back. Nathan looks heavenly in the paradise’s light. His features are undecided between amusement and annoyance; I can tell because although his eyes are still narrowed, the corners of his lips are fighting gravity.
I only understand why he grabbed me when I look back at the turtle, its head still floating slightly above the water. I almost stepped on averyjagged rock. Oh well…Turtle!
My head swipes back on its own at the sound of Nathan’s laugh. I think I said “turtle” out loud again. I’m still flush against him, his grip like steel. And though I usually hate feeling captive and stuck, I’m perfectly content to be held by him. I find his eyes, already focused on me, and my breathing turns shallow. Under the bright sky, there are specks of gold in his pupils. It’s gorgeous.
My gaze drops to his mouth and my thoughts turn to that dark corner where our desires came alive. To the way he held on to me. But he hasn’t mentioned our wild kiss since it happened. I can only assume he regrets it. That it was done in a moment of extreme vulnerability and he’d rather put it behind us. Fine, I can understand that. After all, how many times have I sought comfort in the arms of strangers when loneliness was digging its sharp claws into me?
It hurts though, his rejection. Because I’ve felt more alive this past week with Death’s assistant at my side than I have in the last decade.
Nathan clears his throat, and I feel his body stiffen against me. He looks at the ground before gently putting me back down on the sand.
“So… you like turtles,” he says, blushing slightly.
“Sea turtles, yes. They just look so peaceful when they swim, but I’ve never seen one in person before.”
“Then I’m glad we came.”
My heart jumps in my chest at his earnest expression. He clearly doesn’t want to be here. The careful looks he keeps throwing around and the scowl on his face every time he glares at the sun are clear enough. But I can’t help but believe him when he looks at me like this. Like he’d endure everything ten times over just to see me smile.
And when I say endure everything, I mean endure the terrible, menacing beauty that is Maui. He’d said “hot island” when I questioned him right before Fading, which could describe a great many places on Earth. But looking around at the clear blue ocean, the tall mountain peak and the many, many tourists sporting “I love Maui” beach towels and shorts is a big giveaway as to where, exactly, Death’s assistant has brought us.
I observe all the faces around us and wonder why no one is gawking at us. I mean, it’s not every day people just appear out of thin air in front of you, right? Nathan answers my unasked question. “When we Fade, your human consciousness fills in the blanks. It’s amazing what people’s minds can create simply to avoid any sort of confusion or questioning.”
I don’t really like how he puts us all in this blessedly ignorant group, but even I can’t deny that a lot of people prefer ignorance over uncomfortable truths.
“So why Maui?” I ask, trying to get back on track.
“Because you said we need help.”
I nod. “And?”
“And this is where we can find Thalnus and his court.” He starts walking away from the shore, his long legs having no trouble on the ever-moving sand.
I look back at the water longingly before following him. “You think they’ll agree to help us?”
It’s been such a strange, long day. Or night, rather. I can’t believe just a few hours ago I was facing the leader of the gods, and now I’m in Hawaii. I honestly don’t know what’s more unbelievable.
I know they said they don’t really need to sleep or eat or… Yeah, not going there. But don’t they need rest? I know I’m the one who pushed to come right away, but as I’m panting and struggling to simply walk on the beach, I’m starting to regret it. As if my body realises how tired I am at the same time I do, I lose my balance and find myself suddenly eating sand. Great.
Nathan is far ahead of me and doesn’t seem to notice I’ve fallen behind. I don’t know if I’m relieved or offended. I get up and keep going, and by the time I reach him, the whole beach is sticking to my sweaty skin. I’m breathing hard and I want to smack the cool and collected look off his stupid face. I am from London; I was not built to take so much heat! His eyebrows shoot up in surprise when he sees me, but before he can say anything, I huff and puff and walk past him.
I don’t care if I don’t know where I’m going, I’m going! Almost on their own, my legs take me to a booth selling coconuts. I beg for one and the seller starts opening it up. As he hands it to me with a paper straw, I realise I don’t have any money.
Actually, I don’t have any ID, or a phone, or a clue where that leaves me. What if I get arrested and they realise I’m here illegally? Oh boy… A hand I recognise instantly appears in my peripheral vision and drops something into the vendor’s palm. Idon’t know how Nathan already has dollars, but he quickly pays for my drink—or is it food?—and gently guides me to one side.
I inhale the coconut water and passionately hack my way into the fruit’s flesh while he looks at me worriedly. I think I have my answer from before: I prefer when he doesn’t notice my weaknesses.
He’s so quiet it’s unnerving, but I’m too focused on eating. Our dinner seems like both minutes and days away. My biological clock feels like a time lord is playing with it, taking it everywhere, anywhere, all at once, just for fun.
Well, let me tell you, it’s far from fun.
In the distance, I focus on a group learning to surf. I hear the waves coming and going, peaceful in their eternal dance. I match my breathing to their elegant movements. In. Out. I start to feel a little bit more like myself. In. Out. I’m in Hawaii. That thought alone threatens the quiet tide. In. Out.
My eyes take in the bluest of blue skies, the white sand, the colourful spots made up of tourists and wildflowers. Then they settle on Nathan, and there they rest.
“Are you all right?” he asks, his own gaze taking in all of me. I can see him wonder if I’m having a breakdown, and honestly, if I wasn’t wondering the same thing, I’d snap at him.
But as it seems I can’t speak, I merely nod and keep breathing, only taking breaks to suck in the delicious coconut. He doesn’t seem convinced, and I can’t blame him. But we have more important things to focus on, so I gather everything inside me—picture myself holding my inner walls up with weakening arms—and nod a second time to convince myself.
