Page 8 of Secretly Abducted
"You're not afraid of drowning?" Vel'aan asks, watching me with what looks like concern.
"I'm not afraid of anything that involves you," I say simply, dropping my pants on top of my shirt in a messy pile. "You kept me safe once. I trust you to do it again."
The look on his face—surprise, wonder—makes the ten years of wondering worth it. He seems frozen for a moment, just staring at me like I've said something impossible.
"The water is warm," he says finally, his voice slightly rough. "And I'll stay close."
"I know you will," I say, moving to the platform's edge.
There's no ladder, just a three-foot drop to the water. Vel'aan dives in with barely a splash, all alien grace and efficiency. His body cuts through the water like he was born for it—which, I guess, he was. He surfaces near the platform, treading water effortlessly, waiting for me.
I sit on the edge first, legs dangling, then push off and drop into water that's exactly as warm as promised. There's a slight tingle against my skin—mineral content or just the fact that I'm swimming in an alien ocean, I'm not sure which.
Vel'aan stays close, just like he promised, his skin glowing more visibly now that we're in the water. The bioluminescence creates patterns under the surface, following the movement of his arms and legs.
"Ready?" he asks.
I'm treading water in an alien ocean, basically naked, about to follow someone I barely know into an underwater forest, with no real plan beyond "thank you" and "you're attractive."
"Lead the way," I say, and follow him into the alien sea.
Chapter Three
Vel'aan
The human—Alex—moves through the water with more confidence than I expected. Not graceful, certainly not efficient, but there's a determination in his movements that suggests he'd follow me into the deep trenches if I asked.
I shouldn't have brought him here. This is my sanctuary, my place of solitude where no one has followed me in ten years. But he looked at me on that platform with such certainty, such directness, and said he trusted me, and my resolve crumbled like sand.
Now he's here, in my water, wearing almost nothing, and I don't know what to do with any of it.
I dive down to check the zhik'ra beneath us, letting the familiar motion calm my racing heart. When I surface, Alex is right there, treading water, waiting.
"This is incredible," he says, pushing wet hair from his eyes. The water makes his skin glisten in a way that shouldn't be as fascinating as it is. "How deep does it go?"
"Approximately forty meters in this section," I manage, trying to sound professional. Agricultural. Detached. "The zhik'ra forests extend for three kilometers."
"Show me your favorite spot."
The request is so simple, so direct. No Nereidan would ask such a personal question within minutes of meeting. But Alex looks at me expectantly, and I find myself nodding.
"This way. Can you swim distance?"
"I'll manage."
I lead him toward the older growth, swimming slowly so he can keep pace. These are my meditation spaces, where I go when the memories become too heavy. No one else tends thissection—it's not profitable enough for the effort required—but I maintain it anyway.
I dive briefly to examine a cluster of juvenile fish, then surface near Alex. He's watching the spot where I disappeared, and when I emerge, he smiles.
"Purple fish," he says. "Saw them when I went under for a second. They're beautiful."
"They feed on microorganisms that grow on the zhik'ra." I'm treading water beside him, careful to maintain distance. "The ecosystem is quite complex."
"You love it here." Not a question.
"It's peaceful."
"That's not what I mean." He moves closer, and I have to concentrate on keeping my bioluminescence controlled. "This place matters to you."
