Part 27 (1/2)

”Indianapolis. St. Louis. Detroit. New York City. I took odd jobs, anything I could get. Most of that work involved construction, heavy lifting. My friend, the one I told you about . . . his name was Tom. He helped me get fake papers-birth certificate, a social security number. After my arrests, I suppose I would have been deported without those things.”

Jenny didn't know what to say. Chicago. He had been in Chicago. New York. On land while she lived at sea.

”You're so quiet,” Perrin said. ”Does it bother you? The way I've lived?”

”Of course not,” she replied. ”I just wish . . .”

I wish I had known where you were. Maybe if I had asked for help, talked to someone in my family, trusted them enough to use those d.a.m.ned psychic gifts . . . I had your scale, I had something they could have used to track you . . .

No. Too late. She had made her choice.

”I'm sorry,” she said. ”I'm sorry we didn't find each other.”

Perrin was silent a long time. ”Did you ever tell anyone about that morning on the beach?”

”What was there to tell? That I found a merman when I was a kid, and couldn't stop him from being dragged into the ocean by his tail?” Jenny shook her head, feeling bitter. ”I never breathed a word of what happened that day. To anyone.”

”But the pieces have still fallen back together. You and me,” he murmured, his large hands closing around her wrists, comforting and strong. His breath was warm against her hair, and if she turned her head, just so, if she let herself, if she dared- She did. And brushed her lips against his cheek.

Just a simple touch. Hardly anything to it. But heat swelled, flowing from her throat into her stomach-making her ache in body and heart. The heartache was worse. She didn't know what she was doing here-not what was happening to her and not how she could control it. Make it safe.

Nothing is safe. Nothing. You know that. You're a big girl, and you have what you always wanted. Don't be an idiot. Grab it. Take it. Don't look back. Bear what comes. You're good at that, Jenny-girl. You're good at rolling with the punches.

Take it.

Jenny reached up and grabbed a fistful of Perrin's long hair. Silken, s.h.i.+mmering silver in her hands. He stilled, but when she tugged, ever so gently, he dipped his head and kissed her mouth. Soft, careful, painfully tender.

Jenny pulled away, though it hurt to do so.

”Why?” she asked him, finding it hard to breathe. ”Why the dreams? Why this, now?”

His fingers drifted up her hair, to her cheek, grazing her skin and leaving a trail of heat. ”Something happened that day on the beach. Something very rare. I should have realized, but I never did until now. We were bonded, Jenny.”

”Bonded,” she echoed.

Something lost, haunted, filled his gaze. ”I don't know how it happened, I promise you that. Mind to mind-”

”A telepathic link,” she interrupted. ”My grandparents have one of those. Always in each other's heads.”

Perrin hesitated. ”You have lived a strange life.”

Jenny poked his knee. ”Tell me about this bond.”

”I don't know much,” he said, capturing her hand. ”But what I do know is that it runs deep. It's different for each pair. And it's almost never formed between a human and Krackeni.”

”Almost never.”

”I know of only one who would admit it, and he's half-human himself. We're not supposed to mix, though it happens.”

”I don't even know what's happening with us,” she muttered. ”I looked for you, Perrin, all my life. I was obsessed. Are you telling me it was because I didn't have a choice?”

”There's no mind control involved. There's always a choice. But the bond would have kept me in your thoughts.”

Jenny begged to differ about the mind control. She was being controlled quite a lot, it seemed. But the parasite, she had to concede, had nothing to do with being a twelve-year-old girl who had sat every day on a beach, waiting for a boy to come swimming from the sea. It had nothing to do with the woman that girl had become, a woman who couldn't stare at the sea without seeing silver hair and pale eyes.

The parasite had nothing to do with dreams. Nothing to do with anything but trying to drown her and speak riddles inside her head.

Jenny sat up straighter, hoping he would look down and somehow see through her tangled matted hair to the growing lump at the base of her skull.

Look, she thought, fighting her arms that refused to move. Look down, look, touch me there ”What did you think would happen if you found me?” Perrin asked suddenly, quietly. Jenny wanted to hug her knees to her chest. Like a child again, lost.

”Not this. It doesn't matter, I guess.”

”It matters.”

”I was a kid,” she said. ”A stupid kid. I imagined-”

Jenny couldn't say it. She couldn't tell him that she had imagined that he would hold her hand, like he did in those dreams, and sit with her, and just be with her. That he would be hers.

”So we're . . . bonded,” she whispered instead, unsure what that even meant or how she felt; a little scared, a little trapped. ”We're inside each other's heads. That's why we shared those dreams.”

”It's more than that,” he replied, with obvious reluctance. ”Each bond might be different, but some elements are consistent. The longer we're together, the more . . . attuned we'll become to one another. The harder it will be for us to be apart. Until we won't be able to be apart.”

The dog perked its ears, staring at Perrin. Jenny did the same. ”What happens if we are?”

Perrin ducked his head. ”What would happen if one of your grandparents died?”

Something cold slithered down her spine, and she thought about her grandmother and grandfather, how close they were, how comfortable. How they depended on each other. It had never been a weakness, but a strength, between them. Beautiful, impossible strength.

”The other would follow,” she said.

Perrin nodded, still not looking at her. Gently, carefully, he pushed away and stood. She let him, watching in silence as he walked to the door, out into the night. His absence made her cold, and she stared after him, even when he disappeared from sight, searching herself for evidence of that bond. Like it should be lit up in neon, or something.

All she felt was a hunger to be near him. That was all. An ache in her chest. She didn't feel empty, or less like herself. She was still Jenny. But Jenny wanted to be near Perrin.

She wished she knew if that was all her, or the parasite. The parasite, or something else. She didn't want to be controlled by a bond that she didn't understand. If she was going to want a man, it had to be because she really wanted him.

And don't you want him?

Simple question. Simple answer. Jenny had always wanted to be near Perrin, ever since seeing him for the first and last time on that beach.

If anything was true, it was that. She'd tried her best to live a normal life around that need, but it had always been there, in the depths of her heart. And after her carefully constructed life had fallen apart. . .

The dog pawed her thigh. She hugged the sleek, wriggling body close to her side, ignoring its wet nose against her hand.

”Good boy,” she whispered absently.