Part 32 (1/2)

Perrin did not resurface. Not right away. Two full minutes ticked by. She knew, because she kept checking Eddie's watch. His presence was quiet on the other side of the wall in her mind-quiet, except for a brief flare of fury that flashed through her like a bolt of red lightning. She almost dropped the wall to see what was in her head, but the parasite whispered, Wait.

”Rik,” she said.

”No way I'm helping him,” he replied, but Eddie gave him a sharp look, and the shape-s.h.i.+fter began stripping off his shorts.

He didn't need to enter the sea, though. Perrin appeared, hauling someone with him. Jenny ran to the stern, getting down on her knees and reaching.

But she pulled back when she saw who was bleeding and unconscious in Perrin's arms.

Les.

Chapter Sixteen.

Perrin wondered if being directly responsible for the end of the world was justification enough for an impromptu execution. Like in human movies. One last word, then bang. Dead.

He had drowned those pirates for less.

Jenny touched her bruised face and studied A'lesander like he was a wet, dirty stain on an even dirtier pair of underwear. Blood oozed from his shoulder where a bullet had ripped away a chunk of flesh. Part of his upper arm was missing, too. He still wore his water-body, iridescent blue scales turning a sickly gray. The swelling on his broken nose was slightly improved, but his nose had been set badly and was still crooked.

Perrin gave Sajeev a sharp look. ”How did you know he was there?”

The old man gave him a yellow-toothed grin. ”Why didn't you?”

He struggled to keep his voice even. ”Is there anyone else in these waters?”

Sajeev shrugged, but that smile still played along his mouth. ”You tell me.”

Eddie cleared his throat, very deliberately stepping between them to kneel beside Les with a first-aid kit in hand. He opened a white packet and squeezed a liquid, granular substance over the shoulder wound. He packed it deep into the torn flesh, and it seemed to congeal, thickening on contact with the blood. He followed a similar procedure with the tear in A'lesander's arm.

”What is that?” Perrin asked.

”Clotting agent,” Jenny answered for Eddie. ”Military grade, for battlefield wounds. Stops bleeding, and then just . . . pulls out . . . when you finally get to a hospital.”

”A'lesander isn't going to make it to a hospital,” Perrin replied, ignoring Eddie's speculative glance. He was tired of the young man looking at him like that-as though he were a bomb, just ticking away.

But you are, Perrin told himself, glancing around. He saw a crowbar hooked into a nook near some fis.h.i.+ng nets. He grabbed it, and before anyone could say a word, brought it down hard on Les's right hand. Same hand he'd used to punch Jenny in the face.

Bone crunched. Les jerked awake, screaming. Perrin slammed a foot down on his chest, holding him in place as his tail flopped wildly. He made terrible, guttural noises of pain and tried to hold his hand against his stomach. His fingers bent at strange angles.

Eddie fell back, staring-heat rolling off him in throbbing waves. Rik leaned hard against the rail, grim-faced, golden light flaring in his eyes. Jenny wore no expression at all. For a moment he wondered if he had gone too far.

But then he looked at the bruises on her face, and the shadows around her eyes-rope burns fading on her wrists-and he thought of how he'd first seen her, drowning, with A'lesander merely looking on-and then punching her- ”A'lesander,” he said, just loud enough to be heard over the Krackeni's shuddering pants. ”A'lesander. You are very desperate, or very stupid.”

”You crazy f.u.c.k,” he whispered, raggedly. The sounds of yet more cracking bones filled the air, and the iridescent scales on his muscular tail rippled and flexed like a waterbed. Scales receded into flesh, then split apart, folding as those long muscles tore into legs and feet. Ugly to watch, and the blood of his human ancestor made his s.h.i.+ft more difficult than it would have been for Perrin.

”Just a little crazy,” Perrin replied. ”Did you lead anyone here?”

A'lesander bared his teeth in a hissing laugh. ”Don't need to. Eyes everywhere.”

Perrin crouched, balancing the crowbar over his thighs. Silent. Sinking into the dark place. He held A'lesander's gaze, and saw the exact moment when fear began to replace the anger.

He looked past Perrin. ”Jenny.”

Perrin almost grabbed his broken hand and twisted. ”Don't look at her.”

”Let him look,” Jenny said, her voice low, cool. ”My good friend.”

A'lesander shuddered, closing his eyes. His right arm trembled violently, his broken hand hovering over his stomach.

Eddie crouched behind him. Perrin expected to see pity on his face, or righteous outrage; but the young man stared at the back of A'lesander's head with dead eyes.

”Ma'am,” he said quietly. ”Is this the man who hit you?”

”Yes,” she told him.

Eddie nodded. When he leaned forward to help A'lesander sit up, he dug his thumb into the shoulder wound. A'lesander made a strangled sound, then clamped his mouth shut. Red-faced, quivering.

”We need to talk,” he gasped, when Eddie stopped putting pressure on the wound and finally had him sitting up.

”Talk.” Bitterness crept into Perrin's voice. The crowbar felt good and cold on his thighs. ”You came here to talk.”

”You were right,” Jenny said. ”Desperate or stupid. I say both.”

Perrin's mouth ticked into a grim smile. ”I left you tied up on that s.h.i.+p. How did you get free?”

”A Priori.” A'lesander glanced at Jenny, then looked away like it hurt him to see her. ”They came to The Calypso Star and let me go.”

”They would have trusted him,” she said with disgust. ”What did you tell them, Les? That Perrin kidnapped me?”

He did not confirm or deny, which told Perrin all he needed to know. Someone else was out there who would want him dead. If they thought he had hurt Jenny, he didn't blame them.

A'lesander looked at Jenny again, but this time his gaze lingered. Perrin gritted his teeth as he watched grief and regret touch his face . . . right before slipping away into shame.

Perrin was afraid to look at Jenny. Friends . . . those two had been friends, maybe more, no matter what she said. . .

He looked. Jenny stood so still, staring down at A'lesander with her mouth set in a hard line, her unblemished cheek flushed red. The other side of her face was mottled purple, a sickly yellow. Her eyes did not match the hard bitterness of her mouth. All he saw in them was sadness, which held a strange, hypnotic power.

”You hurt me,” she said, some question in her voice. Why? Perrin heard. Why did you do that to me?

Her family had betrayed her, he remembered. She had suffered violence at the hands of family. Now this.

”I didn't mean to,” he began, but Eddie made a small sound of anger, and Perrin's hand snaked out, grabbing A'lesander's throat.

”Don't lie,” he whispered. ”I suppose your fist had a mind of its own. You already killed one friend. Are you going to tell me you didn't mean that, either?”

A'lesander's entire body tensed. Maybe there was grief, maybe there was shame inside him, and pain-but Perrin sensed burning rage when he touched the man, and he saw it when their gazes met.