Death Wish (The Ceruleans: Book 1) (5 page)

Truthfully, I didn’t. Witches? Vampires? Werewolves? Angelic
demon hunters? I liked fiction I could believe in. Yet I found myself nodding.

‘Of course you do! So, maybe we could hang out this summer?’

The delivery was casual, but there was something else in her
eyes, and I wondered whether Cara, too, knew what loneliness felt like.

‘Sure,’ I said. ‘Why not?’

‘Great! Now, down to business.
The Vampire Diaries
.
Tell me, are you Team Damon or Team Stefan?’

That evening, as I picked my way carefully down the cliff
path to meet Luke, I refused to let the nerves crawling in my stomach ruin my
upbeat mood. I’d spent a good part of the afternoon chatting with Cara (who, it
turned out, was a fabulous source of local gossip, if a little obsessed with
all things paranormal), and had arranged to meet her again the following day.
I’d returned Chester in one piece and pleasantly worn out, and on Bert’s
insistence had stayed for a large slice of fruit cake and a cup of tea. With
two new friends (well, three if you count Chester) and a job under my belt,
this felt like the kind of day for action. I was determined to conquer the art
of surfing, starting now. Never mind that my new wetsuit was hugging my figure
in a way that made me super self-conscious. That carrying the cumbersome board
down the rock path was like lugging a mutant cuttlefish. That the rolling sea,
glittering in the early evening sun, made me dizzy with fear. I saw Luke
waiting near the waterline, plastered a smile on my face and marched across the
beach.

‘You look chipper,’ was Luke’s greeting. He was doing up his
wetsuit, and I glimpsed muscles and smooth, tanned skin before zipper met neck.
He gave me a quick up-and-down look and nodded imperceptibly – at my
now-sensible surfing attire, I assumed.

‘It’s been a good day,’ I told him as I laid my board out on
the sand and kicked off my trainers.

‘Yeah, I heard you got a job with old Bert. Chester not too
much trouble for you, I take it?’

‘He was a little angel,’ I said breezily.

He raised an eyebrow.

‘So, shall we…?’ I gestured at the waves rolling gently in
beside us.

‘Nope. We start our lessons firmly on dry land. Got to walk
before you can run – or in this case, understand how to stand on a board before
trying it out there.’

‘Oh.’ I found myself torn between relief that I wouldn’t be
going into the water and disappointment – I needed to learn. Plus beach-based
surfing instruction sounded rather dull.

In fact, as I soon found out, it was more exhausting than
dull. Luke had me up and down on that board over and over until every muscle in
my body was screaming, all the while firing an endless stream of instructions
at me:

‘Back foot should be turned.’

‘Balance your weight.’

‘Stand like that and you’ll be straight off.’

‘Three, two, one and up – UP!’

‘C’mon now! That’s a dunking in the making.’

‘Foot back.’

I started off compliant, but as the minutes ticked past I
found myself wondering what the heck I was doing here and thinking I’d quite
like to give
Luke
a dunking.

Then a hubbub of voices nearby drew my attention and I
looked up from my belly-to-board position to see a crowd of surfers passing by,
most male but a few females, a black-clad army heading for the water. Even from
this ungainly angle, they looked… well, cool… while I looked like a beached
whale at beginners’ school. I sat up quickly, smoothing back hair that had
fallen out of its loose bun, and watched them. A laugh rang out from the middle
of the pack, and as bodies shifted I caught a glimpse of white-blond hair. Then
a girl jogged forward, opening up a gap, and I saw him, the guy from the
graveyard. His eyes met mine as he came level, and I thought I caught a brief
smile before he ran on to the water. I watched him wade through the shallows
and then mount his board and paddle out.

Beside me, Luke shifted and it occurred to me I’d completely
– and very obviously – zoned out to gawk at these newcomers. I turned to him to
make a light excuse, but he wasn’t looking at me. He was staring out at the
surfers, his hands fisted at his sides.

‘Who are they?’

‘Surfers,’ he said simply. ‘Crazy. Cocky. Reckless.’

The blond boy was the first on his feet. I followed his
course along a wave edge. ‘He’s good!’ I said.

‘No,’ said Luke. ‘He’s not.’

Scarcasm, clearly – the guy was poetry in motion on a
surfboard.

A nudge from Luke broke my stare. ‘Hey,’ he said. ‘I warned
you about kamikaze crap.’

I frowned, disliking his tone. ‘What?’

His hand dropped; his eyes dropped; he answered quietly,
‘Your sister.’

‘What about Sienna?’ But then I got it. ‘These surfers – she
knew them?’

‘She was one of them. Out mornings and evenings with them.
They taught her.’

I looked across at the surfers. They were cavorting on the
water now, hooting and jeering at each other. Did I have the right instructor?
After all, my plan was to infiltrate and probe, not master standing on a
stationary board.

As if reading my thoughts, Luke said, ‘That’s partly why I
offered to teach you. To surf properly. Safely. You could’ve got lessons from
one of them, but you wouldn’t want…’

‘I can make up my own mind about what I want, thank you,
Luke,’ I snapped.

He looked deflated, but I stood firm, arms crossed.

‘You don’t… you’re not… I mean, you do want to surf safely,
don’t you?’

I didn’t look at him, just stared out to sea. What to
answer? Did I want to die? No. I had learned that well enough in the water
yesterday. But did I want to skirt close to death’s clutches out there on the
waves like those surfers; was I prepared to step outside the boundaries of
safety to feel closer to my sister? Hell, yes.

Suddenly, warm hands were on my shoulders, pulling me round,
and I was face to face with Luke, whose eyes were searching mine. ‘Scarlett,
answer me. Do I need to worry about you?’

I smiled at him quickly and shrugged my shoulders, an
indication that he could let go. He didn’t.

‘I’m fine, Luke, really.’

His frown relaxed a little, but the concern was still there
in his eyes.

‘
Really
. I just want to surf.’

He let his hands drop down. ‘Okay then. In we go.’

‘In? Er, I thought it was a beach-bound lesson today? And
isn’t our hour just about up?’

He looked at his watch. ‘Yeah, near enough. This can be off
the clock, though.’

I looked out at the ocean. Yesterday I hadn’t let myself
have time to think; I’d just thrown myself out of bed after waking and rushed
down to the cove and into the water, so desperate after all these months to
understand Sienna’s thinking. But now, today, here with Luke, the thought of
going out there – particularly among a bunch of expert surfers – made my
stomach roll.

‘Well…’

Before I could think of a decent excuse, he was over at my
board and unhooking the leash around my ankle that attached me to it. ‘We’re
not surfing today, Scarlett,’ he explained. ‘We’re swimming. Pass my swimming
test and next time I’ll take you out on the board.’

‘But of course I can swim!’ I protested. ‘Do you really
think I’d have been daft enough to go out there otherwise?’

The corners of his mouth twitched. ‘To be fair, Scarlett, I
didn’t see much evidence of you swimming yesterday. Just splashing and sinking.
I need to know you’re a strong swimmer – that you can handle yourself out there
when the waves are up; could swim to shore from a fair distance off if
necessary.’

I was red-faced, ready to defend myself hotly, when I
realised he was right.

He saw the recognition in my eyes and smiled. ‘Come on,’ he
said. ‘It’s a decent evening for a swim.’

And so, leaving our surfboards stacked up on the beach, we
waded out into the cool waves. With each step my feet sank into the shingly
sand of the ocean bed, and I had the unsettling feeling that it was trying to
pull me down.

‘Ready?’ asked Luke when I was chest-deep.

Whatever I felt, I was not about to let Luke know it – I had
to convince him I was up to this.

‘Ready,’ I said with what I hoped was a relaxed smile.

‘See the rocks out there?’ Luke pointed out to Maynard’s
Point, three jagged rocks about a mile out rising from the perpetual spray of
crashing waves. ‘Head for those, and let’s see how we go.’

He waited for me to move first, and I did, striking out with
the breast-stroke. I tried to recall my swim instructor’s guidance now, to
ensure my form would impress Luke. In moments he was alongside me, just a
couple of metres away, mirroring my stroke and matching my speed. I looked
across to him and he smiled at me but said nothing – it seemed conversation was
not expected on this test, and that was a relief, because the swimming alone
would drain me, I knew.

Away from the shore the waves were rolling, and it took some
effort to swim against them. Nevertheless, I forced myself to kick hard and cut
my arms through the water with strength, taking a diagonal course and
occasionally ducking through the biggest waves rather than over them. Soon my
legs and arms settled into a rhythm.

As we drew level with the surfers, I couldn’t resist
looking. Even from this distance, the boy from the churchyard was easily
identifiable. He sat on his board, waiting for a good wave. Watching me.

Time seemed to slow. I glanced at Luke, found him watching
me too, and turned away to focus on Maynard’s Point ahead. The rocks were
bigger now, closer. My body was screaming at me – already I had pushed myself
today, with the Chester chase, and now it was telling me in no uncertain terms
that enough was enough. In an effort to take my mind off the burn in my
muscles, I let my mind wander. A mistake, as it turned out. Memories flooded
in: of my brush with drowning yesterday; of my headmistress telling me so
gently how Sienna had died; of a lifetime of Mother’s negativity about the deep,
dark sea:
You stay away from the water, girls. You understand me? The
currents, the tides, the creatures – the sea is dangerous, Scarlett, Sienna.
The sea is death.

I took in a gulp of water. Though I willed myself not to
cough, it was inevitable.

At once Luke was close beside me. ‘You okay?’

I got a clear breath and forced a smile. ‘Fine!’ I said,
swimming on a little faster, a little harder. ‘Just mistimed a breath.’

The truth was, I’d be in trouble soon. The strangely
disconnected feeling I had, where my mind seemed separate from my rapidly
numbing body, told me I was down to the very last reserves of energy.

Thankfully, Luke announced the test was over and we should
head back. When I turned, I was surprised to see how far away the shore was;
we’d come some distance. The swim back was easier, with the waves at our backs
pushing us along, but the blurring at the edges of my vision was a worry.

Back on the beach, I forced myself to walk upright, through
crawling was a mighty attractive option, and I sat rather than collapsed on the
sand. Luke settled beside me, and the two of us gazed out to sea as we caught
our breath.

‘Well?’ I said.

He gave me a thumbs-up. ‘How do you feel?’

‘Oh, just fine.’

‘Really? Because I’m bloody knackered.’

I laughed. ‘Okay, then. That was hard work.’

‘But you did great.’

Phew,
I thought.
Test passed.
Now I just
needed to work out how to make it home. Standing, I knew, would bring on
dizziness, and though the cottage was only a five-minute walk away, it seemed a
marathon distance right now. I’d just sit here for a while, I thought, and
watch the surfers. My eyes picked out the blond boy, straddling his board and
waiting for a wave.

‘Do you think you’ve conquered your fear?’

It was a gentle question, and entirely unexpected. Before I
could think of a reply, Luke was talking again.

‘You did well, really well. But I could tell you were tense.
You’re bound to be, after what happened…’

He broke off awkwardly, raking his fingers through unkempt
hair. I felt sorry for him then. Given what he knew of my family, this couldn’t
be easy for him.

My limbs were heavy, my head was buzzing and all at once
keeping up the act of being ‘just fine’ was too much.

‘I was frightened,’ I admitted quietly. ‘It’s not Sienna so
much. Or yesterday morning. My mum, she’s never liked water. She nearly drowned
once – here in the cove, actually, when she was about my age. She never let
Sienna and me go in the sea. Grandad would take us to paddle when we were
little, but when Mother found out she went ballistic. After that, Grandad and
Nanna kept us away. So the sea; well, it was always this scary thing in my mind
– the stuff of nightmares.’

‘So how is it you can swim?’

‘There was a pool at my school. I was banned from going in;
Mother, you know. But when I was fourteen, I started taking lessons. Sienna was
doing them secretly at her school, she told me, and for once… well, it seemed
like a pretty sensible bit of rebellion. So Miss Montgomery, the PE mistress,
taught me privately, out of hours. She didn’t agree with my mother’s ban.
Thought I should learn to swim if I wanted to, if nothing else than for my own
safety.’

‘So you learned in a pool. Yesterday and today, that’s your
first time in the sea?’

I nodded.

Luke gave a low whistle. ‘You’ve got moxie, Scarlett Blake,
I’ll give you that.’

His words made me blink. Had I? I looked out to sea, to the
cresting waves and bobbing surfers and the far-off rocks of Maynard’s Point.
Reality hit me: today, I had walked out into the ocean, and I had swam and
swam, and I had not been swallowed up by the water – I had ridden it, and
returned intact. The sea was not death. Fear was death.

I watched a surfer glide along the curve of a high cresting
wave, finger outstretched to touch the wall of water. There was something
indescribably beautiful about the movement – and what a rush the surfer must be
feeling. For the first time, I found myself thinking beyond ‘I must do that’ to
‘I can do that,
and I want to
’.

I looked at Luke. ‘Today a swimmer, tomorrow a surfer,
right?’

His answering grin was wide and warm. ‘Right,’ he said.