Map of Fates (14 page)

Stellan hauled himself to sitting. “You always have a choice.”

I fiddled with the hem of my dress. “I don't think you've been paying very close attention. I'm so important in every aspect of what we're doing, but it's becoming obvious that
none
of it is my choice. I have literally three days until the Saxons marry me off. I'm just a particularly valuable puppet.”

Stellan swung his legs around and perched on the edge of the chaise, facing me. “Lots of people in your shoes would already be on the beach in Indonesia. Refusing to run away
is
a choice. It's a brave one.”

Suddenly, I couldn't sit still. “Why do you say stuff like that?” I paced the deck, my bare feet slapping the smooth, cool wood, remembering what Jack said had first attracted him to me. He saw me at school, looking like I didn't care. Doing what I wanted, even if it wasn't what everyone normally did. He didn't realize I was doing it because I didn't have another option.

“I'm only here because I have to be. It's not exactly something to be proud of.”

I could feel Stellan's eyes on me. “So you care about people and get stronger in response to difficult circumstances,” he said. “Those are good things.”

The ropes anchoring the boat next to us—the
Konstantinos,
according to the name emblazoned on its side—creaked against the dock.

Then a strange sound came from outside. A kind of a gruff growl. Stellan jumped up and hurried into the cabin. Just as quickly, he reemerged. “Hide,” he mouthed at the same time I heard a strange voice call out, “
Astynomía.
Police.”

Stellan dragged me behind the bar. We crouched side by side under the bar top.

“Why would the police be here?” I whispered.

“I don't think they would,” he said, confirming my fears. What if Jack was right, and the Order had come to kidnap me?

The voices were closer now. I heard Colette speaking in French, then Elodie chimed in using English, obviously for my benefit.

“I think you have the wrong boat,” she said sweetly.

“We have orders. We must make a search,” the man said. A low bark accompanied the statement.
Dogs.
Even if the men didn't find us, dogs would in seconds.

I leaned close to Stellan. “The water,” I breathed. Stellan nodded, then pointed at the bracelet on my arm. I slipped it off, and he stashed it inside an empty ice bucket, covering it with cocktail napkins and stuffing it under the bar.

While Colette and Elodie led the men around inside—stalling, thank God—I stayed low and slipped over the boat's dive deck, clinging to the metal ladder.

The water was
freezing.
I bit back a gasp as my sundress billowed around my waist. I was about to remind Stellan
he
didn't need to hide, but he'd already lowered himself after me and flicked his fingers toward the dinghy tied to the side of the yacht.

There wasn't much sunlight left, and down here it felt even darker than on the deck. We approached the dinghy, making for the narrow crevice between the smaller boat and the larger one—this was as hidden as we were going to get. I pushed myself back into it. Stellan glided silently behind me.

I realized immediately this wasn't the best hiding place. The “police” only had to lean over the edge behind the bar to see us. The
Konstantinos
wasn't more than ten feet away. Maybe we should get around the other side of it. It'd involve being exposed for a few seconds, but—

The water around us went from dusky to fully lit. Someone had flipped the floodlights on the deck. We were still in relative shadow, but the ripples from our swim fanned out, crystal clear in the reflections.

We both went very still, me pressed back into the nook between the barnacle-covered hull of the yacht and the slick surface of the dinghy, and Stellan with his back to me, my face on level with his sunburst tattoo. I could see both it and his sword tattoo perfectly through his soaked white shirt.

I tried to hold on to the side of the boat, but my fingers kept slipping. Stellan was gripping a rope from the dinghy I couldn't quite grasp, so he reached behind him and grabbed a handful of my dress, pulling me against him and locking me there. I pushed away for a second, automatically, until I realized I was being stupid. This was much easier. And he was
warm.
I let my arms snake around his waist.

The voices came closer. Stellan put one of his hands over mine.

“Can I interest you in a drink?” Colette's sugary voice echoed off the hull of the next boat over. I marveled for a second at how quickly she'd taken to scheming with us. We'd arrived just yesterday, upended her whole world, and now she was playing the perfect distraction. “We have a bar with a
magnifique
view on the upper deck.”

Stellan's hand tightened. Oh no. Colette must have assumed we were hidden on the lower deck and was giving us time to get away. But on the lower deck, at least they'd have to maneuver around a pile of life jackets to see us. On the upper deck, all they had to do was stand by the railing.

One of the men grunted, the dogs snuffled, and I heard a clear “Yes.”

Their boots clomped up the stairs, and I let go of Stellan, who took the opportunity to turn silently to face me. The tips of his blond
hair were wet, darkened. The scars on his shoulders almost glowed. “Around the other side,” I mouthed, pointing, but it was too late. A hollow thump of boots, and I looked up to see a shadow heading straight toward the railing overhead.

I heard Colette follow, asking about the city farther down the shore. One of the guards reached the railing and leaned over, and I froze. He looked down—then his dog gave a gruff yap and he turned back. I let out a breath.

“Show us what is kept down there,” one of the “police” said. He leaned over the railing again.

I looked around frantically for a hiding place that didn't exist—and Stellan pulled on my hand and pointed down. With no time to think of anything else, I took the deepest breath I could and slipped under the dark water.

We may not have been able to see much, but we could still hear Colette laughing, and the low rumble of men's voices.
Go get that drink,
I urged her silently.
Show them your movie poster. Do something.
Pressure was already building in my chest. I was starting to twitch, to feel the carbon dioxide building up behind my eyeballs. Stellan didn't seem distressed at all. Of course—Keepers probably had Navy SEAL–level water training. I let the air out of my lungs in a string of tiny bubbles, like you're supposed to do to hold your breath longer, but just seconds later, my body, on its own, was straining toward the surface. I pushed against Stellan, forcing myself farther under the water. I could hold on for maybe another thirty seconds.

But they were
still
talking, still directly above us.
Move!
I screamed in my head. In front of me, I felt Stellan rising a little. I wasn't used to opening my eyes underwater while I had contacts in, but I couldn't help it. The salt stung, but my contacts seemed to stay in place, and after a couple blinks, I could see Stellan's outline. He rose enough
to stick just his face out of the water, take a breath, and come back down into the murky dark.

Yes.
Why hadn't I thought of that?

My body gasped for breath, and I had to force my mouth not to open yet. I rose just like he did—but stopped. I tried again.

Something was pulling on the back of my dress. I yanked on it, but it wouldn't budge. It took me a second to process what was happening. I'd pressed far enough back into this crevice that I'd run into the ropes or the hooks or something. My dress was stuck.

I was trapped underwater. And I was out of air.

I
looked up frantically to see Stellan's face right above me. I yanked on the dress again, harder. Stellan's eyes went wide. Sparkles danced in front of my eyes.

The men were above us, still talking, sounding fainter now as my head fuzzed. I pushed out the last tiny bit of air as I yanked harder on my dress, then Stellan was pulling at it, too.

Air.

I felt Stellan move away—maybe, I wasn't sure. Air air air
air
any second now my mouth was going to pop open and I was going to inhale water it was physiological you couldn't stop it that was how you drowned
air
it was like my mouth was being forced open
air
if I died no one else would save my mom the Order would kill her
air
—no no no
no
said the last wisps of thought in my mind—but I was breathing in and I couldn't stop it—

Air. I was breathing in air. Clarity came rushing back to my mind. I grabbed on to Stellan, whose mouth was suctioned over mine, giving me all the air from his lungs.

He detached carefully, holding up one finger. I flailed, shaking
my head frantically, definitely not enough oxygen in me yet. I let out bubbles, so I had empty lungs again as he rose once more, then came back, holding my face between his hands, and I drank in the air greedily, unable to stop myself from clutching his head to me, pulling him as close as I could. This time, I realized water was leaking into my mouth, too, a briny taste on my tongue.

I was still dizzy, not quite there. I remembered somewhere in the back of my mind a lifeguarding class I took when we were living on the coast. This kind of rescue breathing was not advised because the victim always panics and takes too many breaths. But the lifeguard had said she'd seen it work where the two people breathed back and forth for a few seconds to get the victim's lungs working normally again.

Stellan tried to pull away, but I pulled his head back to mine. At first he resisted the air going back into his chest, but then he got it. There was so little light down here a couple feet below the surface, but I could see his eyes staring straight into mine until mine fluttered closed at the euphoria of
breathing,
in and out, in and out. I almost forgot Stellan's mouth was on mine until he gently closed off our lips and detached my hands from where they'd clawed into his hair. The air we were passing probably didn't have any oxygen left. He held up a finger again.

This time, I was alert enough to think about what was happening as he slid back down beside me, his hands pushing back the hair swirling around my face. I felt a ridiculous flash of guilt for just a second. But I wasn't
kissing
him. This was clammy and salty and terrifying and entirely unsexy. He was literally breathing life into me, and I pulled him close hungrily again, emptying my lungs to make room for more before I brought his lips to mine. Unlike the last two times, I was aware of his chest contracting against me as he emptied
his lungs into mine and let me breathe back and forth with him for a second.

As I took the last of this breath, I realized the voices above had stopped. Stellan looked up, too, his blond hair floating out around his head like a halo. He let go of my face and rose to the surface again, slowly peering out of the water. He must have decided they were gone, because he popped the rest of the way out, swimming quickly away. I didn't know what he was doing, but I knew he'd come back. And sure enough, a second later, he was shooting toward me underwater, something in his hand. My lungs ached again, out of air so much faster now that they'd been traumatized.

He gave me one more lungful of his breath, and I could feel heat at the corners of my eyes. Even surrounded by water, I could tell I was crying as the dreamy panic lifted and the reality of what was happening set in. Stellan pulled away and swam behind me. He plunged whatever was in his hand into the material of my dress, and I felt a pull, then a sudden lightness.

I shot to the surface. My head broke into the cold dry dark, and I took gasp after sobbing, coughing gasp of air air air air.

Hot tears streamed down my cold cheeks and my whole body quaked. Stellan popped up beside me, and there was finally enough light for me to see he looked terrified. He took my face between his hands, examining me.

“Are you okay? Can you breathe?” he whispered.

My throat was raw. My eyes burned. My lungs felt like they couldn't possibly expand enough to hold all the oxygen I wanted. I nodded.

Stellan muttered what I could tell was a string of curses in Russian, and I wanted to apologize, for whatever I'd done that had gotten me stuck down there, for being who I was that made it necessary for us
to hide. For putting him in danger, too. But I couldn't form the words, and before I could, he planted a hard, clammy kiss on my forehead.

The curses weren't anger, I realized. They were relief. He pulled away quickly, like he was expecting me to shove him off the way I usually would if he did that.

Instead, I threw my arms around his neck.

He didn't hesitate for a second before he pulled me to his chest, like he'd been waiting for it.

I wasn't sure if it was how grateful I was or if I needed to rest or if I just needed a hug that badly, but I wrapped myself around him like I'd never let go. I was shaking hard enough to make waves in the water. My tears rolled over his shoulder, and he held me tight, murmuring into my ear in Russian. I couldn't understand a word, but it was the most soothing sound in the world. After a second, I felt him release the side of the boat and wrap his other arm around me. He was treading water to support both of us so he could hold me tighter, and all I could do was press my face into his neck with a silent
alive alive alive thank you I'm alive.

Elodie's voice echoed out over the water. “Stellan!” Then, more quietly to Colette, “Where
are
they? I swear, if they're not even here and we had to flirt with those disgusting men for no reason . . .”

“Here,” Stellan croaked. I unwrapped my legs from his waist, realizing what we'd look like, soaking wet and clinging to each other in the shadows. He didn't loosen his grip on me at all.

Two heads peered over the deck, silhouetted by the deck light. Elodie sniffed, and I could feel her raised eyebrows of scorn from here.

“Can you swim?” Stellan said quietly. I nodded, even though I didn't really want to let go. He kept an arm around me as we made our way back to the ladder.

Before we climbed up, I turned around one more time. Stellan's hair was slicked back, throwing the angles of his face into even higher relief. His T-shirt was ripped at the shoulder. I had to restrain myself from throwing my arms around him again, and he opened his mouth like he was about to say something.

Heavy footsteps sounded on the deck. I groped for Stellan again, ready to hide, but Jack's voice boomed out. “What's going on? Where's Avery?”

Stellan let me go like I was burning his hands, and Jack ran across the deck to pull me the rest of the way up.

• • •

I'd been in the plush terry-cloth robe for ten minutes, but I hadn't stopped shivering.

“At first they just said they had to search the boat,” Elodie was explaining. “It wasn't until we'd talked to them for a while that they told us there had been a vandalism incident at the temple and they'd gotten reports of the suspects being in this area.”

“They were actually police?” My fingernails were a sickly blue, and I tucked my hands under my legs. “It was all because of that brick?”

“It looks that way,” Elodie said. “But we thought they were—”

“So did we,” Stellan said. “And we almost drowned while you asked them which town has the best shellfish.” After they'd gotten us towels and robes, we'd settled in the lower cabin, where we couldn't be seen through the windows, just in case.

“What happened?” Colette leaned forward, her rosebud mouth a perfect circle of shock. She'd been flitting around the boat like an agitated bird, tucking extra blankets around my legs, trying to get me to eat, making a pot of tea, then another when I said I didn't like peppermint, even though I really didn't want anything at all. Now she was sitting next to Stellan, bandaging the scrape on his shoulder.

Stellan met my eyes across the table. I'd felt nothing but numb since we got out of the water, but I suddenly, fiercely wanted to keep what happened between us. I didn't want Elodie declaring that we'd finally found an excuse to make out. I didn't want Jack to be jealous and have to pretend he wasn't. I didn't want to try to describe what it was like to really, not-exaggerating almost die and have Stellan save my life in a manner so intimate, I actually felt embarrassed looking at him now.

Stellan's lips parted, and he looked away. “We didn't drown after all,” he said simply. He took the bandage from Colette and stood up. Her hands dropped to her lap and she started to get up after him, but he turned away without noticing. “And now I'm going to go take a really hot shower. Turns out the Mediterranean is still
vraiment
cold in June.”

Colette sat back down awkwardly, and I leaned back, only to realize I'd been tucked under Jack's warm arm the whole time. He wrapped me up in the blanket, pulling me to his chest, and I watched over his shoulder as Stellan disappeared down the hallway.