Ripples (DROPLETS Trilogy Book 2) (12 page)

     “I thought you might want to learn how to drive,” I shrugged my shoulders, “but only if you want to.”

     The glare subsided from his dark gaze and he stared at me again with that wearied look I couldn’t name. It was as though he didn’t understand me; I was something totally foreign to him.
Well, that makes two of us.

     “All right,” I said. “Let’s switch places.”  I hopped out of the car and Zale followed my lead by doing the same. We passed each other and then sat back down in the cab.

     I began to point things out to him and once I had gone through the instructions, he nodded his head and turned the truck on and revved the engine. A small half smile crept across his face and I stared at it for moment. It was the very first time I had ever seen Zale smile for real. The transformation was immediate. A lightness lifted his face, not as light as I used to remember it, but closer than I’d ever seen before.

     I was quickly jerked from my thoughts when Zale put the truck in gear. I shouted for him to stop, but he continued to pick up speed, changing gears with perfect ease. We sped to the end of the parking lot, my eyes widened as I saw the curb approaching quickly and the needle on the speedometer continuing to move up.

     “Zale, slow down!” I yelled, and braced myself with the door handle. He shifted down easily and made an expert turn and took off in the other direction. I gripped the door handle harder, realizing too late that this might not have been such a good idea.

     He hit sixty on the next trip and hardly slowed down for the turn, and then we hit eighty on the way back I found myself smiling again. I knew I should have been screaming, yelling at him to stop or angry with him for not listening to me, but the need to feel adrenaline surging through my veins was stronger than any logical thought.

    We were flying across the pavement with the curb approaching quickly when he suddenly slammed on the brakes and the truck fishtailed around with a loud squeal. We came to a rocking halt and my heart was pounding loudly in my chest and the thrill of it all filled my eyes. It took me a long time to find my breath, but when I did, I voiced my opinion.

     “That was, interesting,” I said and chuckled as I stared out the windshield. He turned to his head in my direction and I noted the same rush in his eyes that was in my own. The slightest hint of amusement played around his lips.

     “Again?” He asked and lifted an eyebrow. As much as I was tempted, reason won out.

     “I think that was enough for today,” I said. “Switch places with me, I’ll drive back.”

     “No,” he shook his head.

     “Yes,” I said and almost laughed, but thought better of it. “You’re going to get us killed.” I spoke with authority even though I knew it was the thrill of danger that had made it all so exciting to me.

     “No,” he said again, but this time it was a challenge and one that I rose too.

     “You don’t know where we’re going,” I pointed out and he scoffed. “Just switch places with me.”

     A full smile spread across his face this time. “Make me,” he said and revved the engine again.

     I closed my eyes as we shot out of the parking lot back toward Coveside, wondering what I had gotten myself into even though the adrenaline returned to my veins and I reveled in its existence.  

We were flying down roads breaking all traffic laws, and I was frantic we would get caught. Zale wasn’t the least bit concerned and only slowed down slightly, when he saw another car. I relaxed momentarily and tried to dispel the disappointment filling me as the needle on the speedometer dropped. For the moment, the thrill caused by our speed dissipated.

     I glanced over at the figure beside me, completely amazed at how normal he looked. He had one hand on the steering wheel, the other resting on his leg. He wasn’t smiling, but his eyes weren’t so fierce and that’s how I knew he was enjoying himself. His brow was creased as though he were thinking deeply about something, I hoped it was about where he was going, but had reason to think it wasn’t. Just then he turned expertly, zipping around a corner, and I gripped my seat to stay in place.

     “Is there somewhere private we can go?” He asked, his voice always surprising me with its deep baritone.

     “What do you mean?” I asked

     “I want to teach you something. Is there somewhere we can go that would have a lot of space but out of general view?” He spoke conversationally and I realized it was the most words I’d ever heard him speak calmly. Maybe if we got in trouble, this would make it worth it.
Probably not
.

     “Umm,” I said and bit my lip trying to think of a place similar to the one he’d suggested. “There’s always the beach. I know of a place that would be out of the way and no one would be able to see us.” I raised my eyebrows and turned my face to his.

     “That would work. How do we get there?”

     “Will you let me drive?” I challenged.

     The half-smile reappeared, “Not a chance.”

     “Fine,” I consented. “Just head back toward my house and then we can walk to it from there.” In my mind I was thinking of the place where Morven had taken me the night he had shown up in Coveside. I knew a path that led to it from my house, it was convenient because the walk was shorter and private. Before Zale had shown up, I would often go there to relax and think of Patrick. The sound of the ocean and the feel of the sand brought the memories back easier than just thinking about him.

     Zale made it back to my house without any help; apparently he had a very good sense of direction. Once we reached the top of the driveway at an alarming speed, he parked the car and unlocked the doors. I hopped out and he followed my lead.

     My boots hit the frozen ground and the wind rippled the hair that had fallen out of my bun. I pulled the band out of my hair and let all of it blow in the wind, only to notice his moved similar to mine. In the same way he no longer remembered himself, his body was no longer human.

     “This way,” I said, walking around the house to the opposite side and he followed me, moving with very little sound.

     We trudged down the winding path, still laden with slick snow. My steps were cautious, unsure, a few times I almost did slip but I caught myself just in time. I thought I heard him heave a sigh once, but I decided not to say anything about it.

     The slope ended and we continued to walk straight toward the coast; my feet loudly crunching against the new fallen snow. Finally, we reached the beach and turned left with the ocean to our right. The sand was a mix of light brown with speckled white flecks of snow and it was odd to walk on. One moment my foot would fall stiff on a patch of icy snow, and the next it would squish in the soft sand.

     I saw the massive rocks that would create a sort of barrier for privacy, up ahead. We reached them quickly and I stopped after making my way around to the other side.

     “How’s this?” I lifted my arms and gestured at the open space.

     “Fine,” he shrugged and then walked around, his eyes searching the area. I went to his side.

     “What are you looking for?” I asked and he didn’t answer, so I stayed silent and looked around. There was nothing on the ground anywhere, but he wasn’t looking near us. He was scanning the beach for something.

     “Wait here,” he said and strode off. I watched as he went about a hundred yards down the shore. He stopped next to a rather large log and picked it up as though it hardly weighed anything.

     He came back to me quickly and propped the old withered log against the rock wall that created a barrier from the harbor. I wondered what he was doing, when he pulled a knife out from his belt and marked the log at exactly his height.

     “This is the head,” he made an ‘x’ in the wood. “The chest,” a big square mark in the middle, “the waist, and the legs.” He turned toward me and walked to my side. I stood  not knowing what he wanted me to do.

     “Get out your dagger,” he said impatiently, as though I were a child.

     I did as I was told and stood there uncertainly with the weapon  in my hand. I slipped the hunting knife out of its sheath and let the leather case drop to the ground.

     “Now,” he said, his eyes intense. “I want you to hit that target in the chest.”

     I wasn’t nervous at all, if there was one thing I knew how to do, it was this. I had practiced throwing blades with Elik and had proved my expertise. It was only when faced with an actual threat, a living, breathing target, I grew fearful.

     Shrugging, I lifted the dagger over my shoulder so the tip pointed behind me. Then I stepped forward and launched the knife at the log. It toppled perfectly blade over handle, blade over handle until it landed with a sharp thunk into the wood marked with the square. It was an excellent throw, one of my better ones.
Right in the chest
. 

     I glanced up at Zale, to see what he thought, but he simply walked forward to grab the knife. He pulled it out easily and came back to my side.

     “Try it again, but from farther away.” I backed up about twenty-five yards and again threw the blade. Once again it hit dead on. I continued from this distance for another four throws, each better than the previous, until he finally spoke.

      “Do you know how to throw it any other way?” he asked, having walked back from retrieving the dagger again.

     “No,” I said confused. “I didn’t know there was another way.”

     “May I?” He asked, lifting the dagger to indicate his intention. I nodded quickly and watched him.

     He turned slightly so his left shoulder was the closest part of his body to the log. He lifted the knife with his right hand, but instead of raising it above his shoulder he held it out next to his side with his wrist cocked backwards. Then with a quick side step that moved him forward, he whipped the blade with a flick and sent it sideways at the log. It slid into the wood with a sickening sound and I realized where he had aimed. The blade was stuck in the wood, just below the head and above the chest. It was a fatal throw, meant to either slice the throat or decapitate. A shiver ran down my spine.

     Zale walked forward again and retrieved the dagger. “Now, it’s your turn.”

     My eyes widened and I shook my head. “I can’t do that.”

     “Yes, you can.” He contradicted me. “We’ll start closer and then work our way back.”

     “No,” I shook my head.  “I mean I won’t ever be able to throw a knife like that at someone. It could kill them instantly.” I shuddered as I pictured myself decapitating a merman with a dagger.

     “So you would rather have them suffer, in terrible pain, from the throw you showed me before?” He raised one eyebrow, taunting me. “No, I think you’ll find when you’re in danger, you won’t care what means you use to get yourself out of trouble, and you, Lissie, are in danger.”

     “Fine,” I snapped and took the blade from his hand. My fingers brushed his and I realized it was the first time I had touched him on my own accord. Well, the first time since the dungeon. Shaking my head of that thought, I lifted my eyes to the log.

     I mimicked his earlier stance by placing my left leg slightly in front of the rest of my body and my shoulders turned at an angle. My hand rose on its own and I cocked my wrist. Then with a surge of energy, I took a quick step forward and whipped the blade at the log. It was a perfect shot until it reached the dead tree. My timing had been off; the back of the handle hit the wood with a resounding thwack and fell to the sand, as if dead. I grimaced and walked forward to pick up the knife, ducking my head to hide my embarrassment.

     I tried to throw the dagger again and had the same result. After having done this multiple times, I took a half step back thinking it would leave enough time for the blade to circle around again, only the same thing happened. I was getting frustrated and with each throw, Zale grew more amused. My self confidence in my throwing was dwindling and I was angry that he was standing there watching. 

     “Here,” he said once I had come back from retrieving the dagger after another unsuccessful attempt. I thought he wanted to show me again and stuck the blade out, offering it to him.

     “No,” he said and shook his head. “Get set up.”

     I turned and stood with the knife cocked and waited. He stepped in close to me and I was very conscious of the fact that my back was barely an inch away from his chest. I could hear his every breath close to my ear and tensed slightly.

     “You see this,” he placed his palm over the hand that was holding the dagger. “Your muscles are too tight, you have to relax.”

     I tried to do what he was telling me, but I was so uncomfortable, I couldn’t get myself to do as he said. I took a deep breath and closed my eyes.

     “See, like this,” he covered my entire hand with his and held it in a firm grasp that was somehow light. I wondered how he did that. “If your hand was the knife then I still have a firm grasp on it, and it won’t fall from my hand. But my muscles are relaxed. If you’re tense the blade can go off course, but if you relax, it will go where you want it to.” I nodded at his words. “Now you do that, relax your hand around the handle.”

     Opening my eyes, I concentrated hard on what he was telling me and somehow the knife became weightless in my fingers. It was as though I didn’t have to use any strength to hold it up. I took a deep breath and then lunged forward, while snapping the blade. It spun perfectly and landed in the exact groove Zale had made when he had first shown me. I smiled and looked at him. He nodded, but gave no other sign as to my accomplishment. I ran forward to retrieve the dagger.

     Over and over again, I practiced the same throw until I felt I had mastered it. My arm was growing tired, but I didn’t stop. This was the first time I had truly enjoyed myself in a while. It was the same rush my runs provided, or the thrill I had felt in the truck while Zale drove. All of it was an exciting reminder of the dangers in the world I used to belong to and it was intoxicating. But this was even more of an addiction. Movement was a means of coping with the pent up energy, but throwing the knife was a way to take away the fear. For just a moment, I could focus on the target and pretend it was my enemy. I could use what little strength I had to fight against the merman who had taken away the man I loved, and for once, I was able to do something about it. I was able to fight back.

     Hours later, as my arm grew tired, Zale spoke and startled me. He hadn’t said anything since showing me how to throw.

     “We should probably head back to your house.”

     I made an annoyed face but then really looked around and saw it was getting late, well past mid-day.

     “Don’t you have work?” he asked.

     “Yeah,” I said, and wished I didn’t.

     My stomach grumbled slightly and I realized how hungry I was, we had stayed out here right through lunch. I felt bad, wondering if he was hungry too.

     I threw the dagger one more time and it sliced into the wood perfectly. Zale strode forward to pull the knife from the log and handed it to me.

     “Thanks,” I said and slid the sheath back on it. Standing to the side, I watched Zale tip the log over so the wood with all the marks was in the sand, while I put my dagger back under my shirt.

     “You need to find a better place to put that. You’d be dead before you ever had the chance to pull it out,” he said straightening back up.

     “I do have to act human sometimes,” I countered.  “Where else can I keep it?”

     With a sigh, he reached under the sleeve of his jacket and pulled out an arm sheath. He pulled the knife out from the worn leather and handed the empty wrist band to me. “Here,” he said and I saw he would say no more about it while we walked in silence. My fingers played with the leather all the way back along the small path and when I strapped it around my wrist to slide the weapon in place, I had the sudden feeling of at once being protected and more open for attack than ever before. 

_______________

Later that night, having a distracted mind worked in my favor during my shift. I served, took orders, and refilled drinks with a new lightness in my step. Although my thoughts were miles away, I was moving faster than I had since my return and in response, so did the time. All the while, I couldn’t stop thinking about the beach and wanted to practice throwing my knife again. It was fun, and addicting, but more than anything it gave me a sense of security.