Tempest Rising (16 page)

“You look amazing,” he whispered in my ear, his peppermint-scented breath hot against my neck.

“It’s the necklace.” I touched his present awkwardly—it had taken me half an hour to work up the nerve to actually wear it, but the look in Mark’s eyes when he’d seen it around my neck had made the stress worthwhile.

“It’s you. You’re beautiful.”

I laughed. “Did someone spike the punch?”

“I wish you could see yourself the way I see you.”

My mouth went desert dry. I swallowed convulsively, trying to find the words to say what needed to be said.

But in the end, I couldn’t, instead choking out, “What do you see?” as I turned my head so I could look at his face. His eyes were a lush, warm chocolate that reminded me of all the little things I would give up if I became mermaid.

Walks through the nearby park with its rich vegetation and nearly overwhelming smell of jasmine.

Hand-in-hand excursions with Mark through Balboa Park with its abundant flowers and awe-inspiring museums.

Fast rides on his motorcycle.

Hot kisses stretched across his bed.

Rolling in the grass in the summertime.

Football on the front lawn in the fall.

Christmas trees.

The way he looked at me first thing in the morning, on our surf runs at dawn.

“Everything.” His lips brushed over my temple, down my cheek to the dimple at the corner of my mouth that I’ve always hated but that he loved to play with. “I see the whole world when I look at you, Tempest.”

His mouth skimmed down my jaw, nibbled at the sensitive skin of my neck. “I see the future. My future.”

His words were an open, aching wound inside me, yet I immersed myself in them anyway. Immersed myself in the husky rasp of his voice as he continued to whisper to me. Immersed myself in the fresh, clean scent of him as he surrounded me from all sides.

Was it selfish? Yes. Hurtful? I hoped not. As necessary to me as breathing? Absolutely. I wanted this moment, needed it, with a desperation that bordered on the insane.

Closing my eyes, I cuddled back against him and gave myself to the music. To him—even if it was just for a little while.

Song after song played, from Nickelback to Muse to Coldplay, and still I stayed in Mark’s arms. He was everything real and familiar and comfortable, but sexy too, and I found myself wishing these moments could go on forever. His arms just felt right around me.
He
felt right and as he held me the fact and fantasy of my life had never seemed so far from each other.

At least until there was a break in the music.

Opening my eyes slowly, reluctantly, my gaze collided with
his
. As it did, I could swear I felt the ground tremble beneath my feet.

My knees buckled and I probably would have fallen if Mark hadn’t been holding me. But I could no longer feel his arms around me, no longer feel his breath against my neck.

All I knew was Kona’s burning stare, his eyes dark as the stormy sea where I had first seen him as he glared at me in Mark’s arms. I don’t know if he was still mad at how I’d ignored him that morning, or if he didn’t like the way I was currently wrapped around Mark. Either way, it was obvious he was angry. My already shaky confidence plummeted to my toes as my heart skipped a beat. Two.

Kona’s jaw was tight, his fists clenched, and for a moment I thought, maybe …

I don’t know what I thought, what I was thinking, as my world crashed down around my head. Only that in those moments, everything vanished. The house, the party, my friends, my father. Even Mark. They were all gone and then it was just Kona and me and the crazy, mixed-up emotions that throbbed between us. There was certainly nothing comfortable about him—or what I felt for him. Not like it was with Mark.

I don’t know how long we stayed like that—how long we
would
have stayed like that—but reality crept in with a new song on the stereo. The murmur of voices. A high-pitched giggle from Bri.

I knew the exact moment Mark noticed Kona—and realized that he was staring at me with a mixture of rage and longing. Mark’s body tensed against mine, his biceps turning hard and tight where they rested outside my own. His hands, which had been holding mine so gently, tightened to the point of pain.

Normally I would call him on his jealousy, tell him how ridiculous he was being. But this time I couldn’t, not after I’d betrayed him by kissing Kona. I couldn’t help wondering how I was stupid enough to invite Kona to my party. It didn’t take a genius to figure out this would probably happen.

I winced at the thought, then regretted the involuntary action as I saw Kona react to it. His eyes, already stormy, turned the molten platinum of a hurricane-tossed sea as he started across the room toward us.

He was spoiling for a fight, and as Mark shifted in front of me, I was terrified that Kona was going to get it.

I’m not this girl
, I thought frantically, attempting to put myself between them. I wasn’t a tease who played two guys against each other just to see how far they would go.

“Stop it, Mark,” I hissed, wrapping my hands around his arm and trying to tug him out of the path of Hurricane Kona. But Mark was suddenly as immovable as an island. I flashed back to every ocean storm I’d ever heard about on the news, remembering how hurricanes devastated the land masses that got in their way.

Against anyone else, Mark could more than hold his own—he hadn’t gotten his bad-boy reputation for nothing. But with Kona … I just didn’t know. And I didn’t want to find out—I couldn’t stand the idea of either being hurt because of me.

“Mark, don’t ruin my party. Come on, just ignore him.”

“How can I ignore him when he’s coming straight at us?”

“You’re the one who introduced the two of us. He probably just wants to say hello.”

“Yeah, well, when I introduced you, I didn’t expect him to make a play for you.” If possible, Mark’s stance grew even more aggressive.

I glanced around for help, figuring the entire party was watching, waiting for the fireworks to explode in the middle of my living room. But to my shock, no one was paying attention. They were all too busy talking and dancing and laughing to notice that the two sides of my world were about to collide.

What should I do, what should I do, what should I do?
The words spun through my brain in a mantra of distress as Kona finally succeeded in negotiating his way through the crush of bodies.

“What are you doing here?” Mark demanded in the most abrasive tone I had ever heard him use.

“Tempest invited me.”

Mark’s fist clenched at Kona’s words and I held on to his arm as tightly as I could, ignoring Mark’s attempts to pull away from me. Though Kona was talking to him, Kona was still looking at me, which I knew was sending Mark’s anger soaring into the stratosphere.

“Yeah, well, I’m uninviting you. Leave.”

The arrogance in Mark’s statement got my back up—this was my party and he didn’t have the right to uninvite anyone. Part of me wanted to tell him to lay off the macho-man act, but I couldn’t—not then. Not without giving Mark, and Kona, the excuse for the fight both looked ready to throw down.

Kona leisurely shifted his gaze from my face to Mark’s and the change that came over him astounded me. And scared me, a little. Gone was any trace of warmth, and in its place was a shocking iciness. Days before, on the beach—before Mark had “introduced” us—they’d seemed like friends. But looking at them now, it was as if the ease of their earlier relationship had never existed.

“I don’t think you get to make that choice.”

Mark bristled. “That’s where you’re wrong.”

“Am I?” Kona raised one sardonic brow as he turned to me. “Tempest?”

I knew what he was asking, but what was I supposed to say? Anything that came out of my mouth was going to sound like I was taking sides. If I let him stay, Mark would be furious enough to take a swing at him. If I asked him to go, I might never see him again. How many rejections could a guy be expected to take, after all?

Pain radiated through me at the thought of either occurrence—not my first clue that I was in serious trouble, but definitely my most powerful one. Which left me in even more of a quandary: what was I supposed to do when it was becoming abundantly clear that I cared for both of them?

“Don’t talk to her.” Mark shoved him, hard, but Kona didn’t so much as flinch. “Talk to me.”

Even with violence looming, the chauvinism in that remark was too much for me to let pass. “Excuse me?”

“Not now, Tempest.”

“Definitely now, Mark.” I knew I was only making things worse, but I couldn’t help it. No way was I going to stand here and be dismissed—especially not when they were making me the rope in their little game of tug-of-war. “You don’t get to decide who talks to me.”

He turned incredulous brown eyes to me. “You want to hang out with this guy?”

“That’s not the point.”

“I’d say that was exactly the point,” Kona interjected helpfully.

“You stay out of this.” I turned on him, suddenly furious with both of them.

“I’m not sure I can do that, Tempest,” he answered, leaning closer to me in a deliberate attempt to provoke Mark.

“Stop it.” I reached out, slapped a palm on his chest to push him back. But as soon as I touched him I felt a jolt of electricity race up my arm, and under my horrified stare, Kona stumbled back a good five or six feet.

For a minute I couldn’t register what had happened. I was too busy paying attention to the sizzle of power winding its way through my bloodstream. It was an adrenaline cocktail to my nervous system, a shock of energy straight to my heart and every muscle in my body.

I could feel it inside me, a turmoil of current reshaping who I was into what I would become.

At first I was too astounded to do anything but stare, but eventually one thought registered above all others: Mark had shoved Kona as hard as he could and he hadn’t moved him so much as an inch. All I’d done was touch him and he was halfway across my living room.

“Kona?” I called his name in a trembling whisper that sounded more like a scared little girl’s than a self-assured woman’s, but at the moment it was the best I could do.

“It’s okay, Tempest,” he answered, walking back toward me.

But it wasn’t okay—I could see it in the way Mark was looking at me, as if I had, indeed, just grown that tail I’d been so worried about earlier. And when I followed his horrified gaze, I could see why. This time I was the one who was glowing.

And not just that wimpy, is-he-or-isn’t-he kind of glow Kona had emitted that day at the beach. No, nothing that sedate for me. I was sending out enough wattage to light up a small village—or a nuclear power plant.

As Kona reached for me and Mark stumbled out of range, I did the only thing I could think of doing. I fled.

PART THREE

H
itting the
T
ip

“The voice of the sea speaks to the soul.”

—K
ATE
C
HOPIN

Chapter 13

I ran until my calves ached.

Until my lungs shuddered.

Until my heart felt like it was going to explode.

And then I ran some more, kicking up sand with every footfall as I wound my way down the long stretch of empty beach.

Finally, when my vision had blurred and my pulse was pounding in my head, I collapsed onto the soft, loose sand and tried to get control of my emotions—and my unruly body.

At least I wasn’t glowing anymore. That had to be a plus, right?

Still, I had fled from my own birthday party. Not that I’d had much of a choice—I mean, what was I supposed to say when people noticed my little problem? That I’d fallen into a vat of toxic waste earlier in the day and this was just a fun little side effect? Myth was one thing, but this whole mermaid experience, and me along with it, was beginning to fall into comic-book realm. I didn’t like it. At all.

The wind picked up, whipping around me, playing with my hair and making me shiver. I ignored it, concentrating instead on trying to figure out what to do.

How could you have left me like this, Mom? How could you be somewhere else when I need you so badly?

It was stupid, but I concentrated on the question really hard, hoping against all logic and reason that she would somehow hear it. That she would somehow feel my distress and come home, like she’d promised to do so long ago.

How could you just leave me alone to deal with this?
I demanded.
It’s not like your letter was a freaking instruction manual.

I need you, Mom. I need you.

I waited, eyes squeezed shut for what seemed like forever. But there was no answer.