9. Moss

9

Moss

The ocean was calling to him. Pretty nice, for a dream. Usually these days he got chased by that big crab from Moana , or sank into a hot bath only to realize too late that he was relaxing in a sink of dirty dishes.

Nothing like this.

He felt completely at ease. Comfortable. At home. The ocean's song swirled around him, whispering to him about everything the salt could taste: the ripple-hush of gentle waves on sand, the shellfish loosening their grips on the rocks as the storm became a distant memory, the anemones stretching out their tentacles, waiting for something to flicker past…

Sharp claws skittering on a rock, dancing out of reach of the lapping seawater.

"Pree! Pree pree pree!"

He jolted awake. Carol was already stumbling towards the mouth of the cave, and the events of the past day rolled over him. He couldn't breathe.

He'd lost his octopus. Found his mate. Become host to the monster that haunted sailors' nightmares. And now—

"Maggie?" Carol called, anxiety edging her voice.

"Pree!"

The baby dragon. Moss stood, and for one mind-lurching moment, it was as though the ocean rose with him.

He blinked. And he must have been imagining things, still half-asleep, because the narrow cave and the strip of beach visible outside hadn't been swamped by the ocean rearing up like an eager puppy. Thank fuck.

Carol was already running down the beach. He caught up with her in a few long strides, his senses straining ahead to find what she'd already seen.

"Pree! Pree pree!"

"It's okay, Maggie! I'm coming! Stay where you are!"

Maggie was standing on a rock a few meters into the water. Gentle waves pattered at her claws, and she skittered away from them, panic crackling from her mind. Moss recognized the splintered-glass feel of the little dragon's fear from the storm—he'd confused it with Carol's overflowing emotions and his own confusion about the kraken then, but there was no mistaking it now.

* Don't be afraid. We won't let anything hurt you,* he sent to the dragonling, layering his thoughts with as much reassurance as he could manage.

Bright gold eyes met his, fizzing with fear and intelligence. "Pree-ee-ee?!"

Something curled in her thoughts, a memory of a dark, shadowy tendril. His blood chilled.

Carol didn't hesitate. She splashed out to the rock and scooped Maggie into her arms. "There. I've got you. What were you doing all the way out here?"

A confusion of images battered Moss's mind. From the way Carol blinked and swayed slightly, she was experiencing the same.

Carol tucked the little dragon under her chin, making gentle shushing noises. Maggie wrapped herself so tightly around her that Moss winced in sympathy. Those claws weren't just for show.

"She's scared of the water?" Moss asked.

"Wouldn't you be, after last night? Ouch. Claws, Maggie. Please?"

"Pree- oo. " Maggie's dismissal washed over him, a crashing wave full of popping candy. He got the message: she wasn't scared of anything. But she climbed right up onto Carol's shoulders and clung there, glaring suspiciously down at the water as Carol walked back up to dry land.

"I get it," she was whispering, her eyes on the tiny dragon. "The sea scares me sometimes, too."

"Ee-oo?" Maggie bared her teeth questioningly. Carol looked like she didn't know whether to bite back a sigh or laugh.

"You can't bite the ocean, Maggie. Sorry. Well, you can, but it won't notice."

" Eee ???!!!!"

"What were you even doing out here?" She tensed. "Did you hear someone? Sense someone out here? Was it—"

She broke off. Moss was already scanning the sky and horizon. Empty blue stretched wide above them, barely marked by a few scudding clouds—and the horizon was clear in all directions. Nothing but ocean, reflecting that gleaming blue.

"No sign of the shifters who attacked you last night," he said out loud, then looked across at Carol and realized she hadn't been talking about the enemy. "Your friends," he blurted out. "Shit, I'm sorry, I didn't think."

She shook her head sharply, her eyes averted. "They'll be fine. I'm sure they're fine. We just need to get off this rock and regroup, and… everything will be fine."

Shadows gathered at the edges of his mind. The thought came to him so quickly and quietly, he wasn't sure whether it was his own or the kraken speaking in a whisper small enough for his human mind to hear.

Why not find them yourself?

He could help her. His strange new ability to hear the ocean's song—he might be able to use it to search for her friends. If the ocean knew where they were, the way it knew all the sea creatures it had sung to him about as he woke up, then—

Then they're probably dead. A cold lump settled in his stomach. The only way the ocean would be able to find Carol's friends was if the plane had sunk.

The kraken withdrew into the depths of his mind. Yeah. I thought so.

"We figure out where we are, and then we figure out how to get somewhere else," he said out loud. "Sounds close enough to a plan for me."

"When I write up my report, I'll make it sound like we thought things through slightly more than that." Carol grinned up at him.

And the world stopped spinning.

The whole time she'd been rescuing Maggie, Carol had kept her face averted. Looking at Maggie, or the sky, or the water, but never at him. But now her face was upturned to his, like a flower seeking out the sun, and he was caught. A moth to her flame, again.

She was still stuck in her shift. Her eyes were the glossy black of wet stone. Shark's eyes, the eyes of something looming out of the murk when you've dived too deep and too far from the shore to escape. A shiver of anticipation raced across his skin.

And that was before he saw her teeth. Razor-sharp and triangular, gleaming in a grin that was brighter than the sun. What would it be like to feel those teeth sliding over his skin, hidden behind soft lips or bared, dangerous and tantalizing and all for him?

He'd never wanted anyone so badly. He wanted to fall at her feet. Bury his face between her legs. Swim with her into the dark and the deep, too far from shore.

"Carol," he began, with no idea how to go on, his voice a hollow, broken husk.

And her smile faltered.