Children of the Sea 02 - Sea Fever

me?”
     
    Another moment of silence. “It doesn’t matter.”
     
    He sounded like her mother. Her dreams of her mother. But maybe that didn’t matter either.
     
    “Regina.” His tone was sharper now.
     
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    Her arms were tight around his waist, absorbing his warmth. “Mm?”
     
    “We need to go. You need to hold on to me.”
     
    He was so warm. If he were a figment of her imagination, would he feel so warm?
     
    “Am holding you,” she slurred.
     
    “Not like that.” He broke the circle of her arms, makingher murmur in protest, her body bereft at the loss of his heat.
     
    She heard splashing and then he thrust something into her hand.
    Wet, soft, flowing . . .
     
    Seaweed? She pulled her hand away.
     
    He caught her wrist; forced it back to the thing between them.
     
    Her fingers splayed. Flexed. “What . . . ?”
     
    “A sealskin. I need it to take you through the tunnel.” She stroked the wet fur. She could not feel an end to it in the dark.
     
    “— go underwater,” he was saying. “Not a long way, but it will be quicker if I Change. Can you hold on?”
     
    Her limbs felt too heavy to move. Her fingers were fat and numb.
    Regina took a deep breath and thought of Nick. Hold on. She just had to hold on a little longer.
     
    She nodded, forgetting Dylan couldn’t see her in the dark.
     
    “Good girl,” he said, taking her cooperation for granted. “This way.”
     
    He put his arm around her waist to lead her forward. And maybe he could see after all, she thought dazedly, because he guided her without any trouble deeper and deeper into water up to her breasts. Up to her neck. She began to shake against his arm, hard, deep tremors that hurt her bones. She was so cold now that the water felt warmer than the air, but she felt its pressure in her chest as if she were already underwater. Her womb contracted. He was taking her into the water. Under the water. She couldn’t breathe.
     
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    She stopped, her hands curling protectively over her stomach.
     
    “It’s all right,” Dylan said.
     
    “I’m not . . .” But she was afraid. Horribly afraid. “The baby.”
     
    “Baby,” he said without inflection.
     
    She didn’t, couldn’t, answer him. She stood there, her teeth chattering, shaking like a dog in the dark.
     
    He turned her into his body. His fingers stroked her cheek. He cupped her face in his hands. Was he going to kiss her? Now? Why not?
    She wanted him to. Either he was here— the only man who had ever showed up when she needed him— or she was dreaming. Let him kiss her before the water took her.
     
    His breath skated over her eyelids, over her lips, hot, drugging, salty sweet. She stood a little on tiptoe, wanting to be closer to him, but he slipped away. She felt the sealskin again, in the water between them, moving with the current, heavy against her legs.
     
    “Hold on,” he said.
     
    And then he was gone.
     
    She cried out in shock and loss, reaching for him, stretching her arms through the black water. The sealskin flowed under her hands, thick, soft, fluid. Her fingers curled reflexively. Hold on. His voice? Hers?
     
    The pelt rolled with the water, assuming weight and form, muscle and mass. Her hands dug deeper in its folds. It was huge. Warm. Pulsing with life. The sleek fur glided under and against her like a dog nudging for attention. A really big dog. She caught her breath at the feel of the solid body under her hands, and it pulled her off her feet and under the water.
     
    A confused rush filled her ears, filled her head. She couldn’t think.
    She barely had time to be afraid. She was weightless, warm, buoyed up and supported by the powerfulbody surging under hers, by the water streaming and bubbling over and around her. Her mind churned. Her grip
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    tightened. The darkness grew gray and then gold and then erupted in dazzling light.
     
    Sunset spilled over the rocks, and Regina sprawled beached on a block of granite with the day going down in banners of pink and gold on the horizon and a massive thing . . . shape . . . warm, black, sleek . . .
    beside her. She blinked. Gasped. Raised her head. Pushed up on her elbows.
     
    A violent fit of coughing seized her. Helpless, she heaved, spasms squeezing her chest. Her head exploded. Her lungs rattled. Tears leaked from her eyes.
     
    When she forced her lids open again, Dylan knelt naked at her side, and the sealskin lay empty on the rocks.
     
    She passed out.
     
    *
     
    “You