Sea Haven 01 - Water Bound

long slow breath of air that gave away her agitation.
    “What time is it?” she asked. “I have to clean things up.”
    “Nearly four. What you need to do is to lie down and rest.”
    She mumbled something incoherent under her breath and went out of the room. He could hear her mopping the floor in the kitchen. It occurred to him that this wasn’t the first—or last—time she’d done this. So fires were a recurring nightmare. And she feared someone would start one. She was barefoot and he’d seen the burn scars on her feet when he carried her—his mind was already cataloging each whorl and ridge.
    He sighed and brushed his hand over his face, and then just sat on the edge of the bed, rubbing his palm with his thumb thoughtfully while the rain beat on the roof and she scrubbed her floor in the kitchen. Those burns were no accident, then. It was no wonder she worked under the water. It was where she felt safe. Her legs and feet probably hurt when she walked on land, but in the water she was more fluid. He knew the scars would make her skin feel tight and stretched, so walking could be painful.
    Mapping the scars in his mind, he traced the pattern in the air and pushed warm healing energy toward the air sketches. As a rule, healing had to be done when a wound occurred, not months—or years—after. But sometimes, if one worked at it, they could ease the scarring. He pressed his fingertips to his temples. If he could remember that, why couldn’t he 79

    remember why the hell every memory seemed to be surrounded with violence?
    He knew he could take apart his guns and put them back together in seconds because he’d already tried it, the moment she’d gone outside.
    He’d needed to clean his guns. He knew what ammo he needed for each weapon. He knew he could pull a knife, turn and throw, and hit his intended target with exact accuracy. When he saw someone, he saw targets on them and knew immediately where to strike to kill them if needed. His mind was like a computer, analyzing all the time, choosing kill spots. Did other people live that way?
    “Lev?” She stood in the hall looking at him, a worried frown on her face. “Do you need more aspirin? I don’t keep anything else in the house.”
    “No. I’m fine. I was trying to remember something— anything —that might tell me I’m a much better man than I think I am.”
    She sent him a small, crooked smile. It was almost reluctant, as if she didn’t really know how to smile. “I think that tells you you’re a better man than you think you are.” She looked back at the kitchen and then glanced toward the bathroom. “I’m sorry about the mess. It happens sometimes when I have nightmares. My guest bathroom was really flooded.”
    “Because you dream about fires.”
    She nodded slowly, her dark eyebrows drawn together. He liked the shape of her eyebrows, the way they emphasized her eyes and those incredibly long lashes.
    “Are you afraid you start the fires while you sleep?”
    Her gasp was audible. Her eyes widened in alarm. She actually took a step back from him and nearly dropped the mop.
    “It isn’t that difficult to figure out, Rikki. You’re afraid to sleep in the house with me in it. You call to water when you do sleep. You have burns on your feet. And the house on fire in your dream was this house. You’re scared you’re the one causing the fires.”
    She swallowed hard, but her gaze didn’t waver. “It’s possible. Maybe even probable. My parents died in a fire. Two foster homes I lived in burned down, and then I lived in a state-run facility until I turned eighteen. I thought it was over until . . . I met someone. A few years ago, my fiancé died in a fire. That’s four fires, two that killed people.”
    He saw past the belligerence to the real terror permeating her entire life.
    “Rikki. It would be impossible for you to start the fires, awake or asleep.
    You couldn’t do it.”
    Rikki’s frown deepened. “That’s exactly what Lissa said. Exactly. With the same absolute conviction. How could either of you know that when I 80

    don’t even know it?” She rubbed her palm down her thigh in agitation right along the path of the shimmering raindrop tattoo dripping down her leg, drawing his attention to it even though it was hidden. “I can’t take the chance on your life, and you shouldn’t want to either.”
    “It’s obvious you’re a water element. You’re bound to water. You can’t start fires. You can only put