She came up laughing, her silver-streaked hair sleek as a seal, eyes shining. She had to splutter up seawater before she could speak. “Oh my Lord, that’s amazing!”
He let out his breath, his racing heart subsiding at her evident delight. “It pleases you?”
She threw herself at him in answer, wrapping arms and legs around his torso. In the water, they were the same height; she could kiss him freely, without him having to stoop down to her. He tasted sea and salt on her lips as she claimed him with fierce, unrestrained joy.
“Come on,” she said, releasing him at last. “Show me your world.”
Chapter 15
Martha had worried that her inner coyote would be panicked by the unnatural environment. She needn’t have feared. Her animal’s tail was wagging so hard, it made her own tailbone tingle.
Coyotes were tricksters at heart. And as far as her coyote was concerned, this was the greatest trick ever.
Chase those, her coyote urged as a brilliant shoal of tiny yellow fish swirled past. And those. And those!
Martha giggled at her animal’s enthusiasm, a stream of silver bubbles rising from her mouth. Succumbing to temptation, she flicked her flippered feet, propelling herself toward the nearest group of fish. They scattered at her approach, exploding in all directions like Fourth of July fireworks.
Better than pigeons! her coyote crowed. Oh, good mate, excellent mate, to lead us to such fine hunting grounds. Chase that one!
Martha firmly reined in her inner coyote before the fool animal had her panting after the poor fish like a dog chasing squirrels. She looked for Finn, and discovered him effortlessly keeping pace, a little above her. Though he was still in human form, he didn’t seem to be having any trouble breathing underwater either.
Did he make himself a pearl too?
She wanted to ask him, but only bubbles came out when she tried to speak. Catching his eye, she pointed at the locket he’d given her, then gestured at him in silent query.
He shook his head in answer, lifting his chin to show her the gills that had opened in his neck. His hands had become webbed, and his skin had taken on a steely cast, echoing his color in his full shark form. She’d heard of shifters who were able to do partial transformations, though she’d never seen one before.
Just as well he can. He’d beach himself if he shifted this close to shore.
But that meant that these sunlit, teeming waters weren’t where he truly belonged. Martha could have spent all day marveling at the jeweled fish—not to mention the crabs and urchins and other creatures she didn’t even have names for that were bumbling busily around the sea fl
oor—but they weren’t what she’d come here to see.
She wanted to know his true home.
She kicked her feet, heading farther out to sea. She wasn’t normally a strong swimmer, but now she soared through the water as easily as a bird through the sky. The saltwater tasted pure and sweet in her mouth, as natural as air. She was weightless. Free.
If this is what it’s like to be a shark, I don’t know how he can stand to come up onto land.
She’d been expecting the rippling sands of the sea floor to slowly drop away, but instead the transition from shallows to deep sea was sharp as a cliff. She hesitated at the edge of the drop-off, peering down. All she could see below was a murky, blue-green void, fading into blackness.
She took a deep breath, steeling herself—but Finn caught her hand before she could push out into that terrifying emptiness. Wait, he mouthed.
He dove into the abyss, barely seeming to need to move a muscle to propel himself through the water. Even though she knew he was perfectly safe, she couldn’t help her heart skipping a beat as he disappeared into the dark. More than ever, she wished that they were fully mated, so that they could speak mind-to-mind.
A shockwave of displaced water shook the sea, tumbling her head over heels. By the time she’d righted herself, his iron-gray form was rising back out of the depths.
Even though she’d seen him before, she still caught her breath in awe. He’d been big enough viewed from above, from the safety of the boat. Now that she was actually in the water with him, he seemed to fill the entire sea.
She had to dog-paddle madly to hold her position as he swept past, the currents from his passage tugging at her limbs. His mouth was barely open, but she could still have walked straight between those serried teeth without having to duck her head. If he opened his jaw fully, he could swallow the whole world.
He circled round, slowing as he returned, though he never quite came to a complete stop. He’d warned her that his type of shark needed to keep swimming in order to breathe. This time as he came past, she’d recovered enough presence of mind to swim out to him as they’d agreed.
She caught hold of his towering dorsal fin. Now she understood why he’d insisted she wear diving gloves—his hide was coarse as diamond-grit sandpaper. If she’d been bare-handed, just the slightest brush would have taken the skin off her palms.
Feeling rather like a tick hitching a ride on a bull, she nestled down against his back. She patted him to signal that she was ready.
The great muscles flexed underneath her. Even though she’d been braced for it, she still nearly fell clear off his back as he swept forward. She tightened her grip, water streaming through her hair.