Dark Water: A Siren Novel (21 page)

“It’s a black Audi,” Simon announced. “Your realtor.”

I stood, heart pounding, relieved for a reason to look away from the computer.

“Were you expecting her?” he asked.

“No, but that doesn’t mean anything. She’s probably just dropping something off for another showing.” I kissed his cheek as I opened the door. “I’ll be fine, but feel free to watch from here.”

“Thank you. I will.”

The Audi’s hatchback was raised as I approached. It wasn’t until it closed that I realized Anne wasn’t behind it—Colin was.

“Vanessa, hey.” He grinned. “I didn’t know you’d be here.”

“Yeah.” I glanced back, waved to Simon. “My friends and I were just having one last dinner. You know, reminiscing and stuff. We didn’t tell my parents because we figured they’d tell us to stay out.”

“Totally understand and I won’t say a word.” He held up a long ceramic planter filled with flowers. “My mom asked me to drop this off. Thought it’d help with curb appeal.”

“Sounds good. Put it anywhere you’d like.”

Where he liked, unfortunately, was on the front stoop, where Simon now stood. After introducing himself to Simon, who shook his hand cautiously, Colin peered into the living room.

“Is that …?” Colin’s voice trailed off as he looked at Simon, then at me. “Sorry, can I just see something?”

“I don’t know if—”

“Sure,” I said, interrupting Simon. I understood his concern, but Colin seemed harmless enough. Plus, I wanted to keep him happy so he wouldn’t be tempted to spill the beans about our late-night gathering spot—or mention anything about what happened between us on the beach a week ago.

“It’s okay,” I said, after Colin entered the house and I passed Simon. “He’ll be in and out.”

“Is that the new MacBook Pro? It is, isn’t it?”

Simon and I reached the living room right as Caleb slammed the laptop shut and glared at Colin.

“Sorry.” Colin backed up, away from the coffee table. “I didn’t mean to intrude, I just hadn’t seen one in person yet.”

“It’s okay,” I said, before anyone said something he or she would regret. “Colin, was there anything else you or your mom needed?”

He shook his head and apologized again. I showed him to the door, left Simon to watch him drive away, and excused myself to the bathroom.

I avoided the mirror as I filled the sink and emptied the baggie of salt I’d stashed between two folded towels, which had been left in the linen closet for staging purposes, earlier in the evening. But then, too curious to know what the visible physical effects were of a day filled with such stress, both good and bad, I snuck a peek.

Beautiful
.

It was the first word that came to mind, and I was the most insecure girl I knew. But I couldn’t help it. Unlike my reflection in Betty’s restroom mirror only hours before, my skin was soft and smooth, without the slightest wrinkle or crease. My hair shone as it hung in loose waves to my shoulders. My lips were pink, moist.

My eyes were wide. Bright.

And more silver than they’d ever been.

C
HAPTER 16
 

The article ended with the police department’s phone number, e-mail address, and Web site. I skimmed the other front-page headlines, then flipped through the rest of the paper. For better or worse, Carla remained the top news story, which meant hers was the only death to report.

“These are the biggest lobster rolls I’ve ever seen,” Charlotte said.

I pushed the paper aside as she walked toward the picnic table carrying two paper plates.

“Probably because with fewer customers, they have crustaceans to spare.” I took one of the plates and watched her round the table and lower herself, slowly, to the bench on the other
side. Rather than climb over the seat, she kept her legs outside and sat at an angle. “I don’t know why you didn’t let me get lunch.”

“Because I knew you wanted to save me the ten-foot trip from the Seafood Shack.” She smiled, spread a paper napkin in her lap. “And that wasn’t necessary.”

I sipped my water to keep from disagreeing. She still looked great in her long sundress, crocheted vest, and big sunglasses, but she was moving even slower than when she’d first arrived in Winter Harbor. Even now, after the twenty-foot-long round-trip, she breathed quickly. Her forehead was damp with perspiration. Her hands twitched as she raised the sandwich to her mouth.

“Can I ask you something?”

She chewed, swallowed. “I feel fine, Vanessa. I promise.”

“Good. But that wasn’t my question.” I wondered that to myself, of course, but didn’t want to pry.

“Oh.” She sounded simultaneously surprised and relieved. “Well, what is it?”

I was glad the cloudless blue sky made sunglasses necessary, so she couldn’t see my eyes shift to the newspaper at the other end of the table. “Have you heard anything … strange lately?”

She’d been about to take another bite but stopped. “What do you mean by strange?”

“I mean, I don’t know … voices? Singing?”

She lowered her sandwich and I knew she understood what I was asking. “Why? Have you?”

“No … but I don’t really know how to listen.”

She looked around to make sure we were far enough away from the few other people on the pier, then leaned toward me. “How are
you
feeling? Have you been having headaches again?”

I hadn’t, but this was a good segue to another question I wanted to ask. There were so many at this point, I didn’t know how to raise them without overwhelming Charlotte—or me. Assuming she’d have been less surprised at my initial question if she had heard something recently, I decided to go with the second.

“I’ve felt better,” I admitted. When her face instantly tightened, I added quickly, “My head’s fine. No pain at all. But the rest of my body’s another story.”

Her lips pressed together, as the skin around them softened. “Go on.”

Not wanting to alarm her, I took a big bite of my sandwich before continuing. If eating came before what I was about to say, then it couldn’t be that serious.

“It’s been a little unpredictable lately,” I finally said. “One minute, I feel strong and energized, and the next, I feel like I’m about to pass out.” She didn’t need to know that I’d actually collapsed behind the lake house a few weeks earlier. “I had a decent handle on it over the school year and knew that I’d need refueling after a certain amount of time or a particularly stressful situation. I also knew how to refuel, either by drinking, bathing, or swimming in salt water. But something’s changed. What used to satisfy me now does or doesn’t. If it does, the effect fades faster. In general, I get tired and feel cravings much sooner. I
know you said I’d need more as a Nenuphar, but sometimes it seems like nothing’s enough.”

“You’re becoming stronger,” Charlotte said evenly. “Even when you’re weak, your body’s still learning, developing,
growing
. What you described is happening faster than it did for me and much faster than I’d hoped for you, but it’s not unexpected.”

I couldn’t see her eyes behind her sunglasses, but any hint of surprise was gone from her face. Even her lips had relaxed, turning down at the corners.

“Parker King.”

The name was like a slap in the face. I sat back, reached for my water bottle.

“What happened with him?” Charlotte asked.

“Nothing.” The word shot from my mouth. “After Simon and I broke up, I told Parker we couldn’t be friends—or anything else. We didn’t say more than five words to each other before graduation.”

“What did you say to each other then?”

Defensiveness burned in my belly and I struggled to stifle the sensation. Charlotte sounded merely curious, not judgmental.

“He came up after the ceremony to say hi—and good-bye.” I didn’t look at her as I picked at my sandwich. “And to tell me he was going to Princeton after all, the way his father wanted him to.”

“How did you feel about that?”

“Terrible. He didn’t want to go to Princeton. He wanted to get a boat—a small one, not the kind of yacht his family had—and
sail up and down the coasts.” I frowned. “At one point, he wanted me to go with him.”

We were quiet for a moment. The only sounds on the beach were the oldies music coming from the Seafood Shack and laughter from a group of guys playing Frisbee.

“You cared for him.”

“No, I didn’t.”

“If that were true you wouldn’t be so emotional now.”

“We were friends. Not for long, but still. I’d feel the same way about any girlfriend who told me she was doing something against her wishes, because her parents wanted her to.”

“Even if that girlfriend had come between you and the one person you loved more than anyone else in the world?”

I pushed my plate away, drained my water bottle. It wasn’t just what Charlotte said now that was upsetting. It was thinking back to graduation day, when Parker had given me a shy smile and hug—and I’d resisted holding on to him and refusing to let go. It was remembering the months before then, when we hadn’t talked at my insistence, but exchanged fleeting glances in the hallways at school. It was being reminded of the time we’d spent together last fall, and how my body had been drawn to his, and the way my heart had started to follow. If he ever crossed my mind now—and he did, despite my best efforts—it was only as a reminder that Simon deserved as much as I could possibly give him, and more.

“I’m not trying to upset you, Vanessa,” Charlotte continued. “I know you love Simon more than anything or anyone. But if
you can, think about how you feel when you’re with him and compare that to how you felt when you were with Parker. Physically, I mean. You don’t have to share your answer with me, of course, but is there a difference?”

I didn’t have to think about this. I didn’t have to compare. I already had.

There was a big difference. Being with Simon was amazing and exciting and all I wanted.

Being with Parker had been amazing and exciting … and all I’d
needed
. We’d only kissed a few times, but those brief exchanges, which I hadn’t been able to stop, no matter how hard my head tried to intervene, had energized me and set my body on autopilot for days.

“You know what I’m going to say.”

I looked up from my plate.

“I’m still not listening to your thoughts,” Charlotte said, “which is a topic, by the way, that we’ll come back to. But you’re a smart girl. You might not have let yourself believe it … but you brought this up with me for confirmation only.”

“But Paige feels fine,” I said, still wanting there to be some other explanation. “She told me she feels no differently here than she did back in Boston.”

“Because, as I explained a while ago, the long-term efficacy of salt water fades with time. It’s still necessary, but it’s not enough to sustain you. Paige transformed months after you did, so her body’s still adjusting.” Charlotte looked away, toward the harbor. “Plus, it’s unlikely that you’ll respond the same way to
various energy sources. After all, Paige isn’t a Nenuphar. You’ll always need more than she will.”

Before I could respond, a Frisbee landed on the table between us.

“Sorry!” A guy in board shorts and a sweatshirt jogged toward us. He appeared to be in his late twenties. “Slippery fingers!”

“Watch,” Charlotte whispered. Or at least I think she did. The word came and went in an instant.

“Hey.” He slowed to a walk, motioned to our food. “Hope I didn’t ruin your lunch.”

“Not at all.” Charlotte picked up the Frisbee, removed her sunglasses, and smiled. “Nice day for a game.”

“Yeah, my friends and I—”

He stopped, his eyes frozen to Charlotte’s. Still holding the Frisbee in one hand, she pressed the other to his chest. A high-pitched note sounded; I tore my gaze away from them to look behind me, thinking the Seafood Shack must be experiencing technical difficulties with its outdoor speaker system, but the music played normally. The steady note grew softer when I turned away and louder as I turned back.