having a chat about virtue. Right after this fellow walks to his doom.” The scowl turned my way and contained a little shove, a gust of wind suddenly slamming into me. Apparently, undead magic worked just fine on a lion shifter.
I found myself teetering on the edge of the plank, counting fins. The damned sharks wouldn’t stop moving though, meaning my ballpark of fifty might be a little high. Or low. I couldn’t really tell.
“Oz!” Jane yelled my name.
“Don’t worry. I got this.” How bad could wrestling sharks be? And I’d have help.
I heard Jellia say in the background, “Someone hold my sunglasses.” The equivalent of a beer.
“You are not walking the plank, Oz. Do you hear me, Daddy? Oz is…” Jane’s voice trailed off. “What is that in your hand? Is that my locket? Hand it over.”
I peered over my shoulder to see her hand outstretched, beckoning.
Davey tucked it behind his back. “You know I can’t do that. Your mother would kill me.”
“Don’t involve me in this. This fiasco was your idea.” A wave rose on Theodore’s left and deposited a woman on deck. Given her resemblance to Jane, it didn’t take much to guess that I was meeting Mrs. Davey.
“We both know he’s not the man for her. This,”—Davey shook the locket—“will lead her to the right man.”
“I don’t want it to.” Jane stamped her foot. “Give it so I can break the spell.”
“No.” Davey tucked his other hand behind his back and held the locket tight. “I’ll find another pirate to give it to. A less drunk one this time.”
Jane screeched. “Don’t you dare!”
“Enough of this.” Jane’s mother swept close to the pirate and held out her hand. “Give it.”
“I swear, I know a better pirate. Handsome. Still alive. Has his own boat.”
Mrs. Davey’s fingers waggled.
The dreaded pirate sighed as he held out the chain, the locket on it spinning, in front of more than a few cats.
Jinjur, Jellia, my mother, and a few others who crowded close to the spectacle tracked it. Back and forth. Dangle. Twist.
Swat. No surprise, a few paws batted at the shiny thing, knocking it from the pirate’s grip.
It fell, right into the midst of the churning fins.
Only one thing to do.
I jumped in after it.
16
Jane: The things I do for love.
For a moment, after the idiot had jumped, there was stunned silence. Then a flurry of clothes flying and bodies leaping for the rail. There went Oz’s sisters, his mother, and who I assumed were other family members after him, turning the waters into a chaotic mess.
I glared at my dad. “Are you happy now?”
“That depends. Are you mad?” My dad sidled closer to the edge, his nervous sweat keeping him damp.
“You made my boyfriend walk the plank.”
“It should be noted that he jumped of his own volition.”
Doubtful. I was more convinced than ever that the locket was having an effect on Oz.
“Take note of the fact, Daddy,” I said his name with a snarl, “that I’m going after him.”
Despite knowing that I might die and get stuck with my parents, I jumped. Straight-bodied, I plummeted down, closing my eyes to the churn below me. The hooting. The hollering. The splashing. The…shark that hit me midair and tumbled me upside down.
I hit the water with my mouth open and swallowed some. The problem with coughing? I couldn’t catch a breath. Too much ocean.
My lungs tightened. Fear rose in me. Annoyance, too.
Drowning really wasn’t what I had planned, and I was feeling pretty testy at the moment. Not to mention, I was in my element. The seat of my daddy’s power. It meant this princess of DJ’s Locker wasn’t without some skills.
I swirled my finger in the water and pushed some magic into the motion. Pushed and pushed, widening the swirl, the water spiraling with it, turning into a reverse cyclone made of water and fury.
Kind of satisfying on a primal, visceral level.
As the water spun, it caught the cruise line passengers and sharks alike, sending them spinning. Every now and then, a head popped out for an excited scream of, “Yeehaw!” or a less than pleased, “I’m gonna puke!” Then some shrieks when someone did.
The maelstrom kept churning until it reached the bottom of the ocean and cleared the water from the ship sunken there.
The Sweet Jeanine. Named after my mom. My parents’ home. I stood on the weathered deck, ignoring the flopping fish and gasping coral. Noticed some engravings done in metal and kept tarnish free on the wall leading