up with me? I thought, as we turned back toward the shore of my cove. It’s like I was possessed or something.
We swam together, Trill keeping me at arm’s length while I tried to figure out what had just happened. On the one hand, I hadn’t felt any overt magical influence. But, on the other hand, I’d learned that there were all sorts of magic out there, not all of which I recognized.
But whom have I met who has such power and wants to hurt me? Blondie was apparently an ally, as was Terk, the brownie who worked for Capitola’s family back in the Borderlands. They were the only two beings with nonelemental magic, the type that my kind and I used, that I knew.
Which means we might have another new, unknown enemy, I thought with a mental sigh. I was being rather dramatic but, in my own defense, it is rather tiring having strangers constantly trying to kill my friends and me.
But before I could dwell on that thought, I felt Trill nudge me with her elbow and point forward. I peered through the water until I saw what she was showing me.
There, way ahead of us, stood a pair of legs standing waist high in the water. I squinted, swimming forward a bit more till I could see that the legs were big, bedenimed, and wearing motorcycle boots.
Anyan, I realized, and my whole body tingled at the thought. I looked at Trill, who rolled her eyes.
He’s all yours, she mouthed, giving me a mocking salute before signaling I should swim ahead of her.
Where will you go? I asked her, trying not to smile when she motioned toward the beach quite a ways up the shore. After all, I didn’t want her to think that I was abandoning her—hos before bros and all that—but I did want to ascertain that she’d be well away before I launched my vagoo at Anyan’s face.
And speaking of my lady business, I am bare-assed naked, I thought, pondering that fact. Nell had—I assumed—apparated my clothes to their usual place in my cove, leaving one eminently fuckable (and, from what I could see, fully clothed) barghest standing between me and my modesty.
Luckily, I thought, shrugging for no one’s benefit, I’ve never been particularly attached to the concept of modesty.
And then I swam as fast as I could toward those long, lovely legs. All the worry I’d been suppressing since waking up that I’d been too slow and that Anyan was dead urged me on. I’d been told he was fine, but being told something and seeing it for myself were two entirely different things. So I rushed toward him, needing to feel him—healthy and whole—against me.
At the last moment I kicked off the shallows, breaching the water with a tremendous splash. I landed, wetly, smack dab against Anyan’s T-shirted chest, causing him to rock back on his heels before regaining his balance.
But his arms had wrapped around me immediately, and they never let go.
He held me there, partially in his embrace but also buoyed by a little surge of power from both of us, for what felt like hours but could only have been a handful of seconds. I was as limp as seaweed in his arms, my head cradled under his chin, my own arms draped around his neck. We were both breathing hard—in my case, from a combination of exertion, nerves, and desire.
I barely registered when Anyan started to move, although I did feel the retreat of the water from around our bodies as he walked the both of us up the beach. It was only when I felt him start to sit—presumably on my cove’s resident ancient beached tree trunk—that I pulled my thighs upward, wrapping my legs about his waist so I could remain in his lap.
We stayed like that, me wrapped around him like a little leech, the only sounds that of our breathing and the steady drip of water from our ocean-drenched bodies. There were a thousand things I needed to ask him—a thousand things we needed to talk about. But all I cared about, at that moment, was the feel of his body against mine.
Everything else could wait.
“Thought we’d lost you,” he said, eventually. His voice rumbled through my body and I shivered. In response, he moved my hair aside and stroked a large, warm hand all the way down my back.
I shivered again, but for an entirely different reason.
“I thought I’d lost you,” I replied, feeling