Night Forbidden (6 page)

Despite the hours and days Ana spent in the ocean, it was so vast and there was simply so much that had been swamped that she had only diligently explored a small part of the remains of the pre-Change world within five miles of where she now made her home. Today she wanted to return to what seemed to be a whole cache of fascinating things.

Because no normal human could dive as deeply, or for as long as Ana could, there were treasures that had lain untouched for decades, often still wrapped in plastic that even the salt and strength of the sea couldn’t destroy. She’d recovered DVDs and clothing, along with tools and utensils and numerous other items. Today, she wanted to return to a big brown truck that had been filled with boxes and packages when it tumbled into the water. She’d only had the chance to peek inside before.

Of course, most of the cardboard packaging would have long rotted away, but not in every case. And whatever had been inside those boxes, often wrapped in plastic, now lay strewn in and around the vehicle.

Ana slipped just inside the angled crack of the truck’s door and found herself in too much darkness. She stripped off her tank top and tied it around her waist, thankful for the other benefit of her crystals. The soft glow they gave off helped to illuminate the darkness here, and in the depths where the sun couldn’t reach.

A pleasant blue glow cast around the space, which was the size of her bedroom and filled with odd-looking shapes, and as she hovered near the entrance, watching, one of the shapes rose from a far corner. It was as tall as a man, but half the size.

She reached for her knife and saw the glow of its eyes in the instant before it shot toward her, yellowish-green and blue sparks lighting the space from its anger at being disturbed.

Ana swore and ducked out of the door just as the eel crashed into the space behind where she’d been floating. The sound of its furious launch slamming against the metal wall echoed through the water in a dull clang, but she didn’t waste any more time. Over six feet long, mad as a hornet, and exuding electrical sparks, the eel was not her friend. He would come after her if she invaded his den. Her knife would hardly be enough to defend herself against the shocking pulses of energy.

Damn, damn, damn.
Her heart pounded from the close call as she surged through the water away from the truck.
That was too close.

Yes, she’d been cautious—but not cautious enough. Usually, she tossed something into a dark space like that before even going in, but—

Ana felt the change in the current behind her and turned just in time to dodge the sparking eel again. She felt the tingle of electricity jolt through the water as he shot past her.
Shit, he’s not giving up.
Her eyes wide, her heart slamming harder, her crystals warm and burning with effort, she whipped around a bicycle fused into a rocky reef and swam off into a different direction.

But still he came after her, violent and angry, and she had to duck and dive through windows and around houses and vehicles as she fled from him. Her only advantage was her agility, for though the eel was snakelike and slithered through the water, when attacking he launched himself straight and hard like a javelin. But then he was too quick and sleek for her to get a good slice with her blade.

He shot past her again, surprising her when she thought she’d lost him, and she cried out soundlessly from the sting and burn on the right side of her body even as she stabbed at him. The electricity made her nerves shudder, and she suddenly felt heavy.

Oh no you don’t, she thought, gritting her teeth. The eel’s modus operandi was to numb and paralyze with its electrical surge, and then to attack its helpless victim. She was not about to fall prey to that trick. Though her body’s movements had become clumsy, she was able to manipulate herself toward a heavy concrete and rock formation. There, she waited, plastering her body against it as she readied her weapon, waiting for her muscles to start to work again.

Sure enough, the eel came stealing around the corner, its blue and green sparks preceding him as warning.

Ana held her breath as he shot toward her, his eyes glowing like ugly green-yellow marbles.
Three, two, one, move!

She dodged at the very last moment, clumsier than usual but effective enough so the creature crashed into the stone at full force just as she slammed the knife down. He was close enough that she got another surge of electrical power, flashing over the front and side of her torso again. But while she was only slightly numb and slow, he was stunned and disoriented—although not yet dead. His blood would attract other creatures.

Ana didn’t waste any time. She replaced her knife in the belt and stumble-swam away, paddling awkwardly with her hands like a dog. Her legs tried to frog-kick, but instead fumbled all over, knocking into things. But the wounded eel wasn’t following her now—she kept looking back to see—and she made her way back to where she’d left Bruiser.

Her heart was still pounding when she staggered from the water, the waves lapping over her breasts and arms as she found footing and walked up toward shore, feeling the change in her body as one lung took over the process of breathing from the other one. She realized she’d lost her tank top during the chase, but no one would be around to see her—

Oh, Nemo’s busted sword, what were the chances?

Fence was standing on the shore near Bruiser, watching her emerge from the water.

Of course. It would be him. Were the Fates conspiring? Or was it just bad luck?
Crap.

Ana paused in the water and eased back a bit so the waves splashed up against her torso. It wasn’t the fact that she was in her underwear that stopped her—she didn’t have that sort of modesty, not after the things she and Darian had done. It was her crystals she was desperate to hide. They were bare beneath the band of her bra, and Fence couldn’t help but notice them.
Now what?

She realized she was trembling; not from the sudden breeze or change in temperature, but from the eel’s assault on her body. Now that she was on foot, upright, the remnants of those electrical charges seemed to skitter even more powerfully through her. Something ached on her torso, and she looked down to see mottled red and purple marks along her right arm and waist, rising from beneath the water. Based on the pain, she guessed it went all the way along her leg as well.

A sudden thought struck her: What if the eel had shocked the left side, where her crystals were. Would that have disabled their energy?

“Yo!” shouted Fence. He’d walked toward the water. “You okay?”

Considering the last words he’d said to her were
Don’t touch me
and
Get away
, Ana found that rather . . . mundane.

Despite her battered body, her brain was still sharp. “I dropped something,” she said, and went back under the water. Scooping up a bit of mud, she wiped it over her left side as she came back up, hopefully obscuring her crystals from notice until she could find a shirt.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” he asked as she walked out, quickly, keeping her left arm curved in front of her ribs.

She noticed that his big dark feet were bare, sunken into the wet sand as if he’d curled his toes into it. And then her attention traveled up along solid ankles and muscular calves, past his shorts and a T-shirt that stretched to far boundaries over his shoulders. She had to swallow hard and take a deep breath. As Yvonne would say, he was sweltering.

Don’t get sucked in
.

But it would be so easy,
she argued back with herself.
And he’s—

He’d have your clothes off in two seconds flat . . . then you’d be in the deep sea.

“You’re shivering,” Fence said, “and you’re filthy. And—what’s that?” He was, fortunately, looking at the burns on her skin rather than the mud-covered crystals.

Again Ana thought quickly. “I’m freezing,” she said, hugging herself and making her teeth chatter audibly—which wasn’t difficult, as she was frighteningly trembly and weak.

“Here,” he said, as she’d hoped he would, and yanked off his shirt. “What’s that on your side?” he asked again.

The T-shirt was warm and soft, and it smelled fresh and piney and like man, and Ana pulled it on gratefully. “Oh that? I scraped myself on a rock.”

“Didn’t look like a scrape to me,” he said. “Let me take a look. I know first aid. You might get infected.”

“I’m fine,” she replied, then turned it back onto him. “What are you doing here?”

“Your father—uh, I didn’t realize he was your father . . . George. I’m here to pick some of his medicine and take it back to Envy. Anyway, he told me you’d probably be here. He offered me something to eat, then realized you weren’t there to—uh—make it. He seemed surprised that you weren’t.” He gave her a sidewise grin that made her stomach go soft. “So he said I should go fetch you.”

“Sounds like my dad,” she said with exasperated affection. But she couldn’t really complain—Dad was a terrible cook. She limped over to Bruiser with even less grace than usual. Her legs, dammit, were still weak.

“You shouldn’t be swimming alone,” Fence said, coming up behind her as she picked up her shorts and tried to put them on without falling onto her face.

“Yeah?” she said innocently, turning to look at him over her shoulder once the shorts were up in place.

“Yeah. Anything could happen—you could get lost or injured or even attacked by a shark.”

She could have sworn he gave a little shudder as he looked out over the infinite expanse of sea. “Well maybe next time you’ll come with me,” she told him, partly because she was wondering about his reaction to saving Tanya.

“Yeah, well, I don’t like to get my hair wet,” he said, smoothing his hand over a very bald head. “Oh, wait . . . heh,” he added with a deep laugh. But the chuckle sounded strained and forced.

Ana looked at him again and saw a flash of something else behind the humor in his face. Then it was gone. And then she realized she was looking
up
into his face—unusual for her in light of her six-foot height. Fence was at least three or four inches taller than her. But despite his size and confidence, there was that something uncertain lurking in his dark eyes, and because it seemed like such an anomaly in a big and flamboyant guy like him, her curiosity was aroused.

“I can teach you to swim,” she said, putting on her shoes. She had to take her time, for her muscles were still weak and trembly. She’d never been stung by an eel before. How long would this last? And how the heck was she going to hide it from her dad?

“Oh, I can swim,” he replied flatly. “I told you,” he continued with an odd smile, “I don’t like getting my hair wet.” Then his eyes, which were almond-shaped and framed with ultra long, curly lashes, narrowed. “Don’t think I haven’t noticed you trying to change the subject.”

“What subject?” she asked. “You were lecturing me about swimming alone.”

He huffed in annoyance, but she saw a glint of humor in his eyes. “Yes, but before that I was demanding that you let me take a look at whatever happened to your skin there.”

“Yes, demanding is the word. I’m glad you recognized that,” she replied, lining Bruiser up next to the tall rock she always used to mount him. It had little natural indents she used for steps.

“Hey, I call ’em like I see ’em,” he said, and she felt him watching her carefully as she arranged the reins so she could climb up onto the boulder.

The hair on the back of her neck prickled. If he suggested that she needed help, she was going to cream him. Of course, if he did that, it would give her a reason not to find him attractive. Which she kind of needed about now.

“And that isn’t a damned scrape from a rock. Why are you trying to be so heroic? I’ve seen enough people—including my best friend Lenny—die from something that starts off being nothing, but then turns septic or into something that ends up killing them.”

“Maybe,” she said, using a sapling tree branch to help herself up onto the rock, all the while feeling him watch her. She was certain his body was tense and ready to jump to her aid if she slipped on her unreliable leg. So she took extra care. “Or maybe you’re just trying to get under my shirt. Your shirt,” she corrected herself, facing him on top of the rock. Now she was taller than he was, and he had to look up at her. And, dang, he was even better looking from this angle. She suppressed a little shiver of attraction. “I know how guys like you work.”

Oh, did she. Darian notwithstanding. Greg Luck had been trying to get her undressed for six months now, and he was only the most persistent. But Ana was adept at keeping them all at arm’s length—out of necessity as well as disinterest.

A smile lurked in Fence’s eyes now and twitched his full lips. “Well, since it’s my shirt, if that’s what I wanted, I—you know, ‘a guy like me’—just wouldn’t have given it to you. You looked pretty damn good coming out of the water like that.” He frowned and looked around. “Where’s
your
shirt, anyway?”

“Thank you,” she said, not about to tell him she’d lost her tank top in a skirmish with an eel, and turned to launch herself onto Bruiser. Unlike most people, because of her leg, she didn’t mount on the left side. But this time, when she fit her right foot into the stirrup and lifted her other leg up and over, her weakened muscles didn’t cooperate and her knee buckled.

She tipped backward, and the next thing she knew, she was tumbling off Bruiser . . . and, of course, into Fence’s arms.

“You were just waiting for that to happen, weren’t you,” she said, testy and a little out of breath. Mortification heated her cheeks as she worked her foot out of the stirrup, where it had twisted and caught.

“Not at all,” he said seriously, then added, “but I’m a little suspicious you might’ve planned it that way. Otherwise, how else were you going to get into my arms? Not that you even had to ask, or anything . . . after all, you already got me to take my shirt off.”

Ana snorted a laugh that was more humor than she wanted to admit. Her heart was slamming in her chest, surely hard enough to be felt all the way from behind her ribs through her skin into his really warm, really solid and broad and chiseled
bare
chest. It was like stone . . . but smooth and
warm
and alive. She swallowed away the quivering in her belly . . . and lower. “Okay, well—”