Authors: Rose Wulf
The waves crashed into the shore again, spraying salty
seawater in wide arcs and dragging her roller coaster back to the frightening
precipice. Why she’d chosen the beach, aside from the unlikely interruptions
and fresh air, she wasn’t sure. The sounds of the rolling tide reminded her an
awful lot of a powerful windstorm. And lord knew she hated those.
Another shiver danced up her spine, and Brooke swallowed
heavily. Yes, she
hated
those. And
while Blake had certainly helped to distract her from Thursday’s, it had still
been a distraction. Inevitably temporary.
She only barely
processed the soft sound of crunching sand beneath someone’s feet before the
voice she least expected to hear called out to her.
“Brooke?”
Chapter Five
Completely caught
off-guard by Blake’s unexpected appearance, all Brooke could think to say as
she looked up was, “Hi.”
Well, that was
impressive.
But what else could she say? Blake stood there, just a couple
of feet back, hands in his jeans pockets with a mildly curious and concerned
expression on his face. He wore a lightweight blue blazer over his shirt, and
his hair fluttered in waves not unlike the tide in the faint breeze. He looked
so
right
on the beach, even in jeans,
that her brain needed a full restart.
Blake seemed to
take her response as a sort of invitation and settled himself in the sand
beside her. He sat with one leg raised and bent at the knee. With an elbow
propped on his knee, he faced her and asked, “Is everything okay?”
Brooke looked away
from him, unsure of how to answer his question. She figured she ought to give
him the stock answer and assure him she was fine, but she wasn’t so inclined to
lie to him.
And over what, a storm?
But her alternative was to actually answer his question, and tell him something
about herself that she didn’t even like to think about. Something she generally
pretended had never been.
Seeming to take her
silence as the answer it was, Blake shifted his own eyes forward and quietly
said, “Let me rephrase that. What’s wrong?”
She sighed and
opened her mouth, pushing out whatever words would come. “I’m sorry about
Thursday,” she said. “That is, I’m sorry for freaking out over the storm…” What
was wrong with her? She didn’t want him thinking she regretted their kiss!
Blake started and looked
back over to her. “You’re still upset about that? It’s not like you need to
apologize for anything.”
Eyes downcast now,
Brooke replied, “The truth is … a part of me is terrified of windstorms like
that.”
Blake’s tone
indicated that he could tell there was more to her story when he gently asked,
“Can you … talk about it?”
Brooke was silent
for a long minute, her gaze returning to the ocean reflexively, as she
contemplated her answer. She could, it was true. It was also true that she
didn’t necessarily want to. But it was the least she could do, she figured,
since he had already seen a glimpse of the results.
“When I was
little,” she began, still looking forward, “my parents left me home with a
babysitter while they went out one night. And while they were out, a terrible
storm blew in. It started like an ordinary thunderstorm, at least from what I
remember, but then the wind came.”
She paused, taking
in a deep breath, and Blake kept quiet.
“I honestly don’t
remember the details,” Brooke continued. “A lot of the details I know are
things I’ve learned since. But my parents were driving home in the middle of
the storm, and someone crashed into them. From what I heard, my dad died
instantly, and my mom died in the ambulance. I was an only child, and my only other
relative was my grandmother, who already lived in a nursing home. So I became a
ward of the state, basically, and I spent years bouncing back and forth between
foster homes before I was finally adopted eleven years ago.”
She took another
breath before reiterating, “But, like I said, I don’t actually remember the
night of the accident too well. The only memories that I know for sure are
mine, and not images I made up to go with the stories, are memories of the
storm. I remember the rain pelting the windows, and the trees bending in really
weird ways. And the wind … it was so loud that night.” She shivered
involuntarily as her voice trailed, the echoing howl of the wind from her
memory sending a chill through her heart.
Blake was silent
for several seconds before he finally said, “I’m sorry. I never meant to bring
something like that up.”
Brooke shook her
head, finally looking back over at him. “No, it’s okay. I know it’s kind of
messed up, but, I don’t really remember my parents. I was only four when they
died.”
“Still.” Blake
hedged, as if understanding her point but feeling bad all the same. “Is there
something I can do to help take your mind off it?”
Her lips curving up ever so slightly, Brooke replied,
“Well, you are kind of good at distractions…” But she didn’t want to make him
uncomfortable, and whatever might be budding between them she didn’t want to
screw up. So she quickly offered an alternative to keep the mood light. “Or you
could … tell me your own deep dark secret? You know, make us even.” Personally,
she hoped he’d opt for the kiss. But she supposed learning something new and
maybe significant about him would be good, too.
Blake chuckled and wrapped an arm around her shoulders,
pulling her into his side. “Those are my choices, huh?” he said teasingly.
****
He was silent for a long moment after, keeping a loose hold
on her shoulders. A dangerous impulse had popped up in his head. Something he
hadn’t considered until he’d seen Brooke sitting, so sad and lonely, on the
beach. He disliked seeing her that way. But was he
really
considering telling her his secret? His
family’s
secret?
Suddenly, Blake’s lips tingled in memory of Brooke’s
earlier kiss.
Yes, he was considering telling her his secret. Maybe for less
than solid reasons, but, his instinct was that he could trust her. And wasn’t
that really the only requirement? Trust? That trust certainly hadn’t backfired
on him when he’d told his best friend, Jason. Granted, that entire situation
had been different. Jason had nearly drowned during a late-night swim and Blake
had had to use his powers to save his friend’s life. As a result, Jason was the
only one Blake had ever revealed himself to.
Until now.
He wasn’t sure how long it took him to work up the nerve to
ask a simple, clichéd question. “Can you keep a secret?”
****
Thrown by his question, Brooke angled her head to look up
at him. “Yeah, I suppose… What kind of secret are we talking about, exactly?”
He held her gaze as he replied, “An ancient one.”
Now thoroughly intrigued, Brooke slowly nodded. “All right
… on one condition. I don’t want anyone hunting me down for knowing about it.”
Blake’s lips twitched and he shook his head. “Don’t worry.
It’s not life-threatening.”
“That’s good.” Brooke reached over to run her fingers along
the collar of his shirt and tease his skin. “Because I’m ridiculously curious
now.”
“The best way to explain it,” Blake began, pulling away and
pushing to his feet, “is for me to show you. So watch closely.” He offered her
a quick smirk before he took two steps backwards, away from her, and held out
one hand towards the ocean. The wave, which had been rolling in at its steady,
calm pace suddenly stilled, holding the line several feet lower than usual.
Then, abruptly, the water reversed, rushing back into itself.
Brooke was confused as her eyes flicked between her
companion and the strangely behaving sea. Was it possible for the ocean to be
behaving like that?
It must be,
her
brain told her,
because otherwise I have
to believe it’s possible for
Blake
to
be doing that.
As if sensing her disbelief, Blake curved his hand slowly
so that his palm was angled towards her, and then swept his arm in almost
casually.
The flow of the tide seemed to return to normal, but as the
water came up, a stream separated itself and continued moving forward even as
the rest of the water receded. This stream lifted off the ground as it broke
free and glided with an unnatural grace through the air until it had curved
completely around Brooke’s seated form. It swirled around her, separating
completely from the ocean and spiraling up.
Brooke was wide-eyed, and barely breathing, as she watched
the seawater move around her. It was like magic, and she had no idea how to
react. The water curved around her one final time before continuing on, this
time flying toward Blake. She watched as he held out one hand, palm up, and the
water gathered there, forming a type of puddle and hovering above his hand.
With a flick of his wrist, the water snapped quickly back
to the ocean before collapsing, as if the spell that had possessed it had
suddenly broken.
“
Wh
-what … was that?” Brooke
asked shakily as she drew in a ragged breath.
That was impossible, that’s what that was.
Blake stayed put, letting his arm fall to his side, and met
her gaze solidly. “That was my power. I have the ability, if you will, to
control water. It’s as natural to me as breathing.”
He said it with such a straight face, and such a serious,
calm voice, that Brooke found herself inclined to believe him. Except that it
was impossible. She just didn’t know how
else
to explain what she’d just witnessed. And that was a lot to take in. Did
she—could she—really believe what he’d just shown her?
She tried to surreptitiously look around, to see if there
were a more logical way to explain what she’d seen. But no one was there. No
boats lingered just off shore. The
only
explanation was the one he’d offered. No matter how impossible it should have
been.
Blake remained silent as he watched her process what she’d
seen. What he’d told her.
After several minutes, Brooke finally spoke. “Is that … why
you like rain so much?” It was such a stupid question that she couldn’t
actually believe she’d just asked. And yet it was the only real question she
could wrap her mind around.
His lips twitched again, though he contained the grin this
time, and he nodded. “Yes. The closer I am to water, the stronger I am, and the
better I feel. Which is why I live in a coastal town, and why I spend as much
time outside on rainy days as I can without looking like a freak.”
“Can you breathe underwater?” The question was past her
lips before she had even consciously wondered it, but she managed not to clamp
her hands over her mouth in embarrassment. At this point, she figured, it was
as legitimate a question as any other.
Blake allowed the grin to show this time as he said, “Yep.
But I can do more than that. If I want to, I can actually
become
water.”
Brooke blinked up at him. “I’m sorry,” she began slowly.
“You can do what?”
“Just watch,” Blake replied. He took a deep breath, closed
his eyes, and after a moment water began dripping from his fingertips. And
then, without warning, Blake disappeared entirely. His clothes collapsed, no
longer supported by a body, and it wasn’t until they landed that Brooke realized
there was a puddle of water where he’d been standing.
The puddle moved as she watched, pulling away from the pile
and somehow gliding along the top of the sand. It stopped after moving only a
couple of feet, and turned in a strange circle, like a ribbon of water being
spun around by an invisible pole, almost as if it were showing off. Then it
reversed course, returning to the pile of clothes. When the pile was entirely
encompassed, the water shifted, pushing against the fabric. Filling it, giving
the clothes an odd three-dimensional effect on the sand. The water seemed to
thicken for a moment, and then just as suddenly as he’d disappeared, Blake was
back, kneeling in the sand.
Brooke opened her mouth reflexively, intending to say …
something
… but she quickly found that
she had no idea what, exactly, she would actually say. So she snapped her jaw
shut and watched silently as Blake pushed to his feet.
He released a heavy breath and adjusted the collar of his
jacket, before brushing some loose sand off of his jeans and letting his hands
fall back to his sides. “Believe me now?” he asked with a lopsided grin.
****
Over the course of the next hour and a half, Brooke learned
that Blake was not as unique an individual as she’d first thought. His ability
was, quite literally, in his blood. For as far back as his family could trace,
the mother of the family always gave birth to five children: quadruplet boys
and, later, one girl. The first-born boy was born with the ability to control
water; the other three were born with the ability to control air, earth, and
fire respectively. It was the sister who would eventually birth the next
generation.
At one point, Brooke had asked how their family had come to
possess powers like that. It sounded convoluted to her, like trying to puzzle
out the idea behind the chicken and the egg. And Blake admitted he didn’t have
an answer.
“We weren’t always the only family with these powers,”
Blake explained. “Rumor has it that there used to be dozens of families like
ours. But over the centuries they’ve died out, and so far as we know we’re the
last ones.”
“So you don’t know your own origin story?” Brooke asked,
surprised. “That sounds sort of messed up.”
Blake shrugged and leaned back on the beach, resting his
palms on the sand behind him to hold himself up. “There are lots of theories
that have cropped up over the years,” he said. “But all we know for sure is
that by the time of our earliest official record, our ancestors already had
these powers.”
Intrigued, Brooke shifted to better face him. “Tell me some
of the theories.”
“All right,” Blake said, pausing a moment before a slight
grin curved his lips again. “Apparently my great-grandmother had decided that
our ancestors were actually born from the elements themselves. For whatever
reason, each of the four basic elements came together and gave birth to a human
who had complete mastery of that element. She said she suspected that Mother
Nature was angry at man, and these elementals were supposed to somehow remind
the people of their time to respect the world around them.