Darla starts to cry in earnest, tears coursing down her cheeks.
“I have to get away from the beach or I’ll get stuck,” I say, my heart shattering over the fact that I can’t hold her, soothe her. No, I must focus on her safety. Though I want to reassure her more than I want my next breath, I drag the jet ski into the waterwith me, because I know she doesn’t have the strength to do it herself. “Tell me you’re going to be okay, little human.”
She’s shaking with the force of her tears now, her teeth chattering when she says, “I’ll be okay.”
It’s the least convincing thing I’ve ever heard.
My other arm transforms into a fin, and I have no choice but to walk backward into the water. Away from Darla where she drifts upon the jet ski, trying to keep her chin from wobbling and failing miserably.Oh, my perfect little human.
“I’m sorry,” I rasp, the trunk of my body starting to stretch. Elongate.
My time is truly up.
“I love you, Darla,” I gasp, just as my human form ceases to exist.
Nine
Darla
“Ilove you, too,” I sob into the night wind.
He’s gone. Moby is gone.
His human form, anyway.
About one hundred yards from shore, his powerful blueish-gray body rises from the water to release air from his blowhole, and I sink down helplessly onto the leather seat. He didn’t sound very confident at all that the sea witch would grant his request. Will I never see Moby again as a human?
If he’s not human, I won’t be able to hear his voice.
Make love to him.
Have a life together on the land.
Marry him.
“But we love each other,” I say uselessly, as if the fates—or maybe the sea witch—are listening and care enough to help me. They don’t. There is no sound, apart from the lapping water and the rumbling engine of the jet ski. The lack of Moby’s deep voice is like missing my heart. Perhaps I am. Perhaps it’s swimmingout of the cove right now, beckoning me with his giant tale, probably wanting me to go back to the resort where it’s safe.
But I don’t want to go home without Moby.
And I’m sick of playing it safe.
I want my man back.
Infused by a thunderbolt of determination, I whip the jet ski around and gun the machine toward the mouth of the cove. Moby waits for me on the other side, his head sticking out of the water, like the first time we met. His eyes narrow as I come closer, because I’m not slowing down and in fact, I blow right past him, heading for…I don’t know where. The middle of the ocean. Or something.
Well, it’s pitch black out there, so I’m guessing I only make it about a mile, before my nerves kick in and I cut the engine. I might be shaking out of fear now, but I’m more determined than ever to fight to keep my love.
Moby circles the jet ski, blowing angry plumes of hot air from his blow hole, his enormous body creating wake that rocks me to and fro. He nudges the jet ski in the direction of the resort, but I shake my head.
“I’m not going back without you,” I shout at him. “Bring me the sea witch.”
He slaps his tail down forcefully in the water. I’m guessing that’s a no.
“Sea witch!” I scream at the top of my lungs.
I wrap my arms around my bikini-clad body, trying to warm up, but the air is freezing. The water that splashes against my ankles is ice cold. And the way Moby is looking at me, he is seconds from swallowing me whole and transporting me back to the resort inside of his great big body. While there is something about that mode of transportation that I find appealing, that won’t solve our immediate problem.
“Sea witch!” I yell again, my voice tremulous.
