If I didn’t know better, I’d assume he was sizing me up for a meal.
“Um…” I push up the side of the boat once more, intending to escape my wayward thoughts about the whale. They’re verging on inappropriate. “My knee feels better now. I should probably go join my family—”
Before I can finish my sentence, I hear footsteps. A quick glance to the left tells me that none other than Leonardo himself is ambling down the pathway that runs along the side of the boat. Right toward me.
Perhaps because the whale remains so still, Leonardo doesn’t seem to notice him.
Or maybe because he’s solely focused on me, rubbing his hands together.
The whale’s eye ticks in Leonardo’s direction, narrowing.
He sinks down a few feet into the waves.
“There she is. My sweet Darla.” Leonardo jerks his chin in the direction from which he came. “You’re missing all the action, love bug. Are you scared of the great beasts?” He reaches his hand out, wiggling his pale fingers. “Don’t worry, I’ll protect you.”
I am trying not to be obvious about cringing backward and when his fingertips brush my shoulder, I close my eyes and prepare to blurt that I feel seasick. But before I can issue that bald-faced lie, there’s a loud thunderclap and a shock of wind that stumbles me sideways. My eyes fly open just in time to see my whale’s massive tail slam down onto the surface of the ocean, sending a wave toward the boat that rocks Leonardo back.
Away from me.
Holding on to the side of the boat, I try not to laugh.
“Whoa nelly! I’m going to tell the captain to head back to shore,” Leonardo says, visibly alarmed. “We’ve got an angry whale on our hands.”
Moments later, the vessel has turned around and is speeding back toward the resort dock. I should be relieved that the expedition is over early and I’m no longer confined to the boat with my parents and their awful friends. But I can’t help but feel like I’m leaving a friend behind. I can’t help but watch for anysign of him as we pick up speed, the wind tearing at my hair. And I can’t help but wonder about the sense of loss in my chest.
Something tells me that as long as I live, I’ll never forget my whale.
Two
Moby
I’m closer to the shore than I’ve been in years.
Though I’m under the cover of darkness, as night has fallen, the sounds and sights coming from the beach cause my stomach to turn. Shrill laughter and twirling fire and stumbling humans. I believe what I’m observing is called a luau.
I do not like humans. They are loud, messy and they intrude on my ocean, leaving trash and the smell of diesel fuel behind.
Unfortunately, I have not been able to stop thinking about one of them.
The only one whose voice and presence…pleased me. A great deal.
Darla.
That is what the pipsqueak named Leonardo called her.
A grand name for a scrawny leech.
My insides grow tense at the possibility that Darla is on that beach with Leonardo. This afternoon, I came very close to tipping their boat over so that I might spend more time withDarla. So that I could separate her from that slippery eel. But humans cannot survive in the ocean. Just like whales cannot survive on the shore.
Unless they have the power to shift.
Which I do.
I sink into the cool water with a drawn-out grumble, disgusted by the idea of being human. A horrifying prospect, to be sure. Toes and fingers? Blech. Hair? No, thank you. I am not dealing with any of that nonsense.
However, Darla had the cutest little toes, painted pink and sticking out of her sandals. Her strawberry blonde hair caught the sunlight, highlighting her blushing cheeks and her ripe young form. I’ve never found a human body pleasing before. Never been…drawn to touch and taste one. But no amount of food that I’ve consumed today has made a dent in my hunger, because it’s only for her.This…Darla.
Now, I am here, considering a shift into human form, solely for the purpose of mating hers. Yes. I want to find her on that beach and mate her roughly, as evidenced by the heaviness beneath me, weighing me down into the water. I could not have her any other way but in a human form. Not without killing her. And I find the idea of Darla even in one iota of pain floods me with awful, raging tension. What happened to her little knee?
