“Costa Rica.” I glanced around at the crowd in the restaurant, then at those rambling outside, as if seeking confirmation. I turned back to the man. “Where in Costa Rica?” I wasn’t even sure why I asked. I wouldn’t be able to name one location in Costa Rica, much less have any idea where any town was located.
He stared at me, eyes still narrowed. Lips tight.
I let out a burst of air and shook my head in what I hoped was a gesture of self-annoyance. I tried to speak louder to be heard over the noise. “I’ve been backpacking for weeks now, and I keep forgetting what town I’m in. They all start blending together.”
He nodded slowly, his expression never wavering. “Playa Carmen.”
“Oh, right! Thanks. Can’t believe I forgot that.” I was right. He could have said Tokyo for all the good it did me.
The man leaned closer still, offering me a more direct waft of his beer breath and body odor. “Wait a minute. You asked me whatcountrywe were in. You’ve been backpackin’ all over and didn’t even know whatcountryyou was in?” He peered over my shoulder, then down at the floor near the base of the stool. “Where’s your backpack?”
I paused for a moment, uncertain what to do, then looked below me in surprise, before returning to give him a shocked expression. “Oh, shit! I forgot my backpack.”
Quickly, I reached into the front of my shorts and withdrew a few bills and tossed them on the plate. I gave the man a swat on his fleshy shoulder. “Thanks, dude. Appreciate it!”
Turning, I swiped the remaining portion of the burger off my plate and stepped into the crowded stream of the sidewalk.
Twenty-Nine
BRETT WRIGHT
Costa Rica.More specifically, Playa Carmen, Costa Rica. I wasn’t sure how that knowledge was supposed to help, but it did make me feel more grounded. At least I could roughly envision where I was on the globe. I still had no idea where to find vampires, but it was a start.
The next step would be to find other supernaturals. I’d barely learned there were supernaturals before I’d vanished into the ocean, so I wasn’t sure how successful I would be. However, I’d practiced in Wendell’s costume shop. I’d discovered supernaturals had a sort of extra sense about them, something that caused them to seem just a little bit more filled with life. I hadn’t really been able to put my finger on it, but by the end, I’d been batting a thousand. Still, that had been a quiet little space. It would be a lot more challenging among the bustle of this tourist town.
Vampires—if I saw one, I would know as soon as I saw his eyes. If I happened to see a mermaid wandering around the town, I’d probably catch on to her as well. Beyond that, unless I was able to detect that indescribable quality, I was going to simply have to rely on pure chance and luck—which seemed to have turned in my direction in the past day or so.
At the thought, I patted my back pocket, reassuring myself Chris Stewart’s identity and credit cards were still there. I wondered what he was doing now without being able to prove who he was. Probably was going to make getting back to Texas a touch more difficult. The pulse of guilt faded before it had finished forming. Whatever inconvenience he had to go through, it was nothing compared to what the mers faced. It was a small price for him to pay to help save a species—whether he knew it or not. That, and buying me dinner.
Sure enough, as I walked among the tourists, I couldn’t detect a glimmer of anything, other than the evidence of drunkenness and natural herb usage that was a big part of many people’s vacations. Apparently.
I went into a couple of the gift shops, thinking that looking at a map might help. In the back of the second store was a rack of maps ranging from letter-sized paper with cartoon pictures of all the attractions, to Costa Rica as a country, to one that showed the entire Earth. As I looked at it, I was struck by how preposterously close Costa Rica was to San Diego. It felt like lifetimes ago since I’d been home, like it was another planet. Yet here the two places were, less than a few inches apart. Glancing down at the key, I estimated the distance to be only three or four thousand miles. Hop on a plane and I could be home in half a day.
The notion was bittersweet. No sooner had I wished I could go back and never have experienced any of this, just return to my normal life, than I realized nothing could be further from the truth. Other than Sonia’s fate, my life was better. Stranger, more dangerous, but better. I felt more at home in the sea than I’d ever felt anywhere else. Even the pain of my relationship with Finn didn’t deter me. I was glad we’d our few days together. Especially considering what I’d gotten out of it.
I placed the atlas back into its sheath and picked up the map of Costa Rica. Even though I had no idea where I needed to be, it was probably a good idea to at least have a frame of reference.
The crowdshad started to die down by the time I made my way back to the beach. The bustle of it all was too much. My eardrums pounded in my skull like I had been front row at a death metal concert. After the steady pulse of the ocean, the clamor of humanity was grating.
Just a small reprieve watching the waves was all I needed, and I’d try again. Maybe with fewer people around, I’d be able to sense any nearby supernaturals. Surely some were around. Witches, if nothing else. Finn’s family had led me to believe they were abundant all over the world.
One more round with the lessened masses, and then I’d take refuge beneath the surface again. If I still couldn’t find anyone after I woke, by lunchtime maybe, I’d pick a spot on the map and try there. At least I knew the vampires were in Costa Rica and near the ocean. Or were near it frequently, if Zef was correct in his fear of being close to this place.
I’d only sat upon the sand for a couple of minutes before I got up and repositioned myself close enough that the surf reached my feet on its journey ashore. Less than five hours on land and my body was already aching for the contact.
The full moon was high overhead, illuminating the clouds and reflecting off the sea simultaneously. It was nice to see the ocean from this perspective again. It reminded me of the countless hours I’d spent staring over the cliff by my grandparents’ house when I was a kid, letting the steady waves carry me away from my constant inner turmoil. When I was lost in the distant panorama, my grandfather’s coldness didn’t hurt. Even the fears broiling around the fact something was different about me and how I felt about the other boys had dissipated to nothing more than a furtive awareness in the back of my mind. The sea had always been my refuge.
I never dreamed I’d call it home.
I had to save my family. Maybe I could never fully be me—not being able to have a mate and having to deny my sexuality again—but it was the closest I’d ever been to really feeling at home. It was home. Home didn’t have to be perfect.
“You are one intense dude, man.”
The slow, gravel-filled voice caused me to flinch but didn’t startle me enough to put me in danger of bursting into flames. I twisted around and found a tower of a man standing a couple of feet behind me—far enough away that he didn’t seem threatening but close enough to imply intent. I could tell he was huge, probably as big as me, but a shadow obscured his face from view.
“First you stare at a water glass like it holds the secrets of the universe, and now I’d swear the ocean was speaking to you.” He gestured toward the surf with a large hand but didn’t step any closer. His voice had a faint hint of a Southern drawl, but not one I was familiar with.
It was the guy who had been staring at me when I’d been getting ready for the challenging task of drinking a glass of water. Probably not a good sign that he found me now, or at least that it wasn’t happenstance.
