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“He’s gone?” Luke asked.

Syrus met his gaze straight on, and there was a fierceness there, side by side with the sorrow. “He’s gone.”

Luke nodded sharply. “Good. Take us home, please.”

There was a part of Luke—a sizable part—that wanted Syrus in the boat with them. It was the same part of Luke that wanted to be held and comforted by Syrus’s strength and size. But now wasn’t the time. He needed to get Colby back to dry land first.

Syrus led the way. Not like before, scouting ahead and bobbing up to let Luke know where to go. He swam beside them, only a little ways ahead, and it wasn’t too long before Luke could see shore again.

Even with land in sight, Syrus stayed alongside the boat. He was beautiful, if still eerie, his broad form and massive tail undulating in the dark water.

Luke remembered again the old local who used to swim out every morning. Luke had asked him once if he ever got freaked out in the ocean on his own. He’d grinned at Luke, his wrinkles crinkling around his eyes, and said, “Just remember: never turn your back on the wild.”

That scientist had made that crucial mistake. For all that he’d wanted to know the secrets of creatures more deadly and dangerous than he, in the end, he’d turned his back on it. He’d trusted his threats and his weapon and had taken his eyes off the true danger around him. And then he’d gotten what was coming to him.

Luke wondered what the old man would say about his own situation, what he’d think about Luke inviting the wild into his home. Into his heart.

Was it really turning your back on it if you embraced it with open arms?

As they got closer to shore, Luke could make out multiple figures on the beach. His heart thumped dangerously. Police, maybe? If so, what the fuck was Luke going to tell them about any of this?

But Syrus kept swimming, and Luke kept steering, and eventually he saw clearly enough to recognize them. Daphne, Sybil, Riley, and Seth. The cavalry, he supposed.

When they’d reached shallow enough waters, Luke shut off the motor and prepared to step out and get his legs soaked dragging it to shore. But then Syrus was behind them, pushing, and four friendly faces started pulling from the other side. The boat practically flew onto land, stopping with a jolt that had Colby giggling around his jerky.

It was a frenzied bustle of commotion after that. There was an offer of blankets and hot coffee from a thermos Seth had brought. Daphne wrapped Colby up as she explained something about checking on Syrus here before heading to the next town, and Riley recognizing the scientist’s truck.

It was comforting and overwhelming at the same time, but nothing compared to Syrus finally stepping out of the water, fully nude and once again standing on two legs. He strode toward Luke, his expression just as fierce and terrible as when he’d first appeared on the beach to see Luke and Colby held captive. Luke fell forward, and Syrus’s strong arms wrapped around him, bearing his weight without the slightest hint of strain.

And for the first time since that creep had appeared outside his car door, Luke finally—finally—felt safe.

The time between landing at the beach and making it home felt like some sort of dream.

There was more frenzied care after the initial flurry. Luke received his own blanket, as did Syrus, although his was wrapped discreetly around his hips. (But not before Sybil had perused Syrus’s lower half and then pursed her lips and raised her eyebrows at Luke in a surprisingly suggestive manner.)

Seth had clearly come prepared, not only with his thermoses of hot drinks but with donuts for Colby. Which meant Luke had now given his son pastries for both breakfast and lunch, but due to their having been literally kidnapped and threatened with death and bodily harm, Luke was letting it slide.

It was strange. Luke had grown up in this town, had plenty of people around that he’d known his whole life. But this contingent of newcomers—because even if Sybil, Daphne, and Riley had been here for years, it was only recently they’d started actually showing up in town—were caring for him and Colby like they were family.

It was a reminder, maybe, that love didn’t lie only in the familiar.

There were suggestions thrown around that Luke and Colby return to the bakery, or to Sybil and Daphne’s house, to recuperate, but Luke only wanted to go home. He wanted to get his child bundled in his own crib and never take him out again.

He was aware that it was his fear talking. He’d get over it, he was sure. Eventually. But for now it was what he wanted. Needed, even.

Syrus was quiet. He wasn’t distant, exactly, at least not physically, since he didn’t leave Luke’s side even for a moment, some part of them always touching. When Luke took Colby back from Daphne, Syrus simply adjusted his grip to accommodate them both in his hold. But he seemed to have lost the ability or desire for verbal communication. Instead, he was all intense stares and rigid muscles. Like he was still prepared for any threat that might come their way.

He killed a man. Luke tried to shock himself with that thought, but the emotion never came. Only gratitude, pride, and that other, unnamable thing, the one Luke would deal with when he wasn’t halfway in shock and horrifically close to tears.

They took Luke’s work truck home. He’d figure out getting his car from Colby’s day care later. Everything remotely practical or requiring any rational thought just had to be…later.

It was Syrus who held Colby on his lap for the short drive this time, and Colby—fed and warm and comforted by familiar faces—was just as delighted by the freedom from his car seat as he’d been before. It would mean at least a week of him insisting he could ride up front every time they got in a car, Luke already knew. But oh the fuck well. There were worse problems to be had.

Syrus finally left Luke’s side when it was time to put Colby down. He veered off to Luke’s room, presumably to change into something that was more than a knotted blanket. Luke meanwhile got himself and his son changed and settled. It was a little early for Colby’s nap, but with the day he’d had, Colby was more than ready.

Luke kept catching himself mumbling reassuring nonsense in between their story time, just like he’d done on the boat. (“What an adventure we had! Wasn’t that fun?”)

He could only be grateful Colby was too young to call him out on his bullshit.