I’ve already heard what you have to say to me, Luce thought. Evil, sick, inhuman . . . She felt a sarcastic impulse to point out to him that in some circles “inhuman” would be considered a compliment. Now he was peering over the edge as if he was evaluating his chances of making it down that precipitous slope of loose, blade-sharp scree without breaking his neck.

His chances weren’t good. But what if he tried it anyway?

He turned his gaze back on her, hard and taunting. Luce was reminded of the way he’d looked at her right before he’d dived off the rail of the buckling cruise ship. She had to vanish. Get away from this place, before the sight of her goaded him to do something idiotic.

“If you don’t get over here and talk to me,” he announced harshly, “then I’m coming after you!”

Luce dove. It had to be an empty threat, she told herself. It had to be. He’d seen at first hand how incredibly fast she could swim, after all. No matter what he said, he’d have to realize the absurdity of trying to catch her in the water. She swooped down through dim regions at the base of the cliff, weaving among loose boulders palely crusted in barnacles. She wasn’t about to go far, though. She had to find a spot where she could slip up and watch him unseen, just in case . . .

Just in case he needed her help. But she shouldn’t even want to help him, Luce told herself. Why should she feel that saving him once bound her to him, obligated her to rescue him again even if he did something that was purely self-destructive? He’d said himself that he’d prefer to be dead.

A square of pitching moonlight above showed the way to a narrow opening between two straight planes of stone. Luce skimmed her way into it, the rocks pressing in on her shoulders, and slipped her face halfway into the air so that the water still played around her mouth. She looked carefully up and saw him from behind now. He was still leaning out but not quite as far. His head was pivoting back and forth as he scanned the waves, searching for her. But she’d been right. He hadn’t tried to make it down to the water. Luce strained to repress a gasp of relief.

“Fine. You’re still hanging around listening, aren’t you?” Luce was irritated with him for guessing right and also with herself for being so predictable. “I’ll be back. Same time tomorrow. You wouldn’t have come this close if you weren’t at least curious about me.” He kicked at the cliff’s rim, sending a small avalanche clattering down into the water. Dark rocks split the golden film of moonlight. “Or did you just want to make sure I’m still suffering?”