“Luce! I was afraid you were going to be too mad to come back! Wait, I’ll meet you at the beach, okay?” She caught just one quick glimpse of him, one flash of gold between the trees, before he was running. It was typical, Luce thought, that he was too full of himself to even give her a chance to say she didn’t want to see him again. Still, she dipped under and swirled toward the spot he’d mentioned before, the one tucked behind a boulder protruding steeply from the waves. Maybe, just maybe, he had something important to say to her? Even swimming slowly she’d been much faster than he was, and she waited with a nervous irritation, her tail curled against the pebble seafloor and her arms wrapped tight around her chest. The sky was a glassy violet sparked by the burning pallor of the stars.

Dorian broke through the branches, sliding so quickly that he fell onto his rear, and yanked off his shoes. Then, to Luce’s confusion, he splashed out to her and threw himself onto his knees, not caring how cold the water was or that his pants were getting soaked. But he didn’t kiss her. Instead he wrapped her head in both hands and pulled her cheek against his. She was saturated with the warmth of his skin, the sweetness of his touch, and all he did was hold her. His breath came rough in her ear as if he were struggling not to cry.

“Oh my God, Luce! I didn’t do it! I almost did, he almost talked me into it, and then I knew I couldn’t!”

She felt a single tear glide down where their faces pressed together and impulsively slipped her arms around him. All her fury at him was abruptly gone, but nothing he was saying made any sense.

“Dorian?” His fingers slid through her wet hair. “I don’t actually know what you’re talking about.” He tipped his head back a little and looked into her eyes.

“They took me to Anchorage. That’s why I wasn’t here last night. I didn’t have any choice, but at least . . .” He saw the confusion on her face. “Anchorage—that’s this human city, farther south—”

“I know what Anchorage is!” Now it was Dorian’s turn to look confused. “What I don’t understand is the part about someone taking you there. Why?”

“How can you? I mean, how can you know about—all this human stuff?” He gave a short laugh, and Luce didn’t answer. His wide ochre eyes stared at her; he still seemed half frantic, though he was starting to calm down. “Do you know about the FBI, too? They took me. I had to sit through getting questioned for two days, and I just got back.”