Arming the spear gun, Marcus held up three fingers, and then pointed to the surface. Beka shook her head frantically, attracting the great white back in her direction. Its huge head moved back and forth between them, hesitating, and Marcus held up three fingers again, gesturing at her bleeding leg. Reluctantly, she nodded, and braced herself against the rock.
He aimed the spear gun at the shark, released the safety, and held up one finger, then two, then a third. As Beka launched herself toward the surface, swimming as rapidly as she could, Marcus moved even closer to the shark and fired the spear directly into its dark and malevolent eye. It gave a massive heave, thrashing around in a frenzied dance of teeth and fins and tail, spiraling down toward the bottom of the ocean. In the twilight depths, gray-black blood stained the water.
Once Marcus was sure the shark wasn’t coming after them, he eeled his way to the surface, the muscles in his thighs burning as he pushed himself to his limits. Beka clung to the side of the dinghy, taking great gasps of air, a look of almost comic relief lighting up her face as he broke through next to her. He tossed the spear gun carefully into the bottom of the boat, and then lifted her in after it. Adrenaline got him out of the water almost without effort, although once they were both in and safe, he could feel the aftereffects pulsing through his system. Battle had always been like that—the rush, followed by the backlash.
His heart threatened to burst through his rib cage as he gazed at Beka’s bleeding leg. Closer examination showed him that the gash was deep but clean, and the shark seemed to have missed anything vital. They’d been lucky. Very, very lucky.
“Well, that was an adventure,” Beka said in a shaky voice as he pulled out the first aid kit and started to bandage her leg, brushing aside her protest as he cut through the expensive wet suit to expose the wound. The suit was ruined anyway. “Oh, and by the way, thanks for saving my life.”
“No problem,” Marcus said, keeping his tone casual and his eyes focused on her injury, so she wouldn’t see the emotion he couldn’t quite keep off his face. “All part of the friendly service. But don’t be surprised if my father adds on an extra charge.”
“It’s a good thing we went to that barbeque last night,” she said with an unsteady laugh. “I’m not sure I’ll be doing a lot of dancing in the near future.”
Marcus tucked the end of the bandage securely into place and reached for the radio to call his da to turn the Serpent around and come get them. But first, he gave in to irresistible impulse and kissed Beka so hard their teeth clashed.
“Just so long as you save a dance for me,” he said. “I’ll wait as long as it takes.”
*
MARCUS INSISTED ON driving her home, even though she told him—repeatedly—that she was perfectly fine. The extensive first aid kit aboard the Wily Serpent had done a perfectly good job of taking care of the gash, which looked worse than it was, and she’d refused to go to a hospital to have it looked at. As a Baba Yaga, she healed considerably faster than most Humans, and once she was able to put some of Barbara’s supercharged herbal wound cream on it, it would vanish in no time.
Of course, Marcus’s father had griped about their mishap interrupting his fishing, and threatened to bill her for the loss. But since the nets were empty, it looked like the fish had gone elsewhere again anyway. Beka thought guiltily of her argument with Kesh and hoped it wasn’t her fault. Marcus Senior still looked tired and wan, and he was due for another chemo session later that week, so he didn’t give more than a token protest when Marcus suggested that they should take the ship back in to shore.
Back at the bus, Marcus stowed her gear while she went inside, barely limping at all.
“What the hell happened to you?” Chewie barked.
“Nothing. I just got a little nibbled on by a shark,” Beka said, sinking down on the futon and running her hands through his soft fur.
“Nibbled on by a shark doesn’t sound like nothing,” Chewie said. “In fact, it sounds like a lot of something. I don’t like it.”
“Well, to be honest, I didn’t like it much either,” Beka said. “Remind me not to repeat the experience.” She wondered if she should mention the gold chain she thought she saw the shark wearing—but she had to have imagined it in the heat of the moment.
Marcus came up the stairs into the bus, shaking his head. “You know, it sounds for all the world like the two of you are actually having a conversation. Too bad I don’t speak Dog.”
“I was just explaining to Chewie what a hero you are,” she said. “He saved my life,” she told Chewie. “Shot the shark with a spear gun so I could get away.”
“Aw, shucks, ma’am, it weren’t nothin’,” Marcus said with a smile, coming to sit down next to Beka.
Chewie made a gagging noise. “I don’t think I can take any more of this,” he said, giving Beka an affectionate swipe with his tongue before heaving himself up in a mass of dark fur and dust motes. “I’m going to go out and pee on something.” He padded over and opened the door with his teeth, leaving it to Beka to get up and shut it, grateful that Marcus couldn’t actually understand him.