Raging Sea (Undertow, #2)

There’s not a lot of thought that goes into what happens next. My hand explodes with power, I hear a pipe calling out to me behind this dumb boy’s head, and I cause it to crack open. The water breaks through the wall, grabs him around the neck, and slams him to the floor.

Bex is shouting something at me, but I don’t really hear it with all the rage in my ears. I am sick of people hurting the ones I love. I’m not going to take it anymore, especially not from some street rat with a face full of piercings. I’m going to fight back from now on!

“What is wrong with you?” Bex says, stepping between me and my newfound punching bag. “Let him go!”

“He doesn’t get to touch you!” I shout.

“He didn’t do anything wrong!” Bex cries.

It takes me a second to process what she said, but when I do, I turn off the glove.

“Then why are you crying?”

She looks at me with such disdain that I feel myself take a step back.

“I know that you want to make everything stop hurting,” I say. “But this isn’t the way. He would be sad if he knew what you were doing.”

“Shadow is not here, Lyric. He left me,” she cries.

“He didn’t leave you—”

“He left me. He’s gone. Just like my father and Tammy.”

“You don’t know if Tammy’s—”

“She’s dead, Lyric. That’s one of the only two options a person has when they get close to me. They either walk out or die—either way, ‘See you later!’” she rages.

“C’mon, I’ll get you cleaned up,” I say.

“Dead people don’t get to tell me what to do!”

“I’m not dead!” I shout.

“You will be.”

“What is going on in here?” Malik cries as he barges into the room. People have gathered in the doorway to watch our fight. Many of them are staring at me in complete terror. They saw me turn my glove on Duck, and they know who and what I am.

“Bex, we need to go.”

“Get away from me, Lyric!” she shouts, and something in her eyes tells me she means forever.

This is it. It’s the perfect time to grab my stuff, find Arcade, and leave. She’s angry at me, and I will always hate myself for ditching, but it’s all laid out for me to go.

“Fine,” I say, because I can’t find any words that explain everything I’m feeling. I turn and push my way through the crowd.

“Are you okay?” Lucas asks, bounding up the steps to meet me.

I can’t talk. I want to be outside. This building is too crowded with ugly feelings, and the crowd is following me. Malik is with them. He hurries behind me with my pack in his hands.

“You need to go,” he says.

“We’re leaving right now,” I say.

He tosses me the pack, and it’s empty. Every single thing I took from the Piggly Wiggly is gone. There’s also something else missing.

“Where’s my phone?”

“What phone?” Malik asks.

“My phone. Where is it?” I shout, digging deeper into nothing. The power cord is missing too.

“I didn’t take your phone,” he says as he backs away.

“Someone stole it!” I cry. “I need that phone.”

“You gotta keep an eye on your stuff,” Malik lectures.

“My life is on it,” I cry as the pictures of my parents and Fathom fly by in my imagination. Every picture of Bex is on it too. “I’m not leaving without it.”

“Go, or I will make you go,” he threatens.

“You challenge her,” Arcade snarls as she appears at the top of the steps. “Please, amuse me by showing me exactly how you plan to make us go anywhere.”

“Arcade, it’s fine,” I beg, stepping in between them. “We don’t have time for this.”

Arcade shoves me aside.

“This is your house and it is full of thieves,” she says, pressing her face close to his. “Bring her property to me, or you will pay for the crime yourself.”

“I don’t have her stupid phone!” he bellows.

“Everyone just calm down,” Lucas says, leading me down the steps. Arcade reluctantly follows but only after I beg her. “Where did you see the phone last?”

“I thought I had it on me when I fell asleep. Would one of these people sneak in and take it?”

“These are desperate people, but they’re good, too,” he says. I doubt it. “You had a lot to drink. Let’s go down to the auditorium and look under the seats.”

“If you call it, I’ll hear the ring,” I explain when we reach the first floor.

“You don’t have your phone turned on, do you?” he stammers.

“Yeah, of course.”

“Lyric, phones can be tracked!”

“Only if I make a call,” I argue.

“There’s a GPS built into smartphones so police can find you if you’re having an emergency, whether you call or not,” he cries. “Didn’t you say you were being followed? If that’s true, they know exactly where you are right now.”

Malik rushes down the stairs, his eyes crazed and aggressive.

“You’re one of those mermaid freaks!” he shouts at me.

Before I can stop her, she ejects her blades. Screams fill the room, and people fall over themselves trying to put distance between us and them.

Arcade’s arm slashes through the air, and suddenly a thin trail of blood drips down Malik’s face. She only nicked him, but there’s a lot of blood.