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  It wore her out. Dragging her limbs, she emptied the waste basket she’d used to catch her throw-up down the toilet. With one bottle of water and one of fruit smoothie to replace what she lost during her meltdown, she went out to doze by her pool. She wanted to hear the world, to know it went on turning for her, if she woke up confused again.

  Not long after she settled in her lawn chair, she heard the others arrive home, contemplated getting up to greet them, and decided to stay put.

  “Harsha?”

  “Out here.” Her vocal cords felt scratchy.

  Seraph poked her head out the door. “You okay?”

  Harsha lifted a thumb to indicate all’s well without talking.

  “Is it all right if I teach Maura to play Dance Dance Revolution?”

  “If you break it, you buy it.”

  “Okay.”

  Videogame cacophony ensued. Zeeb, wearing swim trunks and displaying his torso in all its shimmering, hirsute glory, joined her on the patio. To her surprise, she found the repulsion she’d felt the first time she saw his hairy chest replaced by appreciation. He set a delicate blown-glass vase with a single white rosebud in it and a box of Turkish Delight on the ground beside her before dragging a lounge chair over next to hers.

  “What’re those for?”

  “Just because.” He pointed to her smoothie. “Mind if I taste it?”

  “Be my guest.”

  He took a sip, swished it in his mouth before he swallowed, and set the cup down. “Fruity.”

  Harsha watched the process, curious why the carnivore was suddenly showing an interest in sweets. She wanted to ask what Josh had said to him. The space of silence between them stretched out until she squirmed. She needed to know what Josh said.

  Afraid of the answer, she asked, “What did Josh want to tell you?”

  Zeeb looked away.

  That bad . Whatever Josh told him, it contained adequate detail to make Zeeb uncomfortable around her. The flower and candy must be an attempt to return their relationship to a comfortable status.

  She picked up the rosebud and sniffed it. The fragrance lacked oomph. Turning the vase to see it at all angles, she inspected the work. “It’s pretty. Thank you.”

  A shrug. She set down the vase, picked up the candy, and held it out to him. He waved away the offer. She selected one, put down the box, and used the time it took her to eat to decide what to say.

  “I know he can be obnoxious, but he was my only real friend for years. Whatever he said…” She stared at her pool instead of making eye contact. “I’m sorry.”

  “I’m not.” His fingers brushed hers where their hands hung between their chairs.

  Harsha stared at his hand, neither clasping it nor moving away. Her heart beat faster and oxygen eluded her. She held her breath, surprised by the strength of her reaction to the simple gesture. It frightened her.

  In an attempt to hide it, she smirked and joked, “Are you planning on testing Josh’s claim regarding my enthusiasm?” She hoped it came out as casual and self-deprecating as she wanted it to sound.

  Zeeb smirked back. “I’m not planning on it, no.” With a serious expression, he shifted to face her. “My mom invited you to come stay with us. Why did you turn her down?”

  Harsha took a long sip of her smoothie to give herself time to think about her response. Before she prepared her arsenal of logic to shoot down sentimental arguments, he went on.

  “Josh asked me to promise to take care of you.”

  Her heart skipped a beat. “Did you?”

  His fingers closed around her hand. “Dad’s a doctor and no one is more qualified to be your caregiver than Mom. The transition from here to my house will be easier on Maura if it happens while you’re alive. Seraph lives with us half the year, so you’ll have a friend nearby. There are six bedrooms, so space is not an issue. If it bothers you….” He looked out at the pool. “I’ll make myself scarce when it gets really bad.”

  Ylva told him . She remembered the way Ylva looked at her the night before she left Alaska, that strange feeling of having challenged the alpha-female. She felt betrayed, even though she hadn’t sworn Ylva to secrecy. It seemed like the kind of secret a woman should instinctively know to keep for another woman.

  “Does that take care of most of your objections?”

  “Everything is arranged at the nursing home.”

  “One phone call will fix that.”

  She clenched her jaw shut and stared at her toes.

  “We’ll even bring Josh up for a visit, if you want.”

  That got her. “Please, please don’t.” Of course, if he was distracted … “Unless you plan on throwing him to your female werewolves as a decoy. That would be okay.”

  Zeeb laughed. “So, is that a yes?”

  Not one, but several people, wanted to take care of her. It overwhelmed her. She felt elated, ashamed, thankful, humiliated.... The recent downpour left her without the tears to alleviate the stress of conflicting emotions, or the energy to stuff them. A headache sprang up instead.

  “You don’t know what it’s like. It’s not easy. It’s a lot of work. Sick people get stubborn and grumpy, or dependent and whiny, and there are embarrassing matters.” Memories of her mother’s and Ami’s last days sharpened the headache. “Not to mention the sick smell.”

  “Stop.” Zeeb cupped her cheek in his free hand and turned her to face him. “You’re right. I have no clue. But I’d rather deal with all of it than leave you to deal with it alone. So would Seraph and Maura. So would Dad and Mom. Even your jerk-faced gorilla friend wants to help.”

  Grasping at the sliver of humor in a desperate attempt to calm down before the ache turned to throbbing, Harsha laughed. “Ah ha! You admit you think he’s a jerk.”

  Zeeb released her face to splay his fingers and jiggle his hand in the air. “He’s blunt, but he’s not the point. The point is, you don’t have to do this alone, and no one wants you to. Let us take care of you.”

  Harsha watched as soft breezes played across the surface of her pool. It seemed like yesterday Jason had squeezed the breath out of her and assured her he intended to give her all the care she once gave him. That had been all she needed. One person to look after her. Now, six people overwhelmed her with their compassion. Her hand nestled in Zeeb’s palm. The warmth and simple comfort of physical contact with another person did more to change her mind than his arguments.

  “All right.”

  Chapter 29

  Standing on the dock, leaning against Maura, Harsha stared at the repurposed fishing boat about to take her off the coast of Italy in search of merfolk. A cool ocean breeze swept across her, bringing with it the pungent scent of stale fish mingled with salt air. The captain and his crew, all local men, bustled around the deck, their chatter reminding her of an Italian family she’d known in Chicago. A feeling halfway between nervousness and exhilaration fluttered in her belly while she watched.

  Zeeb squeezed between her and Maura and looped an arm around her waist to support her. “Okay?”

  “Yes, fine. You?”

  Maura shook her head. Zeeb shuddered. “Let’s get on the boat and be off before Maura and I can change our minds.”

  He took Maura’s arm and propelled them up the gangplank. Whether he meant to help them or himself, Harsha wasn’t sure. Whatever he intended, they embarked together. Seraph, her lips quirked in amusement, moseyed after them, hands in the pockets of her long skirt.

  Zeeb wasted no time going below deck to the large cabin he shared with the all-male crew. Maura followed him, muttering in Irish. Harsha doubted the crewmen would allow a teenage girl to stay in their cabin for long, but she let Maura go for the time being. She wanted to see the cast-off. Seraph came to stand beside her. They leaned over the railing together, hands clasped in shared excitement.

  “Nervous?” Seraph asked.

  “On so many levels.”

  Seraph laughed and gave Harsha’s hand a little squeeze.

 
Harsha glanced over her shoulder toward the door that led to the area below the deck. “Do you think Maura will be all right? She looks so lost.”

  “She probably feels lost. The sea should be her home, but it’s not.”

  “I tried taking her to the beach once. She cried the whole time. She refused outright to get into my pool—I think the smell of the chemicals bothered her—and I can only get her to shower two or three times a week.” Harsha shook her head. “I was so eager for one last chance at a cure, but now I wonder if I made the wrong decision dragging her through this.”

  “She’d rather be here with you than anywhere else. We can always turn back if it gets bad.”

  Harsha watched the water lap the sides of the boat and listened to the captain and his crew. All the scientific equipment and supplies to last the month nestled safely in their respective holding places. All that remained was to untie the ropes holding them. A crewman unlashed the moorings and, with a long pole, pushed the boat away from the dock. It slipped away and the engines kicked in. The process felt both thrilling and anticlimactic.

  Kaito, a young Japanese-American with well-tanned skin and a buzz-cut, their pet scientist, as Seraph called him, joined them. “I can’t tell you how much I appreciate this opportunity, Ms. Mooreland.” He took Harsha’s hand and pumped her arm up and down in manic enthusiasm.

  Although he stood eye-level with her, his energy and strength outmatched hers by a wide margin. Smiling to avoid hurting his feelings, she pried his fingers off, too late to prevent bruises. “It’s my pleasure.”

  He looked up at Seraph, took her hand, and repeated the process. “And you must be her friend, Sir Uf. We talked on the phone, remember?”

  Seraph raised her brows and half-smiled. “Yes. I remember.”

  Kaito moved his free hand to Seraph’s elbow. “I enjoyed those conversations. Is it okay if I call you…” he waggled his brows… “Syrup?” Then he yelped and jumped back, shaking his hands and blowing on them.

  “No, and don’t call me anything else you think is cutesy either.”

  Kaito blew on his hand. “Nifty trick, burning me like that. Is it some kind of special lotion?” He made to grab Seraph’s hand, the way a child grabs a toy that catches his attention.

  Seraph dodged. “I’ll make a deal with you. You can analyze my hand when you discover mermaids.”

  Kaito looked to Harsha, one brow raised. She made a show of winking.

  “Oh, right.” Laughing, he backed a couple steps. “Sorry. I’m fascinated by biochemistry. That’s why I’m after the Electrona risso . Imagine what we can learn from creatures that create their own light and can dive into depths where the pressure and cold forbid most species. If we study them, it could help us solve the energy crisis, survive space travel, colonize other planets! The possibilities are limitless.”

  Harsha felt a rush of sympathetic excitement while Kaito warmed to his subject. She understood little of his lecture, but she appreciated his enthusiasm and listened. Seraph leaned over the side of the boat and watched the water. Five minutes into Kaito’s talk, she whispered, “The fish is a front. What he wants is to test his sub.”

  Harsha leaned close to whisper out the side of her mouth. “Which is why we hired him. Let’s try to keep him happy and ignorant until we get further out.”

  Seraph gave no answer. Harsha went back to listening while Kaito expounded on the virtues of the Electrona risso , better known as the chubby flashlight fish. He talked for an hour before the first mate fetched him to handle a concern of the captain’s. Harsha wanted to stay on the deck, watching the sea, but a crewman came to fetch her, too, explaining that Maura refused to leave Zeeb except with her.

  The cabin Harsha, Maura, and Seraph shared, while cramped, included its own bathroom, complete with enclosed shower. Maura informed them the shower in the larger men’s cabin stood open to observation.

  Harsha rearranged items in the tiny drawer allotted to her and wrinkled her nose. “Poor Zeeb.”

  “He doesn’t care.” Seraph hung a skirt in their tiny closet. “He’s modest around you because you’re so human, but he walks around naked when he can get away with it.”

  Harsha’s mind jumped to the memory of shirtless Zeeb fumbling with his belt buckle in preparation to change for Nanny. Time for a subject change . “How’d you find this crew? Are any of them hiders?”

  “No.” Seraph unfolded her berth to sit down. “But the captain is married to a shape-shifter. Ralph found him through a friend of a friend of a friend. He’s been leading small scientific expeditions with this crew for a while. They have an ‘ask no awkward questions, remember no inconvenient details’ policy. Only our pet scientist is clueless.”

  “That has to change pretty soon. I wonder ”

  Someone pounded on the door.

  “Who’s there?”

  “Me.” Zeeb lurched into the room as soon as Harsha opened the door. “Oh, good.” He stumbled past her into Seraph’s berth. “Beds.”

  Seraph clamped both of her hands to the sides of her face in a good impression of The Scream by Munch. “Augh! Zeeb, you’re on my hoard. Get off my hoard, get off my hoard, get off my hoard!” She grew louder and squeakier with each word until she screeched the last. Her face contorted into an ugly scowl and puffs of smoke escaped her nostrils. With her fingers hooked like claws ready to tear prey, she surged forward.

  Zeeb rolled off the bed just in time to avoid getting her nails in his eyes and groaned when he hit the floor.

  Immediately, Seraph’s face lost its feral quality. She turned her attack into a lunge for her mattress and dug under it, jabbering all the time, “Sorry, sorry. So sorry. I’m sorry.”

  It all happened so fast, Harsha didn’t have time to be afraid of Seraph or for Zeeb, and she couldn’t tell whether Seraph was apologizing to Zeeb or the small object she now clutched with both hands. Instead, she stared at the scene wondering what in the world had just happened.

  Before she could ask, Zeeb dragged himself up to hands and knees and lifted tragic puppy-eyes to her. “Harsha?”

  “Oh! Sure.” She unfolded her berth and stepped out of his way.

  He pulled himself onto her berth, groaning.

  “Are…” She glanced at Maura, to be sure the girl hadn’t been scared by that odd exchange. Maura looked wary, but not afraid. Satisfied, she looked back and forth between Seraph and Zeeb. “Are you two okay?”

  Zeeb just moaned, but Seraph tucked her hoard —Harsha couldn’t see what it was, but she caught a golden glimmer—back under her mattress and answered, “Yes. Sorry. Just a little instinct-over-sense moment, there.” She looked up at Harsha and Maura, then looked around the room as if she wanted to look at anything but her friends. “Not a very big space, is it?”

  Harsha itched to ask more about what happened, but Seraph appeared embarrassed. Seraph had brought a bit of treasure with her, obviously, and the dragonish impulse to protect it must have overridden her reason. That was enough information for now. Except…

  Did that ever happen while we were camping? How close did I come to being a dragon snack?

  She opened her mouth, took a breath, and then thought better of it. She could ask Zeeb about it later, when it wouldn’t cause Seraph further discomfiture. Besides, Zeeb was convulsing on her berth, his teeth clenched, and making retching noises. It seemed like a more pressing matter. She ducked into the tiny bathroom to grab the empty trash can. “Here. Use this.”

  Maura hopped down from the berth over Harsha’s to smooth Zeeb’s forehead. “What’s wrong, Dad?”

  He responded by throwing up in the trashcan.

  “Some people don’t get along with the sea,” Harsha answered for him. “Zeeb is one of them.”

  Maura stuck out her lip and nodded. “Me, too.”

  He threw up again.

  “But different.” Maura swallowed hard and looked like she might join Zeeb in illness.

  Seraph wrinkled her nose and looked doubtful. With the smell
of vomit filling her cabin, Harsha guessed her friends’ sensitive sniffers threatened to make them as miserable as Zeeb. She opened the porthole. Her own stomach churned in response to the odor, but she knew how to deal with it. “Why don’t you two explore the boat for a while. I’ll take care of Zeeb.”

  “Thank you.” Seraph looped an arm around Maura. “Come on, before we join him.”

  Zeeb threw up a third time as Seraph and Maura made a hasty retreat. Harsha emptied the trashcan down the toilet and returned it to him in time to catch another round of vomit. With a deep sigh, she sat on the edge of Seraph’s berth. The situation brought up too many memories. Unlike happy moments or last words, which uplifted and moved her to bittersweet tears, these memories settled on her shoulders like an old, familiar weight.

  Zeeb started to speak, threw up, and ended with a groan. Harsha alternated between wiping his face with a cool washcloth and emptying the can until he fell asleep. She pulled out her puzzle book and waited in case he woke up. With the light off to make it easier for him to nap, she traveled across the room with the porthole’s circle of sunshine and ended up seated on the floor next to the berth Zeeb occupied.

  “Wasn’t I supposed to take care of you?”

  Harsha bounced, startled. She set aside her puzzle and swiveled to face him. “How are you? Do you want some water?”

  Zeeb groaned and squeezed his eyes shut.

  “Here.” She stretched for her purse and pulled out a ginger drop. “This will help.”

  Zeeb let her put the candy in his mouth. She smoothed his forehead and turned back to her puzzle. His breathing deepened and she guessed he’d fallen back to sleep. Then he stroked the back of her head. He did it again. And again.

  She squinched one side of her face and turned. “What are you doing?”

  His eyes opened a sliver and one side of his lips lifted. “Petting you.”

  It took her a minute, but she understood. “Should I lick your face to get you to stop?”