Ripple

Erik can get a hold of him. We fall onto the shore, and just as I take a ragged, deep breath of air, I hear Erik coming for me.

For us.

I whirl around, desperate for relief, and I see something. The one thing that could end this. Just as Erik drags me backward again, I slap my hand down on Cole’s belt. It nearly slips through my fingers, but then Cole manages to snag the buckle and flip it in my direction, and my fingers curl around the buttery leather.

I take in another breath, the biggest I can manage, as he pulls me under. Before he can wrap his arms around me, I twist, somehow managing to get behind him. He tries to turn and face me, but I wrap my legs around his waist. He’s so bulky they almost don’t hook on the other side, but all I can do is pray he doesn’t thrash too hard until I can get the belt around Erik’s neck.

As soon as the leather touches his skin, he knows. And he jerks and twists and outmuscles me, but somehow I just squeeze tighter with my legs and get the belt fed through the buckle.

Erik realizes what I’m doing and turns his attention to my legs, gripping each ankle painfully in one of his big hands. I think he could crush my bones with his grip. I ignore the pierce of pain as he untangles my legs from his waist. It’s too late for him.

I tighten the belt around Erik’s neck. I use both hands to hold the end, until I’m sure it’s as tight as it can go. And then I switch into offensive mode, hoping I have enough strength to do what comes next.

Erik thrashes like a prized bronco, but I manage to get my legs around his waist again when his focus is on the belt. I squeeze as hard as possible, then close my eyes and wait.

Wait to see who will die.

It goes on forever, or so it seems, my limbs trembling with the effort. Erik seems as strong as ever, thrashing, spinning, scraping me against the bottom of the lake. Whenever my head surfaces, I take in great gasping breaths, then tighten down on the belt again.

Twice, he plunges as deeply as possible, his body slamming me into the muddy bottom. I nearly open my mouth and let out the air that he’s trying to force from my lungs.

But I just keep holding on.

And then something changes. His struggles grow weaker, about the time my own air seems to be running out. But still I don’t let go. I open my eyes when he goes still, watch the eerie way his platinum hair floats out in front of me. My bare toes find the lake bottom, and I walk backward, dragging him, until finally my head breaks through the surface. I take a ragged breath, filling my screaming, aching lungs.

Water splashes around me as Cole grabs me by the waist and pulls me backward, still dragging Erik’s heavy body.

I don’t let him go until I’m out of the water and the three of us all fall backward. For a long silent moment, all we can do is rake in one heavy breath after another. My wet back presses against Cole’s chest, his ragged breathing matching mine.

But finally, I shift out of his embrace, pull my legs out from underneath Erik’s now still body, and let go of the belt still gripped in my aching fingers.

I’m afraid to look at him, but I have to know.

I crawl closer to Erik. His lips are blue, his skin clammy and white, unnatural. Although I want anything but to be close to him, I lean in, listen for him to take a breath, then feel for a pulse.

He’s really dead. I’ve really killed him.

I rock back on my heels and stare, unmoving, for much too long. Waiting for signs of life, waiting for answers as to what I should do now. But he doesn’t move.

“You had to do it,” Cole says. “He would have killed you. And me. Probably, Sienna.”

I swallow and nod, finally tearing my eyes away from Erik.

Rain begins to fall around us again, waking me. Water drips down Cole’s dark curls into his eyes. “What do we do with him now?”

Do with him? He’s dead. I glance over at him. At the large body sitting in the mud.

Oh. He means the body.

“I—” I start to speak, but I don’t know what I was going to say. What is there to say, really?

My eyes swim out of focus for a minute. “There’s a river right past that tree line.” I pause, the irony of sending Erik to the river isn’t lost on me. I continue, regardless. “It’s wide and deep. We can drag him over there, toss him in. It’ll carry him all the way to the ocean.”

Neither of us moves for a minute. “They’ll know he was strangled.”

“They’d never think it’s me. I’m half his size. They’ll have no evidence, no crime scene. How can they even identify him? He’s four hundred years old. Maybe he forged some records, but if they dig into it ... it won’t hold up.”

Cole just sits there for a long minute. “Okay, let’s do it.”

But neither of us gets up. Instead, we just sit there on the muddy shore as the rain grows heavier. We’re both already soaked anyway.

“How long have you been . . .?”

“A siren?”

He nods.

“I always felt drawn to the ocean, but the real pull didn’t start until my sixteenth birthday. The night—” I stop. “The night I swam with Steven.”

“Is he the only . . .?”

“Yes. Until tonight anyway. That’s why I call this lake mine. It’s the only way I can avoid killing anyone. I have to swim every night or I get sick, and I need somewhere no one can hear me sing. If someone hears me . . . they’ll walk right into the water.”

“Had to,” he says.

“What?”

“Past tense. Had to.”

I blink and stare at him, a lump growing in my throat. “What are you saying?”

“I don’t give a damn about all this. It might be what you are, but it’s not who you are.”

My mouth goes dry. “I killed someone. I killed two people. You need to think about this. Really process it and realize what you’re saying—”

“I know what I’m saying. And I love you.”

A tear trails down my cheek. Three words I thought I’d never hear from him.

It won’t take long to find out if they’re real.

Chapter Thirty-Two

On the way back to Cole’s house, I turn into Sienna’s driveway. Her house, pitch-black, stretches out in front of me. Her parents must be gone again. It seems like they’re always gone these days. I guess in some ways, Sienna is more alone than I am. I try to remember the last time I saw her parents, or even heard her mention them, but I can’t.

I hope she’s okay right now, in that big dark house.

I turn and look at Cole. “Can you . . . can you wait out here? I think I need to do this on my own. I owe her that much.”

He nods and kisses me on the forehead, then gives my hand a squeeze. “Good luck.”

I take in a big gulp of air. “Thanks. I’ll need it.”

I climb out of my car, leaving it running with the heat cranked. Cole’s hair is still wet, matted to his forehead, and we’re both exhausted. But it didn’t seem right to go home without seeing Sienna, making sure she made it back okay.

I walk to the front door, pausing for a second to glance back at Cole, hoping for a reassuring smile, but it’s hard to see more than his shadow behind the glass. I turn back to the front door and knock, fidgeting as I stand