This overwhelmed her.
Filled her with something amazing, a glorious joyousness. A quiet soft joy.
It was novel, the same as she had never tasted caviar or worn gold jewelry, never ever had she been kissed awake when she fell asleep beside a man. Never played a video game, or drunk champagne.
Snuggling was new and enchanting.
He loved enfolding her in his arms while they lay on the sofa or bed, with a movie running on the TV or Beethoven playing. A few times it was Shakespeare – Wolfgang had decided her education on the arts was abysmal.
A few times, tears had sneaked from her eyes and silently lipped the lids, to wander off and trickle down her face.
And every night she would watch him sleep from underwater in the pool.
When did like progress to something greater?
She did not know and wished it never would. Or hadn’t. She knew nothing of love.
Her loneliness had been bad enough without memories of something… better.
The Ravening was not on her but the twinges of it poked her, beckoning her with bloody, come-soaked fingers. It was in her nature. And, after all, death might be the best answer for her.
She’d been going to anyway.
Each night he slept sprawled out, probably snoring, and sometimes with his eyelids flickering as if he dreamed. She pressed her face to the glass of the pool and watched. The swirls of water made him seem unattainable and a being from another mystical world.
The twinges grew, despite her knowledge of what was normal. It should not be here.
Not yet. It was too soon.
Perhaps her separation from the ocean had effects she knew nothing of?
The twinges strengthened.
And so the night came when she begged him. “It’s time. You must let me go.”
They lay on a blanket on the grass beside the pool. The grass strip was only along one side but the soil beneath was soft. There had been rain the day before.
She wasn’t facing him, and she had said it quietly, because she had to tell him but hated what it meant.
This was a starry night, one where all the twinkling above surpassed any sky in her memory. She wore a little, frothy pink dress and was praying she would not shift.
“Low pollution tonight and no clouds,” Wolfgang told her, caressing her hair. “The reason for the stars being bright.”
“Oh. I see.”
She breathed in. “Did you hear what I said?”
“I did. The answer is no, Raffaela.” He lifted his head.
She was nestled into his shoulder and chest, and his arm lay across her. He brought his hand up to angle her head a little toward him, until their eyes met, a gentle meeting as she gazed up at him.
By now, she trusted him enough not to be alarmed by the denial. Besides, he could do nothing to her that she would not do to herself.
“If you don’t, I fear I will kill you. The Ravening comes.”
“How soon?” His brow creased.
“I cannot be sure, but I can feel it. Here.” She laid her hand over her heart then on her stomach. “We both know your experiments only let me walk about in your house. Though I do enjoy the effects, I cannot go elsewhere.”
He said nothing.
“Wolfgang.”
“I will not release you.”
“But if you do not—”
“I won’t fucking do it,” he snarled. Then he shut his eyes, swallowed. “I can’t.”
“Release me, please. I will come back to you.”
“I can’t! You’re right. I am addicted to you. This is all so wrong.” His voice dropped in tone, became a ragged whisper. “How can I keep you when I’m fucking myself to death?” He laughed. “Stupid.”
She found his hand, fondled it. What was the answer?
“How can you ever walk among men? You’d draw them. They’d die in your flames like dumb moths.”
“Wet mermaid flames?” she said, teasing him but also forlorn.
“Yeah. Those. I have thought on this. There is another possibility, though I should get your consent before I try it.”
She pulled away from him, turned over. “What is this?”
“A brain probe. If, by surgery, a probe were to be implanted, we could trickle small amounts of electricity into you…”
Her mouth had fallen open.
“They do it to stop seizures. Pick the right spot and it should cause arousal, which… Okay. I can see it’s a no, for now.” He searched her face.
“It is a no. As in forever a no.”
“Hmmm.” He flopped onto his back. “Let’s look at the stars awhile. Instead of me talking brain surgery.”
If she hadn’t thought him serious…
A breeze whistled across her ears and stirred his hair. A night bird made strange sounds from the line of pine trees that shielded the front of his property. And the sea, the sea murmured to her, calling her. The smell of salt and fish never left the air.
Raffaela held up her hands and stared at how they blocked the stars. She felt the suck and surging pull of the ocean that she had refused to acknowledge. It had always been there but had been less palpable. Now, it tugged at every fragment of her body. The ocean knew she was never gone, that she belonged in the depths and chasms, in the frolicking waves, and it was calling her home.
The sea was in her blood. She could not survive for much longer without swimming in the waters that were a true part of the immensity of the ocean.
Hence, the Ravening came early.
“I am sorry. My solution is a bad one.” He
