She was feeling a bit out of sorts anyway, tired and achy and a little nauseous, so she wasn’t moving quite as rapidly as she usually did. But being out on the water would make her feel better. It always did. Marcus or no Marcus.
A quick tug pulled the zipper on her wet suit the rest of the way closed, and she tucked her board under one arm as she headed over the damp, gritty sand toward the water’s edge. Time to get wet.
“Hey, wait up!”
Beka swiveled around to see Marcus loping toward her from the road, her spare board held under one muscular arm, and his tight wet suit molded to his tall, broad figure like a second skin. Her pulse sped up as if she were already riding the waves, and she couldn’t help the wide grin that spread across her face.
“I thought you weren’t coming,” she said as he came up to her.
Marcus looked unusually flustered, his wavy hair curling every which way and his breathing rapid, as though he had run to catch up. “Sorry,” he said, “I meant to get to your place earlier, but my da was having one of his bad mornings, and then we got into a fight when I insisted he wait for me to get back before taking the boat out.”
He paused to take a deep breath and gave her a crooked smile. “And I confess, I hadn’t really made up my mind whether or not I was going to come, right up until the last minute.”
Beka was just glad he was there, with a depth of feeling she chose not to look at too closely. “I see you found the board all right.” She’d taken it out in case he showed up, and then just walked away and left it leaning up against the bus when he hadn’t.
His hazel eyes twinkled, green and brown, with a hint of copper. “Your dog said it was okay if I borrowed it.”
Beka stiffened in shock. “Chewie talked to you?” She was going to kill that dragon.
Marcus let out a laugh, one of the first she’d heard from him. He already seemed more relaxed than usual, despite the dustup with his father, so maybe her plan was working.
“Well, he nudged the board with his nose and it fell on me. I took that as permission.” Marcus shook his head. “I wasn’t sure if he was supposed to be out, loose like that. Aren’t you worried about him running away, or someone stealing him?”
Whew. “Uh, no, not really,” she said. Chewie took his duties as guardian for the Water of Life and Death seriously; he rarely strayed far from the bus, even though the magical elixir was well hidden in a secret compartment, and locked behind a powerful spell to boot. He occasionally came for a brief romp in the water he loved so much, but he would never go far, or be away for long. Still, she couldn’t exactly tell Marcus that.
“He’s very well trained,” she said, figuring it wasn’t a lie if she didn’t specify at what. “And you’ve seen him—do you actually think anyone could take him if he didn’t want to go?” Marcus probably weighed at least 225 pounds, although all of it was lean muscle, without an extra ounce of fat. But Chewie outweighed him by twenty or thirty pounds, even so. And, of course, he was a damned dragon. But she couldn’t say that either.
The former Marine gave her a wry look. “You’ve got a point there. I was just happy he let me take the board without so much as barking at me.” He hefted the surfboard meaningfully. “Shall we see if I remember any of the things I used to know? I hope I don’t make an ass out of myself. It’s been a long time.”
Beka smiled up at him. “Don’t worry; it’s just like falling off a bike.”
“I was afraid you were going to say that,” he said, but he grinned at her all the same as they paced down to the surf.
* * *
MARCUS COULDN’T REMEMBER the last time he’d felt this good. Years, probably. For once, he wasn’t looking over his shoulder for the enemy to sneak up on him, or fretting about his da, or trying to figure out what the hell he was going to do with his life next. The early morning sun filled the sky with light, and the reckless waves pounded away all the stray thoughts until there was only water and man and board, in perfect balance.
Or not, he thought, as an unexpected breaker surged sideways and knocked him off the board. Laughing, he pulled himself back to the surface, spitting out salty brine and heaving himself back up again. He’d never admit it to Beka, but this had been a brilliant idea.
He’d been afraid that his brother’s ghost would haunt him, out here in the misty spray, but instead, it was almost as though he could feel Kyle’s spirit joined with his, like an echo of kinder days, colored blue-green like the water, and golden like the sun-touched clouds overhead.