Black Waters (Book 1 in the Songstress Trilogy), Page 2

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  Six hours later, Abby emerged at the surface. She’d stayed down longer than she would have liked. The sky was turning a dusky blue, and she knew the trawlers were out already, cutting across the choppy water with a perfect view of the shore.

  Her heart pounded as she swam toward the beach, gliding just below the surface so she could duck up for a peak whenever she felt the need. Each time she checked, no one was there. Just a scattering of gulls scratching patches of sand. Abby let the waves carry her in and gently deposit her on the shore. Come on feet, she thought as she hauled herself forward. This was always the tricky part, getting out of the water and drying off. She’d hidden her towel close today, a little too close because when she finally reached it, her tail flapping awkwardly in the waves, half of it was soaking wet. Damn it! she thought. Tide’s changed. You stayed under way too long. Still, it was dry enough to wipe off with. And, once that was done, her scales smoothed out and the odd little cramping feeling returned. Then she could walk.

  Abby stood and wrapped herself in the now soaking towel. It was light, too light to be caught on the beach. That would make the news for sure. But no one was around, which was a relief. Abby found her clothes, only slightly damp, they’d somehow fared better than her towel, and yanked them on. The cold was brutal now that she’d gone through the change. In the sea her body adjusted to the chill, but on land she was like everybody else. Her hands and feet were already turning blue, and she could barely button and zip her jeans. The November breeze rushed past her skin, cold and unyielding as the metallic sky. She briefly wondered if it was going to snow. “Come on,” she grumbled under her breath. She grabbed her coat and crammed her feet into her boots. “You’ve got to warm up. You have to go.”

  She knew this was a dangerous time. She was starting to get a little too cold. In just a few more minutes hypothermia would begin to set in. She had to get home, fast. Go, she thought, stumbling forward. Her house was only half a mile down the beach, but it felt like it was miles away. She pushed through the breath-stopping cold, allowing herself to turn back only once and glance at the place where the boat had been. And the girl. Abby told herself not think about it. She’d had to leave her. There was nothing she could have done. But was there? she wondered. She didn’t know. She chewed at her lip until blood pooled around her gums, then she pushed herself faster through the sand, aching to erase what she’d seen.