Page 4

Chapter 2

Ihesitate at the doorway of the dim bar. Laughter, pool balls colliding, and a gritty love song sound from inside. I can smell the alcohol from here.

Bash turns to me. “What’s the matter?”

I remind myself there aren’t any age limits on drinking under the ocean and try to smile at him. “Just thinking about how different things are here.”

He waves to the bartender—a guy with one eye and a black bandanna over his long hair. Then Bash leads Halen and me to a booth with a view of the karaoke stage. The woman singing her heart out is slightly off-key but not bad.

Once Halen and I are sitting, Bash nods to the bartender. “I’m going to order for us.”

“We can pick out our own food.” Halen tilts her head and lifts a brow.

He gives half a grin. “Trust me on this.”

She shrugs. “You payin’?”

“Yeah.”

“Order away.” She turns to me. “You should totally sing. Put that poor girl out of her misery.”

“She’s not that bad.”

Then the singer hits such a high note it makes the mic squeal, and half the people groan or cover their ears.

Halen gives me a knowing look. “See? You and Bash sing so much better.”

I shrug. “I’m not really in the mood.”

“That’s the point. Singing will help you feel better. I’ve seen you when you sing, and it changes you. It’s like you’re in your element. Right where you belong.”

I can’t deny that, but I also don’t want to sing. Don’t want to feel better. I’m allowed some wallow time, which is why Bash brought us here. I hope he doesn’t want us to sing.

He slides into the booth and puts an arm around me as he sets three bottles on the table. “The best meal of your life will be here shortly. You’re welcome.”

“We didn’t thank you yet,” Halen says.

“You will.” Bash grins.

“What is it?” I ask.

“Just wait. It won’t be long.”

The mic squeals.

Halen grimaces and turns to Bash. “Someone needs to take that girl off the stage.”

“She’s a lot better than the merwoman who sang last time I was here.” He shudders. “My eardrums are still recovering.”

Halen clears her throat. “I was referring to you two. Drag Marra up there.”

I shake my head. “No. I’m here to wallow.”

“And wallow you will.” He nudges one of the bottles in front of me. “Try this.”

“What is it?” I can’t shake the feeling that I’m doing something illegal, even though I’m not. Once you’re old enough for academy, you’re old enough for booze around here—not that it’s allowed at the academies.

“I said try it.” His eyes shine with delight at driving me crazy.