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And then, there they are. Dean’s legs churn the water up behind him as he struggles to keep Pierce afloat.

Three hammerheads circle. There’s at least half a dozen more right below. I’ve got one shot. I’ll have to use it well.

I slow, dog paddling next to Dean, my gaze firmly fixed away from his body. I’m hell bent on protecting it.

One of the sharks picks up speed, maw gaping open, rows of razor-sharp teeth aiming for Pierce.

I hesitate. He would deserve it.

Instead, I kick out a leg, connecting with its sensitive eye. It swerves, diving back into the murk. Now just two.

Dean and Pierce are closer to the boat now, and I can hear the sound of the motor.

Charlie is going to leave me. She’s going to leave us all.

I swim toward the noise, keeping my eyes firmly fixed on the sleek predators around me. Dean must be close to the ladder, but they’ll have to figure out how to get Pierce on board.

I’ve got to keep him safe. I can’t lose him, not when I just decided to go on a date with him. And how long has it been since I’ve been on a date?

Too fucking long, that’s how long.

I deserve a date, goddammit. No hammer-fucking-head shark is going to bite its way through my date with Dean.

Another shark approaches. I kick my legs and swim towards it, my teeth clenched around the snorkel. It breaks the surface, then dives back down.

Yeah, you should be afraid, bitch.

I paddle closer to the boat, the harpoon still at the ready. As long as there is a threat to that kernel of happiness I felt this morning, there’s no way I’ll stop.

Something bumps me, then tugs at my waist. My heart stops and I elbow back on reflex, crunching into cartilage.

Please don’t be a shark.

But it didn’t hurt. Could be shock. I swivel as fast as the current allows.

Dean.

He tugs me along now, pulling me behind him until my brain catches up.Pierce must be on the boat.Coming to my senses—what’s left of them—I swim, the sharks finally scared off by the noise of the motors.

I cut through the water, Dean still pulling me behind him, his hand heavy against my arm as he eventually pulls me onto the boat.

Someone gently extricates the harpoon from my hands, and I pant on the deck, shivers wracking my body. Pierce is handcuffed, turning paler by the second as blood leaks from the bullet holes in his shoulder and thigh.

My leg connects with his shin and he opens his eyes for a moment, a wicked smile on his face.

“She’s just your type, isn’t she, Dean? Mean, and probably a sleeper for the other side. Just like her dad.”

Dean swings, a sickening thud sounding as his fist connects with Pierce’s jaw. “I saved your ass. Talk shit about her again, and I’ll throw you back to the sharks myself.”

“Nah, you need me. Turning in a dirty agent?” Pierce laughs, a hoarse, wrecked sound. “Better than telling Uncle Sam you killed me, especially with your record.”

“He has a point, Dean.” Charlie turns the wheel, steering back for land. “Besides, I think June’s traumatized enough.”

Dean’s eyes widen, and he kneels next to me. There’s a welt on his forehead, and I reach for it.

“That looks bad.” My teeth chatter. I’m so damn cold.

“Fuck, princess.”