Page 64 of Cold-Blooded Creatures

Taught them how to swim.

After gulping gallons of seawater, cursing the waves so viciously they had finally mellowed, and swatting me for pulling my arms from underneath her to force her to try to swim, she could float in the water well enough to enjoy herself.

She dunked her head underwater and popped out half a second later, too afraid to spend a full one buried underneath the force of nature. But the smile with which she took in the horizon, the deep blue water sparkling in white from the sun, was bewitching.

Abruptly, she screamed and flung herself into my arms. “Something touched me!”

Zion broke the surface right beside us with a huge splash.

She shoved at his chest. “Jer?—”

A powerful wave snatched my footing. The sea ripped her away, and I held my breath, my lungs on fire, as water maneuvered me like a doll, up and down, left and right, forward and backward, water rising higher and falling, spinning me around my axis.

I searched for her frantically, finding nothing, nothing, andnothing.

Something solid hit my hip, and I clasped onto the slippery flesh, gaining ground, digging my heels into the sand and paying no heed to the rocks digging into my soles. I spat out the briny water out as I resurfaced, blinking away the salt burning myeyes, my heaving calming down at the sight of them choking out water.

“Let’s go back,” I said, and she nodded, falling into another coughing fit. Zion moved her soaked hair away from her face.

She did not resist us guiding her to the shore, speechless in the minutes it took us to wade out of the water. We collapsed on the blankets, and I passed her a bowl of fried rice, vegetables, and hare that our kitchen had prepared. Silently, she ate without protesting and observed the sunset, unaware of our group’s debate about returning here next week. But once the stars lit up in the night sky, she did too.

It was like a switch in her mind going on. It nagged me to break it wide open, figure out what made her tick, and own it.

“How did you get that scar?” she finally asked.

“Which one?” Countless covered my torso, most gained more than a decade ago.

She reached out and lightly circled the old gunshot wound below my right collarbone. “This one.”

The scar that made me recoil each time I remembered it. “War. A soldier shot me in Ilasall.”

“Is that how you became the leader of your compound?”

“I became one hours before.” Hours that ate away at me until I had found Zion holding the knife embedded in his sister’s stomach to the hilt.

She shivered from how the cold swirled around us, the waves rising higher, their roar growing loud and brutal.

I pulled my jacket from my backpack and placed it over her shoulders. “Here.” We had changed into dry clothing, but the fabric could not keep away the chill slithering under it.

“Why do you call it a compound? It’s more like a city, from what I’ve seen.” Kali drew the leather material snugly, her head thrown back to observe the white dots peppering the sky. Theirsilver shimmers caressed her while the wind lashed at us, our clothing flapping from its gusts.

“At first, it was a compound. A few chosen buildings, a fence people had built—way before any of us were born. The place expanded, but the name stuck.” I rose, and she followed. “Many loath the term ‘city,’ so we never changed it.”

“I heard there are two more,” she said as we walked along the shoreline, toward where Zion sat by himself, away from everyone. The air currents whipped our hair and sand grains pricked us like needles. The stars blinked out one by one, hidden by the gathering clouds.

“Yes, one close to each city, Ardaton and Coriattus. They’re much smaller than us. Damia is the leader of the one near Ardaton, and Conall leads the one near Coriattus.” We sat down on the sand beside Zion, taking in the horizon, where the waves moved like shadows, formidable and perilous.

“Why did you go back?” Zion asked Kali, his short golden-brown hair flying in all directions, as wild as the day I had found him in that cursed military truck. “To Ilasall. You were free in the clearing, outside the city wall, but you always returned to it.”

Her face hardened to stone. “Because I’m going to kill the Head of Ilasall and his followers.” A raindrop struck her forehead. A warning of the storm about to be unleashed.

The determination behind her statement forced my fingers to pause sifting the sand. The damp granules were as cold as her will was strong. And her display of perseverance, tenacity some mistakenly called stubbornness, was what leaders were forged out of.

Kali was a ruler.

Zion gave me a loaded look, one showing he was impressed. He always was whenever someone wished to plant murders all around like poppy flowers.

“You plan to butcher Peter and the rest by yourself?” On my last word, the sky broke. The torrent beat our sweats, drenching the fabric to the last thread in seconds, as ferocious as her proclamation. Maybe it had drawn inspiration from her.