One of them had won, he thought. But he didn‟t know who.
She sighed. “I have to go now. I promised to meet Margred and Caleb at the clinic. Can I drop you at the inn?”
He stared at her blindly, trying not to shake, trying not to panic, wanting her desperately, needing . . .
What?
Her. Only her. But she had no time for him, she was going to care for Margred and her baby. As she should, as she must. “I
can’t be less than who I am either . ”
He shook his head, disgusted with himself. There was no shame in needing someone.
Not unless she didn‟t need you back.
She did need him. She had said so.
“I will walk,” he said. “To clear my head.”
She smiled again, hesitantly. “Zack does that. I thought it was a boy thing, but maybe he gets it from you.”
Zachary.
His mind cleared, sharpened.
“Where is he?”
Elizabeth blinked. “I don‟t know. I lost track of him during dinner, and after Margred started labor, I didn‟t have time to
look.” She bit her lip. “I should have. Regina and Dylan are watching Emily, but—”
“I will find him,” he interrupted. “We will wait for you at home.”
The water wrapped Zack like a fist, tight and comforting. Familiar. He shuddered in relief as it sheathed his sensitized skin,
as the current yanked him along into cool, dark oblivion.
He didn‟t need Stephanie. He didn‟t need anybody. If she had places to go, so did he.
Places she would never go.
He didn‟t mean to swim so far. It just sort of happened, like staying out too late or drinking too much, the situation under
control until you stopped paying attention and then, oops, there you were, staring at seven messages from home or puking
vodka and Gatorade into the toilet of the Stoddards‟ basement powder room.
Or sliding through the liquid dark toward a crevice in the rock, heart thumping, blood pumping, the beat of the orb pulsing
like the surge of the ocean.
He flicked his tail, and smaller fish scattered. Ha.
“You must not go into the water until you have learned to defend yourself . ”
He was fine. He could go back. Anytime. He would go back, as soon as he saw it again. That big shiny garden globe. The
orb.
He could feel it vibrating like music, like heavy bass, in the cavities of his skull and along his skin. It drew him like a
current closer to the roots of the island, closer to a fissure in the rock.
Closer.
Was that a glow? Pretty blue playing over the sandy bottom, exposing a litter of empty shells, a decaying skeleton. Caution
brushed him like seaweed swaying in the dark.
Morgan didn‟t want him to be here.
Morgan could go fuck himself.
The thought slid into Zack‟s mind, not really his thought. Funny. Rude. Wrong.
He glided closer. The sand had drifted, exposing a slice of the glowing globe, like a sickle moon, like a dragon‟s half-shut
eye. Colors swirled and throbbed in its depths, luring him on, luring him in. The rhythm of the orb grew stronger, catching up
and overtaking the rhythm of his heart. Like he had two hearts. Two pulses. Two minds.
Who did Morgan think he was anyway?
My father, he thought.
Some father. Just because he’s screwing your mother . . .
Zack thrashed and the pulse faltered, finding a subtly different rhythm, stirring up memories and resentment like sediment
on the ocean floor. His emotions churned.