Page 50 of Hot Summer's Prey

“Are you scared?” I ask, not hearing it in her voice.

“No, not with you,” she says simply, as if it’s obvious.

My heart flips again. I kiss her neck as I bring us deeper and deeper.She shivers suddenly, so I pull her close.

“This must be what it’s like to be in space,” she says, her voice full of awe.

In some ways, maybe it does look like space, especially with so much krill dotting the waters, still visible with the sparse light that make it this deep. They’re hard to make out because of their dark coloring, but many of the animals down here swim only a few dozen feet from us—one massive, majestic body included.

“It’s so empty here,” Teresa says, confirming that she can’t see well.

“There’s a whale to our right,” I tell her.

She gasps and turns, searching carefully. When it sings, she squeals, grabbing at my shoulders and spinning to look at me.

“Oh my god, that’s so loud! That’s a whale!” she exclaims.

“A blue whale,” I tell her, observing the animal’s extreme size.

“Isn’t that like a really big whale? Is that the biggest whale? That’s a—it’s so—Pacari, I can barely see all of it and it’s so massive!”

“Yes,” I laugh. “Bigger than fifteen of me laid in a row. They come here for the krill, migrating north from their breeding grounds in the south.”

She’s adorable like this. I breathe in her energy, the vividness of her expressions, the patter of her heart. Many different whales travel these waters. This one is late, usually blue whales are all gone by the end of spring. The gentle giants are a wonder even to me, but I am anxious to show Teresa my greatest pride. When she has taken her fill of the poorly lit blue whale, I pull her deeper and deeper, closer to the crepuscular waters that bear my garden.

As we descend, I know the thing to look out for, other than pressure, is the drop in temperature. Her skin is much hotter than the water around us, but chilly to the touch.

“Are you cold?” I ask.

“Maybe a little,” she answers, her body shivering.

My body shivers, too, but it’s much more efficient than what humans do. I cross one arm over her chest, pull her fingers so they’re flush with her skin, encourage her to pull her legs close as well. Then, I begin to vibrate as we continue to swim. Though we are less hydrodynamic, now the vibrations make it easier to swim through the fast moving water around us. The vibrations heat the water around us as well, and now we are in a bubble of warmth that should keep her safe until we get to the garden.

I know she will love it, for the way she coos and squeals over each new animal as it gets close enough for her to see.

“You weren’t kidding about this being a deep sea thing, huh,” she says as the light fades faster and faster.

“No,” I answer. “Despite the difficulty, it’s the safest place for the enclosure. Humans never come down here.”

She laughs darkly. “We’re the only thing you have to be worried about?”

“The Abyssal Ones keep to themselves. Except for Cirro—”

“Your friend.”

“Yes, so he’s unlikely to tear it apart or snack on its creatures. Besides, he prefers bigger game.”

She shudders, but I do not think it is from the cold. I will not elaborate on what he eats, it will only distress her and have her asking questions about who the Abyssal Ones are and if she is in danger. But she is not when she is with me.

Finally, I see it, nestled into a mineral deposit. There is a vent nearby—another benefit to this part of the abyss. One of the warm spots. All around us, there are little blips of life that shine in the darkness.

“You guys having a rave down here?” she laughs, teeth chattering slightly. “Some of these fish look like they’ve been hooked up to LEDs. Gamers would salivate over some of these set ups. Zephyr? They’d lose their shit.”

“It’s dangerous enough to bring you here, and… I do not want to share with them what I share with you.”

“Oh,” she says. “Well. You don’t have to tell me twice.”

As we get close to the opening, she gasps when the light of my glow illuminates the rock.

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