Page 34 of Echo and the Homicidal Sea Panda

Diego’s jaw went slack. “This just keeps getting better and better.” He sighed. “Why, pray tell, did you break the treaty?”

“Wait here,” Echo said before he marched into the foyer. He fished his grandfather’s journal and a copy of a bathymetric map from his backpack and returned with it. Opening to the pages in question, he handed the book over to Diego.

Diego took it from him and glanced down. Echo leaned against the kitchen counter, waiting for him to finish. Diego’s brows continued to come together as his stare moved down the page.

Before Diego finished, Mael came marching—and creaking—down the stairs. He slipped into the kitchen in his leather jacket and jeans, sans shirt, carrying a motorcycle helmet in one hand. Echo hadn’t noticed a motorcycle nearby the night before.

Mael rode a motorcycle? Another check on his ever-growing bad boy list.

Fuck, he’s so hot.

Echo froze, seeing just how right Diego was. His brain turned off and his dick turned on the second he took one look at Maelstrom. He needed to keep his wits about himself.

Mael glared at Diego, who was nose deep in the journal, and then leaned in toward Echo for a kiss. Echo closed his eyes, enjoying the kiss—but trying to keep up some semblance of control.

Mael searched his face, a hint of a frown showing before it was gone. “Tomorrow afternoon.”

“I’ll be there, right on the line.” He grinned, but there was only so much joy in it. He didn’t want Mael to go. Yet he did, too. He needed air and space to think. “Oh, when you came down this morning, I didn’t hear the stairs creak, but they did when you went up and back down.”

“I slid down the banister earlier,” Mael said with a grin. “So I could sneak up on you.”

“Lucky that held your weight,” Echo said. “That whole thing needs to be replaced.”

“I’m aware,” Mael said, one brow rising. He pressed a kiss to Echo’s lips before peeking at Diego. “See ya round, Diego.” He gave Echo another quick kiss. “Bye.”

“Bye,” Echo said.

“Bye,” Diego repeated, still nose-deep in the book. He lifted his gaze as Mael headed for the door. He spoke to Mael’s retreating back. “I still have concerns about this relationship of yours.”

Without turning, Mael waved at Diego over his shoulder and closed the door. Diego returned to the journal with a huff. Echo wandered closer to the back door and watched Mael start his motorcycle—one of those sporty crotch rockets. It was all black, which seemed fitting.

He chuckled, realizing that Mael was likely the guy on the motorcycle who’d blown through the intersection and cut him off. The vibrations from the engine shook the whole house. Mael waved and offered a tired smile before he pulled on his helmet and zoomed off in a flash.

“Echo, wouldn’t the elders know if this place existed?”

Echo turned away from the door. “One would assume but there’s a lot of things we don’t know that we should.”

“Like what?”

“Well, for one, what started the war between dolphins and orca?” Echo had asked multiple times and multiple people over the years, and he’d never gotten a straight answer. He’d barely gotten an answer at all. Most had pushed his questions aside and demanded he accept that it was what it was.

“Point taken,” Diego said. “But we both know your grandfather was…known…for his tall tales.”

Echo walked over and unfurled the bathymetric map. “Compare his map to this one. It’s nearly a complete match. How else would he be able to detail the topography? He’s been there.”

“The treaty was signed when he was probably in his twenties or thirties. He could’ve easily gone into that area before it was off-limits to us.”

“It’s not just this one though,” Echo said. “I’ve researched all of his maps in that journal. They’re from all around the world. I’ve been able to match most of them to the places he claimed they were. They’re almost perfect.”

“Bathymetric maps have been around for ages. He could’ve gotten his hands on some and used them for these sketches.”

“Modern bathymetric maps, with data this accurate, weren’t available to anyone outside the military until the late seventies. He had his adventures before he settled down with my grandmother,” Echo said. “In the fifties.” He pointed to the journal. “The one here—in orca waters—he wasn’t even a member of this pod when he sketched that.”

Diego frowned. “Wait—what do you mean he wasn’t a member of the pod?”

“He, my grandmother, and my mother were exiled from their former pod. My mother was young. He remembered how nice and welcoming folks were here from his travels, so they came here and asked to join this pod.”

“Oh,” Diego said. “Why were they exiled?”

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