Page 18 of Kai
I repressed the urge to shine the light on her face to divine her expression. I’d known her for only a short time, and yet I was in awe of her courage. My protective instincts were fully engaged. Was this what her sisters meant when they said we had a connection?
“Watch your footing.” I urged myself to keep my head in the game. “The rocks are slippery.”
We had to crouch as we advanced, startling the crabs. They raised their claws in defiance when we rushed by. Cece was the scholarly type, but she was also fit and agile, had fast reflexes, and excellent balance.
The lava tube ended in a slimy tidal cavern that opened to the bay. Rocks and pebbles shifted beneath our steps. The foam of the spent waves lapped at our feet, and the ocean breeze carried the tendrils of fog that swirled around our legs. I extracted my gear from where I’d cached it behind the rocks. Everything was intact, thank fuck. I crouched down and went to work.
She stood over me as I opened my wet bag and fidgeted with her hands. “You stored this stuff here?”
“Affirmative.” I dug out everything I needed. “Before I established my observation post, I scouted the shore to preparefor our exfil. This was the least dangerous spot to launch out of. Here.” I handed Cece a wetsuit. “Put it on.”
She looked at the thing and then at me as if I’d ordered her to challenge the devil himself. Two lines appeared between her eyebrows.
“Quickly now,” I urged, and she stepped into the wetsuit.
After expanding my dry bag, I slipped off my smaller ruck and stored it inside. I did the same with the laptop case, which was bulky but not heavy, especially given that I was used to carrying a ninety-pound ruck. After that, I sealed the dry bag.
It took me only a few seconds to fit my carbine into a submersible shoot bag. I secured it to my back for easy access. I donned the dry bag and stalked to the corner to clear the kelp strands that concealed my surfboard.
“Yousurfedhere?” Cece asked, her voice shrill even as she slid on the neoprene.
“I did.” I crossed over to her, yanked the suit up to her waist, and helped her fit her arms through the long sleeves.
“No boat?” She gaped as I zipped her up. “Please tell me we’re not surfing out of here?”
“Quiet, efficient, and stealthy.” I fit the slim, ultralight life jacket over her arms and shoulders. “What’s not to love?”
“I… um…” The terror I spotted in her eyes was next level. “I don’t surf.”
“It’s okay.” I adjusted the straps with a yank. “If at any point you get separated from me, just tug on this.” I pointed at the yellow tab. “It will activate the flotation device and emit a signal I’ll be able to track.” I fastened my mini-mission computer to my forearm and tapped the directional icon on my Tak. “I’ll take care of the rest.”
“Kai?” She fixed her stare on the water beyond the rocks. “I can’t do this.”
“Of course you can.” I activated my GPS. “You just single-handedly took down that huge fucker. Compared to that, this will be a piece of cake.”
“I can’t do it,” she repeated, her voice wispy. “You go.”
“That’s a half-assed idea.” I stalked into the water and floated my board in the shallows. “Come on. These mercs are bound to have backup nearby. We need to hoof it.”
She raked the tips of her teeth over her lower lip so hard I worried she’d make herself bleed. Holding on to the board’s leash, I studied her face. We’d taken care of the mercenaries, but I didn’t wanna linger. And yet the fear flaring in her eyes was real.
I drew my eyebrows together. Nowhere in Cersi Astor’s profile did it say that she was anything other than a go-getter. She’d been fierce when she first faced me, brave during our escape, and ferocious when she tackled the merc.
“Is there a problem, Sorceress?”
“I… um…” She wrung her hands, then hit me with her pale eyes. “Yes.”
“What’s wrong?” When she didn’t reply, I waded back to her, and holding on to the board’s leash, took her hand and squeezed it. “Cece? Talk to me.”
“I’m the problem,” she confessed, her face tight. “I can’t swim.”
Chapter Seven
Cece
“You can’t swim?” Kai didn’t hide the shock that lifted his dark eyebrows on his forehead.
It was as if he could not comprehend, or even entertain, that someone couldn’t master the basic life skill of swimming, let alone me, Cece Astor, the daughter of one of the world’s wealthiest men, educated at the most elite universities, the person I was supposed to be: smart, capable, perfect.
