And I realized what he’d thought without him saying it. I’d heard him over the intercom. I’d known he was fine, but he’d thought that I’d died. “I’m alive,” I told him, even though he could see me, just so he could hear it again as he crushed me to his side. I ducked into his shoulder and hid there. “I’m alive.”
I heard his breath catch as he stroked a strand of wet hair behind my ear. “We were supposed to meet on the lifeboat deck. Waiting there for you, not knowing—it was the most awful thing I’ve ever done.”
“I’m alive,” I whispered again.
“I knew it when I heard Nathaniel taunt you over the intercom. But not until then.”
How long ago had that been? It hadn’t seemed long to me; we were so busy running and then getting shot at. But somehow the lighting in here made him look older and more sad. Happy to see me, but haunted.
“I knew you’d manage to make it up here after that,” he went on. “I couldn’t dare let myself think otherwise. It would have wrecked me.”
“If I’d had a way to tell you, I would have.”
He grabbed my shoulders like he was setting me straight. “Can we please go now?”
I hesitated.
“I don’t want to die—but he’s still got people. You heard them, they’re alive.”
And the lines on his face drew grim.
“Didn’t you hear them?” I pressed.
He made a show of looking behind me. “I noticed you’re already missing the three people you left with. What’s a few more?”
“Hal and Claire weren’t like that—”
“Let’s take a vote,” he said, and then gave Rory a look. It was clear he and Rory had already discussed things in my absence.
“You think I’m going to be stopped by a plea for democracy?”
Asher’s eyes narrowed. “Why does he want you—not me?”
I didn’t want to tell him, but he deserved to know. “Because his own daughter died. When we were alone together earlier, before the gunmen, he asked if I was really pregnant, and then said he wanted a child for a child.”
Asher’s expression became emotionless and flat. “That is the exact opposite of everything you needed to say to get me to go help them. We’re going.”
“You know what he’s capable of! How can you just leave them behind?”
“Look around you. Thousands of people have already died here. Who cares about a few more?” He grabbed my arm. “I’m getting you off this boat.”
It truly didn’t matter to him. And maybe he was right, but what kind of life with him would I have if I had to live with the knowledge that for me to be happy, we’d just let people die?
Wasn’t that kind of thinking what had gotten us here in the first place? I pulled back from him.
“The Shadows made you pick this trip. Because they knew they could use us to figure out what was going on—and to punish us for disobeying them. They say some of this is your fault.” Asher looked stunned. I moved closer to him and took his hand back. “We’re different. I love you with all my heart, but I’m not like you. I can’t just leave them behind without at least trying first.”
Rory had been creeping backward, wisely trying to give us space. But then the Maraschino swung and he rocked back as the ship did. I saw him reach out for the marble of the spa’s registration table, and watched his fingers slip off the cold stone.
He fell to the ground and slid like he was on a slip-and-slide, down the hall, to the other door where Asher’d been waiting for me. It swung open as he hit it and he flew out, just barely catching the doorjamb in time. Behind him was open black.
“Don’t leave me!” he howled, holding on to the doorway.
I started up—and so did Asher. I caught his shoulder. “I thought you didn’t care about adding a few more deaths to the pile.”
For a heart-wrenching second I thought he might actually do it, just to prove his point, even if it broke me. And then he shrugged my hand away and anger crossed his face. “God-fucking-dammit, Edie.”
Missing two fingers didn’t hurt his agility. He lowered himself through the tumbled wreckage of the spa and reached out for Rory. Rory grabbed hold, and Asher pulled him up, until he could put him down again safely inside.
“Watch out, I won’t come for you again,” he warned, and Rory nodded wildly.
My stomach reeled watching them climb back up, using the fixtures bolted to the spa’s walls for support. I wanted to pretend it was because I was worried about them, or what we still had left to do, or the fact that this entire fucking boat was dropping into the sea, but I couldn’t. Asher was too busy concentrating on handholds to see me. I ducked behind the counter and pressed a hand to my stomach, hard. “Stay in,” I commanded my stomach contents quietly. I could have sworn I felt an answering thrill to my demand. I knew it was way too early to feel anything from the baby, but I added, “Please be the baby. Don’t be a killer worm.”
Asher pulled himself even with me. “Other than storm in to our deaths, do we have a plan?”
I smiled at him and tried to be encouraging. “We’ll think of something. We always do.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN
If the spa’s display table for all their tonics and brochures hadn’t been bolted into the wall, we might not have made it out of the room. But we were able to use it like a ladder, until we reached the door at the top of the store. Rory was shaken by nearly being lost, whatever spell Asher’s competence had had on him broken. The second we emerged from the door he started apologizing.
“I don’t know what you two are, but I’m not like you.” For a second I felt boldly proud—until his next words. “I need to get off this ship.”
“Out of the mouths of babes,” Asher said, giving me a look.
I wanted to encourage Rory to come with us, but I couldn’t in good faith. The deck was getting worse. If he didn’t go he might not make it back to where the life rafts were stowed.
“See those canisters?” Asher said, pointing to what looked like oil drums attached to the Maraschino’s railings at small intervals. “If all else fails, grab one of those and go overboard. They’ll inflate if you pull the string out from the end.”
“How do you know?” Rory asked him, like I’d learned how to stop myself from asking long ago.
“I read a lot of books. Hurry up. Good luck.”
Rory nodded. “You too.” And then he scrambled off as the deck neared forty-five degrees, and another wave hit the Maraschino’s side.
“We probably don’t have much time,” Asher said.
My hand found his injured one. “I know.”
Together, we walked over the face of what had been the outer wall of the spa, up to the nice restaurant where we’d eaten a fancy dinner with Liz and Nathaniel just two nights before.
Arriving there like this in this set of circumstances somehow felt more right than the other night when I’d been all nicely dressed. This made more sense—the chaos, the mess, the nearness to death. Of course the last seven months of peace were just a dream; I’d been a fool to ever think they weren’t. I didn’t know if I didn’t deserve happiness, although it sure as hell seemed like someone thought I didn’t, or if chaos was in me from the way I was raised. But everything being messed up felt strangely right somehow. Probably because messed up could have been my middle name.
“I’m not going to let him kill you, Edie. We’ll do what we have to do, and get lucky if we can, but you can’t ask that.”
“I’m not. I’m asking you to give us a chance to save the others.” I nodded at him, and leaned in for a fast kiss. “I promise.”
We reached the restaurant door, hung skew by either violence or the current gravity, and carefully crept in.
Nathaniel was there, leaning against a column near the front door. He looked the same as when I’d seen him last, except now he had an orange life jacket on. Two of his gunmen stood to either side.
Jorge, Marius, and Kate were strung up from the exposed beams in the ceiling, trussed like flies caught in a spider’s web. They were gagged, but not so much that they couldn’t talk around them. Jorge gasped to see us arrive, Marius’s soldier’s training kept him quiet, and Kate quietly moaned to herself, not in recognition. None of them looked well, but I was no shining example of health right now myself.
Nathaniel leaned forward but didn’t take a step. With the unstable deck, he wasn’t completely in control. “I knew you weren’t dead, even if my men weren’t always careful.” He gave Asher a nod. “And look, you managed to rescue your man.”
“What do you want?” Asher stood in front of me, blocking me with his body.
“Like I already told her. Revenge.”
“I didn’t kill your daughter. The Consortium did.”
Nathaniel’s eyes widened and then he laughed, cold and long. “Oh. Of course you would assume that. You couldn’t possibly know.” He pushed himself forward off the column and took a step nearer us, without blocking his hired guns. “The Consortium didn’t come out to punish me themselves. They told my employers to ‘clean things up.’ Do you know what they did?” he asked us.
I shook my head, mute. Asher didn’t move.
“They didn’t kill her. They took her from me. They’ve had her, all this time. You ruined a decade of research and made monsters kidnap my only child.”
Things fell into place. That was why Nathaniel was willing to sacrifice thousands of people to get the Leviathan on his side. He thought his daughter was still alive.
What wouldn’t a parent do to try to rescue their own child?
“When I found out you were on board, with your lovely, stupid, pregnant wife—it was almost too good to be true. I couldn’t believe my luck—and that’s when I knew my plan would work. You being here, me getting this chance—it’s fate. The Leviathan is already on its way.” He took a gun from one of his employees. Kate started to moan louder, and from deep in the restaurant there was the sound of a rush of water, as though a dam had burst, and a shallow wave swept in across the back of the floor.
