Ari and Zac

Chapter 25: The Sea Witch Prince

Chapter 25: The Sea Witch Prince

"No Zac. I don't need my phone."

Ari spoke, her voice weak and reedy, and Zac froze at the sound. He stood still as a statue for a long moment. Her sentence hung in the air, unanswered. A shaft of sunlight penetrated through a break in the gauzy curtains, illuminating her face, and her eyes underwent a transformation as the bright light hit them: from jet black to a flash of blue-green flame, penetrating straight through him with fiery intensity.

Zac's mouth fell open, but he didn't say anything in response. He didn't want to replace the sound of her words with his own. He knew how much it meant for her. He could see it in Ari's face—the look of wonder that suffused her features at the sound of her own hushed voice. Magical.

He stumbled back toward her. She was kneeling on top of the big king-sized bed, and he crawled across the expanse of sea-blue coverlet in her direction.

"Say that again," he whispered, low and intense, as he reached her. But she didn't say another word. She reached for him and twined her fingers through his hair. And then, somehow, his lips were on hers again.

Zac felt the jolting pleasure race through him at her touch. She settled herself back against the pillows, and he eased himself above her. She tasted so good. Delicious. Saltwater taffy, warm and sweet, kissed by the sea.

Zac balanced his weight on his elbows, ignoring the dampness that spread across his shirt. Her sopping nightgown clung to her—not quite naked, but not exactly clothed—and it took every ounce of effort to keep his eyes from exploring what lay beneath the translucent film.

Zac resisted the temptation. It was wrong. Too soon. Too fast... Too close to his Grandfather's orders from this morning. Zac squeezed his eyes shut to block out the memory of that disturbing conversation.

"We don't have time to mess around, Zac. Time is running out. We need to use every weapon in our arsenal at this point, and that includes—"

"Includes what? Deflowering virgins?"

A shudder ran through Zac's frame: part pleasure, and part something else. Guilt, perhaps? Shame? Grandfather was wrong. He had to be. Zac was aware, even as he kissed her on and on, that he was taking something he had no right to take. Something stolen.

He should tell her.

The thought flashed through his mind, and Zac felt a coldness settle in the pit of his stomach. He knew what he had taken from Ari. Not her virginity. Maybe even worse. He could feel the outline of his phone, stuffed into his front pocket, digging against his thigh. He'd almost forgotten about the 30-second video clip he'd saved there—the clip she didn't know he had.

What would Grandfather say when he saw it? When he heard Ari's voice, singing that soul-shattering song? Zac could just imagine how the old man's eyes would light with approval. And how he would slap Zac on the back. And how Cyrus would gnash his teeth with jealousy, forced to admit that Zac was the one who made it happen.

Ari's body shifted, her back arching. Zac made a weak effort to push himself away, but she had her arms around his neck, holding him in place. Her mouth slanted against his, and Zac could feel the will to move sapped out of him—as if she were inhaling him. Swallowing him whole.

He lost his train of thought. Later, he told himself. Whatever had been bothering him, he'd worry about it later...

He wrapped his arm around her waist and rolled sideways, pulling her along with him until they were laying side by side. Her fingers coiled in the hair at the nape of his neck, and he felt another thrill of delicious heat pass through him.

"She doesn't seem that virginal to me..."

It was Cy who said that, not Grandfather. The vision of his cousin's smug expression sprung into Zac's mind, and he couldn't shut it out. He should've knocked that smirk right off his cousin's face. Cyrus didn't even know Ari. He had no right to talk about her that way.

But Zac knew he was kidding himself. His cousin's crass remarks were nothing compared to the betrayal that Zac was considering.

He couldn't do it. He couldn't use that video without Ari's permission. He had to show it to her first. He had to tell her what it meant. How special it was. How special she was. If he explained it to her, surely she'd allow him to use the clip of her own free will.

But what if she said no?

With a monumental effort, Zac finally pulled away. He disentangled himself from her arms and pushed himself backward on the bed.

Ari's eyes opened slowly, and Zac felt a pang of regret as he stared into them. No more blue-green fire. They'd reverted once again to inky darkness, hazy and unfocused. "Zac," she sighed, her lips curving. "It feels so nice..."

It felt like heaven, he thought. Too delicious to let go. But he had to do it. He rolled away and stood up beside the bed.

She looked up at him, confused. "What?" she said, stammering. "Where are you going?

Zac had reached a decision. He couldn't show Ari the recording. Not yet. But he wouldn't show it to Grandfather either. He would test it on his own first, and make sure it was usable. That meant he had to load it onto Cy's iScroll and use his cousin's algorithm to calculate the score. If it rated below 90, then none of it mattered anyway. Zac would simply delete it, and Ari would never know the video existed.

But Zac knew deep down how high the score would be. He didn't need a computer program to tell him. He'd trained himself to resist the effects of SirenSong, but there was no escaping the lure of Ari's song. That voice was undeniable: a sound so intensely captivating that it had brought the entire Disruption team here to Seabreeze Point to find the source.

And she had no idea. She had no clue who she was—or how much power she possessed.

So he would make her understand, Zac told himself. He would calculate the score, and then he'd figure out a way to explain it to her. Maybe he'd invite her to join him at the next Disruption meeting, and let her hear for herself how important their cause was. Surely, Grandfather would convince her. Once Ari saw all the evidence—the whole story of Mae Song Yee and what happened to her at the hands of Dominick Torrent—then Ari would want to help. They wouldn't have to do anything shady.

They were the good guys in all this, Zac reminded himself. The heroes. Not the villains.

He pulled in a deep breath. He'd done nothing wrong. He wouldn't hurt Ari. If anything, he was helping her. She was speaking to him—speaking out loud for the first time. If her life were like that Disney movie she'd made him watch, then he was playing the role of the handsome prince, helping her get her voice back. Not the creepy old sea witch, stealing it from her.

Right?

Ari reached out toward him. The dreamy smile on her face had been replaced by a look of fear. Zac took her hand and squeezed it. "I'm sorry," he said. "I have to go. I have to be somewhere."

Why?

Her mouth formed the shape, but no sound came forth. The word died in her throat. Her hand fluttered by her larynx, as if to free the air that was trapped there, and the fear in her eyes turned desperate.

"It's OK," he said softly. "There's something I need to do. I'll explain everything. I promise. I'll text you later, OK?"

Ari shook her head violently. She was trying to communicate something with her eyes, but her lips would no longer cooperate. Her mouth clamped shut, useless, and she covered it with her palm.

"Ari, don't," Zac said. He took a step back toward her. "Don't worry about talking. Just get your phone and text me."

She shook her head again, and her eyes pleaded with him to understand whatever she was trying so hard to tell him.

Zac pressed his lips together in a line. "Text me," he said more firmly. He tapped at his pocket with his hand. "My phone's right here. I'll answer, I promise. Just text me."

With that, Zac backpedaled toward the French doors that led outside. He had to get back to the rental house. He didn't have time to waste. He needed to get that video clip loaded on the iScroll and scored. The next Disruption meeting was tonight, and he intended to be ready.