“Good. You might want to get some blankets from the car, though. This could be a bit of a wait.”
I turned back around and walked to the water. The waves hissed over my feet, welcoming me back, wanting me to go deeper, wanting me to play. I ignored them, wading out until the water was thigh deep. Once there, I stopped and waited for the dawn.
It stirred gradually through the darkness. Slivers of pink and gold began to breach the night, dousing the stars and lending a glory to the predawn darkness. The energy in the air gradually increased, becoming more and more frantic, reaching toward its crescendo as the slivers became a river that flooded the sky. As the beat of energy came to a peak, and the air came alive with the hum and power of a new day, I raised my left hand and held it palm up to the skies.
“To the Gods of the sea, I call on thee.”
The ritual words rode across the silence, holding the energy, shaping it, becoming a thing of beauty and command. The waters around me began to stir and swirl, and the rush of waves were momentarily lost against that gathering whirl. Droplets of water shot into the sky, sparkling like diamonds in the gathering brightness.
“To my brothers of deep, dark waters, and my sisters of the quick shallows, I call on thee.”
More energy touched the air, a deep, bass thrum that spoke of vast, cold places. It flooded through me, filling me, completing me, in a way no human touch ever would.
The droplets came together, becoming a water spout that glittered and spun and danced upon the rich, dark waters.
“Return the ring you’ve kept safe and unfound. Return it to me now from the dark and secret places.”
Thunder rumbled in the distance, and the energy stirred, then leapt away. The turbulence stilled and the waves returned. I turned around and waded back up to the shoreline.
Trae was waiting, and there were blankets at his feet. “Now what?” he said, his fingers briefly touching my cheek, washing warmth across my skin.
“Now we wait.” I grabbed a blanket and wrapped it around me cocoon-like, then sat down. “What did you mean before, when you said you were conditioned not to talk about the clique?”
“Just that.” He picked up a blanket and wrapped it loosely around his shoulders, then sat down beside me. Even though we weren’t touching, his warmth flowed around me, heating the chill from my skin far swifter than the rising brightness of the day. “We are conditioned from the cradle not to talk about the clique. Every single day of our childhood we were told that those who talk about family business to outsiders will die. You hear it so often it becomes a part of your very nature.”
Disbelief surged, and I looked at him. “Surely they wouldn’t actually—”
“Not they. Him. The bastard we call king. And I’ve seen it done, many times. Our clique is a law unto itself in this matter—and no one, absolutely no one, dares to defy that law.” He looked at me, eyes glimmering in the growing light. “I have told you more about the clique than I have ever told anyone. But the training is still there, and it is very hard to break. Especially when it involves those that I love.”
“So you think your sister is in danger rather than just trouble?”
“I don’t know. But would you take the risk?”
“No.” I leaned a little closer to him, so that our shoulders touched. “Was she living at home with your mom before she disappeared?”
He snorted softly. “Most of us half breeds get out as quick as we can. We’re protected from the worst excesses of the clique until we reach sixteen, but after that it’s open season.”
I frowned. “What do you mean by that?”
“Let’s just say that young male air dragons tend to like testing their strength and their sexual prowess, and a lot of them aren’t particular about gender.”
I raised my eyebrows. “Air dragons are bisexual?”
“Mostly, no, but in our clique there aren’t a lot of breeding females. Hence the abundance of draman like myself. Those who can’t find human release often turn to each other.”
“But if there’s twelve other cliques, why don’t they just go elsewhere? Surely the female shortage doesn’t run through all the cliques?”
“I suspect it doesn’t, but air dragons are notoriously protective over what they class as ‘their own.’ It’s that whole not-sharing-the-loot mentality that was apparently prevalent in the early days.”
“So did any of these young dragons ever try their wily ways on you?”
Amusement glimmered briefly in his eyes. “Only one. I handed him back his balls on a platter and was never bothered after that.”
“Not surprising.”
“No. Mercy was pretty self-sufficient, as well, but she was attacked several times. Most of the time, I was there to stop it before it went too far, but once I was forced out—” He hesitated and shrugged. “She pretty much left when she hit sixteen. She came to San Francisco and lived with me while she finished school and studied journalism, then got an apartment with several friends.”
“If your mom’s so worried about her, why wouldn’t she go talk to the police?”