Total pages in book: 191
Estimated words: 188966 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 945(@200wpm)___ 756(@250wpm)___ 630(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 188966 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 945(@200wpm)___ 756(@250wpm)___ 630(@300wpm)
How fucking dare—
My mind went blank as Neri folded her legs and descended to the sandy floor in front of the shark. She sat on her heels, her monofin wafting up grit. The knife in her hands glinted, and I braced myself for a fight.
What the hell is she doing?
She wouldn’t hurt the shark...she’d never do that.
So why does she have the knife?
The shark slowed its cruise and circled her. It wasn’t the biggest predator I’d ever seen, but it could still rip off her arm as it bumped her shoulder, then slowed to a coast. Its eyes stayed locked on Neri as it hovered over her lap, sinking down and down until its head rested on her knees.
I couldn’t fucking move.
If I wasn’t sucking on air, my mouth would be hanging wide and my eyes popping out of their damn sockets.
What the hell is going on?
I couldn’t believe what I saw. Couldn’t believe this girl. This insanely incredible, recklessly crazy girl. This girl who I’d loved since she was twelve and somehow been lucky enough to make my wife...a girl showing me an entirely different side to her.
The siren side.
The siren currently sitting on the seafloor with a pet fucking shark!
Catching my eyes, Neri shook her head once. Her hair shifted left and right then bloomed upward as she tipped her head and stabbed the knife into the sand.
The shark didn’t move. Its gills ebbing and flowing with breath, sending fresh seawater through its system, siphoning the minuscule amounts of oxygen from the brine.
I shot forward as Neri’s hands touched its jaw.
Neri!
A cloud of bubbles shot around my face. Swiping them away so I could see, Neri held up her hand as I stumble-swam closer.
The shark shifted a little on her lap, but she laid her free hand on its nose and shook her head angrily at me.
Angry with me?
Kafami sikeyim, I was ropable with her.
What the hell are you doing?
She tapped her chest as if to say she was running out of air and gave me an okay signal with her forefinger and thumb. She threw the signal at me again, obviously trying to get me to accept.
It went against every instinct and took every inch of control, but I nodded reluctantly.
She narrowed her eyes, daring me to move.
Crossing my arms over the vest holding my tank, I stayed where I was. I trusted that she knew this world far better than me. It drove me insane having her sit so calmly with a fucking shark in her lap, but...what else could I do?
If she gets bitten...
That shark is fucking sushi.
Once she knew I’d obey, her attention returned entirely to the grey-skinned monster.
Her forehead furrowed as she ducked her head, her fingers diving into the corner of its mouth.
Fuck me.
It took every inch of control not to go to her. Not to punch that beast in its gills and tear her back to the surface.
Her fingers dived deeper.
My gut churned with nerves.
It felt like it took an eternity but it was only a few awful breaths before she extracted something sharp and curved, stroked the shark’s nose, and pulled her hands away as the aquatic beast swam lazily off her knees.
The moment it was gone, she fisted whatever she’d pulled from the jaws of death, grabbed the knife, then kicked toward me.
Pointing toward the surface, she smiled and raised her hands above her head.
The sleek lines of her belly made me hard.
The curves of her breasts made me desperate.
I couldn’t move as she kicked toward the surface with the knife cutting through the salt, moving as gracefully as the shark she’d just stroked.
Chapter Forty-Eight
*
Aslan
*
(Moon in Arabic: Qamar)
“WHAT THE FUCK WAS THAT DOWN THERE?” I demanded, hauling myself onto The Fluke and hooking my mask on the staircase. Seawater dripped off me as I fought against the buckles and straps wrapped around my waist.
Neri had already removed her mask and monofin and stood in a puddle of her own making, wringing out her hair with both hands. Nudging her chin at the table, she said, “It had a hook in its mouth.”
My eyes narrowed. “How could you possibly know that? It looked like it was ready to eat you.”
Tossing her hair over her shoulder, she padded toward me and unbuckled my weight belt with practiced fingers. Placing the cumbersome thing on the table beside the large rusty hook she’d salvaged, she went behind me and turned off the oxygen, grabbed the tank, and waited for me to shrug it off before stowing the scuba gear against the table leg.
Turning back to face me, she gave me a shy smile. “Would you believe me if I told you I knew why it’d appeared and that’s why I went to get the knife?”
“To protect yourself?”
“No, to cut any twine that might’ve been caught it its gills. I’ve had a few sharks where the hook gets lodged in their jaw but the line goes through them. It’s a delicate operation to remove it all.”