On the deck Elizabeth spins and whoops, throws her bikini into the air. Then she faces forward and, spreading her arms and legs, lets the wind-created by our speed-caress her naked skin, and dry the sweat from her body. She stays that way, oblivious to the stares of any passing boaters, until we exit the harbor. When she finally turns and looks in my direction, I motion for her to come join me on the flybridge.
"You aren't mad, are you?" she calls out.
I look at her and shake my head. "How could I be?"
Elizabeth grins, rushes to the bridge. She hugs me, kisses me on the cheek and whispers, "I want you."
"Not yet," I say, working the wheel, guiding the boat through the worst of the ocean's swells near the shore.
She presses her naked body against my side, her skin cool from the wind-her nipples rock hard. I try to ignore her, tend to my piloting, but she rubs against me, kissing my neck, tugging at my clothes.
"Elizabeth!" I object.
She laughs, continues to tease me and I suck in a breath, and force myself to pay attention to the boat traffic around us, the movements of the waves. But the farther Jamaica falls behind us, the less able I am to concentrate, the more conscious I am of Elizabeth's presence beside me. Far before the ocean swallows the last remnant of the island's image, I give in, set the autopilot, tear off my clothes and turn all my attention to my bride.
"It's about time," Elizabeth says, disengaging from me, walking slowly to the bench seat at the rear of the flybridge. Perfectly aware that my eyes follow each movement of hers, she lies on the bench facing me. "Come, Peter," she says. "You've already made me wait far too long."
Staring in the daylight at her naked body, I whisper, "Now I guess you'll want me to make up for having you wait."
"I wish you would, Peter…"
Later neither of us bothers to dress. We lie holding each other, listening to the rumble of the engines, letting the sea wind wash over us, smelling the salt air, being lulled to sleep by the rolling rhythm of our passage.
Neither of us wakes until after dark. Without a word or a thought between us we change shape and take to the evening sky to hunt, to kill and to feed. Later we make love again on the rear deck of the flybridge and then give in to sleep, waking after dawn to find the sunlight burning down on us, searing our scales. We change to our human forms, go below deck to continue our slumbers and the next night we repeat the pattern, preying on the crews and living cargo of dilapidated smuggling boats, attacking the countrysides of poor islands, creating a host of new folk tales I'm sure will terrify many uneducated island children for years to come.
Time turns elastic. I lose track of the days, forget to check on our location. The books I bought go unread. Jorge Santos's file remains untouched in the drawer next to the lower wheel. Elizabeth and I sleep through the days. We hardly talk, share nothing of our thoughts and histories. Sometimes I worry, we only seem to care about the next hunt, the feeding that follows and the lovemaking after that.
Late one afternoon, before we've changed to our natural forms, before the sky has grown dark enough to allow us to hunt, Elizabeth comes to me, her eyes glistening from the tears she's holding back. "I tried to talk to Chloe just now-we've been mindspeaking each day… I couldn't reach her."
I nod, check the GPS, then wrap my arms around her-surprised at how tender her tears make me feel, pleased to have her come to me for comfort. "We're near Cuba," I say. "Too far for mindspeaking. Even we have limits. You'll have to write her from now on."
"It won't be the same." She pouts.
"No, it won't," I say. Elizabeth pulls away and I wish I knew what to say to her to ease her sadness.
Later we change and hunt, make love and sleep. We do the same the day after that. The Grand Banks and the ocean that surround it have become our only universe. I wonder what will lie beyond it.
Chapter 16
Lightning or thunder or Elizabeth's laughter-I'm not sure which-awakens me just before another dawn. I sit up, still in my natural state, the remnants of our kill-a young, attractive couple who maintained a small farm on the Cuban coast-lying nearby. Rain slashes across the deck, soaks me. The wind chills me as waves rush at us and the bow rises, then crashes down. The stern does the same, the props whining when they break free of the water, and I hear Elizabeth laugh again.
A lightning bolt streaks across the sky, its momentary brilliance freezing a snapshot of the frenzied sea leaping all around us and illuminating the wet, naked, human form of my bride at the wheel of the ship.
"Elizabeth?" I mindspeak.
"When the storm woke me, I turned off the autopilot and took the helm." She adjusts the wheel a quarter turn to the left, to keep the bow facing the waves. "I've never seen anything like this. Isn't it wonderful?"
The Grand Banks shudders, almost stops as a massive wave crashes over its bow. "You can go below. Use the lower wheel, in the cabin," I say.
" Why would I want to ? "
I shrug, throw the carcasses off the boat and revert to human form too. As soon as I do, I start to shiver. Elizabeth hardly notices when I approach and kiss her wet, cold cheek.
"I'm going below to get some foul-weather gear. Do you want me to bring you any?"
She shakes her head, laughs and whoops as we crash through another roller.
Below, inside the cabin, the pitching and rolling seem even more intense. I have to concentrate on maintaining my balance as I dry off and pull on a sweatshirt and jeans. I try to think how many days it's been since I was dressed, and give up the attempt after a few moments.
The lower wheel turns, the boat changes position and I picture Elizabeth, naked and laughing, at the wheel above. I grin and shake my head. I've never met anyone as free as my bride. I'm amazed how seductive her wildness has been. My memories of our voyage from Jamaica almost frighten me-that I could succumb to such a careless, untamed life.
I think of Elizabeth's question the night before. "When you met me, you thought you were going to teach me more about how to live as a human, didn't you?"
"Yes," I said.
"Well, I think you didn't expect one thing." She chuckled.
"Which was?"
"That maybe, I'd teach you more about how to be a dragon instead."
A massive jolt knocks me off my feet, throws me across the cabin. The boat wallows and turns. The lower wheel spins freely. "Peter!" Elizabeth mindspeaks. I sense at once she's no longer on the boat. "Peter!" she calls and I feel her drifting farther behind me each moment that passes.
I stand, rush for the wheel, reach it just as another breaker hits the Grand Banks on its beam, the boat half rolling on its side before it rights. "Elizabeth, are you hurt? " I ask as I tug on the wheel, steer the boat, bow first, into the waves.
"No… I don't think so," she says. "I'm not sure how any of it happened. The waves are huge. One swept me off the fly bridge… Peter, I can't see the boat!"
Thankful that Jeremy had opted for the extra expense of dual controls, I reset the autopilot from the comfort and safety of the lower bridge and then let go of the wheel. "Don't worry. We can always find the boat."
"We?"
"After all the trouble I went through to find you, do you think I'd risk losing you now?" I mindspeak, stripping off my warm clothes. "I'm coming for you. Change to your natural state. You'll be stronger that way."
"Yes, Peter," she says.
I arch an eyebrow when I realize she hasn't argued with me. Another wave rocks the Grand Banks and I wait for the boat to reach the bottom of the next trough before I rush out the door, slam it behind me and leap from the deck.
Wind tears at me, rain blinds me as I change shape in midair and attempt to fly toward my bride. But I can't overpower the storm. Rather than wear myself out in a futile attempt to conquer the wind, I choose to drop into the water.