22. Meridian
Meridian
TWENTY TWO
T he cove hides like it was made for secrets. I navigate the tricky approach with muscle memory, cutting the engine to let Deep Pockets drift into the sheltered spot.
As the boat settles, I scan for Cyreus. The sun's already gone, leaving behind purples and deep blues, but the water's still as glass.
"Cyreus?" I call, knowing he can probably hear me even if I whispered.
Nothing. Not even a ripple.
I check my watch. Still ten minutes before our meeting time. One thing I've learned about Cyreus – he's punctual to the second, like he's got an atomic clock in those three hearts of his.
The minutes drag like they're stuck in molasses. Right on the dot, the water swirls and Cyreus surfaces, all tentacles and grace, his upper body rising while the rest stays submerged.
"You look like hell," he says immediately, those eyes missing nothing. "What's wrong? "
I dump it all out – Donovan sniffing around the harbor, that research vessel with its fancy equipment, Fergus warning me about targeted questions. "This isn't just some nosy reporter. This is organized, funded research with us as the target."
"The timing's suspicious," Cyreus agrees, drifting closer. "They might not know exactly what they're looking for, but they've seen something weird enough to come hunting."
"Could it be another one of you?" The question's been eating at me since I realized how serious this is. "Another survivor or something?"
"No chance." He's absolutely certain. "I'd know if another Agual was anywhere in these waters. We're like sharks sensing each other. Evolutionary thing."
"So they're after you, even if they don't know what you are." I grip the rail so hard my knuckles go white. "What the hell do we do? They've got sonar, underwater drones, probably all kinds of tech I don't even know about."
"We lie low." His voice stays steady when mine won't. "I've been dodging humans for almost a hundred years. I'll stay out of their patrol areas, go deeper when I move around, use the natural ocean floor mess to hide my tracks."
"And us? Our dives?"
"On hold. For now." The regret in his voice matches the sinking feeling in my gut. "You hanging out with me is what caught their attention. If we keep it up, we're basically confirming their suspicions."
Makes perfect sense. Doesn't make it suck any less. These past months have been the best of my life. Not just the successful dives, but having someone who gets it. Gets me. Going back to solo diving in waters that'll feel empty without him... I can't even find words for how much that hurts.
"How long?" I hate how small I sound.
"Until they pack up and leave. Two weeks, if your friend's right." His expression softens. "This isn't forever, Meri. Just a strategic retreat."
"And if they find something? If they come back with more gear, more people?"
"We'll figure it out then." A tentacle reaches up to touch my hand on the rail. "Adapting kept me alive when everything went to hell. It'll get us through this too."
I flip my hand to meet his touch. After all this time, the cool, smooth feel of him is as familiar as my own skin. "I told Fergus about this place. As a backup plan. I trust him, Cyreus."
His eyes widen slightly. "You told him about me?"
"No. Just that if things go sideways, he should come here at sunset and wait. That he might see something unexpected." I watch his face carefully. "I needed a safety net. Someone who could help if these researchers get aggressive."
He's quiet for a moment, thinking it through. "Your friend's proven reliable through your business dealings. You really think he'd keep this kind of secret?"
"Yeah, I do. Fergus has seen enough weird shit in seventy years to know some things are better left unreported." I give his tentacle a gentle squeeze. "He's already covering for me without knowing why. Telling him enough to help isn't the same as putting you on display."
Cyreus nods slowly. "Trust isn't something I've handed out freely since I crashed here. But I trust you. If you say this man can help instead of hurt, I believe you."
Coming from someone who's spent a century hiding, that's huge. Trusting a human he's never even met, just on my say-so.
"Thanks." I let go of him, feeling the clock ticking on our time together. "So what now? Two weeks of pretending we don't know each other?"
"Not separation," he corrects me. "Adaptation. We meet at night when they're not looking. We find ways to communicate that won't tip them off. We stay connected, just... creatively."
"And my diving?"
"Goes back to how it was before me. Normal depths, standard gear, nothing flashy." His expression turns serious. "They need to see boring, everyday salvage diver Meri. Nothing worth a second look."
Makes sense. Still feels like putting on old clothes that don't fit anymore. Going back to the limitations I had before we teamed up, giving up everything we can do together.
"I hate this," I admit. "Hiding what we can do. Pretending to be less than we are."
"It won't be forever," he reminds me. "And maybe we needed this wake-up call. We've gotten comfortable. Sloppy. "
He's right, though I don't want to admit it. Success made us cocky. That bronze bell we brought up yesterday came from a depth that would raise eyebrows among professionals, pulled out with a precision that fancy equipment would struggle to match.
"When do we meet again?" I'm already plotting new routes, safer spots.
"Three nights from now. The northern cove, after midnight when they're probably looking elsewhere." He drifts back slightly, getting ready to leave. "I'll track their movements, learn their search patterns, find the blind spots."
"What if they get too close? If they put equipment where it might pick you up?"
"Then I go deeper, beyond their search range." His face shows the calm confidence of someone who's survived worse. "I've stayed hidden for a hundred years. I'm not getting caught now, when I finally have something worth staying free for."
That simple statement hits me right in the chest. Whatever mess we're facing, whatever hoops we have to jump through, what matters is still there.
"Three nights," I confirm. "Northern cove, after midnight."
He nods, but instead of disappearing right away, he reaches up with both hands, shifted now to look more human. I lean down to meet him halfway. His cool fingers frame my face as he pulls me closer.
"This isn't goodbye," he whispers against my lips. "Just a detour. "
When he kisses me, it says everything we're not putting into words. The fear, the determination to protect what we've found, how much even a short separation is going to hurt. I grip his shoulders hard enough to leave marks, like I could somehow keep him with me by holding tight enough.
When we break apart, his eyes lock with mine, intense enough to burn. "No research boat, no nosy journalist, no scientific expedition gets to take this from us. What we have is worth fighting for."
"Worth everything," I agree, letting him go even though every instinct fights against it.
He starts to sink back, our hands the last things touching, fingers tangled until the water finally separates them. Just before his head goes under, he pauses.
"Be careful, Meri. These researchers might seem harmless, but curiosity without ethics gets dangerous fast. Watch what you say, what you do, what gear you use. Don't give them anything that points to me or to us."
Then he's gone, nothing but ripples showing he was ever there.
As I get ready to head back, the weight of our new reality sinks in. The freedom we've enjoyed these past months is over, replaced by constant vigilance. The safety I'd started taking for granted was never as solid as I thought.
But I can still feel his kiss, his cool touch on my face. What we share isn't just some diving partnership or business deal. It's something deeper, more real. Something worth protecting no matter what.
I think about our nights in hidden coves, talking about his world and mine, the perfect way his tentacles wrap around me. Losing any of that, even temporarily, hurts worse than any business setback ever could.
As Deep Pockets slips out of the cove, I watch the dark water with new awareness of what's hidden below. Not just Cyreus, but everything we've built between us. A connection that's now facing its first real threat.
Brian Donovan and his research team think they're hunting some weird marine phenomenon, a scientific curiosity.
What they don't get is they're threatening something a hell of a lot more important.
A relationship that shouldn't even be possible.
A connection that turned two lonely lives into something neither of us could have had alone.
And that's something I'll fight like hell to protect.