I shoveled juicy chunks of watermelon into my mouth despite the way my stomach protested. Surely, when that old book recommended eating watermelon- filled with sugar and a ton of fluid- it hadn't meant this much. But if watermelon was supposed to be so wonderful at increasing a siren's abilities, how come I was staring at the tiny puddle in the sink willing it to move while it did nothing?

With a frustrated, half scream, I gave up on the watermelon and returned back to the musty old pages. Weather could also increase my chances of making this working, but now that we were nearly in December, rain was not likely. Humidity in general wasn't common in landlocked Alberta. When the air became wet, it just snowed or rained and the next day was filled with dry air.

I was as hydrate as I had ever been, definitely drinking too much water because I had to make frequent trips to the toilet. 

And, nothing. The water was acting like it had never known me.

I spent my nights hunched over that book, trying to keep my obsession from Easton while I gathered as much information as possible. I skipped over the section about location. I was here, with Easton and he was doing all he could to protect me. Leaving would only thin out our resources like he had said and I couldn't ask him to leave his pack or bring them along to other locations. 

Misty still showed up twice a week. We never looked at the books she left me together, not that I minded. For the most part, she would try to ignore my desperation. We would do one small exercise, sometimes I could complete it, sometimes I couldn't. So far, I hadn't been able to move water, but I had been able to compel her. It had been something that she laughed about at first, both of us thinking that a siren couldn't possibly force another to do anything, yet she stared at me wide eyed while she stood on one foot, patting her head. 

Not that it mattered. I could be as strong as I wanted, Nero was out of my reach. He was beyond the control of the sea and he was beyond the werewolf realm. 

The bathroom door creaked open, letting my bright light spill into the pitch black hallway. I worked quickly, my fingers releasing the plug at the bottom of the sink and snapping the book shut.

Easton stood in the doorframe, sleepy-eyed and unimpressed.

"What are you doing up to late?" I asked, my voice light with concern. Even with all of my distractions, I wasn't oblivious to the way the rings under his eyes were darkening, the way he was becoming clumsier and less focused during the day.

"I could hear you swearing from my bedroom," he replied.

"I'm sorry, I was just getting ready for bed."

"You're a liar."

"Easton-"

"I have let this go because I thought that this was what you needed. You needed to connect with another siren and you needed to read about who and what you are. I thought that you would feel stronger, more empowered after a few weeks, but you haven't. It's been a month since that awful night and you're only getting worse. You spend your days working or at the gym and you spend your nights trying to convince me that you're sleeping when you're really doing this."

"Please, just one more night," I begged.

"No, you don't even get another second," he said. Then, he was grabbing at my wrist, dragging me out of the tiny bathroom that had become my prison. I didn't even have the strength to resist or argue. I just stumbled after him, following him to his bedroom. "I obviously can't trust you to just go to bed and take care of yourself so you're going to sleep in my bed tonight. Change into these and get in bed," he ordered. He left a second later.

I slipped out of my clothes and bra and into the baggy tee shirt and sweatpants he provided. I would be lying if I claimed that having his sweet smell swirl around me didn't soothe me a little bit. Most girls would have been nervous in their significant other's bedroom for the first time, but Easton was so open and caring that it didn't feel all that intimate. He told me everything I needed to know and his room was a reflection of things I already knew. He had a picture of Rose, Elliot and Hazel at a Halloween party. He had a couple academic awards on the wall as well. And a world map hung one on wall, showing off all the places he had been with little pins.

Following his instructions, I clambered into his bed and automatically pulled the blanket up to my chin. I should have been doing a thousand different things, trying to figure out what was wrong with me, how to defeat Nero, where he would strike next. But, all I could think about was how warm his worn in quilt was and how comforting the heaviness was.

Easton smiled at me when he ambled back into the bedroom, two steaming mugs in his hands. There was still strain in his expression, but a little relief now too. 

"I brought you a tea that's supposed to help with calming you down through herbs and stuff. I know you don't like tea, but it would be nice if you could try it," he explained, setting one mug on the nightstand closest to me. 

He then proceeded to place his own teacup on the opposite side and slip under the covers. When he caught me watching him, he paused. "Is this alright? I can sleep on the couch if you'd prefer, I just thought that-"

"I would really like it if you held me," I encouraged. 

I humored him with a few sips of the tea. It wasn't as bad as I thought it would be. We chatted a little bit, though it was clear that my abilities and Nero were not to be the topic of discussion. Easton talked about a young boy that he was volunteering with, explaining the child's struggles with the foster care system. I told him about a couple of things that happened around the barn, safely nestled in his arms. 

I fell asleep in no time. 

When I woke up, Easton informed me that we were going to spend the day at a local swimming pool not far from his packlands. When I rummaged for my swimsuit in my suitcase, I glanced over at the leather bound, worn books. I still had so much work to do, so much to conquer and I felt like I was getting closer to some unknown deadline. Being dunked in a chemical filled pool was not going to help me hone in my powers. 

But I owed Easton this much. 

It only made sense that I was a gifted swimmer, but Easton...Easton was not. At the very least, I was able to appreciate how wonderful he looked in swimming shorts, his chest bare. But his doggy paddle was the stuff of nightmares. He looked like he would benefit greatly from waterwings, but he didn't seem to care. 

All he cared about was making me laugh. He did everything he could to make me smile. He wrestled with me until one of us went underwater. He would swim as awkwardly as he could until I snorted. And once I was in a laughing fit, he would hold me in his arms and smile against my wet skin.

I had forgotten how good it felt to just be in the water. I had wrapped my mind around one objective and I had neglected the fact that this was in my blood, this was who I was. I was more at home here, being splashed and soaked, than I was anywhere else. Despite everything that had happened, the water was my friend, so close to my heart that I knew it almost as well as I knew myself. 

I was still laughing and grinning as Easton pulled up to his house, greasy fast food in my lap because that was our deal today. No cooking and running a pack for him, no working with the water or gym time for me. We were going to take a break from everything and anything that was in our daily routine. 

But when we slipped out of the Tacoma, Elliot materialized on the porch, his expression somber.

"Alpha, there's been another attack."

~~~Question of the Day~~~

Have you ever been to a live play or similar art performance? Did you like it?

I'm a hard core enthusiast of the arts. I go to the Alberta Ballet every year and my see my local orchestra preform something whenever I can.