Romes ran to the edge of the boat.

Glistening tails slashed through the water. Burnt gold. Rusted red. Marigold orange. She thought of ants swarming a crumb, the way they climbed over and top of one another. She could just see a glimpse of Jax's dark hair sinking towards the sandy bottom.

There were too many of them, Romes thought, a pulse pounding in her throat. Too many to risk jumping in after him.

She swore, desperately scanning the ship. Fish? Would that be enough to distract the sirens? But, no; they preferred live prey. It would be like offering a wolf a slice of ham when it already had a squirming rabbit in its jaws.

Cannon? No. Too risky.

Knives? They didn't have enough. Besides, Romes thought, her aim was good, but not that good. She could nail Jax in the forehead.

Xander seized her arm. His dark eyes were wild.

"Wire," he mouthed.

Romes stared at him. Wire? What was she meant to do with that? Lasso the creatures? Xander's fingers dug into her arm. His mouth was moving, forming that same shape over and over again. Wire. Wire.

Oh. Not wire.

Fire.

Romes raced to a wooden crate, pulling out items at random. Maps. Binoculars. A horn-shaped item. Her breath rattled in her chest. Where was it? Where was—? Ah. There. She seized the matches triumphantly. Then, without further ado, she set the crate on fire and chucked it into the sea.

The sirens scattered.

The creatures shot through the water, diving behind coral and slithering into caves. Romes mounted the railing. Burning wreckage floated on the surface of the water; she had about thirty seconds, Romes thought, scanning the sea, until she became siren chow. Maybe less. She braced herself and leapt.

The warm sea filled her nostrils. Her lungs. Everything tasted of salt and iron. She'd never swum around Exerbury — too many monsters — but her mother had regularly taken her to the Silver Pools before she died. Her mother would toss bronze keys and shoes and pearl bracelets into the water, and Romes would dive for each object, returning with it clutched triumphantly in her fist.

She forced her eyes open.

Jax was suspended like a marionette doll, his dark hair fanning out around him. His face was pale. Eyes closed. He was bleeding from his right shoulder, but all his limbs were still attached to his body. A small victory, Romes thought.

She seized his collar.

Romes flipped on to her back, positioning Jax's head on her chest. Then she kicked. It was like swimming through molasses; Jax was slim, but he was heavy. Her legs burned with the effort of propelling them upwards. She couldn't hear anything. Couldn't see anything. The salt water stung her eyes.

Something grabbed her leg.

Romes lashed out viciously, kicking it away. A hand twisted in her hair. She seized her knife, slashing out at random. Her whole body was on fire. Her lungs ached for air, and she could hear a ringing in her ears. Black spots danced in front of her vision.

Her head broke the surface.

She swam blindly — desperately — for the ladder. Xander was already there, seizing Jax by the collar, half-dragging the other boy on to the ship. Claws scraped at her leg. Romes clung to the ladder, kicking out wildly. Something caught her ankle. She slashed her knife until it released her.

The ship jerked to life.

Romes hauled herself upward. The ship was picking up speed, careening towards the open sea. Cliffs flew by in a whirl of green vines. She dragged herself on to the deck, chest burning, coughing so hard that she felt her throat ache. Xander was kneeling over Jax, a frantic look on his face.

"He's not breathing," Xander said.

Romes crawled across the deck. Her wax earplugs must have fallen out, she realized; she could hear the roar of the water, hear Asa cursing colorfully on the quarterdeck. The ship scraped the side of a cliff. She gripped Jax's chin.

"Breathe." She shook him. "Breathe, you idiot!"

Nothing.

Romes dug her hands into her face. This, she thought, was where her expertise ended; she was excellent at killing things. Not so good at saving them. Xander was leaning over Jax, tilting his chin up, pounding his chest in a way that looked painful.

She leaned forward. "If you die on me, Blackwater, I swear to god—"

Jax gasped.

He shot upwards. Then he turned sideways, vomiting seawater all over the deck.

Romes sat back on her heels. Relief bloomed in her chest, so hot and strong that it caught her off guard. Jax wiped at his mouth with a shaky hand. Blood trickled down his right arm, running around his wrist like a red bracelet.

"Romes?" His voice was a croak.

She shook her head. "For gods' sake, Blackwater. I thought you were dead."

"You came in after me." Jax sounded dazed. "You saved my life."

"You're welcome," Romes said.

A knot formed in her throat. She ripped off a strip of her shirt, leaning forward to examine his wound. Xander caught her arm.

"Easy." Xander's voice was grim. "Not too close."

Romes frowned. "He's injured."

"Exactly," Xander said. "Siren magic is incredibly powerful. It's transferred through bodily fluid, so if one of the sirens got a little too close, then it can make the person a little..." He circled a finger near his temple. "You know."

They both watched as Jax rocked back and forth, his chin resting on his long legs. His blue eyes were haunted. Romes crossed her arms.

"He seems fine," she said.

Xander's forehead creased. "Does he?"

"Blackwater," Romes said, raising her voice. "How do you feel?"

Jax blew out a breath. "Strange."

Romes turned to Xander. "You see? He's exactly the same." She stood, offering Jax a hand. "Come on. I'll get you cleaned up. Not," she added, "that you deserve it after that spectacular display of idiocy."

Jax climbed unsteadily to his feet. Xander jumped up.

"I can do it," Xander said.

Romes sheathed her knife. "It's fine."

"Romes." Xander looked wary. "I really don't think you should be alone with him."

She raised an eyebrow. "And you should?"

"I'm..." Xander was blushing. She was sure of it. "Siren magic doesn't work that way. It increases a person's natural sexual inclinations through stimulating the hypothalamus, which in turn releases a rush of hormones that—" He caught her expression. Waved a hand. "Never mind. The details aren't important. The point is that Jax wouldn't be attracted to me, but he might... um..."

Xander trailed off, giving her a significant look. It struck her all at once.

"Oh. Oh." Romes wrinkled her nose. "Gods."

"I can go," Xander said firmly.

"Honestly, it's fine," Romes said. "Look at him." She waved a hand at where Jax was slumped against the railing, his eyes half-closed. "He won't try anything."

Xander adjusted his red bandana. "We can go together, then."

Romes raised an eyebrow. "And leave Asa alone with the pegapiglet? He'll throw it to the sirens."

"Bibi can come too," Xander said. "She prefers it below deck."

And Romes — who hadn't realized the pegapiglet had a name, let alone a gender — gave him a stern look. "Xander. It's fine. I'm carrying six knives on me. If Blackwater tries anything, I'll slice his fingers off."

For a moment, she thought Xander might protest. But the other boy merely blinked, looking deeply perturbed.

"Six?" Xander echoed. "Where?"

Romes almost smiled. "Don't leave Asa alone with the pig."

She helped Jax down the stairs. The cabin was dark; Jax's breathing was laboured as they descended into the shadows, his eyes a slice of blue sky. Romes steered Jax into her bedroom, positioning him on the bed; she could feel his heavy gaze as she dug inside a drawer, producing bandages and scissors.

"Hold still," she said. "Okay?"

Jax nodded.

His jaw was a tense line as she examined him, turning his shoulder gently in her hands. This, Romes thought, was foreign; so much of her life was butchering animals, feeling warm blood and fading heartbeats. Her hands were made for destruction. She didn't have much experience with healing things.

She ran a hand down his shoulder. Jax inhaled sharply.

Romes paused. "Are you alright?"

"Fine." His voice was terse.

"Am I hurting you?"

"Just do it," Jax said.

He was gritting his teeth, as if she might ram a knife into his shoulder. Romes snipped the bandage. Carefully, she lifted his arm, and Jax flinched.

Romes paused. "Blackwater."

"What?"

"Hold still," she said.

His voice was hoarse. "Sorry."

She wound the bandage, her hands working quickly. She was more familiar with this, Romes thought: the careful art of concealing cuts and scrapes and bruises. Not healing, exactly, but camouflage.

Her fingers brushed his shoulder. Jax tensed.

"Seriously," Romes said. "What's up with you?"

His face was hard. "Nothing."

"Cat dung."

"Are you done yet?" Jax asked.

He twisted impatiently, trying to see the bandage. Romes felt a flicker of irritation. "For gods' sake, Blackwater, I've just risked my life to pull you from siren-infested waters. The least you could do is—"

"You really want to know?" Jax cut in.

His dark hair was messy and damp, curling slightly at the edges. His white shirt was soaked through. She could see the ridges of his spine as he breathed. A strange feeling curled in the bottom of her stomach.

"Yes," Romes said.

His face was harsh. "You want to know what I'm thinking?"

"Yes."

"I'm thinking," Jax said, his voice very clear, "about how it would feel to push you up against the dresser. I'm thinking about how your mouth would taste. About the smell of your vanilla chapstick." His breathing was laboured. "Is that what you wanted to hear? Are you satisfied now?"

The words struck her like a physical blow.

Romes turned. She seized the first thing she found — a wool blanket — and began folding it, her heart pounding in her ears. When she spoke, her voice was surprisingly steady. "It's just siren magic."

Jax's voice was unreadable. "Sure."

"It'll pass," she said.

Romes turned. Jax leaned forward. His blue eyes were glittering, hard and unforgiving as sapphires. He looked almost feverish, she thought; his whole face was flushed, and sweat clung to his temples and neck.

"She looked like you," Jax said.

"What?"

"The siren that pulled me under." His voice was low. "She had your face."

Heat crept up her neck. "That's impossible."

"I'm telling you what I saw."

"All of them looked the same, Jax." Romes made her voice firm. "Blonde hair. Blue eyes. They were identical."

"Not this one," Jax said.

She set down the blanket. "Xander said..."

"What did he say?"

A knot balled in her throat. Phrases like sexual inclinations and hypothalamus and rush of hormones came to mind. Romes stared at the itchy blanket. Was it possible that Jax fancied her? That the siren magic made Jax see her face in that water? Was that why he'd jumped off the ship?

No.

Surely not.

Boys didn't fancy girls like her, Romes thought, more firmly; they fancied tiny blonde girls that sipped tea and regularly used words like pink taffeta and embroidery needles. Jax was confused. That was all.

"Never mind," Romes said. "It's not important."

She leaned forward to tie the bandage. Jax caught her hand.

"Don't." He sounded pained.

Romes frowned. "Don't what?"

"Don't touch me," Jax said. "Or I might..."

He closed his eyes. Water droplets slid down his throat, pooling in his collarbone. Heat burned a path through her chest.

"Jax?" Romes asked softly.

His thumb pressed into her wrist. When Jax opened his eyes, the pupils were blown wide, the dark swallowing up most of the blue. She wondered if he could feel the way her pulse was racing under his touch. Feel the staccato beat of her heart.

"I can't stop," Jax murmured. "Gods help me, but I can't stop myself."

He leaned forward.

Romes caught her breath. Don't, a voice said; he's not himself. But it was as if a strange magic had gripped her too, crushing her in its hand. She could feel Jax's warm breath on her lips, smell the salt on his skin—

"Oi!" a voice called.

The door banged open. Romes sprung backward, almost colliding with the cabin wall. Slowly, Jax blinked, as if awakening from a dream. Asa stood in the open doorway, his arms crossed over his chest, studying Jax as if he was examining a soggy piece of fish.

"Bloody hell," Asa said. "You look like crap."

Jax's mouth curved into the ghost of a smile. "Cheers."

"Did you need something?" Romes asked.

She began winding the bandages. Her heart was racing in her chest, and her throat felt like sandpaper. Asa leaned against the doorway. "We're out of Siren Cove. If my calculations are correct—"

"Which they're usually not," Romes muttered.

"Which they are," Asa said, scowling, "then we should reach the Forest of Nightmares by dawn." He tapped the bed with a boot. "You feeling up to it, Fish Food?"

Jax tipped his head back, resting it against the wooden wall. He looked exhausted, Romes thought; his dark lashes cast shadows across his cheekbones, and she could see blue veins in his neck. His throat bobbed.

"Can't wait," Jax said.