Page 51 of Night Shift

I know before I look.

Erebus stands at the edge of the grass.

He isn’t watching me.

He’s watching the water.

His face is stricken.

“MOVE!” Petra bellows.

That breaks the spell.

We haul her backward until her feet find the ramp again. Mrs. Garcia crawls onto the grass clutching Chorizo to her chest, both of them coughing and furious.

Around us, Moonlight Yoga has become a disaster zone.

People are soaked. Mats float in the marina. Someone is crying. Somebody else is laughing hysterically, which seems equally reasonable.

Petra sits on the boat ramp covered in seaweed while three people wrap beach towels around her shoulders.

One leg makes an ominous grinding sound when she moves it.

She looks at me.

“I hate this book.”

I start laughing.

I can’t help it.

Petra laughs too, although hers ends in a groan when she tries to stand.

Mrs. Garcia points at the bay.

“Chorizo almost died.”

The laughter leaves me.

I look at Erebus.

So does everyone else.

He stands beyond the scattered yoga mats, staring at what his night has become.

I find Erebus farther down the waterfront after everyone is safe.

He stands at the railing with his back to me.

For once, I don’t have to wonder what to say.

“You saw that.”

“Yes.”

“Petra could’ve drowned.”

“She cannot drown.”