Day 8 — Day 2/2

The pleasant young attendant Katherine had spoken with earlier returned to the loungers carrying a tray balanced against one palm. Three tall glasses rested on it beneath bright little paper umbrellas, each drink fading from pale gold at the bottom to a warm coral near the top.

Evelyn lowered her book.

Mara looked from the glasses to Katherine. “It is not even lunch yet.”

Katherine accepted the first drink without hesitation. “We are at a resort beach.” She adjusted the umbrella so it stopped brushing her nose. “Mid-morning cocktails with tiny decorative parasols are very nearly mandatory.”

“That sounds invented,” Evelyn said.

“Most good customs are.”

Mara laughed and accepted one. Evelyn held out for another few seconds before taking the third.

The attendant gave Katherine a small nod. “Enjoy.”

“I intend to.”

She departed toward the pavilion. Out on the volleyball court, Fiona bounced the ball once against her palm while Van and Claire shifted into position on the other side of the net.

Evelyn took a cautious sip. Fruit, citrus, something herbal, and enough alcohol to warm her tongue without announcing itself too aggressively. “Was this why you voted for a beach day?”

Katherine looked offended by the accusation. “Of course not.” She took a longer drink. “But if my kidnappers have a recreational budget, I see no moral reason not to run up the tab.”

Mara almost choked on her straw.

On the court, Fiona served. Van had meant what he said. The ball came over hard enough that his first instinct was still to brace, but this time he stepped into it, caught the serve cleanly on both forearms, and sent it high toward Claire.

Claire was already moving. She didn’t look up until the ball had almost reached her; Crowning Glory gave her the shape of the space around her. She planted and set the ball backward just as Van crossed behind her and jumped.

He rose higher than Cassie expected. Her eyes tracked him for half a beat too long. The jump was enough to make him look considerably less ordinary than he had five minutes ago. Van brought his hand down hard and drove the ball toward the open left side.

Cassie was still looking at the way his muscles pulled across his abs when Fiona moved. Cover Girl caught Fiona’s position at the edge of Cassie’s awareness before the distraction could become a mistake; Cassie stepped right without looking, clearing Fiona’s path at the exact instant Fiona cut left and dove beneath the ball.

“I knew you were there,” Cassie said as Fiona pushed herself upright.

“No, you didn’t,” she spit the words. “You were staring at him.”

“I can multitask.” Cassie jumped on the next touch and sent the ball across. Claire barely saved it before the back line, and the rally kept going.

Once Van stopped playing carefully, the game changed character. He wasn’t suddenly great at the game—Fiona’s training, Claire’s spatial awareness, and the transformed coordination between Cassie and Fiona still gave them advantages he couldn’t match—but he covered more court, committed to jumps, and stopped floating his serves over like apologies. The first time he tried to spike through Fiona’s block, she stuffed the ball straight back into his shoulder. Cassie laughed so hard she nearly missed Claire’s return.

“Still worth trying,” Van said somewhat sheepishly.

Fiona’s mouth twitched. Two points later, Claire set a high return toward him and Fiona moved to block the same straight-line swing he had used before. Van looked at the open center, waited for Fiona to shift, then tapped the ball softly over her fingertips. It dropped into the sand behind her.

Claire whooped and slapped his shoulder. “There we go.”

Cassie pointed across the net. “Where the hell was that five minutes ago?”

“Apparently I had to get the point insulted out of me.”

Fiona retrieved the ball. “Do it again.”

He laughed. “That sounded less like encouragement than you probably meant it to.”

The next rally lasted long enough for everyone to lose track of how many times the ball had been returned. Winner’s Eye kept feeding Fiona small openings, while Cassie’s altered awareness continued doing something stranger: she and Fiona shifted around each other without calling, each arriving where the other needed her. When Cassie crossed behind Fiona to save a return she had barely seen coming, she stared at her own landing spot after the point ended.

“That is still creepy.”

“You keep saying that like creepy and useful are mutually exclusive.”

Across the court, Claire bent with both hands on her knees, smiling while she caught her breath. “You two are getting annoyingly good at that.”

Van wiped one forearm across his forehead. “I thought the rule was no powers.”

“Traitor,” Cassie told him. “But transformations don’t count because we can’t turn them off.”

Near the waterline, Lizzy and Naomi had become the match’s least impartial neutral spectators. They cheered for good plays from either side. In practice, Lizzy’s attention kept drifting toward one particular player.

Van chased a bad return toward the back line, reached it at full extension, and managed to send the ball high enough for Claire to save the rally. He stumbled when he landed, recovered without falling, and sprinted back toward the center.

Lizzy clapped before anyone else did. Naomi looked at her with a calm smile, but Lizzy never saw it.

A few exchanges later, Van jumped again. Sweat had darkened his hair along his forehead and temples, and the water from his earlier swim had given way to a sheen of heat and effort over his shoulders and torso. Lizzy followed him from one side of the court to the other until Naomi finally decided five seconds was enough.

“Is the score particularly interesting?”

Lizzy blinked. “What?”

“The score.” Naomi kept her tone perfectly mild. “You seem very focused.”

Lizzy looked at her. Naomi smiled.

Color rose into Lizzy’s face. “He is playing well.” She crossed her arms defensively. “You are implying something.”

“I would never.”

Lizzy gave her an expression that said she had spent too much time around Cassie to accept that defense from anyone.

Naomi finally laughed. “All right. I was implying something.” She glanced toward Van just as he bent forward with his hands on his thighs, breathing hard after another long rally. Naomi’s eyes stayed there for perhaps half a second longer than necessary.

Then she looked back at Lizzy. “I understand the distraction.”

Lizzy made a small strangled sound. “Naomi.”

“What? I’m agreeing with you.”

“That is worse.” Lizzy deliberately turned away from the volleyball court.

The Grill Master stood at the pavilion with his back toward them. The white apron did almost nothing from that angle. His shoulders, back, and legs were fully exposed except for the bright-blue brief stretched over his hips. He reached up to adjust a warming tray, and synthetic muscles moved beneath skin copied with insulting accuracy from Van.

Lizzy stared for one horrified second. Then she covered her face. Naomi followed her line of sight and broke into helpless laughter.

“There is no safe direction,” Lizzy complained through her hands.

Naomi tried to stop laughing and failed. “Apparently not.”

Naomi leaned closer, lowering her voice. “Perhaps look directly at the lake.”

Lizzy peeked between her fingers. The final point happened while both of them were still laughing.

Van drove a hard return toward Fiona’s right. She reached it. Claire recovered the next touch and sent the ball back deep. Cassie saved it awkwardly, leaving Fiona with almost no angle at all.

Fiona took the shot anyway.

The ball cleared Van’s hands by inches, caught the line behind him, and buried itself in the sand.

Cassie threw both arms into the air. “Victory!”

Claire dropped onto her back in the sand. “What a match, though!”

Van bent over again, breathing hard. “Good game.”

Fiona crossed the net and retrieved the ball. Van offered Claire a hand. She took it and let him pull her upright.

Cassie pointed at them both. “You know what this means.”

Claire brushed sand from her hip. “That you will be unbearable about it?”

“Forfeit.”

Fiona snorted. “Don’t be ridiculous; there’s no forfeit.”

“We established combat on the ancient field of battle,” Cassie argued. “I have been trying to get a legitimate forfeit for days, and every time I win she invents another technicality. I am never going to get a minion for the day at this rate.”

Claire stared at her. “A what?”

“Nothing.” Fiona pushed the volleyball into Cassie’s stomach. “Ignore her.”

Cassie hugged the ball to herself. “That sounds like propaganda from someone afraid of becoming my minion.”

Fiona walked away.

Cassie called after her. “Coward!”

Fiona raised one hand without turning. The gesture contained a single finger.

Van laughed, still trying to get his breathing under control.

Fiona slowed and looked back at him. “You played well.”

“For an unempowered human,” she added, as if the qualification made the compliment safer.

“Thank you for preserving the hierarchy.”

She ignored that. “But the game was better once you started trying.”

Van looked toward the net and rubbed one shoulder. “Yeah. It was. I thought taking it easy was being polite.” He gave the sand a small kick. “It wasn’t.”

Fiona held his gaze for another second, then gave him one short nod and continued toward the water.

* * *

Mara watched Fiona go from beneath the shade of her umbrella. “That was progress.”

Evelyn had returned to her book, although she was looking over the top edge rather than reading it. “Define progress.”

“She complimented him without threatening bodily harm.”

Katherine swirled what remained in her glass. “The standards around here are remarkably adaptable.”

Mara settled deeper into her lounge. “I still don’t understand why Verena picked Fiona.”

Evelyn’s gaze moved toward the red-haired woman walking along the shoreline. “For the Hotel?”

“For any of it.” Mara lowered her voice. “If the goal is to make this arrangement work, Fiona seems like a terrible choice. She fights every part of the structure. She challenges Verena in public. She threatens the staff.”

“She tried to kill Verena first,” Katherine corrected.

Mara winced. “Yes. That too.”

Evelyn closed the book around one finger. The alcohol had left a pleasant warmth behind her eyes. She had consumed less than half the glass and felt more relaxed than the amount justified.

“I think the resistance may be part of the point,” she said.

Mara frowned. “You think Verena wanted someone difficult?”

“I think we should be careful about assuming Verena’s stated objective is the only objective in play.” Evelyn glanced toward the pavilion and then back toward the court. “She says the Architect must be stopped. I believe she means that. I also believe the people running this place care very much about producing a show.”

Katherine took another sip. “Those motives are not mutually exclusive.”

“No.” Evelyn shifted her book onto her lap. “And we do not know what limits Verena or her Producers actually operate under. Their demonstrated power is extraordinary, but extraordinary is not the same thing as unlimited.”

Mara nodded slowly.

Evelyn continued. “What we do know is that if simple compliance were the only thing they valued, selecting Fiona would be bizarre. She creates friction. She challenges the structure. She forces everyone else to define their own position in response to her.”

Mara looked back toward Fiona, now arguing with Cassie near the edge of the water. “So the resistance is content.”

Katherine sighed. “You are both missing the larger problem.”

Evelyn turned toward her.

Katherine pointed one finger lazily toward Fiona. “If she ever decides to sleep with Van, he is going to need a referee.”

Mara made an undignified noise into her drink.

Evelyn laughed before she could stop herself.

Mara answered by creating a tiny boxing ring above the sand between their loungers. It was built from an enormous bed, white pillows stacked in the corners like turnbuckles. A miniature Fiona bounced on bare feet at one side in boxing gloves while a miniature Van raised both hands defensively; a second later, tiny Cassie appeared in black-and-white referee stripes and blew an imaginary whistle with enormous authority.

Katherine nodded approvingly. “Exactly.” Mara collapsed against the back of her lounge laughing, and Evelyn joined her before she could stop herself.

The laugh came too easily. Evelyn took stock of the warmth in her face, her loose shoulders, and the missing tension at the base of her neck. She had not had enough alcohol for any of that.

“Katherine. What, precisely, is in this?”

Katherine finally looked away from miniature Cassie, checked her own glass, glanced at Mara’s, and smiled around her straw. “I told the attendant to surprise me, so I have no idea.”

A brass bell rang from the pavilion before Evelyn could respond. The Grill Master raised one hand. “Lunch is ready.”

Fiona looked toward him and immediately began grumbling.

The smell of grilled meat, peppers, onions, and toasted bread was enough to move the group despite her complaints. Plates appeared at the serving table. The Grill Master began portioning food with cheerful mechanical efficiency, still wearing the ridiculous apron and blue swim brief.

Fiona approached with Cassie at her side, attention fixed on the droid. “I hate that thing. I hate whoever designed it.”

“That’d be Alpha.” Cassie caught her by the upper arm. “Preventative maintenance. Remember what Verena said about property damage.”

“I wasn’t going to do anything.” Fiona pulled free. “I do not need to be restrained like I’m about to—”

Her elbow struck the counter. The impact was not hard, but it was enough to make a bottle of cooking oil wobble on the narrow shelf above the Grill Master.

Cassie saw it first. “Oh, no.”

The bottle tipped, pouring oil over the droid’s shoulder, chest, and apron. Everyone stopped. The Grill Master looked down at himself and, with the calm practicality of a machine solving a simple problem, untied the apron.

Van closed his eyes. “No.”

The droid removed the apron, leaving only the bright-blue swim brief, and used the apron to wipe at the oil. It didn’t help.

The first pass spread the shine across his chest. He twisted to reach one shoulder, ran the apron down his side, then bent to wipe along one leg. The oil caught sunlight across every movement. By the time he straightened again, he had managed to distribute it with remarkable thoroughness over most of the lines of his body. Every time he stretched to wipe at the oil, a new group of simulated muscles bunched and pulled.

Cassie slowly turned toward Fiona. Fiona’s face had gone red, which raised Cassie’s eyebrows all by itself.

Fiona vibrated with suppressed outrage. “Don’t.”

“I didn’t say anything.”

“You were about to.” When Cassie looked back at the droid, Fiona caught her by the chin and turned her face away. “Stop looking.”

“Why?”

“Because you’re making it worse for everyone.”

Van had turned his back entirely on the pavilion.

Claire pressed her lips together so hard that the effort became visible. Lizzy stared determinedly at her plate. Naomi was suddenly fascinated by a bowl of fruit salad.

The Grill Master bent again, working uselessly at the back of one calf. The movement turned his clenched cheeks directly towards the contestants and revealed the darkening fabric of his speedo, which was pulled tight by his twisting body.

Mara covered her mouth.

Katherine murmured, “This feels deliberate.”

Evelyn rose. “We are leaving the immediate area.”

No one argued.

They collected their food and migrated as a group toward the water, choosing a shaded stretch far enough from the pavilion that the droid could no longer occupy the center of anyone’s vision.

Fiona sat cross-legged in the sand with her plate balanced on one knee. “We are not discussing the robot.”

“Agreed,” Mara said.

Cassie opened her mouth.

“No,” barked Fiona.

Cassie took a bite of her sandwich instead.

The agreement survived perhaps thirty seconds.

Katherine looked at Van. “You especially should not feel bad about what happened.”

Katherine continued with calm sincerity. “No one blames you. The robot did, objectively, make you look good.”

Van’s ears turned red.

Mara nodded. “The oil was difficult to walk away from.”

Van put his plate down. “Why are we talking about this?”

“We agreed not to,” Fiona reminded them.

Cassie pointed at Katherine with one piece of grilled pepper. “She broke first.”

“It was a supportive observation.”

“About how good I apparently look covered in oil?” Van asked.

Katherine considered. “Yes.”

Mara started laughing again. Evelyn felt another laugh pushing at the back of her throat and became irritated with it.

“Enough.” The word came sharper than she intended.

Everyone looked at her as she set down her cup. “No further discussion of whether Van looks attractive nearly naked and covered in oil.”

Silence.

Van looked as though he wanted to drown himself in the lake.

Katherine stared at Evelyn. Then at her own almost-empty glass. “Oh.”

Evelyn followed her gaze. Mara’s cup was nearly empty too.

Katherine lifted one finger toward the attendant station. “Excuse me.”

The same young woman approached a moment later. “Yes?”

Katherine held up her drink. “What did you serve us?”

The attendant smiled pleasantly. “You asked for something to help everyone relax.”

“What is it called?”

“Loose Lips.”

Evelyn looked at Mara. Mara looked into her own glass as though it had personally betrayed her.

The attendant continued. “It is one of Pixie’s recipes. The bartender said it is very effective.”

“At what?” Katherine asked.

“Reducing unnecessary defensiveness. It combines alcohol with a mild magical disinhibiting effect.”

Katherine slowly lowered the glass. “Of course it does.”

The attendant seemed uncertain whether that was approval.

Katherine gave her a polite smile. “Thank you.”

She waited until the attendant left before turning back to the others. “I apologize.”

Claire, who had not been drinking, sat down beside Van. “For what?”

“I could not have predicted that the staff would serve us an aphrodisiac.”

“That’s not what she said.”

Katherine regarded Claire coolly. “It relaxes inhibition, amplifies the willingness to say what one is thinking, and arrives in a cocktail.”

Claire tilted her head.

“In effect,” Katherine said, “the distinction is largely academic.”

Evelyn picked up her cup, considered the remaining swallow, and set it down again. “She is not entirely wrong.”

Mara groaned softly. “I drank almost all of mine.”

“So did I.” Evelyn folded her hands in her lap. The pleasant looseness remained, but knowing its source made it easier to put edges around it. “There is no reason for everyone else to stop enjoying the afternoon. We are not incapacitated.”

“You just incapacitated Van with your admirations,” Cassie said, pointing at the red-faced young man.

“I believe this topic is closed,” Evelyn said somewhat primly. She ignored Cassie, who was sticking her tongue out, and said, “I will switch to nonalcoholic drinks.”

Mara raised her hand. “Same.”

Katherine sighed and pushed her own glass aside. “Fine.”

The matter ended there. They finished lunch. Conversation drifted back toward safer subjects. No one mentioned oil again, although every time someone looked toward the pavilion and immediately looked somewhere else, Cassie’s mouth threatened to curl upward.

Eventually the group scattered across the beach.

Claire returned to the water. Naomi swam slow, careful laps parallel to shore. Fiona and Cassie disappeared deeper into the lake after arguing about who had committed more unforced errors during the volleyball game. Van waded in after Claire. Evelyn found a fresh drink that contained sparkling water and lime. Katherine and Mara reclaimed their loungers.

Lizzy came to Mara while searching her own tote. “Can I borrow your sunscreen?”

Mara marked her place in the book with one finger. “You forgot yours?”

Lizzy nodded while Mara reached into her beach bag and handed over the bottle. “Planning to ask Van to put it on for you?”

Lizzy turned scarlet. “No. I would never.”

Mara smiled. “Never?”

Lizzy opened her mouth, stopped, and looked toward the water. Van and Claire were splashing one another in the shallows. Van turned at something Claire said. Even from this distance, Lizzy could see him laugh.

Lizzy looked back at Mara. “Not never.”

“That is a much healthier answer.”

Lizzy made a face. “You are a terrible influence.”

“Probably.” Mara returned to her book. “But you do hesitate too much.”

Lizzy began rubbing sunscreen onto one arm. “It isn’t just hesitation.”

“No?”

She lowered her voice. “I don’t think I could keep my top on if he touched me like that.”

Mara looked up as Lizzy’s blush deepened. “You know what I mean.”

“I do.”

“I’m still having accidents when I get embarrassed. Or…”

Mara grinned. “Interested?”

Lizzy glared at her.

Mara laughed. “That is a common problem in courtship. Not superpower accidents, but suddenly losing your top?”

Lizzy slapped her lightly on the shoulder with the back of one hand. Mara laughed harder.

“Very helpful,” Lizzy said sarcastically.

“I try.” Mara looked at the sunscreen bottle, then at her book. “I am not putting that on your back.”

“I support sun safety. I also do not want greasy hands on my book.” Mara pointed toward the water. “Go recruit one of the swimmers.”

* * *

Naomi pushed wet hair back from her face as the water dropped from waist to thigh to knee around her.

Lizzy met her near the dry sand. “Are you done?”

“For a little while.” Naomi glanced toward the changing booths. “I was going to change before I get too much sun.”

Claire heard from several yards away. “Boooo!” She cupped both hands around her mouth. “Stay!”

Naomi looked over. “I am considering the health of my skin.”

“Cowardice.” Claire laughed and went back to bothering Van.

Lizzy held up Mara’s sunscreen. “I was trying to find someone to help with my back.”

Naomi’s eyes went from the bottle to Lizzy’s hands. The hesitation was small but immediate.

“I have gloves. I could do that,” she said, then touched one strap of her swimsuit without moving. “My back needs it too. But I shouldn’t ask you to do mine.”

Lizzy’s smile faded as she understood the problem. Sunscreen meant sustained skin contact while Naomi’s suit kept much of the Valve’s pressure concentrated.

Lizzy glanced toward the changing booths and back. “I have a slightly weird idea.”

Naomi’s eyebrows lifted. “That is becoming a theme.”

“Come on.”

They took the sunscreen into the changing area. The booths stood mostly empty now. Lizzy pulled a simple chair away from the wall and set it in the open space between two stalls.

Lizzy pointed at the chair. “Sit facing away from me.” Lizzy swallowed once. “If you pull the top of the suit down…”

Naomi sat and looked over one shoulder.

Lizzy hurried through the rest. “You said more exposed skin makes the Valve easier to control. If most of your skin is uncovered, it should be easier for you to keep it closed while I do your back. Only for a minute. And if it feels wrong, we stop.”

Naomi turned forward and considered it for several seconds before a faint smile appeared. “That is a good idea.”

Lizzy’s shoulders loosened. Naomi checked the curtain openings and the path back toward the beach, then worked the swimsuit down from her shoulders until the upper half was folded securely around her waist. Her hands started to rise toward her chest by reflex, stopped, and settled against her thighs instead.

She sat still, breathed, and closed her eyes. With so much of her skin exposed, the pressure of the drain spread out instead of concentrating beneath the suit. She pictured the Valve the way Mirel had taught her to think about it: a mechanism, not a moral verdict and not a fear response. Closed. Stable.

Naomi opened her eyes. “All right.”

“You’re sure?”

“Yes.”

Lizzy squeezed sunscreen into one palm and touched the space between Naomi’s shoulder blades. Naomi felt her power recognize living skin and the familiar possibility of the drain, but the Valve stayed closed while Lizzy spread the sunscreen carefully across her upper back and shoulders.

No surge came. Lizzy’s hands never tightened. Naomi kept breathing, and a completely ordinary task continued for almost a minute. Lizzy worked the cream into Naomi’s back and shoulders, causing a small flinch at the feel of it. Lizzy’s small hands worked in steady small circles, moving quickly across the parts of her skin exposed by her suit.

When Lizzy finished, she pulled her hands away. “Done.”

Naomi let out a breath she had not realized she was saving. Her eyes burned unexpectedly.

Lizzy saw the change in her posture. “Are you okay?”

Naomi laughed once, softly. “Yes.” She wiped at one eye with the heel of her hand. “I’m very okay.”

Lizzy smiled.

Naomi looked at the sunscreen bottle. “Turn around. I am returning the favor.”

Lizzy hesitated, then turned so her back faced Naomi. Naomi left her suit pulled down to keep her drain under as much control as possible. She began putting sunscreen across Lizzy’s shoulders and down the center of her back with quick, practical strokes. The contact was skin against skin. Her Valve remained closed. This time the control came more easily.

When she finished, Naomi capped the bottle. Lizzy started to turn but Naomi pressed a hand against her back. “Wait.”

Naomi pulled the top of her own suit back into place first, adjusting the straps securely over her shoulders. “All right.”

Lizzy turned with a smile.

Naomi looked down at her hands, then back at Lizzy. “That made me absurdly happy.”

“It was just sunscreen.”

“I know.” Naomi laughed, and there was no embarrassment in it. “That’s the point.”

Lizzy waited as Naomi’s expression softened.

“I never thought I would get to have little moments like that with a girlfriend. Someone helping with sunscreen. Helping with a dress zipper. Borrowing something. Touching without counting layers of protection.”

Lizzy’s smile became gentler. “You should get to.”

Naomi nodded, and then her mouth curved. “I admit I also never expected I would need to have my breasts out to make the sunscreen part safer.”

Lizzy burst out laughing.

Naomi shrugged. “Progress is progress, I guess.”

“It really didn’t bother me.” Lizzy looked down at her own suit. “It is only when I’m the one losing clothes that my brain stops working.”

“That seems inconvenient.”

“You have no idea.”

Naomi gave her a look.

Lizzy reconsidered. “Actually, you probably have a very good idea.”

They walked back toward the lake together.

* * *

Van and Claire had moved from splashing one another to trying to skip flat stones across the shallow water.

Claire was winning through the deeply unfair advantage of being able to correct a bad throw after it left her hand.

Van stared at the stone that had just changed angle in midair and skipped seven times. “That is cheating.”

Claire held one hand to her chest. “You have wounded me.”

Farther out, a square swim platform floated beyond the shallows. Cassie and Fiona were already on it, still arguing about volleyball.

Claire pointed. “Want to go out there?”

Van studied the distance. “Sure.”

They swam toward it together. Claire reached the platform first, climbed onto the edge, and rolled onto her back. Van pulled himself up a moment later.

Cassie did not acknowledge either arrival. “I still maintain the win should count.”

Fiona sat near the opposite edge with her feet in the water. “It was a team game. You didn’t beat Van by yourself.”

Cassie pointed at herself, then at Fiona. “We beat Van. We also beat Claire. Fine, I’ll make them both minions.”

Fiona glanced at Van. “She’s joking. She keeps saying it because she thinks it annoys me.”

“I assumed,” Van said.

Cassie smiled sweetly. “It does.”

Fiona’s eyes narrowed.

Claire scooped a ribbon of lake water into the air with telekinesis. Cassie noticed a fraction too late. The water slapped into both Cassie and Fiona from the side. Cassie shrieked. Fiona jerked upright.

Claire laughed. “Cool it.”

Fiona pushed wet hair out of her face. “That’s not fair. If we use our powers, we destroy the dock.”

Claire adopted an expression of grave self-importance. “That sounds like a you problem.”

Cassie pointed at her. “Oh, I hate Hero Princess.”

Claire lifted her chin. “Jealousy is an unattractive trait.”

Fiona leaned close enough that Claire expected another insult. “Go jump in a lake,” she whispered.

The command pressure slipped behind the joke. Claire’s mind clouded suddenly. She stepped off the edge with the smooth immediacy of a body obeying before the mind caught up and vanished into the water with a splash.

Fiona’s amusement erupted with a sharp laugh.

Gold-tinged force broke the surface a second later. Claire rose dripping, her red hair floating around her head in damp ropes. She pointed at Fiona, but the corner of her mouth had already begun to lift. “Poor sportsmanship.”

“Hey, you started it.”

“I know.” Claire landed on the platform. “Still poor sportsmanship.”

Cassie looked between them. Then she lifted one hand. “Just so everyone understands the escalation ladder, if we are playing with powers, I can play too.”

Claire and Fiona both turned toward her. Cassie looked down at their swimsuits. “Neither of those is surviving a plasma demonstration.”

Claire sat down immediately. “Peace treaty.”

“Agreed,” Fiona said.

Cassie nodded. “Good. I’m like the nuclear deterrent.”

Fiona shoved Claire lightly with one shoulder. Claire shoved her back. Van sat a little apart, watching the water.

The lake opened wide around them. Farther out, a line of buoys marked a rough boundary across the blue surface. Each buoy carried a small red light that blinked at regular intervals.

Cassie noticed them. “What do you think those are?”

Van followed her attention. “Boundary markers?”

“Only one way to find out.” Cassie slid into the water. “Coming, Van?”

Van looked at the buoys, then at the shore behind them. “I’ll stay here.”

Fiona paused. “Why?”

“I’m not a strong swimmer.” Van gestured at the platform. “This is about as far from shore as I want to get on purpose.”

Fiona accepted the answer with a nod.

Cassie started splashing away. “Your loss when we discover pirate treasure.”

“You can have my share.”

Claire sat beside Van with her legs in the water. “You don’t like swimming?”

“I like it fine.”

He watched Cassie and Fiona cut through the water. “I just never did much of it.”

“No pools?”

“Not really.” Van shrugged. “Not where I lived. Not places I had access to, anyway. And after a certain point there was always something else I needed to do.”

Claire dipped one foot beneath the surface.

Van looked toward the beach. “I hope I can use the lake more while I’m here.”

He gave her an awkward half-smile. “If I have to stay here, I mean.”

Claire glanced at him. “I knew what you meant.”

“Not everything about this place is awful.”

Claire’s smile came slowly. “No,” she said. “It isn’t.”

For several seconds, they sat in silence. Then Claire nudged him with one shoulder. “So. Are you enjoying your dates?”

Van immediately looked suspicious. He stared out across the water long enough for his ears to start reddening. “Some of them,” he admitted.

Claire raised one eyebrow.

“All right. Yes.” Van rubbed the back of his neck. “I have enjoyed parts of them. They’re stressful, and I don’t want anyone thinking I expect them to spend time with me, or that because Verena assigned something, they owe me a good evening.”

Claire’s expression softened.

Van kept his attention on the water. “But I didn’t have friends back home. Not really. And now I’m surrounded by…” He made a helpless gesture toward the beach. “All you incredible people.”

Van laughed despite himself. “That sounded lame, even to me.”

He looked toward the shore again. Lizzy and Naomi were walking out of the changing area together. Mara was reading beneath her shade. Katherine had moved one lounge closer to Evelyn. Cassie and Fiona were two dark shapes approaching the buoy line.

“I hate that you only know me because someone assigned you to me,” he said. “I hate that part. But I’m not going to lie and say I haven’t had fun getting to know you guys.”

Claire pushed lightly against his upper arm. “And the kissing part wasn’t so bad either.”

Van froze. His face reddened all at once. “I quietly enjoyed that part.”

“Quietly?”

“Yes.”

Claire laughed. “Why shouldn’t you talk about it?”

Van stared at her as if the answer should have been obvious. “Because Lizzy might not want me talking about her.”

“Lizzy talked about it with me.”

His head snapped. “She what?”

Claire’s grin widened. “She told me about the date.”

Van looked genuinely stricken. “She did?”

“Yes.” Claire let the statement sit as Van’s horror grew.

She leaned closer. “There was quite a lot of detail.”

Van covered his face with both hands. “Oh, God.”

Claire laughed. “She was very clear about the kiss.”

Out near the buoy line, Cassie reached one of the markers first. A red light blinked above it, and a translucent warning panel unfolded in the air as Fiona came alongside her.

CONTAINMENT BOUNDARY

DO NOT CROSS

FIELD MAINTAINS SEPARATION FROM LOCAL WILDLIFE

Cassie read it twice. “Wildlife?”

The water beyond the buoys bulged upward. Something enormous moved beneath the surface, and Cassie backed away just before a reptilian head erupted from the lake. It was long-jawed and larger than either woman, water streaming from rows of teeth as a thick neck rose after it. The creature reared high enough to break its upper body clear of the surface and bellowed.

Fiona went pale. Cassie went paler. “Race you back!”

Cassie turned and swam. Fiona did not argue. On the platform, Claire was airborne before Van finished lowering his hands from his face, gold force already flaring around her. Farther down the beach, Mara filled the sky with a sudden storm of illusory wings—gulls, ravens, hawks, shapes too fast to identify—ready to drag the creature’s attention away if the barrier failed.

The dinosaur lunged. Its jaws struck invisible resistance, and blue-white light erupted along the buoy line as the containment field flexed inward and threw it back. The animal hit the barrier again; another flare lit the water while Fiona and Cassie drove themselves toward the platform.

“Do we help?” Van shouted.

“Barrier is holding,” Claire called, tracking the movement beyond the field. “Stay ready.”

The creature attacked a third time with less commitment. The field flashed, held, and the animal lingered for several seconds before sinking beneath the surface. Mara kept the birds in the air and Claire stayed aloft until the buoy lights returned to their steady red blink.

Cassie reached the platform first. She hit the edge at speed, caught the ladder, and hauled herself up breathing hard.

Fiona arrived several body lengths later. She grabbed the edge and dragged herself onto the platform with considerably less dignity, rolling onto her back.

For several seconds, neither spoke. Van stared at the empty water beyond the barrier. Claire descended slowly.

Cassie sat up first.

Fiona turned her head toward her. “How the hell do you swim that fast?”

Cassie was still breathing too hard to answer immediately. Then she grinned. “All-state swim team.”

Fiona closed her eyes, groaning. “You could have mentioned that before we raced.”

“You never asked.”

Fiona groaned and pushed herself into a sitting position. Cassie’s grin widened.

Fiona looked at her, ready with another insult, but found something stranger in its place: a clean, unreasonable certainty that the race had settled a debt. She had lost. Cassie had won. The result wanted acknowledgment.

Fiona exhaled. “Fine. You win. What do you want?”