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tingled where they’d touched, as if she belonged in his arms. The need to
get his hands on her again curled through his gut. He couldn’t let her die, not
when he’d just found her.

 
     
     Chapter Four
     
    S hayla concentrated on finding
the surface and shot up through the water. As she broke topside, she gasped for
air, her chest rattling as she inhaled. She treaded water, the strap of her bag
nearly strangling her, and she clutched the last of her belongings like a
lifeline. A large wave smacked into her hard enough to send her tumbling. She clawed
her way back to the surface, bobbed in the water, and waited for the dark head
of her savior to appear.
    And waited.
    Night had fallen. The
rain had slackened to a cold drizzle. The tide tugged her inexorably toward a
collection of jagged rocks surrounding the cliff.
    Away from her would-be
rescuer.
    The water smashed
into the stone with stunning force, hard enough to break her into pieces. High
above her, water blasted out of the tunnel before crashing into the ocean. The
frothy water churned like some hungry creature searching for prey.
    They were lucky to be
alive.
    The side of her face
throbbed, her back was so bruised that each breath caused her ribs to ache. If
she pushed herself, she might be able to reach the shore.
    Barely.
    But not if she
lingered much longer.
    Shayla slapped the
water at the impossible decision.
    If she left, he was
dead.
    If she stayed, her
chances for survival were drastically reduced.
    She remembered the
way he turned his back on the man who’d imprisoned him in order to save her. The
way he cradled her in his warm embrace, protecting her from hurt until they
were dragged further and further from the surface. With one last touch of her
skin, the man had relinquished his hold.
    To save her.
    Not willing to give
up on him so easily, Shayla closed her eyes and sank below the surface. The
storm faded to a peaceful silence below the waves. Water swirled around her,
pulling and tugging, and she drew on what her grandfather called her faerie
magic.
    A warm glow came to
her like a small flame on a candle. That’s usually as far as she went. To
search for people, she had to crack open the door between the worlds. The Frost
World was inhabited by the dead, and they didn’t take kindly to intruders,
reminders of the living.
    They nearly killed
her the last time.
    No wraiths or
vengeful ghosts would be lurking about in the middle of the sea, waiting to
ambush her, or so she tried to reassure herself. Not all were vicious, but the
violent ones gravitated toward her, as though they sensed she was the key to
their release. A spirit’s touch burned on contact. Their lightest contact left
bruises that she would wear for days.
    And those weren’t the
only problems. The longer she lingered in the other world, the more
repercussions she’d suffer, so she had to do this fast.
    Taking the gamble,
Shayla concentrated her rescuer. The connection snapped together quickly. The
water temperature dropped dramatically, her gift consuming the warmth from
around her, needing the heat to fuel her search. The chill of the sea burned
her skin raw, while her insides hoarded the heat like a greedy miser.
    Her body stiffened as
she swam, her lungs constricting painfully while her blood slowly overheated.
    Darkness pressed in
around her from every direction, and she concentrated on feeding the spark. The
sea grew dim. The flickering glow of the flame burst into an inferno, spilling
into the underwater world around her. Shapes began to take form as anything
living or burdened with a soul reflected the light. Her head throbbed as she
used a part of her brain that normally remained dormant.
    At first she saw
nothing but sea life, fish large and small like brilliant stars against the
backdrop. Then her caveman’s body blazed like the sun some fifteen feet below
her.
    And sinking fast.
    With a kick, Shayla
pushed lower, more than a little unnerved to be virtually blind in the