With the overhead lights dimmed, the primary illumination in the warehouse was cast by the occupied tanks. Jax’s vision was warped beyond the glass, but the guards were in sight; they stood several body-lengths apart, in the clear space near the door, bouncing a ball back and forth to each other. Their guns leaned against the wall.

Jax remained at the bottom of the tank, watching, waiting. His tentacles were folded under him, slowly coiling and relaxing. It was the only relief — however minor — for his tension. Anticipation had thrummed through his veins since Aymee’s visit. He assumed it had been hours, but it felt like days had passed in that time, and his eyes had continually drifted to the tiny crack on the inside of the glass.

Not while the humans are here.

Fast as Jax was, the humans would reach their guns before he could stop them.

He had to trust in the plan; had to trust that Macy, Aymee, and Camrin knew what they were doing.

Macy was awake and well. Aymee hadn’t been lying, but it was still difficult to accept. Until he could see his mate with his own eyes, touch her with his own limbs, he would be consumed with worry. Of all the things he’d done in his life — after all the dangers he’d willingly faced — letting the humans take Macy away from him had been the most difficult.

The doors slid open slightly, granting Jax a distorted view of the dark purple sky beyond. A figure entered and walked into the light. Camrin.

Jax remained in place as one of the guards bounced the ball; the other missed it, stumbling forward to catch it.

The three humans spoke. The pounding of Jax’s hearts gradually strengthened, soon drowning out the sound of flowing water inside the tank.

Camrin gestured toward Jax, and one of the guards glanced at the tank over his shoulder, frowning.

Was this a betrayal? Was Camrin telling them of the escape plan?

Clenching his fists, Jax drew back against the glass. He bunched his tentacles beneath him, ready to spring forward. He’d be out of this tank one way or another. Tonight. His eyes rose to the crack for an instant.

Camrin smiled and took a step toward the doors, waving for the guards to follow. The two humans hesitated, exchanging a glance with one another.

It would take a massive amount of force to break through the tank in a single blow, but there wouldn’t be time for anything more. The guards’ distraction wouldn’t count for much beyond it.

One of the guards slapped the other on the shoulder, and the men hurried to catch up to Camrin, picking up their long guns at the door. The three humans exited one at a time. The doors slid shut, returning the front of the warehouse to relative darkness.

Jax’s anxiety eased, but only slightly. He forced himself to count his heartbeats. The humans needed to be far enough away that they wouldn’t hear the glass breaking.

One hundred.

Two hundred.

He imagined the humans walking side-by-side, laughing and talking, as they moved away from the warehouse. How many heartbeats before they were far enough?

Four hundred.

How long would they be gone?

Macy would be waiting at the docks; Jax would get to her by any means necessary. He flattened himself against the backside of the tank, focused on the crack, and surged forward.

Something moved at the edge of his attention.

He faltered, flaring his tentacles to stop his momentum. His shoulder struck the glass — not with enough force to break it, but enough to hurt.

The doors had opened again. He watched as two dark figures slithered through the gap and slid the doors shut. Their familiar gaits filled him with a joy he hadn’t expected, and he quickly forgot the throbbing ache in his shoulder.

Arkon hurried to the tank as Jax broke the surface. Dracchus, sweeping his gaze from side-to-side suspiciously, took position nearby.

“Why do they need to keep fish in these tanks, when the sea is so close by?” Dracchus asked.

“This allows them a ready food supply they can store indefinitely,” Arkon replied. He ran his hands over the outside of the tank, studying its construction. “It means that, though they are reliant upon hunts to catch the food initially, they are never a single failed hunt away from starvation.”

“They grow plants to eat, too,” Jax said, speaking through the slits in the lid, “which matters just as little as what they use the tanks for. Open the top.”

“Good to see you, too, Jax.” Arkon stretched up and grabbed the edge of the metal platform, pulling himself up in a single, fluid motion.

“You know I am overjoyed to see you. Both of you.” Jax turned to glance at Arkon’s shadowed form through the narrow slits.

“I am glad you yet live, Wanderer.” Dracchus moved forward and stopped immediately in front of the tank, tilting his head back to examine the thing. His eyes shifted to the crack.

“This device should be simple enough to operate…” Arkon blew air through his siphons.

Jax clenched his jaw. “But?”

“It appears as though they’ve put some sort of locking mechanism on it. The manual release for the lid is immobile, and I believe it must be free to move, even for the electronic controls to function.”

“Can you open it, Arkon?”

“I just need a few moments to puzzle it out.”

Every moment was precious, but the chance of escaping this cage without raising any sort of alarm couldn’t be easily dismissed. Jax counted his heartbeats as he waited.

“How long will the humans be away?” Dracchus asked.

“I do not know,” Jax replied.

The large kraken grunted and turned away, looking between the other tanks.

Angling his head to glimpse Arkon, Jax frowned. “Arkon?”

“It is…somewhat more complicated than I anticipated.” Something rattled on the lid.

“We don’t have time for this, Arkon.”

“It will not be much longer.”

“Wanderer,” Dracchus growled, “we must go. They will put all three of us in these cages if they return.”

Jax spread his fingers and raked his claws impatiently along the glass. “I know.”

Dracchus ducked beneath the walkway and disappeared from Jax’s view.

Arkon rattled something on the lid again, and then banged on it; the sound vibrated through the glass and made ripples on the surface of the water.

“Arkon.”

“I’m doing what I can, Jax!”

Jax’s gaze flickered to the door; it was still closed, but he expected, the guards to walk in at any moment. Their eyes would go wide, and they’d raise their guns. Water and kraken blood would spill on the floor.

“Can you open it, or not?”

“Yes. I think so. I just need time.”

“We don’t have any time.” Dracchus emerged from under the platform. “Macy awaits at the docks. The humans will return at any moment.” As he advanced toward the tank, he hefted something in his hands — a long metal tool with a bulky end.

Dracchus met Jax’s gaze.

Jax nodded and shifted to the rear of the tank, pressing himself against the glass.

Gripping the tool in both hands, Dracchus drew himself up on his tentacles and twisted. Muscles rippled beneath his dark skin as he swung. The head of the tool crashed into the glass, and cracks shot in all directions, radiating from the point of impact.

“What was that?” Arkon demanded. “What is he doing?”

Dracchus drew back once more. When the tool hit the glass a second time, the damaged portion collapsed inward, only to be swept out by the rush of escaping water. Dracchus hit the glass repeatedly as water pooled around his tentacles, opening the hole wider.

“That was not necessary!” Arkon moved onto the walkway and lowered himself to the floor behind Dracchus.

Turning to direct a heavy, lingering glance at Arkon, Dracchus tossed the tool aside. It clanged on the stone floor.

Jax pulled himself out of the tank, latching onto the edge of the walkway to swing clear of the broken glass on the floor. He landed in the last of the draining water and stretched his arms and tentacles. His muscles ached sweetly with their restored range of motion.

The kraken stared at one another; the only sounds were those of the water running into an unseen drain and the waves breaking on the cliffs outside.

“We need to leave.” Jax shifted his eyes from Arkon to Dracchus and back again.

“I would have opened it soon enough,” Arkon said.

Dracchus grunted.

“Come. Now.” Jax didn’t look behind him as he moved toward the doors, darkening his skin on the way. The shadows would be their only cover until they reached the dock. He grasped one of the handles, paused to listen for anything out of the ordinary, and slid the door open.

Leaning out, he glanced inland. A pair of lights set over the warehouse doors illuminated the area directly ahead, but the path leading down into the town was dark. He could see the glow of more lights beyond, where the main cluster of buildings stood; they’d have to cross that area if they followed the stone path down to the dock.

Jax pushed the door wider and slipped out into the relatively cool air, adjusting his skin to match his surroundings as he moved. He felt exposed in the light, even with his camouflage, and longed to reach the water as quickly as possible now that he’d been freed from the confines of the tank.

He longed to reach Macy.

He crept to the cliff edge and peered over, running his gaze along the dock, past the bobbing ships, and to its end. Three dark figures stood there, features indistinct in the soft glow of the rising moon. Their shadows stretched out over the shimmering water.

The door slid closed. From the corner of his eye, Jax saw Arkon approach.

“Almost there, Jax.”

“Yes. Almost. Let us remain alert as we descend, just—”

A voice drew Jax’s attention toward the town. Dracchus paused nearby, and each of them stared down the darkened path.

“—be nothing. The crane rattling in the wind, maybe,” said a human voice, drawing nearer with each moment. “I don’t know. We need to get back up there before someone notices we’re gone.”

“You sure you heard something?” asked a second voice.

“Yeah,” replied the first.

Jax looked to Arkon and Dracchus; both wore expressions of indecision for a fleeting moment, and he imagined they felt the same paralyzing flash of fear he did.

The humans were not yet on the path, but would be soon. With their guns.

Below, the waves crashed into the cliffs, drowning out any further conversation from the approaching humans. The tide was not low enough, now, to reveal the narrow strand of beach that hugged the cliffs, but it was difficult for Jax to determine the water’s depth from his vantage.

If they didn’t break themselves on the ground below, they could get caught in the waves, which would smash them against the cliff face. Not typically life-threatening for kraken, but it would significantly slow their escape.

He had no desire to harm any humans…but he would not be caged again.

His companions had moved forward; they stood to either side of Jax, staring down into the sea. Jax met Dracchus’s gaze first. The amber eyes were steady, betraying no fear. Dracchus nodded.

Jax shifted his attention to Arkon. His violet eyes were lively beneath a brow set firm in determination. Arkon nodded.

Inhaling deeply, Jax glanced at the dark figures on the end of the dock once more.

Tonight.

He bunched his tentacles beneath himself and jumped.

Wind whistled past Jax’s earholes. His stomach leapt into his throat. Then the surface — so far away, a moment before — rushed up to meet him. He threw his hands forward to break through just before he hit with a startling impact that sent a jolt throughout his body.

The current caught him immediately, sweeping him back toward land. Drawing in water through his siphons, he propelled himself away, pushing with his tentacles and pulling with his arms. His muscles burned with strain. The waves lifted him up, as though the sea meant to toss him atop the cliff, back into one of the tanks.

Jax couldn’t tolerate any more obstacles between himself and Macy. Couldn’t accept any further delay. He drove forward with everything he had, and more. His body screamed in protest.

Finally, he broke away from the strongest current and directed himself toward the end of the dock. He glanced behind; Arkon and Dracchus signaled with glowing skin. They were unharmed.

He surfaced where the dock ended, rising into the silvery light of the rising moon, and lifted his gaze. His eyes found Macy, and he saw nothing more.

The black diving suit covered her from neck to toe. Her blonde hair — paler in the moonlight — fell around her shoulders, ends flowing in the breeze. Her expression was drawn, but the moment her eyes fell upon him, her lips tilted up into a wide smile.

“Jax!” She stepped forward, and her leg gave out beneath her. Her father’s big arms encircled her to keep her from falling. Her smile didn’t diminish as she extended her arms toward Jax.

“Careful, Macy girl,” her father rumbled. He was staring at Jax, mouth lost in his face-hair.

Moving closer to the dock, Jax grabbed the edge with his tentacles and pulled himself high enough to take Macy’s hips between his hands. Her father reluctantly released his hold. She wrapped her arms around Jax’s neck as he lowered her into the water.

“You’re here.” Her voice brimmed with emotion as she pecked kisses over his face. “I missed you so much.”

“As I missed you.” He pressed his lips to her cheek, thrilling in the feel of her body, reveling in her scent.

Her mouth found his, and they locked in a lingering kiss, neither wanting to pull away.

“It got away!” The shout was distant, nearly drowned out by the wind and sea, but everyone heard it; Jax and Macy broke their kiss and looked toward the clifftop warehouse.

“You need to go,” Aymee said. She knelt and held out Macy’s mask.

Macy yanked up her hood and took the mask, raising it into place.

“I’ll leave supplies in the place we discussed.” Aymee held out a sealed canister. “These meds should see you through for now, though.”

Macy’s father took the canister. “I have something for you before you go,” he said, opening the lid. He reached into his pocket and produced a small wooden box, which he slid into the container before resealing it. “Your heart’s always been with sea…you just forgot it for a while. Sarina’s was, too…keep this with you, where it belongs.”

“Thank you,” Macy said, voice trembling, as Jax accepted the canister. “I love you both.”

“Love you too, Macy girl,” her father replied gruffly. He shifted his gaze to Jax. “You take care of her, or I’ll break you. Don’t care how big you are, or how many arms you have.”

Jax nodded; this was the bond of family she’d talked about. The protectiveness, the caring, the love. “She is the most precious thing on land or sea, and will always be treated as such.”

Macy’s father nodded. “Go. Get away from here.”

Wrapping her legs around Jax’s waist, Macy said her final farewells.

Jax turned; Dracchus was studying the humans with a mild look of confusion on his face, as though he couldn’t quite understand what they were. Arkon stared, unabashed, at Aymee. “Come. Let us return to our people.”