XV. Rescue and Recuperation
It took Rikki more than a week to stop questioning everything Zane did.
The apartment he bought her was a trap—it had to be. It was too expensive, and comfortable, and equipped with everything she could wish for to be anything else. She wondered why he needed to keep the extra key. In case of emergencies, he said. She countered that it must be to check on his investment and make sure it hadn't disappeared. To this, he sighed, shaking his head wearily. Rikki felt a twinge of guilt for not letting up, but it was hard enough to believe in people's good intentions at the best of times. This was definitely not the best of times.
He advised her not to go out, as his dad was still searching for his missing mermaid, and not going out suited her fine. There was no way she'd risk getting captured again; by Mr. Bennett, or Dr. Denman.
The only adjustment she made to the apartment was to shut out the view of the ocean. The sight of it turned her stomach, and she made frequent use of the mp3 player Zane lent her to drown out the sound of the waves.
She made Zane taste everything he brought her before trying it. Every vitamin, every drink; she even had him come over and take a bite from each slice of the pizza she ordered. Zane tried to keep his enjoyment of her paranoia a secret, but it was hard to complain when Rikki was constantly asking him to eat and drink with her. He was less amused when she told him to wash his hair in the sink, so she could be sure the shampoo wasn't drugged.
It was easier to see how unhealthy her fear was when his neck still smarted from the awkward angle, and his hair smelled of flowers, and coconut.
"Are you going to be okay? I know you're not right now, and that's totally fine, but do you think after some time, you might...?"
"Might what?"
"Well, shouldn't the police know?"
"No." Her answer was definitive. "Do not drag them into this. Promise me, Zane. Promise me you won't."
"Why?"
"Do you know what that would mean? Testifying. Talking to strangers, and shrinks, and scientists, and probably news reporters, once word got out that there are real life mermaids. The nightmare would never end. We'd be reliving it every single day. And what do you think other crazy scientists are going to do when they find out Mako Island has magical properties? Probably section off the whole thing, and turn it into one big laboratory. It sucks that we can't get back-up in this, but it's not even worth it to me."
"So what do we do? About... the others?"
"I have been thinking about that. I'm pretty sure we could rescue them ourselves."
"Are you serious?"
"Yeah. If I just concentrate on getting my powers back to their full potential, I could do it myself in a week or two." She cast him a sideways smile. "But I'll let you come along for the show."
"So kind," he chuckled. "Hey, just so you know, I'm not encouraging you to do this. If you want me to, I'll take care of it. Without police involvement. I'll find some trustworthy mates—if I have any left, that is, and figure out a way to save Lewis, and Emma, and everyone else who's stuck in there. You don't have to be a part of it if you want to stay here."
"Thanks, but I'd be dying of anxiety. I've got a score to settle, and I can't miss my chance." After a pause, she said, "You sure are willing to go a long way for guilt."
"Yeah, well, it's not all for guilt. You know we had something before all this."
"Like what? A mutual desire to stab the other in the eye?"
"You can call it that if you like, but I think you know I was smitten with you."
"Was! I see how it is. You saw my tail and now you're disgusted."
He laughed at her levity before growing serious again. "Rikki... seriously. Tell me whatever you need, and I'll get it done. It's not the guilt. You probably won't believe me when I say this, but I wanted to make you my girl since the moment you sassed Miriam. Dead serious."
"I want to believe you. As much as you didn't want to believe your dad is a lying bastard, I want to believe you're the opposite. It's just... It's gonna take some time."
"I get that. But more than anything I want to do what you said. I want to give us a chance."
Rikki did her best.
The calls to Zane became less frequent—which meant once or twice a day to request a certain food item, or ask where something was located rather than five or six times a day to freak out about every shadow—and more natural.
It was nice that the paranoia had calmed down some, but Zane noticed other odd things in the apartment, instead. For example, Rikki made a lot of tea. At least, that was the most reasonable explanation for the inordinate amount of mugs and water she requested. The kettle would be whistling when he knocked, but it always stopped before she answered the door.
The most disconcerting thing was when the curtains she'd been so insistent on having suddenly disappeared. He thought she must have got over her hatred of the ocean view and stowed them somewhere out of sight. That is, until she asked for a new set.
"What happened to the old ones?"
"They burned up."
"Why would you burn the curtains?"
"It's not my fault! I didn't expect them to burst into flames. I was... testing my limits, and they didn't hold up so well."
Zane scanned the apartment for signs of other "accidents," the vision of a psychotic Rikki taking matches to the objects around her playing in his head. Though where she could have found matches... "Wait. This is... like that thing you did to dry my pants! You're practicing your magic!" His eyes narrowed, "Is it working?"
Rikki gave him a look that made him take a step back. "The curtains exploded into flames. I think it's safe to say it's working. It's a matter of controlling the power that's giving me trouble."
"Well, that explains all the water. Does it heat so fast it evaporates?"
She looked at him like he was crazy again, "No. I just like tea."
It was the last time he questioned her drinking habits, or the fate of the curtains.
One month to the day since Rikki had been whisked away to hide in the beachside apartment, she was ready to save her friends.