I am trying to concentrate on anything other than Pierce to keep him from invading my thoughts. I notice a soprano singing a cappella in a language I don't understand. I hear the clinking of silverware and glasses, laughter, and a foghorn off in the distance. Occasionally there are bursts of fairy magic and flashes of lightning. The fairy lights on the yacht change from red to violet, across the visual spectrum, so slowly, it's barely noticeable.

"Too late, Waverly," Pierce says. "I already know that you think I'm sexy."

"I was thinking you are snoopy, not sexy. Your blood-enhanced mind-reading must be wearing off."

"No, it lasts a solid week." He chuckles. "And your mind is one of the most interesting places I've ever seen. A shining garden of contradiction."

Ugh, vampire poetry! "Voyeur!"

"I don't think you're in a position to criticize me when I'm your only hope of getting onto this boat, Waverly. Say something nice, and I might help you."

I want to throw him back to the sharks.

"I heard that."

"Stop looking in my brain, you ... you ..."

"Careful."

"You kind, helpful, intelligent vampire."

"And sexy," he says. "Don't forget. Say it. Out loud."

I am gritting my teeth so hard, I may have to survive on a liquid diet from now on. "Sexy. Okay, satisfied?"

"Not yet," he says, and I don't think he's referring to our conversation either. Why does this make me feel so happy? Over the past week, I have had the best time joking around with Pierce. Wait! Must stop thinking positive thoughts about him when he is listening in. His ego is already large enough.

He chuckles again.

"For the last time, stop listening to my thoughts. It's rude!"

"I can't help it, Waverly. You are endlessly entertaining."

"How did you even know I was here?"

He laughs. "Smelled you."

"What, I smell bad?"

"Bad? No, Waverly. You smell delicious."

Uh, right, the blood. How could I forget? "Don't get any ideas," I say.

"Too late for that. Are you badly hurt?"

"Just some scrapes. I'll be fine," I say. "I mean, as long as you don't drain my circulatory system."

"I'm wounded, Waverly," he says. He looks over his shoulder toward the front of the boat. "Wait, quiet. Someone is coming."

I hear the clicking of platform heels on the deck. Eels meals! It's Shelly. I can smell the collection of perfume she tried on in our room. I lower myself until only my head is above the water.

"Who were you talking to?" Shelly says.

"The night," says Pierce, sounding all poet-like.

"I sometimes talk to the universe," says Shelly. "It's totally profound. Like, sometimes I ask for stuff, then I get it. You have to totally want whatever it is really bad, or you won't get it, though."

"I'm glad you have such a firm grasp of the concept."

"Thanks," she says, sounding breathy and frankly desperate. I can see her stroking Pierce's hand, which is resting on the railing. "I do grasp it." She stops stroking and rests her hand on top of his. "I'm sorry Waverly didn't come."

She doesn't sound at all sorry. I imagine myself pulling her hair out strand by strand.

Pierce pulls his hand free. Yay! "Oh, I have a feeling she might show up, " he says.

"I wouldn't be so sure," Shelly says, sidling closer. She's pressing herself against his chest, moving her hair to the side—totally offering him her neck! Gross! My hair is sparking. It does this whenever I am really, really emotional. Let me tell you: nothing good ever comes from my hair turning on me. My mom says it has something to do with my latent fairy genetics.

Luckily, Shelly is so busy with Pierce, she doesn't notice the reflection of sparks in the water. Pierce peels Shelly's hands off of him and backs away. Gotta say, this vampire does seem to have appetite control.

"I think Cupid is looking for you and wants to dance with you. You should go," Pierce says. "You should never jilt a god."

"But I want to talk to you," Shelly says. I can hear her pouting.

"You remember the last girl who angered Cupid?"

"No."

"Exactly."

"What was her name?" Shelly says, totally not getting Pierce's subtlety.

"Give me a minute on my own," Pierce says; he sounds pretty exasperated.

"Okay, but I'll be back," she says in a husky voice. Click, click, click, and she's gone. My hair calms down.

"It's safe now," Pierce says. "I'm going to fly down and lift you aboard."

"Don't think so."

"Are you saying you swam halfway across the bay to masquerade as a mermaid figurehead? Because if you are, you are at the wrong end of the boat. Figureheads are at the bow."

"I'm not stupid," I say. "It's just that I am wardrobe-challenged right now."

"You mean naked."

"Yeah."

"I don't see the problem."

I am glaring at him in my mind and summoning up images of him being eaten by sharks and carried off to sea in a jellyfish-infested riptide.

"I see," he says. And suddenly, he's gone. Great! Maybe I took that vampire eradication fantasy a little too far. Now what am I going to do?

A few moments later, a portable ladder drops over the side of the boat and splashes into the water, scaring the kelp out of me. Vampires are ridiculously quiet. Must remember this. "Uh, Pierce?"

"Yes, Waverly?" I practically melt every time he says my name. Holy crab. Why did I have to think that? But thankfully, he says nothing.

"Well, um, there's still the problem of my, um, lack of clothing."

"Got you covered," he says.

"Really? Now you're making puns?"

He dangles the end of a white beach towel over the railing.

When I finally make it up the ladder (which requires a lot of agility and upper body strength as I transition from tail to leg form), Pierce is holding the fluffy towel behind his back, shielding me from view. I grab the towel and wrap myself inside. It's even warm!

As soon as I finish tucking in the end of the towel so it stays in place, he turns and hugs me. "I was so worried about you. And you are hurt." I am melting into him. I'm not even concerned that his mouth is inches from my neck.

"I'm fine," I say. "But you never came to meet me at the beach."

He pulls away, his dark blue eyes boring into mine. "You sent me a note saying that you didn't want me to," he says.

"I did not. I was waiting for you. That's why I'm late."

"Shelly!" we both snarl at the same time.

"Wait until I find her." Pierce's fangs slide down.

"Put your fangs away," I say. There is no way I'm letting him get close enough to Shelly to bite her. "I'll take care of her. She is my bunkmate and a menace to mermaidhood!"

"But, of course, my lady." Pierce bows and his fangs retract. "She is your quarry." He really does seem like a gallant knight sometimes.

"Thanks," I say.

"Waverly ..." he whispers my name and enfolds me in his arms.

I can't believe how much I want him to kiss me, and I'm almost positive he won't bite me. Again.

I stand on my tiptoes and tilt my face toward his. He caresses my chin in his hands, stroking my cheeks with his thumbs. The world swirls around us. The stars blend and form new suns. The bay empties of water the way it would before a tsunami. Our lips are separated by a breath. We are so close. I close my eyes.

Abruptly, Pierce lets go of my face. My eyes fly open. What? He doesn't want me? I could die right now; I am so mortified.

One second he's next to me, the next he's five feet away, pacing in circles, and running his hand through his already tousled brown hair. "Waverly ..."

"Don't ..." I can't keep the hurt out of my voice. I do not want to know why he is rejecting me. I tighten the towel around my body.

Pierce stops walking. "Look at me," he says.

"No, I gotta go. Thanks for your, uh, help."

"Waverly, it's not that I don't want ... "

"Stop."

I never understood the meaning of mortification before this moment. I am practically a cliché, spending the entire week dreaming that Pierce liked me as much as I like him, and it turns out the whole thing was in my mind.

He's biting his lip, which really shows off his dimples. I can tell he wants to tell me something, but for some reason, he can't. Well. I. Hate. Secrets! I have no idea what my next move is, but I have to get away from Pierce. I can either A. Dive back in the ocean and keep swimming till I get to Pacifica, or B. Take the slightly less dramatic course and find a stateroom, try to dig up some clothes, let Shelly know she's welcome to Pierce, and then wallow in my humiliation.

I turn away, but before my mind can even register his movement, Pierce is pulling me toward his body, crushing me to him. He pins me with his gaze, and I can see the reflection of my hair (sparking again!) in his irises. I'm holding my breath. I feel so trapped. I need to get away from him and his rejection, but I also want him to want me so I can be the one to reject him. It looks as if his eyes are on fire. Then he closes them and presses his cool lips to mine.

Although my brain was wishing just a second ago that he'd release his freaky vampire hold on me so I could jump into the water, my body has other ideas. My heart is pounding; the blood in my veins is burning. Before I know it, I'm kissing him back. We are kissing each other, and I am lost at sea.