"I wonder what people with normal friends are doing tonight," Elijah Carter said, gracing me with a sidelong glance.

We were sitting on the edge of the cliff, just him, Nettie Peterson, Frankie and me. The ladies from the diner had already left, wanting to avoid the hassle. Mary Markov had promised to be there with her staff in half an hour. She was preparing for something big. We all were, in a way. The area around the cave had fallen silent, and it was that silence that had been unnerving us for the last couple minutes. Most of us, at any rate. Eli was twitchy—the tension in the muscles of his arms and shoulders gave him away. They coiled and uncoiled, tensed and relaxed in barely noticeable but hectic intervals. His long legs were dangling over the rim of the precipice, crossed at the ankles. He was staring down moodily, but with a hint of his usual weary, sarcastic smile. I took that as a good sign.

My savior human had tried and failed to stay seated. She was pacing to and fro behind us, wringing her hands and occasionally muttering to herself. "I wish you didn't sit so close to the edge," she told me for the third time that night.

"I'm close to the edge, too," Elijah remarked, giving her an odd look.

"Well, are you gonna listen to me and scoot back?"

"No."

"There you go, then. Big idiot." She waved him off. "And you," she addressed Frankie, "I don't know you so I'd be a phony if I made a fuss, but you're just as bad. No. Worse. You're worse."

"I don't know what you mean," Fran replied sweetly, shifting a little so his feet stuck out over the cliff. His head was in the mold between my crossed legs, and one of his hands was gripping my knee, passively preventing me from moving. I shot him a quick glance. Don't start.

"You're so… nonchalant," Nettie grunted. "You're enjoying this, aren't you? This is like a show to you."

"A bit," he admitted, not sounding very bothered by the fact.

"How?" my savior human asked, her tone flat and stony.

Frankie lifted his head just enough to meet her gaze. "I won't start another fight. I like this thingy here—" he pointed at me, "so Imma be a good boy and show some restraint. But, and I wanna say this as politely as I can, you are way too scared."

"Way too scared? That's my woman in there!"

"Not just now. Always. I've served you espresso for over a year, I've heard you moan about all sorts of things. You're never not worried about something."

"Wait, you listen in on your customers?" Nettie sounded affronted.

"You're with the most intriguing creature I know. That makes you interesting by proxy. But don't worry, normally I tune it out." He shrugged.

"Oh. My. I am so flattered," my best friend said dryly.

"Yeah, yeah, I know I'm a creep. But I don't have the need to obsessively mother everyone around me. What are you afraid of, exactly? You think if you leave your friends out of your sight for longer than two seconds, they'll get rolled over by a bus or something?"

"Frank," I growled. He hadn't posed the question in a malicious way, but he'd got closer to home than he'd likely bargained for. Nettie however didn't erupt like I'd expected. She dropped the hand that had previously dug into her hip and brought it up to pinch the bridge of her nose instead.

"Maybe," she said at length, slowly walking over to sit with us. She hesitantly scooted closer to the edge and stretched her legs so they were dangling down the overhang. With an unreadable expression in her deep, soulful eyes, she stared at the night sky. Silhouetted against the round moon, her gentle profile looked indescribably beautiful. For a long while, all four of us remained silent.

"Is there something wrong with wanting to take care of people?" my savior human spoke up again. "To protect them?"

"If it eats you up inside, then yes," I replied without thinking. "If you're neglecting yourself."

"If you treat them like kids and expect them not to question you," Elijah Carter added.

"Do I…?" Nettie's voice was soft and low. Not puzzled or undecided. She knew the answer.

I freed one of my hands from under Frankie and reached out to her. She placed hers in mine almost instinctively. "I love you," I said. "I would be on my own if it weren't for you. I was before. Where I'm from, everyone was distant. You're everything my home was not, in a good way. I miss home, but you make it so it doesn't hurt as much. You make me glad I'm here."

She pulled our joint hands up, pressing my knuckles to her cheek. Hot tears landed on my skin. "It's been so hard," she breathed. "It's scary, I-I'm scared—I try not to be, but I am, and I always was. Even before you came. This is just who I am. I need this. If I don't make sure they're safe, who will? Anything could happen, you know." She paused. "Lord, now I'm rambling."

For a beat, we stayed silent. The boys didn't dare to say a single word. Frankie was stock-still in my lap. "They'd be proud of you," I finally told her. "I'm not sure I'm getting the breeder-larvae-dynamics of this world right, so pardon me if I don't, but I do think your parents would be immensely proud. If pride is the sentiment I'm looking for."

“I think so,” Nettie whispered as she placed my hand back in my lap. “Thank you, Evangeline.”

“You don’t have to thank me, ever.”

She sniffed, and Frankie wordlessly passed her a little pack of handkerchiefs. She dried her cheeks, then turned and asked me to check if her makeup was still on right. I said yes, to which she said she was glad she’d picked a mascara that didn’t run, to which Elijah commented on the degree of femininity of the conversation, to which we told him to shut up. Just then, we heard a sigh coming from behind us. “Look at that, we got the entire Scooby gang.” We turned to see that Mary Markov had come up behind us. In the distance, several cars were pulling up to the cliffside, agents hopping out and trickling down to the shore to secure the site of the cave-in.

Mary Markov smiled thinly. “I shall never know peace. Or sleep, apparently. But I did promise I’d do what I can so we broadcasted a storm warning to make everyone stay inside. You should be glad the locals are used to this.”

“We’re very grateful for your assistance,” my savior human said gamely, rising to offer a handshake. The newsreader’s face softened as she accepted, her grin becoming a bit more genuine.

“We’re about to witness a battle between deities, so this should be mildly interesting at least,” she conceded, straightening her pencil skirt and gracefully lowering herself to the ground beside us. “Some rules. No matter what we’re about to see, we’ll keep to the sidelines. There’s no use in getting involved. For us, the forces at work here are unstoppable. So do not do anything stupid…er.”

We all told her we understood. And thus, we waited. Nettie and Mary began chatting and Frankie switched positions with me so I could lie back and nap a little. After half an hour of sitting on the overhang, Elijah said something about how burgers would be “pretty great right now” so he and I got up to go grab some from an out of town joint for the lot of us. Except the waiter, who apparently doesn’t actually eat. I shelved that as one of the many things I wanted to ask him about at a more suitable point in time.

The streets were completely empty, so Elijah saw no problem in speeding. He seemed to rather enjoy racing his Chevy through the maze that was the town at night time, and I had to admit it was fun. We sped back, as well, hurrying to return to the others. The hour that followed was more pleasurable, the food helped take off some of our edge. My savior human even refrained from commenting on the nutritiousness of our late dinner. For a while, it was like there was nothing brewing on the horizon; like we were just out there stargazing. And then, after two whole hours, a roar as could only be produced by tons and tons of shifting water tore through the silence.

The five of us froze up in an instant. Elijah Carter’s broad shoulders tensed as he leaned forward a little more. Nettie Peterson grabbed my lower arm with both hands as Mary Markov sucked in a sharp breath. Fran, whose spread legs I was sitting between, popped the bubble of his gum dangerously close to my ear. Mary hastily made a call to ensure every last one of her staff members had withdrawn from the beach and retreated to some point of elevation.

Shadowed against the bright full moon hanging low in the sky, far, far off in the distance, a wave began to build. A wall of water rose into the night sky, higher and higher as though it was aiming to meet with the stars themselves. Its sheer size was mind-boggling. Mary Markov jumped to her feet. “We need to get away from here! This thing is bound to roll back to sho…”

“Shore”, she’d probably been meaning to say, but her voice broke and trailed off when we saw the wave collapse, the water falling back down and revealing the form that had risen behind it. The gigantic woman that emerged from the depths was visible even in the nightly darkness. Out in the open, free from the confinement of the cave, I registered her actual, true size. She was even larger than I’d thought. As she threw back her head and stretched her arms, it looked like she could have knocked the moon out of the sky. By some miracle, none of the masses of water she’d shifted arrived at our beach, the tide licking at the sandy plain with only a little more rage than usual.

“Holy shit,” Eli breathed, his eyes transfixed on the scene unfolding before us.

Fran snaked an arm around my waist from behind. “Easy,” he murmured into my ear, and it was only then that I realized that my body had practically turned to stone; every single one of my muscles having coiled up in horrified expectancy. However, when the ocean surface broke once again to make way for another creature to stand upright, even the waiter lost some of his composure. The newcomer straightened up to come face to face with the giant woman. He was just as enormous as her, but much, much less humanoid in shape. His back was arched, countless long, thin spikes jutting out from his bent, gnarled spine. Despite the distance between him and us, we could tell we were looking at something ancient. I don’t know how to properly describe it—somehow, an air of eternity seemed to radiate off of him. His long arms hung from sharp, bony shoulders, limp like yoke and unnaturally thin.

“Oh my God.” Nettie Peterson’s voice came from right beside me, breathless and empty like the shock had knocked any other emotion out of her.

“That is…” Mary began, only to falter and fumble for words. “I’ve never seen…”

Kit’s mother reached out to him with both hands, her movements not slowed one bit by the masses of water around her as she lunged at the ancient one. She threw him over, and the two of them disappeared in an explosion of splashes and flying droplets. The impact sent massive waves whipping up and rolling towards the shore, but incredibly, they broke just before they could come crashing down upon us.

“That’s Kit!” Nettie suddenly cried out, her fingers clamping down tighter on my arm. “She’s keeping the flood away!” Fear, pride and unabashed joy created a strange blend of inflections in her tone. “She’s okay,” she added in a husky whisper, gazing at the furiously tossing sea with milky eyes. I wordlessly reached over to rub her back. She was sitting ramrod straight, her entire body frozen and rock solid.

The waves cracked down like whips as the two giants reemerged. Kit’s father had grabbed her mother by the neck, forcing her to back off. The two of them plowed a valley through the water as they moved, their huge bodies pushing away the masses on either side. My heart was pounding wildly, ice-cold dread knotting my stomach. No, no, no… She could not be losing. She simply couldn't.

"What do you think is gonna happen if he beats her?" Elijah Carter thought aloud. His voice was strained as taut wire.

It was then that I first considered the possibility of Kit's father taking revenge on the town. Fuck. I tried to chase the image of my first home being swallowed from my mind. "She needs to win this," I breathed. "There's no other way, she literally has to."

As if she'd heard me, Kit’s mother suddenly grabbed her former mate’s arms and tore them off her throat, only to then swing at him, causing him to stagger back. My chest felt close to bursting with relief when I saw him double over. The giantess didn’t waste any time, lunging at him once more. She dug her hands into the skin of his midriff, pulling it apart in a crude tearing motion. A deafening howl of pain rode the waves to the shore this time, mingling with the rushing of water. One of my friends gagged audibly, but I was unable to take my eyes off the struggling pair.

The old giant’s stomach burst, chunks of goo and thick fluids spewing out into all directions. He fell, closely followed by Kit’s mother. She didn’t let go of him, never once relinquishing her grip. Mercilessly tugging on his back spikes, his arms and the flaps of flayed flesh, she dragged him under. Both of them were swallowed by the sea, the waves coming up to envelop them with a loud clap.

All was silent for several seconds.

Neither my friends nor I said a single word. I’m almost certain none of us did so much as breathe. Then, from before us, a murmur seemed to arise from the ocean, whispers like hissing undercurrents or babbling streams reaching our ears. And from the quieting tide that was calmly playing at the stretch of dry land below us emerged another figure. A human-appropriate size, leanly muscled, distinctly familiar.

Nettie Peterson let out a yelp as she sprang to her feet.

The woman drew closer, effortlessly stepping over the rocks and rubble in her path and striding up the hill before she finally came to stand before us. Her long blue hair was soaked, the smell of salt clinging to her even as the barnacles, seashells and starfish fell off her skin.

“Ayo, Tom’s Diner,” she said, her voice heavy with an unfamiliar gravity. Frankie Preston perked up. “You got a knife on you, you little creep?”

“You know I do,” he replied gamely, reaching into his pocket to pull out a switchblade and tossing it to her.

She snatched it out of the air, then bunched up her waterfall of hair, wrapping it around her wrist as close to her head as she could before severing it in quick, successive cuts. As it fell, it liquefied and hit the ground with a splash. Rearing her head, a familiar smile unfurled on her face—part triumphant, part cocky and part moronic.

Mostly moronic.