by Frost Kay
“You know that your mama and I were best friends?” she managed to croak. “You look just like her.”
The ground sloped downward until it reached her chest before sloping upward back to her waist as they reached the little outcropping of rocks that created a mini cove of its own, the large, slimy rocks rising up above them, casting shadows over the water.
“Yeah. That’s what papa says.”
Mira nodded and pointed out a huge purple shell that looked unblemished. “Look at that one!”
Isa released her and launched herself into the water. She plucked the shell from the bottom and shot to the surface in one sleek motion.
“Maybe you’re part seal,” Mira teased, hauling Isa back to her side.
The little girl wrapped herself around Mira like an octopus and held out the shell for inspection. “I don’t know what this one is.”
Mira eyed the sea treasure and gestured to the pointy edges. “I believe this is a king’s crown shell. The pointy edges kind of look like your grandad’s crown, right?”
Isa’s nose wrinkled. “It’s not shiny.”
“Very true,” Mira conceded.
“Could we make it into a crown?” Isa asked, purple eyes shining with hope.
There were many things Mira could do: concoct poultices from a handful of herbs, sew a man back together, even ride a wild horse, but make a crown? Now that was out of her realm of expertise.
“Ummm…”
“Pleeeeeease,” Isa begged.
“Well, I don’t know how to make a crown, but we could make a necklace out of it.”
Mira waited as the little girl scrutinized the shell and eventually nodded.
“I like necklaces,” Isa chirped.
“You and me both, love…” She trailed off as her calf bumped into something.
Frowning, Mira spun, water rippling around her. Her muscles locked up as the water cleared and she got a good look at what bumped her.
A Leviathan pup.
Holy hell.
Her heart thundered. Where there was a pup, there was a mama. An aggressive mama.
Move, Mira. Move.
She scanned the water and slowly drifted back up against the rocks. There was too much risk moving into the open water. At least this way, the leviathan couldn’t sneak up on them.
“What’s wrong?” Isa asked.
“We just need to get out of the water, love. Can you climb the rock behind us?” Mira asked, never taking her eyes from the ocean. Female leviathan were huge. Surely such a creature couldn’t get into the cove? She jostled the little girl until Isa clung to her back. “Up you go!”
“It’s slimy,” Isa complained.
“I know, but you still need to climb.” Somehow her words came out calm and collected, despite the fear collecting in her belly.
Isa managed to turn around and use Mira’s back to climb. The little girl squeaked and flopped back down, sloshing the water.
“I can’t. It’s too slippery.”
“Try again, please,” Mira murmured. “I’ll help you.”
She held up her hand for Isa to use as a step. Her muscles flexed as the little girl used her to climb higher, only to stop.
“I can’t reach.”
Mira cursed softly, fighting back terror as a thin black fin cut through the water not thirty feet from them. It curved in their direction, slowing its approach.
Wicked hell. They were going to die.
She gritted her teeth and extended her arm as high as she could, popping onto her tiptoes. “How about now?”
Isa wobbled. “No. It’s too high.”
“Climb it now!” she barked, groping for a weapon with her right hand as the beast paused just behind her pup, her wicked teeth the length of Mira’s forearm. Her fingers wrapped around a rock covered in coral and she yanked it from its place, not caring that it bit into her palm.
A sniff sounded above her. “I c-c-can’t.” Isa’s feet settled on her shoulders.
The pup swam a little closer, followed by its mother. Mira pressed harder against the rock, using her left hand to keep Isa steady.
Do something or she’ll die.
She boxed up her fear and inhaled deeply. Isa would make it out alive.
“Come down, dearest, so I can toss you up.”
The little girl’s toes slipped against her shoulders, but Mira kept her from falling into the water as she turned around. A shriek exploded from Isa.
“It’s okay,” Mira soothed. “I’ll take care of you. Don’t be scared.”
“Why would I be scared? They’re my friends.”
“I’m sure that’s true, love, but right now we need to get you out of the water. Climb into my arms and I’ll toss you up.”
“Don’t be scared. My friends aren’t mean,” Isa said.
The Leviathans drifted closer, and Mira clenched her makeshift weapon, noting it had a wickedly long piece of coral on one side. Maybe she could stab it in the eye and get away.
Isa began to hum as she clambered down just as the pair of beasts breached the distance between them. Mira stifled a scream and raised her arm to strike when a little hand grabbed her forearm. Confused, she gaped at Isa who smiled and shook her head as the pup brushed along Mira’s legs like a cat. She hissed as the female glided forward and nuzzled her snout along Mira’s thigh.
Please don’t eat me. Please don’t eat me. Please don’t eat me.
Her legs shook when the large predator nuzzled her again before turning away, a haunting sound vibrating through the water. The pup gave Mira one last rub before following its mother and disappearing around the rock.
Fight or flight response jolted through Mira, and she found herself scrambling out of the tiny cove. She kept the retreating leviathans in her sights as she struggled through the water toward the shore. The water dropped below her knees, and she sprinted up onto the beach, her whole body trembling.
Mira tripped over her own feet and crashed to her knees, managing not to drop Isa. The healer released the rock and set the little girl in the sand, cupping her face. Large violet eyes blinked at her in surprise.
“What’s wrong?” Isa asked, her brows knitting in confusion. “Those are just my friends.”
“Are you okay?” Mira rasped, her stomach in knots.
“I lost my shell.”
A bark of laughter escaped Mira, followed by another one until she couldn’t catch her breath. Tears dripped down her cheeks as hysteria over came her. “You’re worried about the bloody shell?” she wheezed, wiping her cheek against her forearm.
“It was pretty, and I lost it,” Isa said forlornly. “Why did we run from my friends?”
That sobered Mira.
“Those are wild beasts. They are extremely dangerous.”
The little girl crossed her arms and shook her head. “They are not beasts. They are my friends. Every time I visit, I always sing to them, and they come and play. I even get to pet them and sometimes ride them.”
Pet the leviathans?
Her hand quivered as she released Isa and pushed a red curl from the girl’s round face, grimacing when she smeared blood on Isa’s cheek. Her palm was radiating heat from grabbing the coral-covered rock. She’d need to take care of that quickly before it got infected. But first things first.
“I need you to be honest with me,” she said, holding Isa’s gaze. “How many times have you seen the leviathan?”
Isa’s face scrunched up as she began to count her fingers. She finally dropped her hands and shrugged. “Don’t know. They visit every time I swim.”
A chill ran down Mira’s spine despite the warm evening. “And your nurse or papa never say anything about your friends?”
The little girl wrinkled her nose. “When I sing, nurse knows where I am. She says she only worries when I get quiet. I always sing to the big fishes. They like it. They sing back.” Her whole face brightened up and she beamed at Mira. “Did you know I can hold my breath for a looooong time? I can hold my breat
h for almost as long as my friends.”
“Is that so?” Mira murmured. She stared blankly at Isa as her mind whirled with questions. Was it Isa’s singing that calmed the leviathans or something more?
“But sometimes when I come up to breathe it hurts.” Isa patted her arm. “Mira?”
She blinked and focused back on the little girl. “Yeah?”
“Does it hurt when you come up for air, too?”
Her mouth opened and closed as she stared down at Isa, particularly her purple eyes. A rare color for a descendant of Aermia. Then there were the leviathan. Mira only knew of two people who were able to sing to the beasts of the waters.
It was an impossible hunch, but Mira found herself pulling Isa’s hair from her neck. She stiffened as her gaze latched onto three faint lines running vertically along the side of the little girl’s neck.
Bloody hell.
“You’re Sirenidae.”
Chapter 11
Gav
“Gavriel?”
He blinked at Sam who sat next to him on the balcony in a wicker chair. His cousin cocked his head, his blue eyes narrowing.
“What?” Gav asked, frowning at Sam.
“I don’t think you heard a word I just said.”
A lie hovered on the tip of his tongue, but he sighed and decided to go with the truth. Samuel could always tell when Gav was lying. Hell, Sam could tell when everyone was lying.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t. My mind was somewhere else.”
Sam shrugged. “Don’t worry about it. What’s on your mind?”
Gavriel hesitated, his fingers clenching around the glass he held in his left hand. Mira and his daughter’s conversation from earlier that day played over and over in his mind. He couldn’t let it go. “Isa mentioned wanting a mother today.”
His cousin whistled and leaned forward in his chair, his gold curls hanging in his face. “How did you react?”
He winced, thinking about his sharp reply. “Not well. Mira was so angry at me, she stole Isa away for an afternoon of swimming.”
“She took Isa away from you?” Sam shook his head. “It takes a lot to make the healer angry. I try to ruffle Mira all the time, but it never works.”
That rankled. Mira was as ornery as an old donkey with him. “What the bloody hell are you talking about? Every word out of my mouth seems to offend her.”
Sam snickered, a nasty gleam entering his gaze. “Let’s be honest, cousin, you’ve been a right ass since your injury, and our healer has taken the brunt of your foul moods. A person can only take so much before they start taking it personally.”
“She always wants to fight with me,” Gav said, glaring at a crease in his leather trousers. Sometimes he wanted to throttle her, but recently all he wanted was to kiss her until she couldn’t fling barbed retorts his way. “I swear I could state that the sky was blue, and she’d tell me I am wrong.”
“At that point, you just say ‘yes dear’ and then you both win.”
Gavriel shot a glare at his cousin. “Is that what you do with Jasmine?”
A smug smile slipped across Sam’s face. “My wife is a mercurial creature who is much too smart for such tricks. I must deploy other tactics.”
“Such as?”
“The art of distraction. Children are good for that, you know. Speaking of which…” Sam slapped his knee and stood with a groan. “My wee ones are making their way down for dinner as we speak. I should be going.” He approached Gav and squeezed his shoulder. “Come have dinner with us.”
He shook his head. “I’ll wait here for Isa and Mira.” Gav snapped his mouth shut when he realized he’d included the healer in his plans. He wanted—no, needed—to speak with her again.
“Better be careful, cousin, or Mira just might stay. How many women have you had to let down gently over the years?”
Gav cursed and swatted a hand at Samuel, sloshing a little whiskey onto the stone balcony as his cousin sauntered away. “Be gone with you, devil!”
“Name calling. How childish,” Sam remarked. “You’ve hurt my delicate sensibilities.”
“You’re not delicate.”
“Damn straight,” his cousin called just before the door clicked shut.
He grinned despite himself and glanced over his shoulder to make sure Sam had actually left. More times than he could count, Samuel had snuck up on him. Gavriel faced forward and watched the sun sink low, the sky a watercolor collage of pinks, oranges, and pale purples.
It had been a long day.
Gav swirled the whiskey around in his cup and stared at it for a beat. Normally, he wasn’t much of a drinker, but today? Today, he’d make an exception.
He tossed back the remaining contents and winced as the fiery brew burned the back of his throat. This morning had been more than he bargained for. Isa hadn’t mention wanting a mother before, but what did he know? She’d spent more time with her nurse than him over the last year.
Shame washed over him, and he closed his eyes. While her words cut deep, it had made him think hard about his priorities. Gavriel had to do better. No child deserved to grow up without a mother. True, he could try to fulfill both roles, but between his duties to the crown, his position as commander of the army, and the dukedom, things were falling between the cracks. Hell, he couldn’t remember the last time he’d visited his keep and his local people. His father would have been ashamed of how badly Gav was handling his lordship. When had it been? Two or three years? But most importantly, Isa was suffering, and that was inexcusable. No matter which way he turned, he failed someone. There never seemed to be a balance.
He sighed. To be honest, he’d been struggling with being both mother and father and so he passed off a lot to Isa’s nurse. That clearly wasn’t enough. Isa’s nurse was old, and she missed her husband, children, and grandchildren. It hadn’t been fair of Gav to keep her so long at the palace.
It was time for a new nurse.
A small smile tugged at his lips. Even if he tried to send the nurse away, she wouldn’t have gone until she met and interrogated her replacement. She’d been there for Isa’s birth. She considered Isa her kin and understood his daughter’s needs. She was a creature of routine, much like Tehl, and needed structure. Who could fill the nurse’s shoes?
He opened his eyes, set his cup down, and scratched his head. Only one person came to mind that he would trust his daughter with who wasn’t his immediate family or married.
Mira.
Gavriel leaned forward and placed his elbows on his knees, staring out at the ocean. She would make the perfect nurse if she wasn’t a healer. Mira loved his daughter. He could see it every time she was with Isa. She treated her with love and kindness, and yet she had a spine of steel. Isa got away with nothing when it came to Mira.
She’d make a wonderful mother.
The thought startled him.
The memory of Mira holding Isa, patiently listening to her, and then teaching her how to help tend to his leg. His mind wandered to the feverish kiss they’d shared after his injury. His body flushed hot, and Gav grunted out a curse and clenched his jaw. It was time to face the truth.
He needed a wife.
For too long, he’d put off the idea of courting any women. Even the notion of it had felt daunting. It was easier just to be friends. Plus, he came with baggage. Emma was his first love and that was hard to be compared to, and then there was Isa. She wasn’t an easy child and any bride of his would be an instant mother. Such a decision weighed heavily on him. What if he chose someone that didn’t care enough for his daughter? It wasn’t a risk he could take until now.
Isa had chosen for him. Mira.
A dry chuckle escaped Gavriel. Maybe it was the whiskey talking, but the more he thought about the healer, the more it made perfect sense.
Mira had no political aspirations, so she cared nothing for his title. If anything, she despised it a little bit. She was the only child of Jacob and had her own occupation, which meant she was wealthy in her own
right, so his gold meant nothing to her. In addition to all that, she wasn’t under any illusions that he was the perfect man. Mira had seen beneath the mask and keenly understood the ugly parts of his personality, yet she’d never run away.
“What are you saying?” he muttered to himself.
He wanted Mira as his wife.
Gav rested his head in his hands and blankly stared at the stone floor. Was he really considering this?
Yes. Yes, he was.
Mira was an excellent role model, and she adored Isa. Besides, the healer wasn’t an unknown entity that he’d have to let into his life. Gavriel had known her since they were children. She was a good person, albeit blunt and vicious when backed into a corner, but who wasn’t? They knew each other’s flaws and still cared for each other. That was something most married people didn’t have their entire marriage. Up until recently, they’d always gotten along well.
Until you started acting like an ass.
He’d have to fix that and do better. Be better.
Guilt tried to worm its way into his chest once again at the idea of marrying. Gav shoved it down and drew in a ragged breath. Emma would have hated the thought of him being lonely and raising Isa alone. She would have wanted their daughter to have another mother in her life, and who better than Emma’s best friend Mira? The healer would fit seamlessly into their lives.
An idea hit him.
He struggled with letting going of Emma and loving someone else, but marriage didn’t mean he had to fall in love again; it could just be companionship. Most marriages were and they happily lived out their lives. Gav didn’t harbor any illusions that Mira loved him, but hadn’t she just expressed the desire to have a family of her own? He could give her that. She’d gain a daughter to love, and a husband who let her do as she pleased. Gav gained a companion who would help him raise his daughter to become a strong, independent woman.
The solution was right in front of him. All he had to do was reach out and take it. But was he strong enough?