“Let me go to him.” Gaire dropped to her knees in front of Mariella. “Please, Master Gardener. Let me save him. Then I will return for my punishment.”
Mariella drew herself to her full height. “I cannot be responsible for what comes next, Gaire. I cannot change it.”
Gaire’s chin quivered. “I would never ask you to.”
“It will not be an easy wave to ride.”
“I understand.”
“Very well.” Mariella took Gaire’s hands and helped the younger mermaid to her feet. “I disown you as my student. When we next meet, we will be as strangers. You will be required to address me with all formality.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“I cannot stop what will come next, but I will try to blunt the blow, fishling. Go to your love, and I pray he’s worth it.”
Gaire covered her mouth. “Yes, yes, thank you madam gardener.” She threw her arms around the older mermaid. The tears flowed freely.
Mariella returned the embrace. “It’s been an honor training you, Gaire.”
They held one another for long moments. Then Mariella pushed Gaire away from her. “When you return, you will answer for your wrongs.”
Gaire curtsied and then dashed away, determined to reach Calder before Venora had a chance to end him. She only hoped she would arrive in time.
Chapter 8
Calder cringed. The thing on Mike’s arm. Mike couldn’t possibly realize Venora was… whatever she was. Helplessness overshadowed Calder’s planning. The afternoon wore on, full of painting, thinking, and obsessing over the words in the note and Mike’s new woman.
First, Calder considered going to the police.
Hello, officer, there’s a two tongued lady licking my best friend’s brain.
No, that wouldn’t work.
Despite the situation, Calder laughed at the ridiculousness. The next thought sobered the flash of humor.
I have to find out what she is and what she wants with Mike. Can’t tip her off.
Calder finished the family portrait. He also finished a bar scene with a lonely dark-haired woman sitting at a small table beneath a green pub lamp. The color of her eyes… He had considered painting a drunken man sprawled on the floor beneath the table but decided against it.
Venora was there that night, so was Gaire… They must be related somehow. What could Venora want with Mike?
A knock sounded on the tin door. “Yes?” Calder called, gruffly, expecting Mike’s voice in return.
An older voice spoke. “Calder? This is Dan, Mike’s dad?” The statement ended in the lilt of a question. “Can I come in?”
Calder grimaced. He didn’t need an awkward meeting with Mike’s dad, but Mike’s parents were technically Calder’s landlords. He dropped his brush into the water jar.
“Just a sec.” He took long strides to the door, sliding it open in one quick whoosh. “Mr. Love.”
Dan waved. “Calder.”
Calder stepped back, sweeping his arm across the air in invitation. “Come in.”
“Sure,” Dan said, his mouth quirked into a grin that could have been Mike’s, but for the age lines surrounding it, and where Mike’s hair was blond, Dan’s hair had turned gray.
Dan stepped toward the stock of finished canvases while Calder whooshed the door closed again. Dan pulled one painting forward, gently resting it on his knee, then another, then another, humming and smiling, obviously appreciating what millionaire goodwill had encouraged. He leaned them back into their place, turned, and offered his hand.
“They’re good,” Dan said. “Looks like you’re ready for your show.”
Calder took the hand, gripped it firmly, and shook it. “I’ve put a lot of effort into giving the best of what I’ve got and making the most of the opportunity. Thank you, again, for your part in that.”
Dan smiled. “Our pleasure.” He pulled his hand from Calder’s and crossed his arms. “I don’t mind telling you, you’ve proved us wrong many times over. I’m afraid we’ve never encouraged Mike’s friendship with you.”
Calder nodded stiffly as the full weight of Dan’s words slammed into an old wound and piqued Calder’s temper. Where was he going with this?
Dan continued, “In fact, when you were teenagers, we did everything but forbid his friendship with you. Mike can be a hardheaded jerk.” He paused, seeming lost in thought. “You probably suspected our disapproval.”
“As the system kid, you get used to the idea of not being good enough.” Calder regretted the harshness in his voice.
Dan nodded, but when he looked up at Calder, admiration gleamed in his eyes. “This is one time I’m glad we were wrong. I think you’ll do all right at the opening. And Mrs. Love and I are happy to have been a part of this.” He waved toward the paintings. “And you’ve been good for Mike, kept him real.”
The silence stretched.
Calder crossed his arms, uncrossed his arms, and then tucked his hands into his pockets. There must be something else Dan wanted to discuss.
Dan studied the finished paintings. Finally, he turned to Calder, “Have you met Venora? Mike seems smitten.”
Calder only shrugged.
“I’m none too pleased. He’s been spending like a madman since that woman came along. He’s already told her about us. That’s unusual for Mike.”
Calder studied the older man’s expression, wondering if Dan had seen anything… weird... about Venora. Instead of voicing the question, Calder remained silent, pondering Mike’s sudden change of heart about introducing new girlfriends to his parents.
Dan crossed his arms. “I want to ask for your help.”
Calder tipped his head to the side. “Anything.”
“We have to find out if this Venora is the real deal or if she is after our money. I want to do that without running her off. If we push her away, Mike will only follow her wherever she goes.”
Calder considered Dan’s reasoning. Made sense. Mike would do just that. Loyalty was one of his best attributes.
“Will you help us?”
Calder nodded. “I’ll do everything I can, sir.” If Dan had any idea when Calder had already discovered, he’d find a way to get rid of Venora.
Turning, Dan shook Calder’s hand once more, before offering a final, “See you tonight.”
Then Dan let himself out the studio door.
Even more disturbed, Calder returned to his painting, shaking his head over the oddness of the unprecedented visit and Mike’s behavior concerning Venora.
Five o’clock brought the sunlight in through the west-facing window. Calder stood and stretched.
Somebody knocked.
Calder frowned. “Yes?” The sound of his own “S” sliding across his tongue brought Venora to mind, and he shuddered.
“Special delivery.” Sounded like Mike.
Though, Calder hadn’t expected to see him before opening night. Calder loped to the door, flinging it wide. The momentum carried it down the tracks. His friend waited on the other side.
“Hey.” Calder leaned out. “Is Venora here?”
Mike shook his head. “She’s shopping… With my mom, I think.”
Calder dropped his paintbrush. “Oh? How long have they been gone?”
Mike grimaced. “She’s mine.”
Calder blew air through his teeth, letting out a long, low whistle. “Noted.”
It was an odd response, but Mike had been all kinds of strange since Venora stepped into the picture. In Calder’s periphery, Mike picked up a brush and studied the tip. Shrugging, Calder wiped his own brush on his pant leg and returned to painting.
Mike juggled three rolls of paper towels. “What do you think of Vee? I’ve started thinking about her more seriously. Kids…”
Calder’s heart thumped in his chest. Apprehension coiled in his stomach. “You just met Venora. What do you even know about her?”
Mike sniffed. “I beg your pardon?”
Calder’s forced his tone to be light, his reaction nonchalan
t. He didn’t turn around, knowing his face would betray his dread. “What if she has a history you know nothing about? What would your parents say?”
Mike grunted.
Calder swooped his brush across the canvas, the mark making him think of red irises. “And kids?” Calder scoffed. “You’ve never wanted them before.”
A paper towel roll hit the back of Calder’s head and fell to the floor beside him. “Sure, I do. You never asked.”
This time, a solemn Calder turned to face Mike. “You have never talked about wanting kids before. You’ve always said the opposite. Now Venora shows up and before the week is out, you’ve done a one-eighty.” Calder crossed his arms.
Mike sneered. “You sound like my dad.”
Calder sighed. To Mike, that was the worst insult he could hand out. Calder ignored his brief blaze of anger. “That’s not fair. I’m only stating facts. Maybe your dad has a point.”
Mike glowered. “I doubt it.”
“What if there is something in Venora’s past that makes her not the marrying kind?” Calder pushed.
Mike’s scowl deepened. “Yeah?” The word came out like a growl, low and threatening.
Calder studied his friend’s face. “What if she’s not… exactly… human?” He threw the last word out like a grenade.
“What?”
“Not human. Maybe she’s not what she says she is.”
At that, Mike launched himself at Calder.
Shocked, Calder ducked out of the way. “What are you doing?”
But Mike didn’t answer. He attacked once more.
Calder defended himself from Mike’s flailing limbs. Calder grabbed Mike across the chest and held him still. “Feel better?”
Mike struggled a little longer against Calder. Finally, he stopped. “Yeah, I guess.”
“Good,” Calder answered.
Mike let out a slow sigh as his shoulders drooped. “I don’t forgive you for implying what you did about Venora’s past. In fact, I don’t care for the way you and my father have decided that she’s not what she says she is.”
Mike paused, then added, “And you?” Hurt colored his tone. “‘Not exactly human’- what does that even mean?”
Calder shrugged, considering his words carefully. There wasn’t any way around what he had to say. “Well, what if she’s not?”
“That is the stupidest thing I’ve heard. What else would she be?”
Calder shrugged.
Mike slammed his hand onto the counter. “Are you jealous because I am finally having serious thoughts about a woman?”
“No, not jealous, but you have to admit it’s fast. Too fast.”
“Not everybody spends ten years comparing real women like Vee to imaginary dream women.” Mike slammed his hand again. “No, not even dream women. Mermaids.” Exasperation filled his voice. “This is stupid.”
“All right.” Calder didn’t add anything else.
Mike trembled, his face pulled taut with emotion. Calder realized then that Mike already loved Venora – a woman that his parents and his best friend didn’t think worth much. Mike made fun of Gaire for not being real, but he had taken some demon creature into his bed. Fury warmed Calder’s belly, and he chewed on his lip to keep from saying anything.
Mike shifted, and his darting glance was suspicious. Yet he didn’t voice what bothered him.
Calder pushed aside his concerns and plastered a jovial smile across his face. “Well, with that out of the way, what say we wow ’em at the opening?”
Mike pressed his lips together.
“Well?”
Mike’s sullen nod was small. “But Venora’s coming.”
Calder slapped him on the back. “I wouldn’t expect anything else.” Calder silently hoped Mike would not back out at the last minute. “I need you, Mike. I’m terrible at these things.” His tone turned apologetic. “Please bring Vee and we’ll all have a good time.”
Mike chuckled. “You are terrible at these things.” He marched to the exit. “See you in a few hours.”
Without another word, Mike turned on his heel and walked out. He marched across the lawn. He waved at the older man and disappeared around the corner.
Calder leaned against the wall. Gaire, I need you. We don’t know what we’ve gotten ourselves into.
Alarm interrupted his thoughts. Mrs. Love. She’d gone shopping with Venora. Calder made a dive for his cell phone, punching the number four repeatedly until the phone auto dialed.
“Hello, Calder.” He could hear the smile in her voice.
He nearly cried out in relief. “Hi, Mrs. Love.” He paused.
“Did you need something, dear?”
“Um, yeah…” He paused again, searching for a plausible answer.
“Oh, you want my help picking out your outfit for your debut?” She sounded giddy.
No good deed goes unpunished. He was glad she was okay, but plausibility was important.
Calder cringed. “You guessed it,” he said. I hate my life.
She chattered for ten minutes, promising to pick some things out for him. He thanked her and ended the call with such force that it slipped from his hands and fell to the ground. The screen exploded in a spider web of cracks.
What an appropriate way to sum up the day.
At least Mike’s mom was still safe. Yet Calder had a feeling her safety might not be assured for long.
That night, Calder left the sliding door open. Propped against pillows and the wall, he was awake when she slipped into his room, but the drowsiness began almost immediately.
“Gaire, wait, I need to talk to you.”
The footfalls stopped.
A worried voice spoke from the shadows. “Calder?”
Calder took a breath. “Who did you mean when you said, ‘She can’t find me here’?”
“No, I can’t tell you yet. Don’t ask me. She’s dangerous.”
Consciousness faded. “My best friend is in danger. I think he’s dating a succubus or something.”
Her voice sounded farther away. “She will kill everyone I love and everyone you love just to hurt me.”
The words chilled Calder’s heart. He reached for the light switch, but it took three tries before he got it to come on.
The sandy footprints stopped a few feet into the room. But Gaire had already disappeared. Mind clearing, Calder rushed to the balcony and looked out.
No sign of her. She had gone, leaving them to their demise at the hands of evil.
Calder slammed the sliding door and stomped back to the bed. He kicked the bedframe, cursing. Switching the light off, he lay awake in bed most of the night.
The mantel clock chimed each hour. At the four bells, a grin broke on Calder’s face. The tempest swirling in his eyes cleared. He had one plan.
“It’ll work,” he murmured.
He had sea monsters to net. On that thought, he settled in to sleep.
Success.
A giddy and champagne-tipsy Calder stepped into the cool night, keys jingling in his pocket. Fog filled the air already. He reeled at how many of his paintings had sold. He’d met more than two dozen of San Francisco’s most heavily moneyed.
Plans for paintings in beach houses, island cottages, and faraway villas filled his head, until a niggling premonition edged out his euphoria. A sobering thought took hold, the triumph of today placed at the feet of one stubborn teenager, driven to befriend and improve the life of a system kid.
He owed Mike everything. On the tail of the re-realization, a deep concern burgeoned. Etched eyes and double tongues swirled in his dulled and muddled thoughts. If he owed Mike everything, then Calder would get rid of Venora.
Permanently.
At that declaration, he turned to go back into the gallery. He approached the entrance, viewing the crowds of people through the pristine glass. The gallery boasted an anteroom with four identical low-lying settees in neutral tones, placed upon a black marble floor.
All Calder’s paintings hid behind cru
mpled paper and black stained bamboo room dividers. India-ink grasses flourished across the panels. Calder imagined the dance-like movements of a master calligrapher. From a black and white print poster held by an aluminum easel, Calder stared at lingering guests. A heavy bold face print declared “Brumen” across the bottom. He’d never get used to seeing his name like that.
Those less interested in the artwork and more interested in being seen in the fashionable part of the city lounged on the furniture or chatted in small groups, clutching long fluted champagne glasses.
Calder strode through the doors, ignored the greetings and those waving him over to their huddled cliques of conversation. He greeted the well-wishers that called out. Driven to find the she-thing and expose her for what she was, he advanced until a lightning clear revelation halted his steps.
If I can pull this plan off right, Mike will hate me.
No, it doesn’t matter. Intent drove him forward once more.
Venora, Mike, and his parents huddled in a dimly lit corner. Mike waved Calder over to join them.
Venora stood near Dan, laughing at something said. Her skin held a turquoise tint. When her gaze swept the room and found Calder bearing down on the little group, red flashed across her irises. A warning pricked at the base of his spine and crawled upward into his brain. Every hair on his body stood on its end.
Venora’s lips lifted in a hideous smile, but he caught the snarl she meant. The air snapped with tension. Two tongues waved behind her teeth. “So, Calder, a good night?”
Calder muttered an agreement, studying Mike as he conversed with Mrs. Love, her white hair coiffed into an elaborately teased mess of matronly waves and tousled curls. Their faces betrayed no notice of anything out of place.
He turned toward Venora and said in a low voice, “Looking a bit worse for wear, Vee.”
Venora tsked, her long tongues slipping between her lips and then back in. “So lovely of you to notice.” She linked her arm with Mr. Love’s and pulled him near. “Mr. Love, have we told Calder the news?”
Mr. Love laughed, but the tone set Calder’s insides crawling. “Yes, did Mike tell you? Mike has decided to marry Vee, and she has agreed.” Mr. Love patted the hand resting in the crook of his arm. “We’re happy about his choice.”
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