Mermaidia: A Limited Edition Anthology

by Pauline Creeden

  Calder tugged his red-hued chin hairs. “You people are always doing that. Do you always have to do that?”

  Melody only beamed, ignoring Calder’s scowl.

  “We’re ready, Gaire. I still feel odd calling you that. We should be calling you queen,” Hope answered.

  Gaire laughed, stepping forward to pat Hope’s shoulder. “We can save that for when it’s official.”

  Several bags sat around the two pair with white scaled feet. “What’s in the bags?” He had not thought it possible, but her grin brightened even more.

  “Weapons, supplies, anything we thought we might need to defeat the foe and protect the queen.” Melody was nodding again.

  Calder spoke through the bond, “Will they really be much help?”

  A shiver danced down her spine before she turned to smile at him, pride shining in her eyes. “I love it when you do that.” Her eyes flicked back to where the twins stood. “They will. I have seen them fight. I did not ask for volunteers, but they volunteered.”

  Uncertainty spread through the bond. “And we’ll need all the help we can get to defeat Venora.” He barely caught the added, “And whoever is helping her.”

  Chapter 19

  Calder’s head popped above the ocean’s surface. They’d reached Golden Gate Strait.

  Home… He looked around. Funny, it didn’t feel like it anymore. He ducked behind a milk jug as a boat motored past.

  Hope, Melody, and Gaire waited in the murky depths of the bay, hiding out.

  The beginnings of a cramp pinched the dorsal muscles of his tail, but he ignored it, scanning the sands of Baker Beach, hoping to catch a glimpse of Mike.

  The shallower water offered less opportunity to hide, so Calder slowed his approach. If Mike was up to a morning run, he’d be along shortly.

  Calder laid a newspaper over his head and settled in to wait.

  As the sun crested the horizon, lighting up the patches of fog in the bay, emblazoning the orange of the Golden Gate Bridge, Calder caught sight of a lone figure jogging down from the familial beach house traveling northward up the beach. The chest was tanned and bare, the shock of yellow hair reflecting the sunrise.

  Mike.

  Calder swam nearer, grasping a bit of driftwood in front of him to hide his presence. Mike’s progress was slow, and Calder was close enough to see that Mike had lost weight and dark circles hung below his eyes.

  “Oh, man, you look awful,” Calder whispered.

  As if he’d heard, Mike halted and stared toward the bay, gasping from the run. He rested in a still shadowed place on the beach. He dropped to one knee, his lips moving quickly. Calder propelled himself forward, though he still could not hear the words spoken in genuflection.

  The sun broke over the bridge, brightening Mike’s tawny hair in a burst of blond. An “Amen” floated across the sea breezes, then Mike straightened. Bare feet took three steps, flipping sand up and aside as his stride lengthened and his speed increased. The figure dwindled into the distance, disappearing around the beach corner.

  Calder swam forward. As the silty ocean floor met the tip of his fin, he pressed his legs together. The glow flared and two legs with tangerine tinted scales replaced his yellow-green fin. He summoned thoughts of jeans, and denim facsimile formed around him. His conjured jeans felt unnatural. The denim scratched against his scales, irritating him.

  Then it disappeared. Then it showed up again. He frowned. That could be a problem. He focused on them and managed to get them to stabilize.

  All ashore that’s going ashore, he pressed the thought toward Gaire.

  “I’ll travel landward tonight. Be careful, love,” she answered back, the sweet sound bouncing through his mind.

  From the beach, Calder peered over the edge of Mr. and Mrs. Love’s lawn situated atop the rock face. They had prime San Francisco real estate. Made it easier for a merman on the prowl.

  Calder winced. It all belonged to Mike now.

  He squinted through the breaks in the privacy fence. Despite the deaths, the manicured expanse had not changed. Against the back of the house, the curlicue shrubbery still looked like jagged, dark green fingers crawling up the white adobe.

  A heavy fog had settled over the bay, casting a gray hue. It came at the wrong time of day, and it dampened the morning sun, but it hid Calder from nosey beach goers. Images of Gaire washed through his mind, and he checked the corner of his thoughts now reserved for her.

  He tried to see into the large picture windows that covered the rear of the house. Yet he could not see through the cloud now hanging over the bay.

  An idea struck him. Gaire… He waited.

  Her answer was not long in coming. “Yes?”

  There’s a heavy fog, but the sun was shining bright earlier. Is that your doing?

  He understood that she smiled. Though, he couldn’t see it.

  Yes. After you’d gone, I practiced pulling clouds from the sky. Seemed to work. I thought it would help.

  He sensed her uncertain pause, felt her second guessing herself. Insecurity crept into her thoughts. She chewed her bottom lip, and he was captivated by the mental image. Her hesitation filled the bond.

  It’s perfect. With a twinkly-eyed scowl, he scolded, But next time, you better let me watch you practice any new talents you find.

  Not waiting for her response, he climbed the old rock steps that had been deeply laid into the sandy soil leading down to the beach. He approached the black-coated chain linked fence. Still no movement in the yard.

  Slipping his hands deep into his pockets, he adjusted his pants, a frustrated whisper escaped, “They never bothered me like this before.”

  A metallic crash caused Calder to duck low behind the slatted gate. A bell jingled low to the ground and a meow followed, moving from the right to the left.

  Stray cat.

  Gaire heard him, but said nothing.

  Heart pounding in his ears, he listened carefully, but no more sounds came. Despite the climbing sun, Gaire kept the fog heavy. Calder grasped the lock in his hand. He tugged. When it didn’t release as usual, he frowned, trying to remember the code.

  Why is it locked? It’s never locked. Birthday, birthday… somebody’s birthday… He thought. Oh. 04-21.

  Pushing aside the twist of his heart, he turned the dials to the date of Mrs. Love’s birthday. With a click and a lift of the wrist, it popped open.

  How many times have I done exactly this? Every time the same, but this time…

  Hooking the lock on the fence, he lifted the latch and pushed inward. The gate caught as it swung over the thick Bermuda. He leaned into it, shoving twice before pushing it open far enough to let him in.

  Stepping around, his toe caught on something soft, and he tripped. Catching himself on his left foot, Calder straightened, turning as his temper ticked. His eye lighted on an arm bent backward, covered in a rolled up khaki shirt. Bones protruded from a dark gash in the forearm, the body warped into an inhuman shape, blood splashed across the white pants.

  The eyes had fogged over, staring but seeing nothing. Flies buzzed over the body, marching undisturbed across the dead man’s cheeks. Calder staggered sideways. Anger boiled up until a seething fury enveloped him.

  “Calder? Is it Mike?” Gaire’s gentle question banked his rage.

  No, someone else. Gaire did not respond, but he felt her sorrow, lapping against his wrath, cooling it until the jeopardy inherent had faded.

  So senseless, why kill the old man? Venora must answer for her actions.

  Footsteps crunched over the gravel path. Panicked, Calder darted into the studio. He searched the room. He needed a hiding place quickly. The fog still hid his escape from view. Though, the footsteps came closer.

  “Who is it?”

  I don’t know.

  Folding himself between a sideboard and the farthest corner from the door, he held his breath, his legs pressed against his ribs, pinching the floating rib on both sides of his ribcage.

 
Mike stepped from the fog, mumbling to himself. “Where did that gardener go? He should be here by now. He didn’t ask for any time off.”

  Week-old stubble shadowed Mike’s chin and cheeks above an emaciated frame. He stumbled around the room, but he couldn’t have missed the body.

  The mumbling continued. “Left this door open, Calder. When will you be back from Hawaii? Venora wants to get married. My parents love her. They’ll be at the wedding.”

  A screeching voice called from the distant fog. “Mike. Mike. Come back in here.”

  The vibrating other-worldly voice cut off as Mike slid the door closed. “Coming, Venora,” he called weakly. Then he trudged away from the outbuilding.

  Calder rushed to the window to watch Mike shuffle past the contorted remains of the gardener and into the heavy fog. Calder clenched and unclenched his teeth, the action echoed by his fists.

  Venora might not have murdered Mike yet, but she had sucked all the life from his best friend. She had a reckoning due.

  Gaire, come quickly.

  The full moon lit the strait, and the water shimmered in sparkles.

  The unnatural fog had faded while Calder hid inside his studio and cursed the she-devil that held his friend captive. Glancing through the window, he saw no movement inside the main house.

  Gaire drew closer, and the twins were with her.

  He watched from the window, waiting quietly, feeling the rush of warmth as Gaire shifted from fin to legs.

  04-21. He shared the numbers through their link.

  “What?”

  Gate code. Calder did not add anything else, steeling himself for the coming task. A soft rattle of metal brought Calder to stand at the rear window, where he watched Gaire, Hope, and Melody slip into the backyard. Their feet made no sound. Hope and Melody each had heavy canvas bags slung over their shoulders.

  He gently pushed against the door, giving them entrance. Standing inside and wet from their swim, they each left a puddle on the floor beneath them.

  Calder pulled Gaire against him, taking a moment to relish the serenity in her nearness.

  “Where is Mike?”

  He leaned into the nape of her neck, letting her smell fill his mind. In the house, I think. Pulling strength from the softness of her comfort, he took a deep breath. To Melody and Hope, he asked, “Are you ready?”

  Hope grinned, pulling armor from their bags and handing duplicate pieces to Melody. Then Hope strapped a thin gauntlet to her forearm. “My mother heard a saying once. I think it went something like… Paybacks are a water witch.”

  “Close enough.” With that, he slipped out, quietly padding toward the house.

  Gaire followed, Hope and Melody brought up the rear, armor glinting in the bright moonlight.

  Hiding in the shadow of a corner, Calder peered into the window. Seeing nothing, he pressed himself against the backdoor and pulled the levered handle down slowly. It clicked quietly, swinging on silent hinges, and Calder eased through.

  Almost there, he thought.

  He could feel the air thrumming with anticipation and something else.

  Gaire answered, “I think it’s me.”

  Calder puzzled only a moment before nodding. Then he stepped onto the wooden floor. No sound stirred. No alarm blared. He waited as Hope stepped into the living room, followed by Melody, who gently closed the door behind them. The dim lights glinted on the daggers they now held.

  The air around them began clicking, popping like static electricity in a woolen sweater. Gaire?

  “I can’t help it, Calder. She’s here. I can feel her.”

  Where?

  “Just here. That’s all I know.” Gaire’s hand closed around Calder’s arm. “But Mike is here, too. Be careful.”

  Calder looked into her eyes. Something else?

  She nodded. “Mike won’t be on our side… not at first.” She grimaced.

  Even though we’re old friends? Surely he remembers me. I haven’t been gone that long.

  Gaire lifted her shoulders. Your guess is as good as mine.

  They moved through the house, slowly, warily, peeking into each room before gingerly entering, leaving none of the vast expanse unexplored.

  Until finally, Calder stopped, back in the living room.

  “Where is she?” He whispered. Still here?

  Gaire nodded. A clatter down the bedroom hallway startled the hunting quartet, bringing the twins and daggers forward into attack posture.

  The panic room.

  Calder burst between the twins and jogged down the hall, impatience winning over caution. Launching himself into Mr. and Mrs. Love’s room, he dove toward the nightstand, keeping the bed between himself and the entrance to the panic room. He knew Venora could see him. Gaire remained around the corner.

  A thump-thump-thump sounded from behind the wall.

  He grasped the handle on the drawer. Yanking it open, he spied the nine-millimeter pistol Mr. Love kept there. Yes. Venora didn’t know and Mike forgot.

  He released the clip. Perfect. Fully loaded.

  Then he twisted to face the panic room entrance. “Come on. I’m waiting for you,” he bellowed at the wall.

  He pointed the barrel at the hidden entryway. Gaire, Melody, and Hope waited in the hall, their eyes on Calder. The wall opened slightly.

  Venora issued an answering wail. “Waiting for me? Mike is in here.” The pounding intensified. “I can kill him.”

  “You can,” Calder concurred. “But then what keeps me from killing you?”

  Venora laughed manically.

  The door opened farther, exposing the interior. Mike sat in a stupor on the floor, staring into the distance. Anger flared in Calder again. A single tentacle slipped into the center of the room, held over Mike’s head.

  Calder shot three times, missing the wiggling appendage and Mike.

  Venora cackled.

  Calder sank behind the bed. From there, he caught Gaire’s eye. “Calder, I think I can do… something.” He nodded.

  The air in the room suddenly crinkled and popped with intensity. Green eyes glowing, Gaire lifted her hands toward Venora, palms down, eyes closed. The panic room entrance was flung wide, baring her white-gray squid upper body, over the humanoid lower shape.

  Calder squeezed the trigger. Three more shots flew. Aim true, two grazed the shape shifter’s elongated head and one lodged in her shoulder.

  Her pain-filled shriek shook the windowpanes.

  Mike roused, mumbling to himself, patting the gaping wound. “Poor Vee, poor Vee,” he repeated over and over.

  Venora struck Mike, lifting him from his feet and flinging him into the frame. He crumpled to the floor.

  Calder bellowed, “Mike.” He threw himself onto the king size bed, squeezing the trigger and emptying the clip into the squishy creature. She did not fall, but shrieked again, slamming each of her ten arms on the floor, splintering the hardwood and breaking tiles. Flying at Calder, she knocked him to ground at the foot of the bed. Her ten arms soon overpowered his two.

  Mike stirred, then stood, swaying on unsteady feet. Mike reached into the secret room. When he brought his hand back, he held a 454 revolver. As if under a spell, Mike stepped toward Calder, holding the weapon out at arm’s length, pointed directly at Calder.

  Struggling against Venora, Calder tried to free himself. Each time he freed an arm or a leg, she recaptured it. Mike still pointed the gun barrel at him. Can’t get free.

  He felt Gaire strain, just behind the wall, all three still hidden from Venora.

  “Hush, I will not let you die.”

  Mike pressed the barrel against Calder’s forehead. Gaire, he thought again. I love you.

  “Hush.”

  He felt her reach out, siphoning energy from the earth, the water, the sky. Molecules danced in the air. He struggled against the arms holding him down. Venora’s hold weakened when she turned to study the wall that hid Gaire.

  She feels it, too. Gaire, what are you doing?

&nb
sp; “Distract her.” Calder kicked toward Venora, trying to unseat her. “You’re going to die.”

  Venora glared at Calder. “No, I won’t.”

  Mike pulled the hammer back, eyes glazed over.

  Venora beamed at Mike as if he was an honored pet.

  Mike said, “You are dead, Cold Water. Dead. Gaire will die.”

  A light exploded in front of Calder’s eyes, dulling his senses. He couldn’t move. Blinking rapidly, he tried to clear his vision. Two screaming women clattered into the room, each one shouting in a language Calder couldn’t understand. A shriek sounded close to his ear. The blast of a gun echoed in the room, and then there was nothing.

  Dead, am I dead? Have I been shot?

  As his pulse throbbed in his ears, everything else was a blank of sounds. Dark shapes slowly congealed into people. Features appeared in the shadows. His vision slowly returned. Laying on the floor, he gathered his wits.

  Venora no longer held him down, and Calder sat up. “Gaire?” Calder called, the sound muffled and faraway.

  The twins hunched over the gelatinous remains of Venora. Bits of tentacles stretched out from a semi-humanoid shape, and the tips twitched like a snake missing its head. Pushing himself up to an elbow, Calder surveyed the room.

  Gaire’s cool hands caressed the hair at the nape of his neck, humming what seemed a familiar lullaby. “See, you’re alive,” Gaire crooned.

  A blue glow settled over Calder. His heartbeat raced, pushing weariness from his limbs and clearing his thoughts. When Gaire’s hands fell away, Calder discovered that even his stomach had settled, despite the gore covering the room.

  “It’s done.” Gaire spoke the words softly.

  Calder asked. “Venora is dead?”

  “Completely, this time. Guess I found a new gifting.”

  He paused. “Did Venora explode?”

  “It seems so.” Gaire smiled, but concern pulled her eyebrows together. “Mike is struggling in the wake of her death.”

  Calder leapt to his feet. “Where is he?”

  Gaire pointed to the hallway. Hope cradled Mike’s head in her lap, whispering softly in his ear, stroking his face. A slight glow danced at her fingertips. Mike’s eyes rolled back in his head, his body seizing violently.