CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Cold rain drizzled from the dark gray sky, casting a gloomy shadow over the path that led from Roen’s home to the great hall situated in the heart of the mountain. He had no idea what awaited, but he hoped it was nothing more than what he’d told Liv: the island blowing off some steam. He knew she was upset—everyone knew—but sonofabitch, what had the island been thinking?
Seeing those women torn apart this morning had left an indelible mark on his soul, only fueling his conviction that this way of life had to cease. Then there’d been that moment when he’d believed Liv among the dead, and he’d felt his world crumble. Without her somewhere in his life, he had a difficult time seeing a path forward.
The mountain in the center of the island rumbled and a plume of oily black smoke erupted from its snowcapped peak.
What the foke was that?
He’d never seen the mountain smoke, and they used the great hall frequently—for claimings, dispute resolution, issuing the men’s weekly rations of sacred water, and celebrations—though they didn’t have many of those. Life on the island was mainly dedicated to working—building, standing guard, fishing, upkeep of equipment and boats, or keeping the grounds. A small, very specialized group studied the island for the project he mentioned to Liv.
Of course, I left out a few things. He saw no point discussing how the island’s health had been deteriorating for years—water production declining and her behavior becoming more erratic, sometimes going silent for years as if sleeping or trying to conserve energy. They assumed the massive pollution of the oceans and global warming might be to blame, which was why Roen initiated the project. He’d be damned if he followed in his father’s footsteps, blowing up factories or sinking ships. Murder was not the solution. Mankind either evolved into a more conscientious species or the planet would perish.
That is if you don’t foke things up for everyone first. Roen now feared he would be the cause of all life ending. If he failed to persuade the island to adapt to modern ways and failed at freeing his people, it would all be over. Change isn’t inevitable; it’s necessary for survival.
Roen reached the jagged mouth of the great hall and paused outside. The sound of screaming—not the violent sort, but the suffering sort—echoed outside. He immediately tensed, his mind going into a state of hyperalertness. He grabbed a fallen branch from a pine tree situated next to the entrance and entered, ready for anything.
“Anything except this,” he muttered under his breath, taking in the horrific and chaotic scene before him.
Some of the men clawed at the walls of the cavern, their fingertips raw and bloody. Others held pickaxes and pounded away at the empty pool. Some lay on the slate-gray stone floor, pressing the heels of their palms to their temples or eyes, moaning in agony.
Holden, their healer, lay closest to Roen, writhing on the floor in pain, his mop of curly red hair flopping from side to side. Roen kneeled down and gripped Holden’s shoulder. “Holden, can you hear me?”
Holden, who looked like his face had been sunburned, groaned in agony, covering his face.
“Holden, if you can hear me, tell me what’s happening.”
“It burns. It burns.”
“What burns?” Roen asked.
“My eyes.”
Roen pulled Holden’s hands from his face. “Open your eyes. Let me see,” Roen commanded.
“No. I can’t. It burns too much,” the man wailed. “I need the water. I need the water.”
Roen pried the man’s right lid open, catching a glimpse of what was inside. “Foking hell.” Roen snapped his hand away. Holden’s eyes were blood red.
The man who’d come to retrieve him, a fellow with sandy-blond hair, was in the corner, giving another man sips from a bottle of water.
Roen rushed over. “What are you doing?”
The blond man moved to help another. “It’s my water ration.”
“Is it helping them?” Roen asked.
“Yes, sir, but I don’t have enough.”
Roen looked over his shoulder at the man who’d received a small sip. He got right up and his eyes appeared normal. “You! Tell me what happened,” Roen commanded.
He rubbed his red face and then ran his hands through his short dark hair. “I don’t know, sir. I was outside working and my skin and eyes started burning. I ran straight here, but there’s no more water.”
A punishment. Roen knew the island would lash out, though who could’ve anticipated this? He’d expected her to come after him.
“You two,” Roen pointed to the two men who’d been healed, “go through everyone’s homes and round up all of the rations. Bring them back here.”
The two men hesitated. There were very strict rules about entering another man’s home—one of the many quirks of being a merman. Each man was granted a piece of land on the island, and no one could enter uninvited with a few exceptions. A home was a merman’s castle, which he built with his own two hands, which was why the men who were handy with a hammer had the better homes. Obviously the rule didn’t apply to the leader.
“I’m giving you permission,” Roen said. “No. I’m ordering you.”
“Yes, sir.” The two men nodded and ran off.
“The question you should be asking yourself right now, merman,” said that chilling female voice, “is where this will end?”
He knew she’d eventually pop up for air. “We’re not backing down. You can’t threaten your way out of this.”
“Who said anything about threats?” she chuckled her words. “I’m going to wipe you all from the face of this earth.”
“And risk being unprotected? I don’t think that’s wise. Not when I’m offering you another solution—protection from the world we live in today. It’s only a question of time before humans discover us.”
“You think I need protection from humans, Roen? Because I’ll strike them first. In a few days, they’re going to begin noticing what happens when my mermen step out of line—imagine entire cities going mad, people clawing out their eyes, suffocating in the streets. They’ll think it’s biological warfare, and what will happen then, Roen? How many wars will start when they lash out at their enemies?”
Absorbed in his conversation with the island, Roen had almost forgotten where he was: standing in the middle of a room of screaming mermen who never so much as flinched when in pain. That’s when he noticed one poor man had taken his machete and sliced his own throat. Blood pooled on the floor around him.
“No. Goddammit, no,” Roen said, shocked, stunned, and angry as hell.
“Oh no. Something wrong, merman? A little blood gotcha scared? Because just you wait. They’ll all be dead by morning, driven mad by the pain, and then I’ll get started on the landlovers.”
He fisted his hands, wishing he could kill her. “What do you want?” he growled.
She cackled triumphantly. “Ah. Well, I’m not sure yet. So let’s start with an offering of good faith to get started. I’ll take your mate.”
“You can’t have Liv,” he snarled.
“That’s my price to stop this madness from spreading. I want Liv. Of course, that will be your first punishment for turning the men against me. One of many.”
Roen’s fear for his people closed in on him—had he made a mistake? Then he remembered his dream. The one where the island kept pushing him to choose between saving Liv or saving his men. This is what she always does. And probably was the same method of control used with his father.
Then, those childhood memories—nightmares, really—flooded his thoughts. Those boys in the group home, where he’d lived after his mother died, beat him every day. They broke his nose, they kicked his balls so many times he’d coughed up blood for weeks. No one lifted a finger to stop them, and it was the moment he realized it was up to him. No one was coming to save him. And they weren’t going to stop, because they enjoyed it too much. When the next violent confrontation happened, he was ready. He fought back with a goddamned baseball bat
that delivered one broken arm and a concussion. Not nearly sufficient payback, but they never touched him again. From then on he knew those who didn’t stand up to bullies were only inviting them back for more.
Don’t back down. Don’t ever back down. Because godfokingdammit this had to end.
“You’re trying to make me choose between Liv and everyone else, and I won’t. We want changes. We want the women back like you promised. So until you’re ready to be reasonable, this conversation is over.”
Silence.
Roen didn’t mistake it for a victory. This was far, far from over, and he could only hope his move wasn’t the wrong choice. It was one thing to go down fighting, but it was another to take everyone down with him.
~ ~ ~
After Roen left, Liv ran upstairs to warn Dana about something bad going down, only to discover an empty room.
Her temper shot off like a bottle rocket, quickly fizzling into terror. “No. No. No.” Liv checked ten of the bedrooms, the library, the kitchen, and a few other places. No Dana.
Shane. It was the only other place Liv could think of. Dana had some sort of attraction to that despicable man—okay, Dana liked them all—and she seemed to like Shane the most. Thank God he’d already found a mate, as indicated by the black cloth he wore.
So where was the prison? Liv went to ask one of the men, but everyone had disappeared.
Liv ran out the front door, screaming for Dana, and crashed straight into Roen’s hard, bare chest.
With her hands firmly on his pectorals, she shook her head, trying to remain focused. “Dana is gone.”
Roen growled. “I told you to stay inside the house. Don’t your damned ears work, woman?”
Liv felt her nostrils flare with outrage. “I’m going to pretend, merman, that I didn’t just hear you say that.”
“Why do you say merman like it was an insult?”
“Why do you say woman like it was an insult?” she barked back. “Wait. You know what? I don’t have time for this. Where’s Shane?”
“Why do you ask?”
“Because,” she replied hastily, “I think that’s where Dana went. She’s got some sort of thing for him—okay? I don’t know why.”
Roen frowned, his face flushed. “I cannot deal with this right now.” He pushed past her, then stopped and reached for her wrist. “You’re coming back inside.”
“No. I’m not!” She jerked back her hand. Damn, he has a grip.
“Liv, the island is doing something to the men. I need to return to the great hall. You also need to stay away from me. Far away—please go into one of the guest rooms.”
“What kind of something? And why do I need to stay away?”
Roen walked faster than she could keep up. Those big long, muscle-packed legs were much more agile than they appeared. “I’m not sure yet. Their eyes burn. As for staying away, I’m not in control. Not even a little bit and your smell is driving me mad, woman.”
Liv tripped, but caught herself. “Is the island doing it? And I don’t know what to do about my smell. I’m sorry.” Why were they having these two very different conversations at the same time?
“Maybe—I don’t know.” Roen stormed up the staircase, taking them two at a time. “Go into the guest room and lock the door—the need for you is killing me.”
Liv was not about to hide from Roen. He was the one person she knew would never harm her.
“How is she doing it?” Liv panted, only halfway up the staircase. Because if it could happen to them, it might happen to Roen, too.
“That doesn’t matter. Getting her to stop does,” he called out from somewhere upstairs.
Liv followed the sound of his voice. “You can’t give in, Roen.” She walked past the guest rooms, turned down a long corridor with gleaming black tile floors, and stopped in the doorway, her heart doing a little flutter. Oh my. The room was enormous with a large stone fireplace and velvety furniture upholstered in rich dark reds and browns. The flooring, made of dark stained wood, made the room feel intimate and cozy, just perfect for shutting out the world. Or making love all day long.
“This is your bedroom?” she asked.
“Yes.”
She’d only seen the guest rooms and that included the night she’d spent with Roen when he’d resisted completing the Claiming Ceremony.
“It’s, um…nice.” She gulped.
He had an extra-large, four-post bed with a giant mural on the ceiling of a lonely mermaid perched on a rock, looking out over a wide ocean toward an island off in the distance. The silhouette of a man stared back at her, and the longing in the maid’s eyes told a story of utter loneliness. Imagining Roen falling asleep each night looking up at that mural broke her heart. Imagining Roen in this big empty bed by himself felt even worse.
“Liv?” Roen snapped his fingers.
When she looked up at Roen, who now held two corked glass bottles in his hands, she knew he’d caught on to what she’d been thinking. His eyes moved several times between the bed and her face. Then the bed and her breasts. She saw the unmistakable sign of his semi-arousal pushing out his suede, followed by the air filling with that strange vibration, signaling he wanted her as badly as she wanted him.
Liv closed her eyes and took a deep breath, telling her body to stand down. Especially you, nipples. No doubt, they were poking out through her black dress.
When she opened her eyes again, the look of pain and despair on Roen’s face broke the camel’s back. This is ridiculous. She couldn’t take him lying alone every night when she loved him so much it hurt.
And now that horrifying, ominous feeling in her gut told her something bad was coming. Something that would separate them permanently.
God, she wanted to tell him, but how the hell would that help anyone? By making him paranoid or triggering a self-fulfilling prophecy?
Surprisingly, all her earlier apprehensions about being with him vanished, and she completely understood what he’d been trying to say earlier. There wasn’t going to be a tomorrow or later. This was it for them. How, she didn’t know. But God help her, she couldn’t bear the thought of never knowing, or worse, deprive him of that memory if she were the one who didn’t survive.
“This is torture, Liv. And I really can’t handle it right now—I’ve got to go.” Roen headed for the door.
Liv sucked back her heavy thoughts. “I changed my mind. I want to sleep with you,” she blurted out.
“What?” Roen halted halfway out the door.
She held up her chin. You’re a grown woman, Liv. And you want him. And you sure as hell won’t live with yourself knowing you never gave this man what he wanted, too.
“I want you to make love to me right there in that big bed.” She wanted to show him with her entire body how much she loved him. “And after that,” she said evenly, “I want you to fuck me hard like a goddamned animal.” Because that was her other fantasy, and if this was it, she wanted both flavors of Roen. His soft and sweet side and rough and mermanly side.
Roen’s big green eyes were wide while he gulped. “Now? Because, dammit, Liv, I really have to—”
“No. Of course not now. But as soon as you take care of your men and we find Dana, it’s on.”
He looked at her suspiciously. “What made you change your mind so quickly?”
She couldn’t tell the truth: That she feared something terrible was coming and this was their last chance to be together. “I can’t function like this. I practically orgasm every time I’m in the same room with you and not getting any release is driving me mad. I mean, seriously. Roen, if being apart was bad, this is worse.” That had sounded convincing, right?
Roen stood there staring at her. “You want me to fuck you,” he said, his voice filled with disbelief.
“Yeah. Well, make love first. Then fuck—wait. You’re not going to throw out another excuse, are you? Because—”
“No!” He pushed out his hand. “I only wanted to make sure I heard you correctly. I’m in. And
now I’m going to be as hard as a rock until I have you. Not that I’m complaining—neverthefokemind—I need to take care of this—” he held up the bottles “—and then see our elders to discuss the terms we will offer to the island.”
“What? Roen, no. Don’t throw in the towel. You’ve gotten this far, and your men are behind you.”
“I am not throwing in the towel,” he said. “But we must attempt to reason with her quickly before things get out of hand.”
Yeah. Good luck with that. She sure as hell admired his optimism. He never quit.
“I’m going to go find Dana,” she said. “I’ll meet you back here.”
Roen growled. “You need to stay. It isn’t safe for you to be running around alone, especially when the maids are no longer deterred by daylight.”
“I need to find my sister—like you said, it’s not safe.” She stepped in closer, narrowing her eyes.
“Fine. Come with me. We’ll drop off the water in the great hall, and I’ll take you down into the prison. It’s near there.”
Smart man.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
It wasn’t at all what Liv expected, although now she understood why Roen was freaking the hell out.
“I’ve never seen so much blood,” she whispered, shocked with horror. And she’d never seen anyone claw at their own face. She covered her mouth, holding back the bile while her mind scrambled, unsure of what to do or how to help.
The unaffected men—about half of those in the room—quickly moved from victim to victim, pouring water into screaming mouths.
Okay, okay. I can do that.
She stepped forward, but Roen pulled her back. “No. You’ll only get hurt, and we have plenty of help now.” Roen passed his bottles to one of the men, grabbed Liv’s hand, and tugged her outside before leading her into a densely wooded area. “We need to hurry.”
“Roen, this is bad,” she said, once again trying to keep up with his long strides. “Do you think you have enough water for everyone?”
He ducked under a branch and held it up long enough for her to pass. “I don’t know. But if she hits us with another wave of whateverthehell this is, we’re screwed.”
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