Merciless

by Mimi Jean Pamfiloff

  No struggle. Nobody home. Nobody dead either—thank goodness. But where had they all gone?

  She pushed the heels of her hands against her lids, trying to fight back her tears of frustration and worry. Perhaps they were in the Great Hall at the heart of the mountain.

  Either that or in their homes. There were a few hundred cottages and cabins sprinkled around the island.

  I’ll start with the Great Hall. Much more preferable to running around in that Tim Burton forest at night.

  She turned to leave and heard a faint groan. What was that? She held her breath, listening for the source, but the sound didn’t repeat.

  “Roen? Roen! Is that you?” She sprinted down the hallway and began pushing open the doors to the guest rooms, turning on all the lights. She found room after room empty.

  “Roen!” Frantic, she ran back to his room and then heard the groan again. It was coming from the bathroom.

  Fuck. Fuck. Please be him. She rushed inside and flipped on the lights. A large form lay face down in a pool of dried blood. She quickly kneeled and flipped him over.

  It was Roen. “Oh my God. What happened to you?” She didn’t know what to do. He had dark spots all over his face, torso, and neck. What was it? A plague? Roen’s beautiful lips were chapped and cracked, and he had blood matted in his chin-length, brown hair. The rest of his skin was pale and damp with sweat.

  Liv then glanced at his shoulder, the bandages soaked with blood. Dear Lord, there was an entire piece of his shoulder missing. He looked like he might die any second.

  “Roen. Roen, can you talk? Do you have any water?” The sacred water worked on him. It worked on all of the men from the island. One sip would heal a fatal wound.

  Roen groaned. “Liv, you’ve come to take me.”

  Take him where? “No. I need to get you water. Is there any here?”

  Roen didn’t respond.

  “Fight, Roen. Do you hear me, you bastard? Fight!”

  He couldn’t die. He couldn’t. She stood up and started thinking. There had to be water around here somewhere. Even if it was just a drop, something to keep him from dying.

  She began looking around his immaculate room. He had papers and contracts piled up on his dresser and only a few outfits and personal items in the closet—his human-world clothes.

  I have to find him water.

  Liv snagged a pillow and the plush burgundy blanket from Roen’s bed. She returned to Roen and tried to get as much of the blanket around him and underneath him as possible. As she gently lifted his head, sliding the pillow underneath, she kissed his lips. It didn’t matter what was wrong with him—mer-bola or bubonic mer-plague—she needed to feel his lips again.

  “Don’t you dare die on me, merman,” she whispered. “You still owe me.” Yes, she referred to sex. They still hadn’t slept together—a very, very huge oversight on both their parts. But since the day they’d met, roughly four months ago, their life together had been chaos. Still, the moment she saw him, she’d wanted and never stopped wanting him. She knew he felt the same. So on the off chance he could hear her, the promise of hot sex could only encourage the man to hang on. Right?

  Liv rushed downstairs and stopped at the front door, looking over her shoulder. She didn’t want to leave him. What if he died while she was gone looking for water?

  She took a deep breath. You have no choice. You have to go find him some water. She bolted out into the dark night, praying she wouldn’t run into any hungry maids or angry mermen on her way to the Great Hall.

  ~~~

  Roen was ready to let go now, feeling comforted by knowing that their folklore had been true. His people believed that when a merman died, he would be united in the afterlife with his mate. That had to be why Liv was there. She’d come to take him so they’d finally be together, free from pain and the island.

  But why then was she telling him to fight to stay alive?

  “Liv,” he mumbled, “no more fighting. I’m ready…”

  CHAPTER SIX

  The Great Hall. Liv had never been more petrified of any place on earth. It was a giant cavern with soaring ceilings and a deadly chill in the air, where the mermen’s sacred water trickled from the stone walls and collected in pools toward the back. That, in itself, wasn’t all that scary. But the place had an evil, sick vibe. It was where they held violent, bloody ceremonies and many people were killed. For her, however, this would always be the place where she’d been forced to watch as Roen almost died, fighting for control of the island and for her life. By some miracle, he’d won that day and had gotten her home, but she’d never forget the moment she thought she’d lost Roen, helpless to do anything about it.

  Well, now she was in a position to do something. She would not let him die even if it meant facing her biggest fears.

  Liv took a breath and entered the dark, massive cavern. The smell of mold and darkness hit her nose. She winced. “Hello?” A few wooden chairs lay toppled over on the stone floor. The throne where the leader usually sat was empty, as were a few wooden tables. Blood stained the floor in small pools.

  Liv shivered.

  The last time she’d been in here, there were men going mad, clawing out their eyes from pain as the island punished their disobediences. They’d finally risen up against her and she hadn’t liked it one little bit.

  Liv walked over to one of the gray stone walls and ran her hands along the surface. Bone dry.

  “Come. On!” The clock was ticking on Roen’s life. Think. Think. Think. Where else had she seen water?

  Liv rubbed her eyes with one hand. That doctor, a redheaded man named Holden, had a supply, but she wasn’t sure where his home was.

  Okay. All of the men probably keep a stash. She’d have to follow the trail down the mountain and search whatever homes she found.

  Liv suddenly felt a cold breath on the back of her neck. “Crap!” She swiveled on her heel, shining the flashlight around the room, but it was empty. “I know you’re there, Crazy Dirt! I know you’re watching me! And you’re not going to win. I won’t fucking let you kill Roen.”

  Liv waited for a response, but there was nothing except the eerie silence.

  “I hope that means you’re too weak to talk and dying a horrible death.” But as Liv said those words, she realized that maybe the island’s condition had something to do with Roen being sick.

  Oh God. I hope this doesn’t mean I have to save the island. The thought of lifting a finger for her made Liv violently ill.

  Don’t start making up more problems. Go find water.

  ~~~

  Liv had been prepared to see dead, dying, or more sick men. She’d been prepared to see hungry maids (and run from them). She’d been prepared to go through every dwelling she could find, searching for water, and go all night if she had to. But she had not been prepared to see this.

  The first cabin she’d found, not more than five minutes from the Great Hall, had a small light glowing through the front window. When she knocked, no one answered, so she burst through the front door and went straight for the kitchen. She began rummaging through the cupboards, finding them empty.

  “Who the hell are you?” said a strange female voice.

  “Oh shit.” Liv yelped and jumped. A woman, blonde with a petite frame and a round face, stood in the doorway. She wore a white cotton dress and a giant machete as her accessory.

  Oh no. There must’ve been another Collection. That was when the men who lived here went to the mainland and brought back women for the world’s most awesome date night, merman style, complete with deadly hand-to-hand combat to compete for the different women.

  “Who are you?” the woman asked again, her gray eyes twitching with aggression.

  Liv raised her palms to highlight she was unarmed. “My name is Liv. I was a prisoner on this island once just like you. I can get you out of here, but I need to find something first. The men here use this special water. It—”

  “I am not a prisoner,” the woman said. �
�And I’m well aware what their water does. It’s how they cured me.”

  “Cured you? Of what?” Had this woman caught the same illness as Roen?

  “Of being a maid.”

  Liv stared, wondering if she was joking. It didn’t look like it. “You’re serious?”

  “Yes. And the man dying in the bedroom is my mate.”

  “I’m s-s-sorry,” Liv stuttered. “Can you just…say all that over again? You were a mermaid, and—” Liv blew out a breath. “How’d they change you again?”

  “They gave us the last of the sacred water, and now there isn’t any left.”

  The utter amazement of that information was trumped by the other part of the sentence. “What do you mean ‘there isn’t any left’?” Liv didn’t want to believe it.

  The woman shook her head. “None. We’ve been through every inch of the island. Can you believe these idiots used it all up just to save a few of us? Why would they do that? Now, after everything we’ve been through, we have to sit here and watch them die.”

  Liv took a seat at the small kitchen table in the center of the room, feeling like the wind had been knocked out of her. All of the water was gone. All of it.

  She leaned forward and scrubbed her face with her hands, groaning. I can’t give up. I can’t.

  “Do you know why the men are sick?” Liv asked.

  The woman shot Liv a bitter look.

  “You don’t know,” Liv concluded.

  “It started the day after I was brought back. All I know is the men thought it might be a punishment, but the island is dying, too.”

  Fuck. There has to be something we can do. “So how many maids were transformed?”

  “Only sixty-three of us.”

  “Can you round them up and have them come to Roen’s home? This is all connected. It has to be.” She just didn’t have the necessary pieces to put it all together.

  “They won’t leave their men. Neither will I,” said the woman.

  “Goddammit!” Liv slammed her fist down on the table, feeling exhausted and emotionally frazzled. Roen didn’t have much time left. “Get your head out of your ass. I don’t see anyone around here who is going to save them, so if you and the other ladies would like to perhaps avoid your mates dying, then tell them to meet me in Roen’s fucking house. Yesterday would be nice.”

  The woman’s eyes flickered with irritation for a moment. “I remember you now. You’re the one the island said we couldn’t eat.”

  “What?”

  “I don’t remember much from the time I was a maid—bits and pieces like a bad dream—being underwater, the hunger, and how my heart ached all the time, missing someone I couldn’t really remember. But I remember you. I remember your voice. I remember the island telling us we had to help Shane pretend to kill you.”

  Okay. Weird. “Do you remember why you guys helped him?”

  “Not really. I think we were told it was the only way you’d live. We didn’t want you to die. But that’s all I know.”

  Okay. Really fucking weird. “I have no clue what that means, but if you’d please round everyone up. As quickly as you can.”

  “What do you hope to accomplish?” the woman asked.

  “We’re women. We figure shit out. That’s what we do.”

  The lady cocked a blonde brow. “I’m not sure one single landlover has the power to change anything.”

  Liv was about to tell her to stop talking and start moving, but then she remembered something very important. “Speaking of landlovers, have you or anyone seen a woman named Dana? She’s a landlover—looks a lot like me.”

  “No. No other landlovers on the island that I’ve seen.”

  Dammit. Someone had to know what happened to her.

  “Where is Roen’s brother?” Liv asked, knowing he’d helped arrange to get Dana off the island. Perhaps he knew something.

  The woman shrugged. “Not sure exactly. He stopped checking on everyone last night. But I think he’s been staying in Roen’s home.”

  Lyle had probably been the one who’d wrapped Roen’s shoulder. So where’d he go? He wouldn’t leave Roen dying on the bathroom floor.

  Liv rubbed the back of her neck, shooing away the dread and goosebumps. There were only two rooms she hadn’t checked: Roen’s library and Roen’s basement, where he and the elders—a bunch of crotchety, old, chauvinistic mermen—met to discuss very important mermanly things that women weren’t allowed in on.

  Liv suddenly wondered where the elders were. I hope dead already. At least that Naylor man, anyway. He looked like a mummified asshole—wrinkly with saggy skin and hazy green eyes. He was cruel, arrogant, and—okay, a typical merman. But he’d been one of the people to help Shane steal her away and tried to get Roen killed.

  Liv looked up at the woman. “What’s your name?”

  “Amelia. At least, that’s what my mate, Jason, tells me. I don’t remember.”

  “You’re Jason’s woman?”

  She nodded. “I am.”

  Jason was a tall blonde man who was one of Shane’s posse. He’d thrown her to her death. “I’ll try not to hold it against you.” The truth was, she liked Jason in a strange way. Or she did up until the point he had carried out her execution. “And if you want to save him, get the women to Roen’s. I’ll meet you all there.”

  With flashlight in hand, Liv hit the trail, sprinting back to Roen’s house. Every step she took felt like two steps back, moving her further and further away from hope. It felt like she was being tested and pushed to the edge. It had felt that way since the moment she’d woken up at Shane’s.

  An endurance challenge created from every fear and nightmare she’d ever had. Yet, here you are. Still alive. Still fighting. So shut the hell up, Liv, and stop your whining. Roen needs you.

  Winded and exhausted, Liv entered the home and pushed herself up the stairs to check on Roen. He was exactly where she’d left him, of course, only now he wasn’t groaning, and his skin looked like someone had taken a sponge coated with black paint and covered nearly his entire body.

  “Roen? Can you hear me?” She knelt down beside him and listened to his breathing. It was shallow, barely there.

  She placed her forehead against his chest. “Roen, I love you. Please hang on. I’ll find a way to save you. I promise. Just don’t leave me.”

  His chest seemed to puff up just a little higher then.

  “That’s right. You just keep breathing.” She wanted to believe that he’d heard her. Hell, maybe he had. Which is why she said, “Roen, just know I’ll give everything to save you—my life if I have to. I don’t care if I die; I just want you to live.” He’d given up so much to save her, and every time she thought about it, it had upset her. She never wanted to live at his expense. And though she knew he’d feel the same way about her giving up her life to save him, it didn’t matter. A world without him in it just didn’t make any sense.

  He sighed deeply, and she adjusted the pillow underneath his head. She then removed her backpack and uncapped a bottle of water. It wasn’t sacred, but at least it might hydrate him. She tried to get him to sip, but he simply lay there, out cold.

  Oh God. This was so bad.

  “I’ll be back in a few minutes, okay?” She made her way downstairs, hoping to find Lyle. She entered the library and her feet made a squishing sound. The rug was wet and the fish tank that once held dozens of saltwater fish was now half empty. No fish. The water was all over the floor, rotting the wood and making the place smell damp and moldy.

  “Lyle? Are you in here?” She walked down the long aisles of dusty old, leather-bound books. It didn’t escape her that there were thousands of years of history in this archive and probably the answer to every question about this place. If I only had time to read all of this stuff.

  “I don’t fucking believe it,” said a deep, deep voice.

  Liv practically jumped out of her skin. “Lyle.” She whooshed out a breath, taking in the view of him. His long brown hair was matted a
nd his ratty beard looked like he hadn’t combed it in months. His normally tanned face was a mask of inky splotches. Even his upper torso and legs were covered, which she could see because he only wore a piece of red cloth around his waist.

  “How are you alive?” His body began leaning to one side, and he caught himself on the wall. “I killed you,” he mumbled.

  She rushed over to help steady him. “What’s happening, Lyle? Why’s everyone sick? And where the hell is Dana?”

  “You’re a ghost coming to take me to the afterlife, aren’t you.” It wasn’t a question.

  “Lyle.” She gripped his arm. “Fucking look at me. Do I look dead to you?”

  His green eyes met hers, flickering with confusion. “I put the machete in your back with my own two hands. I watched you bleed out in the living room. I fed your body to your sisters.”

  Okay. Eww. And gross. And… “Lyle! I’m not dead! Shane took me. He made it look like the maids ate me, but he had some sort of deal with them—or the island did—I don’t know! But I’m alive and Roen is dying and Dana never made it home. So please tell me what’s happening.”

  Lyle’s knees gave out under the weight of his massive body and he slid down to the floor.

  With his bare back now against the wall, Lyle’s head sagged forward. Compared to Roen, who was a large, muscular and lean man, Lyle made his six-foot-six brother look like a Shrinky Dink.

  “Who did I kill? Who did I kill?” he mumbled.

  Liv felt terrified—what was new—but someone being dead wasn’t something she could fix.

  “I don’t know, Lyle, but I need to save your brother and you and…” She swallowed. “And this damned island if I have to.” Though she hoped to God that saving Crazy Dirt was not the answer. This island needed to die. It needed to sink to the fiery pits of hell and burn. It was evil. “Tell me anything you know.” She shook him hard while his eyes fluttered toward the back of his head. “What’s happening? What made you sick? And where. The hell. Is Dana?”