Deep Water

by Nicola Cameron

  “I wasn’t planning on it.” Dunn glanced out the kitchen windows. “Do you think you have enough energy to walk down to the shore?”

  “If I have to. Why?”

  Dunn’s eyes twinkled. “Would you like to see another mermaid?”

  ****

  “I don’t believe this is happening,” Griffin said, sounding slightly dazed as they made their way across the sand. “This isn’t some practical joke or anything, right? I’m not going to have a camera crew jumping out of the water at me?”

  “No camera crew, and I promise you it’s no joke.” Poseidon slowed his pace to his mate’s unsteady footsteps, ready to grab Griffin if he started to fall. They stopped on the damp curve of the shore. “Just wait here and I’ll call her.”

  After getting Griffin’s enthusiastic agreement, he’d left the cottage and gone over to Nick’s cottage. Introducing Aidan or Liam in their natural forms would have been the easiest way to fulfill his offer, but both of the mers had already headed off to work with his sons. Sighing, Poseidon had summoned one of the tritons standing guard in the cove and sent him off to find a human-friendly mer.

  Now the sea god stood ankle-deep in the surf, searching the waters of the cove for a familiar shape. It suddenly appeared, arrowing towards him.

  A blonde head popped out of the water. “Greetings, L—”

  “My name is Dunn Seaton, mer,” Poseidon said quickly, cursing himself for not warning the mer about his real name. “May I ask your name?”

  The mer blinked at him, but bowed her head. “I am Meghan, ranger with the Bright Water grotto,” she said respectfully. “I was told there was a human here who wished to meet a mermaid?”

  Dunn gestured at Griffin, who was goggling at her. “This is Griffin Moore, a personal friend of mine.”

  As he’d hoped, she understood the meaning in his words and swam closer to shore. With a burst of graceful strength she hand-walked onto the sand, leaving her sinuous tail half-exposed. It shaded from moss green at the waist to a deep royal blue at the fluke, and the scales glittered in the Florida sunshine.

  From the waist up she looked like a healthy human female. Her curly hair turned a lighter shade of honey as it dried, and her oval face featured large dark eyes and a kissable mouth. Her arms and torso were sleekly muscled, and pert, conical breasts lay beneath a cord necklace that bore beads with her grotto’s sigil and ranger ranking. Poseidon wished now that he’d asked the triton to find a mermaid who wasn’t quite so lovely.

  She shifted a bit on the sand. “Hello, Griffin Moore,” she said cheerfully. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

  Griffin’s jaw worked silently for a moment, then he shook his head. “Sorry, sorry. I wasn’t … I mean, Dunn said that you were real, but…” He trailed off, staring at her in a daze. “You’re so pretty.”

  The mermaid beamed at that. “Thank you. You’re quite handsome yourself,” she said, hitching around until she was resting on one hip. “I like your hair—it looks like moonlight on the sea. Do many humans have two hair colors like that?”

  Poseidon stifled a chuckle as Griffin brought a self-conscious hand up to his salt-and-pepper head. “Only when they get old.”

  “You don’t look that old.”

  “I’m fifty.”

  She laughed at that. “You’re just a baby. I’ll be eighty-seven this midsummer.”

  This time Griffin’s jaw dropped. “You’re kidding me. You look like you’re in your twenties.”

  Meghan glanced at Poseidon, who nodded slightly. “Mers live longer than humans, and we age more slowly,” she explained. “The head elder of my grotto is going on three hundred years old, and she looks only a bit older than you.”

  Poseidon stood behind his mate as Griffin plopped onto the sand to continue his conversation with Meghan. He seemed fascinated by mer society, either not noticing or accepting the way Meghan deflected any questions about how her people had remained hidden for so long. Poseidon wanted to give her permission to tell Griffin everything, but that would bring up more questions that he wasn’t ready to answer yet.

  “This is amazing,” Griffin said, idly digging his heels into the waterlogged sand. “God, I wish I could still dive. I’d love to visit one of your grottos. Have you been to one?” he turned, looking over his shoulder at Poseidon.

  “A few times, yes,” the sea god said. “They’re not overly fond of humans, however.”

  “This is true,” Meghan said, tucking a lock of hair behind one ear. The movement gave a lovely jiggle to her breast, and Poseidon was glad Griffin was looking at him. “Landwalkers don’t have the best of reputations when it comes to other intelligent species.”

  “No, I suppose we don’t,” Griffin said. “For what it’s worth, I’m sorry for that.”

  Meghan gave him a gracious nod. Shifting to godsight, Poseidon noted that Griffin’s energy, boosted by breakfast, was starting to fade again. “How are you feeling?” he asked.

  “Hm?” His mate blinked. “Oh. I’m a little tired. I didn’t sleep very well last night. Had these weird dreams that kept waking me up.”

  “Then you should go back to your home and rest,” Meghan said, brow furrowing in concern. “If you wish, I can come back tomorrow and talk with you some more.”

  “Seriously?” Griffin looked like someone had granted his heart’s wish. “That would be terrific, thank you.”

  With one last glance at Poseidon, the mermaid leaned forward and gave Griffin a kiss on the cheek. “Sleep well and dream of swimming with me, Griffin Moore,” she said, winking.

  Pushing back, she slipped into the water again, breaching the surface once with her fluke in a wave before disappearing. Poseidon realized he was gritting his teeth and forced his jaw muscles to relax. I’d forgotten that mermaids tend to be shameless flirts.

  The dazed smile on Griffin’s face didn’t help. “That was the most incredible thing that’s ever happened to me,” he said, letting Poseidon help him to his feet. “Thank you. Thank you so much.”

  “You’re welcome,” Poseidon said, enjoying the pleasure that radiated off his mate. “I’m glad that I was able to give you the opportunity.”

  He regretted his words the moment the smile left Griffin’s face. “How did you do that, anyway?”

  “It’s all part of that long, complicated story—”

  “Yeah, yeah, the one that needs booze and dinner,” Griffin interrupted. “I’m not hungry, and I have some Scotch. Let’s go back to the cottage and you can tell me all about it.”

  You laid the trap and walked squarely into it. What do you plan on doing now, Lord of the Waves? “Well—” he began.

  “Father?”

  He turned, surprised and relieved to see Aphros coming from Ian’s cottage. “Yes?”

  “Hi. Hi, Griffin.” His son waved cheerily at his mate. “The three of us were going to go over to Olympic Beach later on and watch the fireworks. Would the two of you like to come along?”

  “Fireworks?”

  He heard Griffin snort. “It’s the Fourth of July, you plonk. Even I know that.”

  It’s the American holiday of independence from Great Britain, Aphros informed him. They celebrate it with picnics and fireworks.

  “Oh. I must have lost track of the date,” Poseidon said mildly.

  Aphros’s eyes twinkled at his lie. “Ian said driving there will be murder with all the traffic, so we were going to take the boat. It’ll be a bit of a tight squeeze, but we should be able to fit.”

  And there was Poseidon’s excuse. “It sounds delightful,” he said. “Griffin, if you take a nap now I’m sure you’ll feel up to sailing by tonight.”

  The mortal shot Poseidon a dirty look that said I know what you’re doing, and you’re a bastard for doing it. “I suppose. We can always talk afterwards, can’t we?” he said meaningfully.

  Poseidon just smiled.

  ****

  After a somewhat grumpy afternoon nap, Griffin headed back to the blue cottage at d
usk. It turned out that Ian had also invited Nick and his mers to come along on the short voyage to Olympic Beach, not knowing about Aphros’s invitation. Once the mix-up was sorted out, it was decided that since they had two sailboats Nick and Liam would sail on the Seabird with Dunn and Griffin, while Aidan would sail with Ian, Aphros, and Bythos.

  “Getting tonight off was a minor miracle, seeing as I’m low man on the totem pole, but one of the other docs wanted the extra pay so I let her have my shift,” Nick said to Griffin after showing up at the dock with a cooler of food and beer. “I’ve spent enough Fourths in the ER sewing up drunks and treating firecracker burns. Someone else can do the heavy lifting this year.”

  Griffin suspected that the doctor’s presence on the Seabird had to do more with the tumor in his head than anything, but he didn’t feel like fighting it. He sat in the bow seat, fingering his life vest as Dunn guided the boat into open water. It had been a number of years since he’d had the chance to go night sailing, and he’d forgotten the sheer pleasure of watching the stars come out like diamond dust scattered across black velvet.

  It helped temper some of his annoyance over not being able to sit down with Dunn and talk about how the big man had gotten to be so pally with mermaids, not to mention how they were being poisoned and turned into the kind of creature that attacked them on the island. If the slippery son of a bitch thinks he’s getting out of that explanation, he’s got another think coming.

  Nick and Liam sat in the middle of the boat, chatting about the upcoming fireworks show. “You’re going to love this, Li,” the doctor said with enthusiasm. “Back in Chicago I always used to go out to the lakefront on the Fourth to watch the fireworks. Granted, it was usually during Taste of Chicago so there were fifteen million other people out there with me, but it was still an absolute ball.”

  “I’m sure it’ll be spectacular,” Liam said fondly. “The videos on YouTube certainly looked impressive.”

  “Haven’t you ever seen fireworks live before?” Griffin asked.

  Nick got a slightly odd look, but Liam just shook his head. “We didn’t have them where I grew up.”

  “Really? I thought all Americans loved to shoot off fireworks.”

  Now Liam had that same odd look. “I’m not American.”

  “Oh. Sorry. I just assumed. Canadian?”

  “Nope.”

  “Well, I know you’re not from the UK, and you don’t sound like an Aussie or a Kiwi.”

  The tall man grinned. “I’m from the Cayman Islands. My parents emigrated there in the 70s.”

  “Oh, nice,” Griffin said. “Being on the water must be second nature to you, then.”

  Nick choked on his beer, and Liam patted him on the back. “Pretty much,” he said to Griffin. “You could say that I’ve been on the water since I was born.”

  Now Nick glared at his boyfriend. “Anyway,” he said deliberately, “Ian said that we’ll be anchoring out past the marina. Heather said something about joining us, but I don’t know for sure.”

  They were getting yet another passenger? “Who’s Heather?” Griffin asked, hoping he didn’t sound grumpy.

  “She owns an antique store in town. Nice lady.” Nick glanced over his shoulder at Dunn. “Although she’ll probably be on Ian’s boat, all things considered.”

  That caught Griffin’s attention. “Does she know Dunn?”

  “Yeah.” The boat’s running lights made it difficult to judge Nick’s expression, but Griffin thought the doctor looked uncomfortable. “Apparently they have some history. It’s probably best if they stay on separate boats.”

  The brief pang of jealousy Griffin felt was embarrassing. He’s a handsome bloke in the prime of his life—of course he’s going to have old girlfriends. He also has a wife, remember?

  It was the fault of those damned dreams, he decided. It didn’t help that some of them had been wonderful, sensual dreams about swimming naked with Dunn in a moonlit lagoon. Somehow it had felt so immensely right when the dream Dunn’s arms closed around him, pulling him in for slow, drugging kisses that left him aching with desire. If he was still able to get hard, he would’ve woken up with sticky sheets, and wouldn’t that have been a hell of a thing to explain to the rental agency?

  Of course, those were the good dreams. There were also the horrible ones where he was in an echoing building of marble being chased by a monster. Somewhere in the background he could hear a woman shouting at both of them as he ran down pale corridors, heart thumping hard and breath whistling in his lungs. No matter how hard he ran or how much he tried to escape, though, he always ran into a dead end. When he turned, panting with dread, the shadowy monster would grab him, humid, wine-sour breath prickling his face as the thing crushed him to the ground.

  The weird thing was, the monster was somehow also Dunn. Dream logic had cast his friend as both lover and attacker, and he had no idea why.

  He risked a look at Dunn. Between the leanly muscled body, the thick, dark auburn curls ruffling in the sea breeze, and the close-cropped beard, the man looked like a Greek god dressed in modern clothes.

  Griffin felt a little thrill. All right, yes, the bastard is handsome, and charming, and funny. And he definitely does something for you. Not only did he genuinely like Dunn, but he idea of going to bed with the big man, wrestling in the sheets with someone as tall and strong as himself, held a primal appeal that was surprising in its intensity.

  But that was the problem, wasn’t it? He couldn’t go to bed with Dunn, or anyone else for that matter. His last erection had been well before the final, ineffective round of radiation. Since then his penis had remained frustratingly flaccid and he’d resigned himself to the fact that he was impotent. And I can’t exactly ask him to settle for a cuddle, can I?

  Sagging onto his seat, he stared out at the midnight blue water, the color matching his spirits. I feel old and useless, I have weeks left to live if I’m lucky, and I’m falling in love with a man. Fuck my life.

  Someone touched his shoulder. He turned and saw Nick peering at him. “You okay?” the doctor asked.

  He shrugged. “As okay as I’ll ever be.”

  “Want a beer?”

  Drowning his sorrows in hops sounded like a good idea. “Please.”

  Nick reached back and fished a damp brown bottle out of the cooler. “It’s from a local microbrewery,” he said, twisting off the cap and handing over the bottle. “I know the Brits tend to think American beer is diabetic cat piss, but this stuff is pretty good.”

  “Cheers.” Griffin took an experimental sip, then a deeper one as the cool, rich tang rolled over his tongue. “Not bad for colonials.”

  “Thank you,” Nick said, grinning. “Pity about your empire.”

  “Oh, fuck you.” He took another swig, spotting an array of lights in the distance. “I think we’re almost there.”

  Nick twisted in his seat. “Yeah, looks like Olympic Beach. Dunn, where are we parking?”

  “You mean anchoring?” the amused reply came back. “I’m supposed to follow Ian, but I believe we’ll be just south of the marina.”

  “Cool.” Straightening, the doctor suddenly looked embarrassed. “We may be swimming back and forth between the boats. If you want to go in, I’d strongly recommend you keep on your life jacket. I know it’s embarrassing, but—”

  Griffin waved it off as the boat pulled closer to the lights. “Don’t worry about me. I’m going to stay here and drink my beer like a good boy.”

  And think about what I can’t have.

  ****

  Hyacinth accepted Ian’s hand and climbed gracefully onto the boat. One of the useful things about being a Nereid, she mused, was the ability to walk on water. Of course, she could only do it at night in order to stop reports of a certain religious figure’s second coming, but she considered it a small price to pay.

  “Hello, boys,” she said, distributing kisses to all the boat’s passengers before unslinging the bulging messenger bag from her shoulder. “I hope
you all kept some room for dessert. I brought a lot of cookies.”

  Both Ian and Aidan perked up at the mention of cookies. “Do they have walnuts in them?” Ian asked.

  “Of course.”

  “Score,” the storm god moaned.

  “Here, my lady, take my seat,” Aidan said, standing and offering the bow seat.

  “Thank you, tadpole,” she said with a smile, settling onto the bench. “What time do the fireworks start?”

  “Nine-thirty,” Ian said, peering at the last hint of daylight showing over the landward horizon. “We still have another half hour or so.”

  Hyacinth accepted a glass of white wine from Bythos and sipped. “Mm, very nice,” she said. “So how have you all been?”

  Ian took his own seat in the stern. “We’re fine. Things have gotten a bit quiet, though, which is worrying me.”

  “I don’t blame you.” Hyacinth glanced at the dark water lapping against the side of the boat. “I haven’t heard anything from Thetis, but I suspect that she’s regrouping after the drubbing she received from you and your mates,” she said, nodding at Aidan.

  The mer shrugged. “We had a lot of help, my lady. And we still wouldn’t have won if it hadn’t been for the Lady Claire.”

  Hyacinth bowed her head at the mention of the sea goddess who had sacrificed her life force to defeat Thetis’s plans. The new coral reef that was spreading a few miles from their location was a testament to Claire’s bravery. “Yes, I think that hit Thetis particularly hard. But I suspect it won’t stop her for very long.”

  “My tritons have stepped up their sweeps for ilkothelloi,” Aphros said. “Apart from the one that attacked Father, we haven’t seen any since Thetis’s defeat.”

  Hyacinth’s attention pricked. “Your father was attacked by an ilkothella?”

  “Yes. He’d been out sailing with a mortal, and the creature attacked while they were moored at one of the barrier islands.”

  She glared across the water at the other nearby sailboat. Even at a distance Poseidon’s presence radiated like a lighthouse to anyone who could sense it. “So he’s screwing around again?” she asked. “I can’t say I’m surprised.”