by S. K Munt
That thought cheered Lincoln somewhat. ‘So long as that doesn’t automatically mean a proportionate length of waiting.’
Ivyanne laughed. ‘I think we’ve already almost hit our limit on that one.’ She climbed the three steps to her door, then turned around on the front step, her fingers still woven through his. ‘Well…..’
Lincoln moved onto the second step. ‘Well…..’
Ivyanne blushed and ducked her head before peeking up at him through her curtain of fluffy, windblown hair. Her nervous smile was the most beautiful expression he’d ever seen. ‘Here we go again.’
‘Here goes what again?’
‘Me,’ Ivyanne said softly, ‘wondering if you’ll kiss me, and wondering how I’ll react if you do.’
Lincoln smiled and stepped up so that his feet were level with hers, trembling like a leaf in the wind. ‘Why are you wondering at all?’ he asked huskily, pulling her closer by the front of her shorts. ‘You knew what I was thinking while we were watching that movie. If you weren’t going to let me kiss you, you wouldn’t have let me walk you back here alone.’
Ivyanne’s hands gripped his forearms lightly, pulling him in. ‘You know me better than I know myself.’
Lincoln took that as another green flag and wasted no time in acting on it-he pressed his lips to hers, knowing this wasn’t a dream and that Ivyanne wasn’t about to disappear. She tasted sweet, like icing and champagne, and he wanted to devour her the moment her lips parted for his. He wrapped his arms around her shoulders and squeezed her supple body against his, pushing her up against the door, not wanting there to be a fraction of space between them.
Ivyanne’s fingers tangled in the sides of his shirt, pulling him against her, gasping when his tongue explored her mouth more deeply, one of her legs wrapping around one of his, locking their hips together. That small movement caused Lincoln to see stars.
‘Don’t,’ he grunted, roughly freeing his leg. ‘Dear god Ivyanne...don’t make me want more if you’re not going to follow through...oh god.’
Ivyanne whimpered and forced his lips back to hers with one firm hand on the back of his head. When he complied, she squirmed against him, as though she was climbing a rock wall and desperately looking for something to get a hand hold on. He felt her hand leave his hair and pull on the collar of his shirt as the other slid under the back of his shirt and caressed his lower back. Her touch was heavenly, and her frustration, her need, fueled his own.
But he resisted the urge to strip her right then and there, his mouth demanding focus as he slowed his pace. He could practically feel her heart fluttering against his chest, and when his body began to respond in a way that couldn’t be ignored, Lincoln broke free.
‘My self control ends here,’ he said lightly, freeing himself of her grasp.
Ivyanne’s eyes fluttered open. ‘That was-’ she shook herself off slightly and straightened. ‘Amazing.’
Lincoln couldn’t hold back the grin. ‘Really? It was just a kiss.’
Ivyanne bit her lip, but her own smile shone through. ‘Well you’re an amazing kisser.’ She tucked her hair behind her ear. ‘You always have been….I’d almost forgotten how addictive you are. Almost. It’s coming back to me now….’
Lincoln was pretty sure that was the most meaningful compliment he’d ever received. ‘What is?’
Ivyanne blushed. ‘Why I’m afraid to let you kiss me. Because I know that once I start, I’ll never want to stop.’
Lincoln felt like he was floating. ‘I’ll be back tomorrow,’ he said softly. ‘It’s my day off. If we could hang out...alone, for once…’
Ivyanne nodded slowly. ‘I’d like that.’
Lincoln smiled and blew her a kiss. Finally, things were back on track.
⁓
It took Tristan five days to get to the Cook Islands from Caroline Atoll, stopping at Flint Island halfway through for lunch before continuing on. In the Cook Islands, he’d stayed at Rarotonga, and although it was the most populated of the Islands, he knew that there were a few abandoned premises that would offer shelter from the rain, which had been lingering around sine Wednesday afternoon. An entire Hilton resort had been abandoned there back in 2008 so he made that his camp.
He squatted in the cleanest bungalow he could find, cowering in the corner so the leak in the centre of the ceiling didn’t touch him. He’d caught fish before heading in, and made a small fire in the doorway between the en-suite and the main room-the only place in the room besides his corner which wasn’t covered in mould or grime. He could tell from the scorch marks on the floor that he hadn’t been the first homeless person to do it either. He was cold and malnourished, had a stinging wound on his arm from a jellyfish he’d swum into, and was completely exhausted. He was also so tired that he could barely think.
If he could get to a telephone and ring his sister, she’d arrange for someone nearby to help him-and yet Tristan couldn’t make himself do that. Besides-what choice other than swimming home did he have that didn’t involve boarding another plane? Tristan considered himself to be brave-but no way was he ready to be at the mercy of altitude again any time soon.
Tristan rubbed his hands up and down his legs to warm himself. If Ardhi was a shape-shifter with the ability to change humans, as well as a mystic capable of messing with the weather to a large enough degree that would shake a plane out of the sky, Tristan knew that a phone-call warning wouldn’t suffice anyway. No other mermaid had been that powerful-not since Anna. The element of surprise was the only thing Tristan had going for him.
Tristan pressed his hands into his brain, willing himself to come up with the solution. It would take him at least five more days to get back to Seaview, and he had to have a plan before then. But what? A helpless tear rolled down his cheek. He’d always thought he was as tough as men went, but his ego was taking hit after hit. The fact that Ardhi had stabbed him, fooled him then almost killed him again, and now had him squatting and starving, naked in a ruin, was more painful for him than the gash in his skull. When he included the fact that he’d ended up tied if not coming second in the race to Ivyanne’s heart, it was all Tristan could do to not take his own life. Fail after fail after fail….how much could one man bear?
Tristan took in a shaking breath, commanding himself to get a grip. He needed to get to somewhere where he could have a shower, rest and recoup-preferably clothed-for a few days to sort his mind out. Somewhere with internet access and a phone.
There was one option-Adele Knightley had been on Norfolk. Was that Ardhi’s base? Could he still be there? It seemed possible. After all, without Tristan’s dead body to bury, Ardhi was probably exercising some caution. If he hadn’t gone north yet, there was a good chance Tristan could intercept him before he wiped Lincoln off the face of the planet too.
And if Ardhi wasn’t there….then at least Tristan would know there was a vacant house he could squat in without fear of discovery while he thought of a plan B.
⁓
When Lincoln walked into the Barefoot bar, he was surprised to see that it was practically deserted. In fact, the only customer was Bobbitt, the persistent yet harmless barfly who’d been coming to the Seaview for over twenty years, way back when Link had been just a pre-pubescent guest, and the owners had been an elderly Tahitian married couple.
‘Cold season’s going to kick off soon.’ Bobbitt said, lifting his half-empty glass in greeting. ‘Wouldn’t know it by looking at you though. Nice to see a smile on yer dial for a change.’
‘It is?’ Lincoln asked, slipping behind the bar and automatically moving to pull Bobbitt a fresh beer.
‘It is. You lot have been dragging yourselves around looking like someone kicked your puppies for a good month now. Maybe longer.’
‘Well I apologize for that.’ Lincoln said. ‘You know about the uh, plane crash, right?’
Bobbitt nodded, his eyes somber and indicated to Lincoln to take the money for the beer from the change from the golden and red bar runner before him.
‘Awful thing, that.’
‘Yes well he was friends with some of my employees. So they’re taking it hard.’
‘Not surprised. Nice guy too.’
‘You met Tristan?’ Lincoln repeated, surprised. As a guest, Tristan had basically holed himself up in his room, tapping away at his shiny white computer like he was trying to hack into the ATO before crunch season.
‘Yeah, down on the beach. I was swinging a few balls and I’ll be damned but he shouted me a circuit on your fancy course here. We made an afternoon of it. He even gave me some advice for where to stash the rest of my super.’
‘That sounds nice.’ Lincoln swallowed uncomfortably. It was so hard to form an opinion on Tristan Loveridge which didn’t contrast with the opinion before it.
‘Yeah he was. Good bloke. Must have been lonely, though, to spend a whole afternoon with an old timer like me.’
Lincoln had never thought of Tristan as lonely, but perhaps that was the case. His brother was dead, his parents lived in France and his sister and family in Hawaii. He worked with Steve (Sven) who Lincoln had met briefly, and yet Tristan had never mentioned having a social life which breached the boundaries of charity functions and meetings. His perfect glossy life suddenly seemed kind of solitary and sad.
Lincoln didn’t want to talk about Tristan anymore. He was getting that icky feeling in the pit of his stomach again, like he’d taken the happy ending from someone who’d needed it more. ‘Where’s Sherri?’ He asked.
‘The little Kiwi?’ Bobbitt nodded towards the kitchen. ‘I think she went that way just before you walked in. She didn’t look too happy. Ask her if it was something I said. It almost always is.’
Lincoln chuckled, put Bobbitt’s change in the till and then hurried towards the corridor. ‘Keep an eye on the place, kay?’
‘Aye, aye, Link. If you run into your ’ol man in your travels, tell him to come have a beer with me.’
‘Will do.’ Lincoln hurried into the function room, inhaling the smell of fresh paint with a satisfied smile. It was looking incredible-all creams and golds swirling like the underside of waves across the walls, edged with metallic wisps of turquoise reminding him of Ivyanne’s hair and tail as they blurred in motion. The tables were draped with gold linens, and large, floating Chinese lanterns descended from the high rafted ceilings, muted turquoise and gold in the dim light, alternating in length and moving in the draft swirling in under the thatched roofing. The wood of the empty bar was freshly polished and gleaming just like the re-glossed slate floors.
He grinned, looking around for the hundredth time that week. Seeing the room restored to more than its former glory renewed his love for the resort-and made him itch to overhaul the whole place, like he’d overhauled himself. Lydia was an artist, and he’d already taken eleven bookings for the following month. He couldn’t wait to tell her he was doubling her fee-and hopefully-that acknowledgement of her talent would renew her.
But thoughts of renovations abandoned him when he spotted Sherri slumped near a buffet table, blowing her nose into a tissue and looking more delicate than usual.
‘Sherri? Are you okay?’
The girl turned around, her eyes red, her cheeks flushed and her features forlorn. ‘Oh, Link hey. Sorry. I was just taking a time-out.’
‘What’s the matter?’ He was concerned but wary as he approached her.
Sherri waved her hand. ‘Oh it’s stupid. Bobbitt, well he called me Scrappy Do….’
Lincoln raised an eyebrow. ‘I’ve been called worse.’
‘Yeah I know. It’s just that...well my dad calls me that.’
‘Oh.’ Lincoln rounded the table. ‘Are you homesick?’
But Sherri turned her face away. When she spoke, her voice was brittle : ‘My dad is dead, Link. Eight months now.’
Lincoln’s heart sank. ‘Oh! Oh wow. Sherri I didn’t have a clue. I’m so sorry!’
‘You weren’t to know. I avoid thinking about it when I can, and never talk about it.’ She sniffled. ‘It was just so unexpected, and the timing was rotten.’
Lincoln slid onto the floor beside her. ‘Can I ask what happened?’
Sherri hung her head. ‘He got a new girlfriend.’
‘Wait, where’s your mum?’
But Sherri pursed her lips. ‘Ran off on us when I was eight. It was always just dad and I, running the farm together. We were a great team.’ She dropped her eyes. ‘And then Candy came along. Candy, can you believe it? Anyway the farm wasn’t making enough money for her liking. She pushed dad to become a truck driver. We sold our land but kept the house. Then Candy didn’t want me around anymore so-well I joined Greenpeace because there was nowhere in my area to rent and I’d always loved the ocean. I went off for the year and when I came back, they were getting married. I picked up some shifts at the old tavern, just to make some cash while I stayed for the wedding, but one night the coppers came to the bar to tell me….dad had been in an accident.’ Her face crumpled. ‘He had flipped his rig and died instantly.’
Lincoln’s heart went to the girl, who was now sobbing. He encircled his arms around her while she cried fat, wet tears into his shirt.
‘I’m so sorry, Sherri.’ Lincoln lamented. ‘My mum died a few years ago too. I know what it’s like.’
‘But I’ll bet you two were at least getting along.’ Sherri blew her nose again. ‘Candy totally had dad around her finger. And to make things worse, they’d lived together for so long that she inherited half of everything! Life insurance, the house...now we fight almost on a daily basis about what to do with the old place. She’s determined to sell, and I can’t stop her. I went back about three weeks ago to beg her to just let me have it but she said no. Which is why I’m back in Australia. I can’t stand being somewhere with so many memories that are just being torn apart by that woman.’
‘I can imagine.’ Lincoln sighed. ‘I really don’t know what to say.’
‘You don’t have to say anything.’ She looked deeply into Lincoln’s eyes. ‘I’m sorry for what I almost went along with the other night. That wasn’t me, and I could tell it wasn’t you.’ She sniffled. ‘I thought that it might be good for both of us to be a little wild, like that Lux woman, and have a little fun. But the next day, I felt like hell, and I was furious with that Pintang and Ivyanne for ripping you to shreds over something you were a victim of, not the aggressor.’ She let out a long, shuddering sigh. ‘I crossed a line by interfering, but I was only trying to defend you Link. Yet I only made it worse and now Pintang won’t even look at me.’ She wiped at her eyes. ‘I should just go. Maybe Ivyanne will be more comfortable coming into the bar, if I’m not around to remind her of that awful day....’
‘Sherri no’ Lincoln was horrified by her guilt, and his heart ached for her and all she had been through. If anyone knew what it was like to lose a parents at a mature age, it was him. ‘Ivyanne will get over it, and as for everyone else here, you’d be surprised at how understanding they can be of, well, people being human.’ He smiled wryly at his own private joke. ‘You’re a fantastic worker and a beautiful girl, and the customers love you-so you’re not going anywhere. If a fresh start is what you want, then consider it done.’
Sherri peeked up between her fingers, a spark of hope in her tearful hazel-grey eyes. ‘Really?’
‘Really. Besides, regardless of her threats last week, Ivyanne isn’t the hostile sort. She’s already talking to Lux again, and I know she’ll get over what happened with you.’ He sighed ‘I can see how you’re taking the tension around here so personally, but you just came here at a time when we were all paranoid and grumpy. But it’s getting better now.’
Sherri wiped at her eyes. ‘Do you think I should apologize to your girlfriend?’
Girlfriend. The word put a smile on Lincoln’s face. It hadn’t occurred to him yet that Ivyanne would be using similar terminology soon enough. But the problem was, the term was too casual, for what she was to him. ‘No.’ He said gently. ‘Well, I don’t think so. That
’s chick business and no business of mine how you handle it. But I’ll put in a good word for you anyway.’
‘Where is she anyway? I thought she would have come back by now, at least to visit you.’
‘No...she’s not ready to be out in the world yet Sher, she’s pretty fragile still over the accident, so I’ve been going to her. Her mum’s let her a place down on the esplanade.’ Lincoln paused. ‘A Besser block with a door, basically, but fancy, and she likes it. Now she can get some peace.’
‘Peace from what?’
‘Oh you know….mourning relatives, all that.’ He smiled at her, trying to disguise his near faux-pas of offering up too much information about the mers. ‘I’ll pass your apologies along.’
‘Oh Link thanks so much!’ Sherri engulfed him in a fierce hug.
‘No problem.’ He extricated himself from her grip, still cautious of being too close to her. ‘Anyway, Bobbit’s probably due for another beer…’
‘I got it!’
Lincoln watched her take off with a skip in her step, and grinned. It felt good to be on the giving side of advice and forgiveness for once, instead of receiving.
14.
Tristan had never been so off his game in his life. He’d almost smashed into the side of two boats when he’d arrived in the southernmost bay of Norfolk Island, and then had been forced to streak naked across the beach in full view of a Japanese family who had been enjoying a picnic breakfast on the sand because he hadn’t seen them in time.
Luckily, he’d stumbled across some discarded clothes draped on the back of a bicycle in the third picnic area he’d found. The bike had been fitted out with an empty surfboard rack, so he’d known instantly that the owner was surfing somewhere nearby, meaning he was probably near Slaughter Bay. It was good to have his bearings, but unfortunately, it also meant that he was in a densely populated area.
Tristan made his way down the road as stealthily as he could, knowing that his kind was everywhere on Norfolk, and that he had to get his act together. He’d found a phone book at a vandalized booth, and had actually laughed out loud when he found the surname Kayu-Api and the listing address straight away. Their holiday home was in Cascade Bay, which was clear on the other side of the island from where he was, but that was okay-it just meant that he had less of a distance to swim home when he was done killing Ardhi.