Undertow

by J. M. Snyder

  Another wave hit, this time cresting over the boat’s bow and drenching all four friends. Derek sputtered, the sea stinging his eyes, filling his mouth; he felt his breath torn from him as if this small amount of briny water was enough to drown him. Without his talisman, the sea water was anathema to him—even being in a boat on the water tempted fate, but the risk was worth the moment shared with his lover. Though Derek had left the ocean behind, Tad still loved the sea.

  Tad.

  When he’d wiped the water from his eyes, Derek turned to find an empty space beside him where his lover had once stood. A wild glance around the boat showed his two friends. Tad was gone.

  “Tad!” Derek cried out, voice already sharp with hysteria. Behind the boat, white foam trailed in their wake, roiling over rough waves. Somewhere, out there… “TAD!”

  * * * *

  The name still echoed in Derek’s memory, four months later. As he stared across the table into Kellen’s unfathomable eyes, he drew in a shuddery breath and tried to get a grip on himself. But everything inside him felt as tumultuous as that storm-tossed sea in which he’d lost his lover. Half-remembered snatches of silvery song filled his head—his mother’s melodious voice, singing him to sleep with stories the elders told, nostalgic tales of merrows who used to haunt the inlets and ragged cliffs, watching for the shipwrecks which brought with them caskets of rum and drowned men.

  Those were the days, his mam used to reminisce, when humans still braved the waters, before they took to the air. Merrows were fond of alcohol—Kellen’s shot after shot of the nasty Undertow gave proof of that—and Derek wasn’t the only one among his people to favor the warm bodies or soft skin of those who walked the land. Many a merrow maiden had rescued a drowning man and kept him locked beneath the waves, caging his soul and trapping him like some sort of pet.

  I once felt that way about Tad.

  The thought came on its own, unbidden, and Derek shook his head as if to shake it away. Yes, he’d thought that way at first, but the longer he lived among men, the more his feelings mirrored their own, until the possessive nature of the merrow he’d been dropped away and the lust he felt for Tad had turned to love. He loved that man, still did. Tad had changed him into someone worthy of such an emotion, of giving it, receiving it.

  Then the sea had stolen Tad from him, and taken with him any power Derek might’ve had to return to the water and find his lover.

  But Kellen’s words caught in Derek’s mind like a sharp hook, pulling at his thoughts, tearing open wounds he believed just beginning to heal. “Wait.”

  The familiar eagerness in Kellen’s eyes made Derek more nervous than he cared to admit. When that piercing gaze turned his way, he became all too aware of the fact he’d been alone and lonely for so damn long. Yes, it was Kellen across from him, but his body responded at the open interest in his old friend’s gaze in a way Derek’s mind refused to accept.

  “The Coast Guard went out in that storm,” Derek said, trying to keep the conversation under his control. “They dredged the sea for miles along the shore. They never found Tad’s body.”

  Kellen licked his thin lips as he stared at Derek’s own. “No, they wouldn’t have, would they?”

  Derek dared not hope Tad might be…that he was… “What do you mean?”

  He spoke so low, the words were little more than shapes formed by his mouth, but Kellen heard them anyway. The smile that crossed his face didn’t quite reach his eyes. “You know the stories, Dere. They aren’t just fairy tales or children’s songs.”

  “What,” Derek snickered, “you’re saying these soul cages are real?”

  Kellen met Derek’s gaze, then sort of shrugged, a gesture that spoke louder than his silence.

  Disbelief and anger warred in Derek—as much as he wanted Tad back, he was afraid this whole meeting might be nothing but some sick joke, a way for Kellen to get back at him for leaving the pod, leaving him, all those years ago. “Why should I believe you?” he challenged. “Soul cages are nothing but a mythical part of our—of your people’s past. A fairy tale told to an imaginary race. Tad is dead.”

  The words fell like stones between them, each one sinking into the pit of Derek’s stomach, dragging him down, making him sick. He’d never said them out loud and now that they were free, he regretted them.

  Amusement flashed in Kellen’s sea-green eyes and Derek’s hand clenched into an unconscious fist he barely managed to keep to himself. “Am I imaginary to you?” Kellen wanted to know.

  Beneath the table, his foot nudged Derek’s, then raised between Derek’s legs, rubbing up his calf, over his knee. Before it reached his thigh, Derek turned, closing his legs and knocking away Kellen’s touch. Cool fingers glanced over his fist; he pulled it out of reach. “Stop it,” he spat, hating the tremor he heard in his own voice. Below his belt, his pants felt too tight, constricting, and he couldn’t seem to draw a steady breath. “Just stop it, right now, Kellen, I’m serious. I’m not interested—”

  “Really?” Kellen cocked an eyebrow and grinned. “Or are you just saying that in the hopes of believing it?”

  “Tad,” Derek choked. They were talking about Tad here, he had to get through the pain and the loss and listen to what Kellen was trying to tell him, he had to focus… “You said he was alive? Why hasn’t he come back to me? Why would he go to you—”

  Kellen sighed, cutting off Derek’s questions. “He’s not dead,” he assured Derek; this time when he reached out, Derek wasn’t so quick to pull away, and he let Kellen’s fingers curl over his. The touch was a balm that covered his pain, soothed his heart. “Not the way you think. Yes, he fell off the boat. There were merrows in the water—you didn’t see them, I know, but we were there. I was there. Watching you.”

  Gently he began to massage Derek’s hand, working his fingers into the tight fist. “Why?” Then Derek waved the question away—it didn’t matter. More important… “What happened? Where is he?”

  Kellen’s enigmatic smile widened. “Merla took a liking to him. She had me—”

  “Merla?” Derek seized the name; he’d never heard it before. “Who’s that?”

  “My mate.”

  The words stunned Derek into silence. “It’s been ten years,” Kellen pointed out. “Don’t tell me you thought I’d just pine away for you all that time.”

  Quickly he shook his head. “No, of course not.” But the idea of Kellen with a female, merrow or human, seemed laughable at best. Derek still recalled the hot breath along his skin, pledging a love he himself did not feel. Forcing a laugh, he added, “Ten years, hey. A lot can happen. People change.”

  Kellen leaned forward, an earnest look on his face. “Not as much as you think,” he whispered. Derek had to lean over the table to hear him, and the hand covering his pulled him closer still. “I never forgot you, Dere. Merla may have borne my children, but not a day goes by when I don’t think of you.”

  Derek watched Kellen raise his hand to his mouth as if it belonged to someone else. He barely felt the cool lips press against his knuckles, or the damp tongue that licked out to taste his skin. Softly, Kellen admitted, “In fact, that’s why I’m here.”

  “Tad,” Derek replied, speaking in the same low tone. He tried to pull back his hand but couldn’t. “What did she do to him?”

  “Merla?” Kellen laughed. Closing his eyes, he rubbed his cheek over Derek’s knuckles, a faint sigh escaping him. “She said he was a pretty thing, with his wide eyes and his wild hair. Thrashing about in the water, struggling to break the surface. Let’s keep him, she said. I want him. He’s mine now.”

  Derek tugged on his hand, harder, but Kellen wouldn’t release his grip. “No,” he said, sharper than he intended. “No, she’s wrong. He’s mine.”

  Those pale eyes opened and stared at Derek, unblinking, bemused. “You let him go.”

  “No.” The argument seemed unreal, no. Wresting his hand free from Kellen’s, Derek tucked it under the table, out of reach, and wiped it down t
he leg of his jeans. “This is stupid. I want him back. I need him. I—”

  Kellen raised an eyebrow, the smile playing around his mouth almost taunting Derek to finish the thought. I love him. Tamping that down, Derek sighed, “Please.”

  For a long moment, he didn’t think Kellen would reply. He’d beg if he had to, but Derek hoped maybe some spark of whatever they’d had together all those years ago might be enough to win the merrow over. Please…

  Then Kellen’s mouth twitched and his smile faded. “He has very soft skin,” he whispered.

  Derek jerked back as if slapped. “What—”

  “A luscious mouth,” Kellen continued, a hint of mirth shining in his eyes. “Tender lips. When I gave him the kiss of breath, he clung to me, don’t you know? Hands grasping at my arms, my chest. He gave into me oh, so easily.”

  “No.” Derek shook his head—he didn’t want to hear this.

  “Sorry,” Kellen said, sounding anything but. “Had to do it. Covered his mouth with mine so he wouldn’t drown. Held him to me as we swam back to the pod. Cradled in my arms, like this.” Leaning back in the booth, he curved one arm in front of his waist, the other against his chest, as if soothing a crying baby. “He held onto me the whole way. So tightly.”

  Derek didn’t want to hear any more. “No. Stop.”

  With a chuckle, Kellen admitted, “Turned me on, let me tell you. A strong male body like that, against my own, after all this time? I tucked him into Merla’s soul cage and had to jerk off among the reeds, I was so hard. Thought of you while I did it, you holding him, kissing him, fucking him.”

  “Shut up.” Derek slammed a hand on the table, and empty shot glasses scattered out of his way. A few fell to the floor with a tinkling of glass. “Kellen, I swear, if you even so much as copped a feel—”

  “Oh, please.” Something wicked flashed in his eyes, and he stared at Derek, pinning him in place. “He’s not what I’m interested in. What I came for—what I want—is you.”

  Chapter 4

  Kellen made his offer plain enough. “You give yourself to me, one last time,” he told Derek, his voice intimate and low. Around them the noise of the crowd crashed like waves on the shore, just so much senseless sound that threatened to wash Derek away. Kellen’s eyes had turned cold, calculating—he knew what he wanted, and he knew how to get it. “And I want every part of you, every touch, every kiss, every moan, I want it all. No lying there as I fuck you. No waiting it out. This time I want you making love to me, Dere, the way you do to him. Got that? Out there on the beach, just like old times, right where you first met him and ripped my goddamned heart to shreds.”

  Derek thought back to that first magical moment between himself and Tad, when the rest of the world had seemed to dissolve beneath their sudden desire. He remembered a feeling almost painful, it was that intense, of staring into eyes that saw through the waves, through to his very soul. Like a fish snagged on a hook, he’d found himself reeled into land, captured by Tad.

  He recalled the way his scales had soughed from his body, falling like rain to the sea as he emerged on dry land. But had he felt something else, in the water that swirled over his fins, something almost insubstantial, grasping at his ankles like strands of kelp floating in the tide? A hand reaching for him, even as he left the ocean behind? Had the electricity of the storm, the lightning in Tad’s eyes, had the fire between them burned so bright because on some unconscious level, Derek knew they were being watched?

  If he’d turned back to the sea, all those years ago, would he have seen Kellen’s unblinking gaze staring at him through the breakers? “You saw.”

  Kellen’s face was an unreadable mask. “I want you to love me like that. No holding back. Give me something to think of when I masturbate, something to warm me on cold nights when I sleep with my mate. Something you should’ve given me from the start, something I’ve wanted from you for too damn long.”

  Disgust filled Derek at the thought of touching Kellen again. On the shore, half in the water, the jaundiced skin covered with a merrow’s scales? Not to mention the kiss of salt water on his own body would be anathema without his talisman. “No,” he said, a little louder than necessary. He shook his head for emphasis. “Your heart isn’t some mindless organ that gets hard at the slightest touch.”

  “Don’t you want him back?” Kellen asked.

  The corner of his mouth turned up in a self-satisfied smirk Derek wanted to punch from his face. “God,” he sighed, incredulous at Kellen’s gall. “I can’t believe I’m sitting here discussing this with you. Of course I want him back, you bastard. I want him so badly, I can barely breathe whenever I think about him.” He shook his head, adamant. “But I can’t do it.”

  Kellen wouldn’t let up. “Not even to save his life? He doesn’t have to know.”

  “I’d know,” Derek pointed out. “I love Tad. Doesn’t that mean anything to you?”

  Kellen’s disinterested shrug was answer enough. Sliding to the edge of the booth, Derek dug out his wallet and threw a few dollars down on the table to cover his drinks. “I’m not the same little guppy you used to bully around, Kell,” he said, trying to sound stronger than he felt. His hands trembled and he knew he walked a fine line here, between offending his old friend and drawing on whatever sense of decency he might have, but Derek wouldn’t be pushed around. Not by him. “So what, we fuck and then you slip into the sea for good? How can I trust you to bring Tad back to me? How can I trust you not to just disappear?”

  “You’ll follow me,” Kellen explained. His hand reached for Derek’s but missed and fisted around the dollars in front of him instead. “When we’re done, I’ll lead you to where he’s kept. I’ll distract Merla and you both go free. Simple as that.”

  Absently, his fingers strayed to touch the feather in the brim of his hat. Derek’s gaze followed, and he resisted the urge to laugh. Kellen must not have seen the cord around Tad’s neck, nor recognized the red shell that hung there. Derek didn’t know whether or not to mention his only means of returning to the water had drowned with his lover. He could almost imagine Kellen’s smile widening as he promised he’d release Tad anyway.

  But would he keep his word? Or would he open the soul cage at the bottom of the sea, let the briny current rush into Tad’s prison, and watch as the water finally claimed the man Derek thought it’d already taken? How long would Derek sit on the beach, naked, hugging his knees to his chest and hating himself for giving into Kellen’s demands as he waited in vain for Tad to return?

  Or hell, maybe Kellen would just hold onto Tad anyway, Derek be damned? Then show up in another month’s time with another itch to scratch, promising the same thing. Fuck me, and he goes free. How many times would Derek fall for that? How could he not, if there was even the slightest glimmer of hope that maybe the next coupling would be the one to bring Tad back?

  And why was he even considering Kellen’s offer? “No. There has to be some other way.”

  Kellen sat back against the booth, arms stretched wide as if to show he’d laid his cards on the table. “I’ve told you what I want,” he said. The look on his face told Derek his proposal was non-negotiable. “The question is, do you want him enough to agree to my terms?”

  Indignation welled within Derek—he felt used, cornered, and he wished he’d never come to the Den in the first place. Believing Tad to be dead had been horrible, but knowing he was alive and that there was only one way to get him back was almost unbearable. “Fuck you,” he spat.

  A slow smile spread across Kellen’s face. “That’s all I’m angling for here.”

  Derek stood up so fast, he struck the table with his hip and sharp pain flared down his leg. It added insult to injury, and he shoved the table hard enough to tumble over the empty glasses in front of Kellen. “I have to think about this,” he said, mind awhirl.

  Have to think about how to get out of this, he should’ve said, but at that moment he just needed to get out. Go home, nurse his wounds, think of Tad. L
et his lover’s memory convince him what he had to do was right. Tucking his wallet into his jeans, he glanced around the crowded bar and refused to look at Kellen any longer. “How can I get back in touch with you? Give me a number, or something…”

  Kellen’s hand closed around Derek’s wrist in a grip so tight, his fingers went numb. “Not so fast, sexy.”

  Derek tried to pull away from Kellen but only succeeded in pulling the merrow to his feet. Closing the distance between them, Kellen leaned in close to Derek, who shrank away. The last thing he wanted was to feel those thin, cold lips on his.

  But Kellen gave him a disarming grin. “I know you too well,” he whispered, voice carrying over the crowd with ease. “You’ll leave here and head for the water yourself, try to find him without my help. No dice.”

  Searching those pale eyes, Derek tried to explain, “I…I don’t have my talisman with me.” Kellen let out a bark of a laugh. “No, honest, listen. I gave it to Tad on our last anniversary. He gave me a ring, that’s the custom among humans, and I gave him my talisman as a…I don’t know, a promise I’d be with him forever.”

  Kellen laughed again, and there was a mean edge to the sound. “Some promise,” he teased. Then, holding up the hand he held onto, he looked at Derek’s empty fingers and asked, “Where’s the ring?”

  “At home.” Each word hurt to speak—it was one thing to think of these things alone, in the dark quiet of night, when he lay among his memories and ached for his lover’s touch. It seemed so surreal to be standing here in a bar with Kellen, sharing these feelings with little or no regard for how they affected him.

  Again he tried to wrest free from Kellen, but the older man was much stronger than he, and Derek’s body was tired, his mind defeated. “Kellen, believe me. I took the ring off because I couldn’t…” He sighed. “I just couldn’t bear to look at it any more after I lost him. There—you happy?”