Everlost (Mer Tales, Book 3)

by Brenda Pandos

  They menacingly circled, mocking her, closing in with each pass. One knocked against the metal door with its tail to her right, rattling the lock, while the other approached, grazing her tail on the left. She met the oncoming intruder with a fierce jab to its leathery underbelly, barely puncturing its skin. It flicked its tail and headed upward, circling around for another pass.

  With the trident firmly in her hands, she attempted more humor. “I’m vegan. I don’t taste good.”

  She inched slowly to the door and twitched her tail sideways. Once she had the lock within her grasp, she blew out a relieved breath and shook it. The button, rusted solid, wouldn’t depress.

  “For the love of the Kraken!” Her heart rate spiked.

  Suddenly, a whole mouth of jagged razors flashed out of nowhere. She squealed and ducked; her hands blindly jabbed the trident forward. She pressed her eyes shut and flared her fin into a fighting position. A thick cloud of bloody water clung to her gills and Tatiana coughed. She held onto the trident, jerked back and forth in the current like a bucking bronco, when the pole yanked free from her hands. A tail roughly shoved her into the spires one way, then something smacked her hard on her waist from the other. She shielded her head with her hands, waiting for the pain that didn’t come.

  Tatiana finally opened her eyes. Through the red fog, the shark reared back, flipping and twisting with the trident stuck out of its snapping jaws. And just like Jacob had said, the others zeroed in and began to savagely rip apart their fallen comrade in a rolling red ball of froth and fins.

  Tatiana grabbed onto the door, her hands shaking. The lock magically clicked open, freeing the doors, then fell into the dark depths below with one final shimmer.

  She blinked, stunned, then opened the doors and swam through. Behind her, a shark’s tail smashed into the door, swinging it wide. She quickly grabbed the rough metal and slammed it back into place, holding it shut. Without the lock, she had no way to secure the doors. Again, grey bloodied bodies hit the metal, rubbing her palms raw. She needed something to secure the door shut, but what?

  The tie on her cape caught her eye. She yanked one side free and wrapped the twine where the lock had been, making a Trucker’s Hitch knot, like her father had taught her on the boat, but one thrash of the sharks tail broke the twine free.

  Tatiana yelped, sculling back in the water. A shark, angry and hungry, came at her, teeth bared.

  Her siren scream was about to leap off her tongue when a shriek like never before tore through the water. She held her ears, the noise drilling in her skull. And like cockroaches, the sharks scurried through the Pacific gate and disappeared.

  Tatiana looked off to the compound for the source, unable to see through all the blood. As far as she could tell, no one appeared to be coming.

  24

  : : :

  Parasites

  Jacob took one final look at Tatiana before sealing the hole. He ached inside, his chest heaving with an adrenaline rush. Please don’t let this be the last time I see her alive. Stuck between a rock and a hard place, he had no choice. He’d never forgive himself if something happened to her—but in here, especially with the Dradux lurking, she’d surely die or at least she’d wish she were dead with what they might do to her first.

  He pushed aside the cabinet to free the door and pulled a knife from his utility belt. Readying his stance, he waited for the Dradux to break into the room at any moment. Within seconds, the door flew open.

  “Where is she?” Darrellon growled.

  “Who?” Jacob gave him a half-shrug.

  “Don’t mess with me.” Cassava poison clung to Darrellon’s scythe. He flashed his yellow teeth and waggled his parasitic tongue. “I’ll take you down first and then find her hiding place.”

  Jacob grimaced at the parasite and readied himself for the attack. He’d known the Dradux regularly practiced stinging one another to build immunity to the poison. Darrellon might be immune to his poisonous barbs, but he’d carve up as much of his flesh as he could on his way down.

  “Be my guest,” Jacob said, raking his fingers, palm up. “Come and get me.”

  Jacob kept a clear distance, wary of Darrellon’s paralyzing barbs.

  “My pleasure.” Darrellon laughed and cocked back the scythe to strike, when a curved knife hooked around the blade.

  Grommet.

  In Darrellon’s startled surprise, he yanked hard to free his staff when a second crescent-blade sliced through the water, catching Darrellon’s throat. In one swipe, his hooded head lopped off into the current, falling end over end, exposing his true appearance. Dreadlocks floated around the lines of his scarred face, fringed with rows of rings pierced on pasty white skin.

  Disgusted, Jacob watched the parasite squirm free from Darrellon’s bloodied mouth, as if it already knew its host wasn’t going to provide anymore.

  “Sick,” Jacob said under his breath. “Thanks, man.”

  “Don’t mention it,” Grommet said quickly, handing Jacob his other crescent-moon knife. “Where’s the girl?”

  “Out of the shark tank, I hope.”

  Grommet’s eyes grew. “Really?”

  Jacob sniffed the water and smelled blood—lots of it. He wasn’t sure if it was Darrellon’s, or coming from elsewhere, but he wouldn’t think the worst. He couldn’t.

  “She’ll be fine with my trident.” Chilling grunts and groans filled the water; a mermaid’s siren from below set his nerves on edge.

  Horror covered Grommet’s face. “Dude, we need to get down there.”

  “How many of them are there?”

  “I don’t know. Ten, fifteen, maybe.” Grommet’s fear accosted Jacob’s senses, practically shaking sense into him. “It’s a blood bath. Once Darrellon swam through and headed to Azor’s room, I dropped a cabinet over the hole, knowing we could take him. The algae scum are freaking using cassava against us, man, their own comrades.”

  Together, they swam to the sealed porthole, but not before Jacob looked out the window. In the distance a shark writhed, a trident sticking out of its mouth. He struggled to see Tatiana through the cloud of blood or the metal door leading out. Had she’d gotten away? Was the blood only the shark’s?

  Something beat against the floor, smashing the bricks away. Then a loud shrill, louder than any mermaid’s siren, vibrated the current—but it wasn’t female. Both Grommet and Jacob held their ears.

  “What the heck—?” Jacob pinched his eyes shut, afraid his eardrums would burst. Then the entire building shook as something hit the side of the compound.

  “I told ya they’re animals.”

  Jacob looked at him, fearful. “What was that noise?”

  “I don’t know, but we better do something before I pee my skirt like a girl.”

  “Wait,” Jacob said quickly, feeling the wall directly across from to him. “I have an idea.”

  Jacob swam to Darrellon and pried the scythe from his dead fingers. He aimed at the wall opposite Tatiana’s room and cocked back the blade. On the third whack, tiny air bubbles rushed through the hole. Then an explosion of air blew bricks outward, revealing the backside of a hidden room, Xirene’s.

  “What the—?” Grommet said, dumbfounded.

  “I knew it.” Jacob entered the now entirely flooded room.

  A wooden trapdoor on the floor flipped open, dislodging a rug and revealing another porthole exit.

  “Go,” Jacob said, with a firm point. “Find Sandy. Tell her what’s happened and that we need ink and lots of it, then go to Tatiana’s house. It’s the last one on Percophidae Lane. Tell her to pack her things. I’m coming.”

  Grommet’s spine stiffened. “No.”

  “What do you mean no?”

  “I’m not going without Nicole.”

  Jacob blinked at him, speechless.

  “I know what you’re going to say, but…”—Grommet clenched his fists on the hilt of his blade. “We hit it off and—” At another siren, Grommet palmed his hair. “I have to go find
her!”

  Before Jacob could argue, Grommet swam down through Xirene’s private porthole and disappeared into the kitchen.

  Jacob stared at the empty porthole, confused. Nicole? The noises in the hall cleared his focus. He needed to get to the dungeon and the fastest way was through the shark-tank. He kicked his tail and returned to the guest room. With his scythe, he busted out the rocks once again. Tatiana’s flowery scent hit his nose. Panicked, he shot a look off across the tank to look for her. Not a shark or Tatiana was in sight.

  Quickly, he replaced the bricks and swam below to the backside of the dungeon. In the wall, a huge hole had been knocked clean. Inside, fear surrounded him and through the red haze he looked at the cells.

  “Jax?” Jacob whispered, swimming to the first cage. Another siren gripped him, and he hoped Nicole and Grommet were escaping. “Jax, are you in here?”

  Grunts and weapons clashing against one another echoed from inside the compound. Feeling along the bars, he moved parallel to the floor. Fleshy bits of something grazed his hand and Jacob pulled away as a severed arm bobbed by in the current.

  He knocked it away and pressed his body to the floor, wishing he would have stolen Darrellon’s black robe to better conceal himself, when it hit him. He wore a rebel robe, not that of a Dradux. Were they there to look like rebels?

  With his fingers, he inched his body to the doorway for a better look. Through the veil of the blood, he could barely make out a figure. When they turned, he pressed himself to the floor, accidentally knocking his tail against the opened door.

  “What’s that?” a male voice asked. “Go check it out.”

  The water swished around his head and Jacob held his breath. A barb nicked him in the back and he stifled a groan. Pain seized him like a cramp.

  “What the—?” someone above him said.

  Jacob lay still and played dead. A laugh mocked him as another painful zap hit him in the side. This time Jacob couldn’t subdue his reaction. He whipped his tail, propelling his body upward. He poised his scythe, challenging his attacker to try stinging him again.

  Through the red vapor, Blanchard’s smile came into view. He, too, was dressed in the black robes of a rebel, but Jacob knew he wasn’t one. Blanchard pointed his scythe at Jacob while eyeing his weapon.

  “Jacob,” he said evilly. “Alive, I see.”

  “I should say the same of you, rebel.”

  “Yes, I guess I am.” He quirked his head. “Where’s your girl?”

  My girl? At the irony, Jacob had to laugh. “Far from here, I hope.”

  “Or maybe not,” Blanchard cocked his brow as another siren hit the waters, he then nodded, his eyes darting to a place behind Jacob.

  Jacob charged, ready to slice open Blanchard’s throat if he didn’t tell him where Tatiana was when heat speared Jacob’s back. He coughed, clutching his chest, and looked down at the red gushing in billowing bursts around shiny metal tinted in green, protruding out of his chest. Laughter filled the water as Chauncey came into view. Then two Chauncey’s danced in a circle following a third, like a figure eight, before everything went to black.

  25

  : : :

  Tricked

  Anxious to get Jacob help, Tatiana darted off toward the palace, then she slowed. If the attackers weren’t rebels as Jacob claimed, then who were they? Was the palace under attack, too?

  Azor’s scent hit her nose and she halted. He’d been there, moments ago. She scanned the horizon and neighboring houses for him, tempted to at least call out a warning. Why didn’t he come home first after visiting Tahoe?

  A group of mermen in black hoods appeared to her left. She ducked down, still sniffing the current. Her cape’s stink, though, quickly covered everyone’s trail. Others had swum by too; their scent thick like oysters. Her heart pounded as she pressed herself against the wall. Though dressed in black, they held scythes, which struck her as odd. A violent weapon, they had only one purpose: to chop off the assailant’s head, and she hadn’t remembered the rebels using them during her father’s ambush.

  With the oyster scent, the scythes and dark hoods, everything clicked and her heart galloped at the realization. Were the Dradux appearing as rebels so Azor would have another infraction to add to their growing list of crimes? “No,” she whispered as fear coursed through her. If they caught her, they surely would want to kill her to make it all the worse.

  With a kick of her fin, she high tailed it home. Through the porthole, she surfaced like she’d crossed home plate and phased into legs. Still in a fit of panic, she eyed the couch, tempted to move it over the entrance. But upon scanning the interior, she noted garlic lingering in the air. A tiny blue blanket lay on the couch next to a white oval pillow with decorative bows on the edges. The loveseat had been moved to the other side of the room as well. All things she hadn’t done.

  “Hello?” she called feebly. She dropped her cape to look for a weapon to protect herself.

  Tiptoeing into the kitchen, she pulled a knife from the chopping block, noting a bowl of fresh fruit, assorted greens, and pastries she’d only seen served on the fancy tables at the palace lay strewn on the countertop.

  “Azor?”

  She hadn’t smelled his scent at the entrance, or anyone’s scent when entering her home. Who would come here to find shelter? Move in? Yes, her parents weren’t coming back, but trespassing was unheard of in Natatoria. This was still her family’s house.

  “Jacob?”

  At the silence, she tiptoed down the hall, looking inside each doorway, blade pointed outward. The blood pulsed heavily down her shaking arms, making the knife wobbly. She wished for the sense of smell in the air, so she could know if she truly were alone.

  “I’m armed! Show yourself!”

  Again nothing. Not a noise, not a scratch. She spied her room, then her brother’s, finishing at her parents’. Clothing lay on the floor, but no intruder. A relieved breath slipped from her lips, and she lowered the blade.

  Her mother’s soft white robe, or at least what was left of it, lay on the floor next to a skirt missing half its ribbons. Had the intruder stolen the fabric to make the pillow? What nerve!

  Tatiana grabbed the items, evidence of the intrusion, and marched to the kitchen for a second investigation of the food. Her heart stopped when she spied her mother’s waterproof bag.

  Scattered onto the tabletop were her clothes, books, paints, and her diary opened to the last entry she’d written, in English of course.

  Dear Diary,

  I hate Azor so much. The way he keeps watching me, like all he wants to do is mate with me. I’m not even a person to him. Just an object. And the fanfare when he arrives. Holy Crawfish. It’s disgusting and the mermaids have no tact. They beg for his attention with their fancy tattoos, revealing tops, and beaded hair, just to be ignored. I bet they’d bare their boobs to him in an instant, if he asked. Rumor has it the servants do that already for him. Makes me want to vomit.

  And then it’s “you’re so lucky, Tatchi,” “I wish he’d promise to me,” and “has he asked you?” It’s like I’m already his. Sea serpents. Who would want him? To think of his icky, sticky, vile, licky, fish lips on mine or worse—his hands! UGH! Tahoe! Take me away. I miss Ash so much. The sun. The air. The beach. What I wouldn’t do for a soy latte at Starbucks right now.

  Can’t the Festival be over with already? Then in front of Poseidon and everybody, I can finally tell him “NO!” Or wouldn’t it be perfect if he had a garment malfunction on his vest and two perfect circles fell off of his clothes on accident? See how he’d like it if his nipples were exposed for all of Natatoria to see. Wouldn’t that be a sight?

  Thank you, Diary. You’re the best!

  Tatiana traced her fingers over the words, then closed the book. Here it was in black and white, all her feelings, all her disdain, and yet, after one empty kiss she’d forgotten everything. How could the promise do that to someone? She picked up the book and threw it across the room, angered Az
or had had so much control over her. Light reflected a golden gleam off the bracelet mid-throw. With a featherlike touch, her finger grazed the Natatorian symbol. Did it really have poison in it? She tried to slide it from her wrist, but couldn’t; the clasp locked tight. Inside, a soft shushing hit the metal—liquid. Poison.

  She gritted her teeth and slumped at the kitchen table, holding her face in her hands. The bracelet proved Azor had masterminded everything. Did he guess she’d figure out he was cheating and wanted to ensure she wouldn’t leave? Was the ambush his final stab at controlling Natatoria? Grinding the rebellion out of existence by framing them? He was going to kill her.

  With a loud gasp, someone emerged into the porthole, startling Tatiana. Her insides jumped and she palmed the knife, holding her breath, afraid who it could be. At the silence. She tiptoed into the hall, her heart rate thundering in her ears.

  “Jacob?” Tatiana asked softly.

  Tatiana heard another gasp before a splash—the intruder’s retreat.

  She ran to the empty porthole and plunged her face underwater. The corner of her cape dangled next to her, masking the intruder’s scent.

  “Red tide,” Tatiana cussed, tossing the cape in the corner.

  She peered outside through the one-way glass, seeing no one. Should she dare go out? With the Dradux ready to mer-nap her again, she couldn’t chance it. Instead, she pushed the coffee table over the hole, and heaved a heavy rock cabinet on top.

  “There,” she said shakily, knowing only a mer with Hulkish strength could lift both off at once. “Try and get me now, lampreys.”

  Sitting on the couch with her legs folded up in a ball, she sat with knife in hand and waited.

  And then the lost feelings surfaced, the suffocation that haunted her in the compound. The voice that said she’d never measure up. That she didn’t deserve happiness. That even Azor, who’d hounded her affection relentlessly, had cheated on her with Xirene and now sought to kill her. If she survived somehow and Jacob never returned, what was she going to do? She couldn’t believe he wouldn’t come for her. He had to, otherwise she’d be hunted and everlost in Natatoria—forever. And then the tears came.