The Mermaid's Journey_A Reverse Harem

by Kellie McAllen

  I nod. “I want to mate with you, Jude.”

  He tears his eyes away from mine, reaching for his pants. He digs through the pockets till his finds a small, flat square then rips it open and pulls out a thin circle, slipping it over his tip and rolling it down his length.

  “What is that?”

  “It’s a condom. For protection.”

  “Protection from what?”

  Jude gives a wry smile. “I forgot; Liam’s firing blanks. I guess he doesn’t use these. It’s so you don’t get pregnant.”

  “Isn’t that the point of mating?”

  Jude lets out an uneasy laugh. “Well, technically, yeah. But I don’t think we’re ready for that, do you? I just turned 21. I don’t have a job or my own place. I didn’t even have a clue what I wanted to do with my life until today when you told me I should be a chef. And you’re… how old are you, anyway?”

  “I’ve lived through 20 cycles. I am mating age.”

  Jude frowns and sits back on his heels. “Coral, is that what you want? Someone to mate with so you can have a baby? I thought we were just having a good time.”

  Jude winces and looks out into the distance, trying to figure out how to speak the thoughts in his head. The guys often forget I can hear what they’re thinking. His desire for me wars with his fears.

  He turns and looks at me, his face pinched. “Coral, if a baby is what you want, maybe we need to rethink this. I don’t want to lose you, but I don’t expect you to give up your dreams, either. Maybe one of the other guys is interested in having kids right now, although I kinda doubt it, but I am definitely not.”

  I pull myself into a sitting position. “Jude, in the shoal, this is what we do. Mermaids of mating age go to the land to mate then return and raise their merlings with a merman. This is all I know. But I’m here because I want more than that. I want to see how humans live, and I want to be with you.”

  Jude’s frown softens, and he strokes my face and neck. “I want to be with you, too, Coral.”

  “So, this is what humans do? They use protection so they can mate without having merlings?”

  Jude nods. “Yeah. We like to get our lives figured out before we try to raise kids.”

  “So, if we use protection, we can still mate?”

  “If you want to.” I can feel Jude’s desire pulsing through every thought. He doesn’t push, but my own desire is just as strong.

  “I like mating. I’d like to mate with you.” I smile at him, putting my arms on his shoulders and leaning in for another kiss. Jude’s mouth curls in a smile against mine.

  “I’d like that, too.” He kisses me back, harder this time, then lays me down and runs a hand between my legs, caressing me till I’m slick and writhing beneath him. Pleasure crashes into me over and over again like the surf, rolling through my body, tossing me till I can’t see, can’t breathe, can’t do anything but let it take me. When I cry out, Jude moves his hand and slides himself inside, stroking till I can see the stars above us even with my eyes closed. Eventually, they burst — around me, inside me — and Jude collapses on top of me as they assault him, too.

  Afterwards, Jude plucks an orange from one of the trees and peels the thick, orange skin off. He pull apart the fruit inside and puts a section in his mouth. “Umm, delicious. Here, try it.”

  He hands a section to me, and I bite into it, the bright, juicy, citrus flavor exploding on my tongue. When I grin, he feeds me several more.

  After we’re finished, Jude lays back on the mattress, so I snuggle up to him, wrapping an arm around him and drawing letters on his chest like we did when he first taught me the alphabet. I spell his name over and over again, and we stare at the stars until I fall asleep.

  Chapter 17

  When we get back in the morning, I expect everyone to be in the living room where we left them, but instead, the room is empty.

  “Anybody here?” Jude calls out.

  Gio comes out of the bathroom then, dressed and ready.

  “Going somewhere?” Jude looks him up and down.

  Gio squeezes his fists and paces. “I need to get my life back. Look at some boats, find out what happened to the stuff in my apartment, buy some clothes if I can’t get mine back, figure out where I’m gonna live. I’ve been laying around long enough. You think you could drive me around a little bit today, at least till I can find my truck or get some new wheels?”

  Jude shrugs. “Yeah, sure. Why not? It would be cool to check out some boats.”

  They take off with barely a wave goodbye, so caught up in their plans for the day neither of them offers to take me with them. Disappointment washes over me.

  Liam comes out of the bedroom a few moments later, dressed in black pants and a stiff, white shirt with a strip of red fabric hanging from his neck. He frowns at the sight of me. From his thoughts I know he’s somewhat jealous that Jude and I were gone all night because he assumes we mated. He wants to know where we’ve been, but he doesn’t say anything, just gives me a conflicted look.

  “You look nice, Liam,” I say, because I can tell he’s dressed this way to make a good impression on someone, and I’m hoping to soften his scowl.

  It works. “Thank you, Coral.” He gives me a soft smile. “I’m going to talk to an admissions advisor at the university today about re-enrolling for the fall semester, try to get back on track.”

  “Where’s Avery?” I ask, starting to feeling nervous that no one seems to be interested in including me in their plans for the day.

  “He went home last night after you left. I think he was going to go apartment hunting again today. Where are Jude and Gio?” Liam looks around.

  “They went to go look at boats.”

  He glances anxiously between me and the clock a few times, frowning. “Coral, I really need to go. I have an appointment in half an hour. Will you be all right by yourself for a little while?”

  All of a sudden I feel like I’m adrift, floating alone on a raft in the sea while everyone else swims for shore. They all have lives they want to get back to, and they’re all going different directions.

  I feel our family sifting through my fingers like sand. It’s because we’re not really a family. These guys weren’t even friends before they left on that boat. The only thing they had in common was a desire to explore the sea. Now that they’re back, the only thing they share is me. But will I be torn apart when they go their separate ways?

  The last thing I want is to be left alone, but I can sense Liam’s distress. He obviously doesn’t want to take me with him. I nod and try to smile, pretending I’m not terrified. I can handle this, I tell myself. I want to live like a human, so this is a chance for me to prove I can do it.

  Liam smiles back in relief and smooths his perfectly-styled black hair. “Okay, great. It shouldn’t be more than a couple hours. Make yourself at home, okay?”

  Liam kisses me goodbye, a peck on the cheek, and suddenly I’m by myself for the first time. Alone in a foreign world.

  What should I do? I have no idea how human women spend their days. If I were in the shoal, I’d swim with Meribel — chase fish or play in the reef. Actually, if I were still in the shoal, I’d be married by now and busy raising merlings, but it doesn’t look like that’s an option for me here. The guys all have plans that don’t include procreating.

  My bladder demands my attention, so I go to the bathroom to relieve myself, happy for the distraction, however brief. Once I’m there, I see that I’m a mess. The makeup that made me look so pretty yesterday is worn off, the little that remains is smudged. My hair is tangled, and my dress is rumpled, the buttons misaligned.

  I spot the tub behind me in the mirror. A shower, that’s what I need. Or maybe a bath, instead, since my eyes water at the memory of my last shower. I can handle that, I think. It feels more natural to me, anyway. I turn on the water and wait for it to get warm then carefully adjust it so it’s not too hot before plugging the tub.

  I climb in the tub, enjoying the warm wat
er. Even though the fresh water doesn’t bring out my tail, and it’s nothing like swimming in the ocean, it’s still comforting to feel the water on my skin. It’s only been a few days since I was last in the sea, but it seems like a lifetime ago. At least on the island, where the two worlds touched, I could see the shore and dive in whenever I wanted. Here, in this glass and metal box, I feel completely disconnected from my previous life. But that’s what I wanted, isn’t it? A new life in a whole new world?

  It feels lonely without one of the guys here to help me, but I manage to wash my hair and body without getting soap in my eyes, and I feel very proud of myself.

  With my human legs stretched out in front of me under the bright lights of the bathroom, the fine hairs swaying in the clear water, I’m reminded of the women in the bar who thought my legs were too hairy. I don’t have nearly as much hair on my legs as the guys do, but the women in the bathroom had none at all, their skin as smooth as the guys’ faces after a shave. Do they shave their legs like men shave their faces?

  I see Liam’s razor on the edge of the tub, and out of curiosity, I pick it up and run it lightly up the side of my leg. When I lift it up, there’s a swath of hairless skin. Excited, I move to another spot, right in the middle of my leg. I press down a little harder and pull the razor towards me, but this time I yelp as pain follows in its wake. Blood starts running down my leg, blooming like a pink flower once it hits the water before disappearing.

  What have I done? Hands shaking, I splash water on my leg to wash away the blood so I can see the cut better, but it makes the pain worse, and the stream of blood reappears immediately. My heart starts pounding, loud in my ears. Bleeding is dangerous. It attracts predators, and merfolk have died from wounds that lose too much blood.

  There aren’t any predators here, I tell myself, trying to calm my racing heart. The faster it beats, the more blood rushes out. This wound doesn’t seem bad enough to kill me, but the blood shows no sign of stopping on its own.

  The cut is on my leg, so if I could get to seawater, my tail would reappear, instantly healing the wound. But how can I get there? I have no idea where the sea is from here; I haven’t seen it in days. And there’s no one here to take me. I don’t even know how to contact anyone. The guys have cellphones, but I don’t. I don’t even know how to use one. Panic wells up inside me.

  Liam said he’d be back in a few hours. Will I bleed to death if I wait that long? I have no idea how long an hour is. The guys explained how humans measure time once, but we had no reason to keep track of it on the island. The path of the sun through the sky was enough for us to estimate how long before day turned to night.

  I can’t risk waiting for help to come, I have to take care of myself. In the shoal, we wrap seagrass around a wound to stop it from bleeding, but there’s nothing like that here. I have to find something else to wrap the wound. I look around frantically, my eyes settling on the toilet paper. It’s long and flexible, like seagrass, and there’s plenty of it.

  I jump out of the tub and yank off a long strand of it, wrapping it around my leg, but the paper quickly soaks up the water on my leg and turns mushy. It tears apart when I pull on it, and I can’t get it tight enough to stop the bleeding. I tear off the soaked paper and grab a towel to dry my leg, smearing blood all over the bright, white cloth.

  I pull off another length of paper, and this time the only thing it soaks up is the blood. I wrap it around and around, blood seeping through each new layer as soon as I cover the old one. I keep wrapping, adding strand after strand of paper till it’s thick and puffy around my calf. Eventually, the blood no longer soaks through.

  I feel okay, no other symptoms besides the sharp sting of the wound, so hopefully I’m in no danger. I sigh and let the tension drain off of me. My body shivers as my heart rate slows. I grab a towel and wrap it around me, curling up in a ball. I took care of myself, and I’m going to be okay. I actually feel kind of proud.

  Once I’m calm again, I make sure the toilet paper is secure around my leg and walk carefully to the bedroom to find some clothes. I put on the yellow dress because I’m afraid to wear anything I’d have to pull over my bandaged leg.

  Back in the bathroom, I drain the tub and wipe up the blood that dripped on the floor with the towel, cringing at the red smears. In the mirror, my face looks pale and haunted, so I force a smile. I’d look a lot better with a little makeup on.

  My eyes flick to the makeup bag sitting on the counter. I need to learn how to put this on, right? I might as well practice. I pull out all the items that Avery used on me yesterday and spread them out, intent on figuring out how to do this myself.

  I manage to dab the foundation on and pat my face with powder, but the rest is a little harder. One swipe of the blush doesn’t seem to be enough, so I load up the brush and put some more on, but then my cheeks look too bright. I rub at it with my hands, but that only seems to smear it around.

  I’m more careful with the eyeshadow, swiping just a tiny bit of the lighter color on my lids. When I try to outline my eyebrows, though, I have trouble following the natural shape, and they come out crooked and uneven.

  The mascara is even harder. It goes on thick and makes my lashes clump together, but the more I run the wand through them, the worse they get. I look like I have spiny sea urchins stuck to my lids. Eventually, I give up and try the lipstick, but I can’t seem to stay within the lines of my lips.

  I sigh and feel the tears sting the corners of my eyes as I look in the mirror. I look nothing like I did yesterday when Avery did this for me. I want to give up and throw it all away, but instead I decide to take a break and try again later. It’s not like I have anything better to do.

  My stomach growls, reminding me it’s been a long time since last night’s dinner. I head to the kitchen, intent on feeding myself. The guys bought some fish for me that I could eat without cooking, but the memory of last night’s dinner comes back to me, the aroma of garlic bread and marinara sauce so strong in my mind, I swear I can smell it even now.

  We had some left over, and I remember Liam saying that the fridge makes food last longer. The food in there should still be good to eat, I think. I open the fridge and pull out the plastic container filled with spaghetti. I dig out a noodle with my fingers and drop it in my mouth, not bothering with a fork since I still have trouble using them.

  The spaghetti doesn’t taste nearly as good as it did yesterday, though. Is it because it’s cold? Maybe I should heat it up. I head to the stove and turn the knob like I watched Jude do yesterday, jumping a bit when the flames pop up, even though I expected them to.

  On the island, we held our food over the fire with sticks. But I don’t have any sticks, and I think the noodles would fall off, anyway. Jude put the food in containers and set it on the metal bars that crisscross above the flames, so I decide to do that. The container the spaghetti is in sits just fine on the grate.

  He also stirred the food a lot so the bottom wouldn’t burn, so I scour the kitchen looking for something to stir it with. I can’t find the spoon Jude used yesterday, but I rummage around until I find others in a drawer.

  Grabbing one, I turn back around and gasp when I see what’s happening. Flames surround the blackened sides of the container, melting it, and the liquid drips off into the fire, creating little sparks. Smoke curls from the sides.

  I yelp and rush over to the stove, turning the knob to kill the flame, but instead it only grows larger. The bottom of the container melts away, and the spaghetti falls into the fire. The flames quickly engulf it, hissing and crackling.

  Suddenly, a loud screeching sound explodes around me, and I scream in fright. My head swivels around, looking for the source, but I have no idea where it’s coming from. I can’t worry about that right now, though. The flames are quickly eating away at the spaghetti, and the smoke is getting heavier, clouding the air with acrid fumes that make me want to cough and squint my eyes, making it hard to see anything but the orange flames.

  T
here’s a towel nearby, so I grab it and wave it around, trying to clear away some of the smoke, but the tip gets too close to the fire, and a flame jumps up and latches onto the cloth. I scream and drop the cloth into the fire. The flames immediately engulf it, shooting higher than before.

  I know that water puts out fire; I remember how upset the guys got when a rainstorm came and doused our campfire. I quickly grab a glass and fill it with water from the sink then toss it at the stove. I’m not close enough, though, so most of the water falls to the ground instead. The little that hits the flames isn’t enough to put them all out, and the flames quickly lick up the water and flash back immediately.

  I have to get more water on it at one time! I grab a large bowl and fill it with water then force myself to get as close to the stove as I dare, holding my breath. I dump the water on the fire, and a cloud of smoke and steam rushes up, choking and blinding me. I stumble backwards, slipping on the wet floor, and crash to the ground.

  Tears spurt from my eyes and stream down my cheeks, and I’m not sure if they’re from the smoke or my own terror. I’m gasping for breath, but I can’t seem to get any air, breathing so hard my lungs and chest ache. I bring my knees to my chest and wrap my arms around my legs, wincing when I touch my wound.

  The screeching sound stops, mercifully, but I’m sobbing so loudly, I don’t hear Avery calling my name till he’s squatting right in front of me, shaking my shoulders.

  “Coral, Coral! Are you okay?”

  I grab onto him, knocking him to his knees. He wraps his arms around me and pushes my head into his chest, curling his body around me.

  “It’s okay, I’m here, you’re safe.” He whispers the words over and over again, rocking me in his arms. I feel my tears soaking his shirt, my nose running. His fresh, musky scent fills my nostrils, overpowering the smell of burnt plastic and spaghetti. My whole body shakes against him, but his strong arms hold me tight.

  After several long moments, Avery shifts his body into a seated position on the floor and pulls me into his lap. He strokes my hair and wipes away the strands that are stuck to my face. My lips quiver as I suck in a shaky breath, my heart finally slowing enough that I can hear over it.