Flame's Embrace

by Pillar, Amanda

  I move on instinct, years of practically living in the water making quick work of the small river, and make my way up the bank. I skid to a stop as I finally catch sight of what they’re crowded around.

  Laying on the ground, in the middle of the koalas, is the sexiest woman I’ve ever seen. Her long, icy blonde hair shimmers a pastel rainbow in the sun. The long strands are obscuring most of her face, but I catch a glimpse of full, pouty lips. I let my eyes slide across her body, blinking rapidly to make sure that I’m seeing what I think I’m seeing.

  I must be suffering from smoke inhalation or heat stroke. Fuck, maybe it’s both. I close my eyes and take a deep breath, trying to clear my head. When I open my eyes, she’s still there–lying in a crumpled heap in what looks to be a ridiculously expensive dress. The long white gown hugs her body like a glove, but thigh high slits reveal tantalizing legs that go on for days. Though her dress is a little dirty, she looks like she belongs in a Miss Universe pageant. So, what the hell is she doing stranded in the middle of the Australian bush, surrounded by a group of koalas?

  “What the fuck?” The harsh words slip from my mouth, causing the koalas guarding her to grunt at me. I back up a step and murmur some soothing words, trying to show them I’m not a threat, but they continue their warnings, causing her to moan. The sound stirs something inside me, and I take a step forward without thinking, stopping only when I realize she’s coming to.

  I watch, mouth agape, as she sits up with a groan. She sits with her back to me, her long hair brushing the ground as she rubs soothing circles against her temples.

  “Um, miss, I’ve got some water if you need it.”

  At the sound of my words, she stands and spins in an impossibly fast move, bringing her hands up in a defensive gesture. The wind begins to howl around us, and my mouth falls open at the sight of her. Her long locks billow around her, lashing out like the crack of a whip, and an intricate crown of coral and gemstones lines her forehead above the most startling aqua eyes I’ve ever seen.

  I hold up my hands and open my mouth to assure her that I’m not going to hurt her, but before the words have even had time to form, her hands begin to glow and a ball of water knocks me off my feet.

  I sputter from the force of the blast, coughing as I try to remove the last of the water from my lungs. I brush my hair from my face, unsure of what the hell just happened. My confused gaze darts to the woman, and I’m surprised to find her within arm’s reach.

  The wind begins to settle around us as she lowers her hands, and I take in the stubborn set of her jaw and fierceness in her eyes.

  “I do not fear you, human,” she says.

  And then, she collapses.

  Chapter 5

  Flint

  I react on instinct, my arms darting out to catch her just before her head would have hit the ground. My bewildered expression settles on the motionless woman in my arms. Her skin is cool to the touch, too cool. And despite the confusion swirling in my mind, my medical training kicks in, demanding I help.

  I push her hair aside to check for a pulse. My fingers brush against something odd and I lean forward to inspect her more closely. Three small slits line the side of her neck. Are those fucking gills?! My head whips side to side in disbelief, but my eyes catch on the iridescent glimmer of scales along the top of her cheek and beside her brows. Then, I do what any sane man would do. I drop her ass and scuttle backwards, losing my bag in the process as I attempt to put as much space between us as possible.

  She groans when her head makes contact with the ground, and a small part of me feels terrible for being the cause of more injury to her. But then I remember that she just tried to drown me with a giant ass ball of water, and that guilt quickly washes away.

  I push to standing and begin to pace back and forth. There’s absolutely no way that I stumbled upon some kind of fish-woman in the Australian bush. Fish-woman? Mermaid? Don’t mermaids have tails?

  I glance to where she’s still laying in a heap on the ground. One of her legs is buried beneath an ocean of whatever flimsy fabric her dress is made of, but the other pokes through a thigh-high slit, revealing long, very-human looking skin. But even as the thought crosses my mind, the light catches on more of the pearlescent scales up her shin and thigh.

  I crouch down, my hands pulling at my hair. “Shit. I’m dead,” I mutter. My mind jumping to the only logical explanation. I think back to the last thing I know for certain was real. The jump. Did something go wrong with my jump? It wouldn’t be the first time a smoke jumper was lost to a bad jump. Parachutes have been known to fail. Hell, even a strong gust of wind can knock you off course and turn deadly. Holy shit. That’s it! I’m dead!

  “Fuck!” I curse, slamming my fist into a nearby tree. Pain radiates up my arm, and I glance down to find my knuckles scraped and bleeding. I frown. If I were dead, that shouldn’t hurt. Right? So maybe I’m not dead after all. Maybe I’m unconscious or in a coma and this is all a dream.

  I cling to that small glimmer of hope as the woman begins to groan. The koalas that were protecting her so fiercely ran away when she launched the ball of water at me, and I instantly regret not following their lead as she continues to stir. Not that I let it show. Instead, I cross my arms over my chest and lean back against the tree I just bludgeoned like I haven’t got a care in the world while I wait for her to fully wake. Whatever comes next, I know one thing for sure–I’ve never been one to shy away from my fate.

  “Fuck me dead,” she moans, and I ignore the way the dirty words falling from her mouth make my stomach tighten. She sits up and rubs the back of her head. “What in the bloody hell did he do to me?”

  I scoff, stalking a step forward and roll my eyes. “Oh, that’s rich. Coming from the lady who tried to drown me.”

  She gasps, spinning to face me with an inhuman speed. When her eyes land on me, she scrambles to her feet, her hands raising to a defensive position.

  When they begin to glow, I hold my own hands up, letting her know I’m not the threat. I glare daggers at the beautiful woman. “Careful now. You’re only going to hurt yourself again,” I say between gritted teeth. “And this time, I’m not going to bother to catch you, princess.”

  My words startle her and she drops her hands, the light dissipating as quickly as it flared. “You caught me?” she asks, tilting her head to the side.

  I nod, not bothering to mention that I also dropped her. What she doesn’t know can’t hurt her.

  “Then why does my head feel like it was kicked by a kangaroo?”

  Fuck. So much for keeping that tidbit to myself. I cross my arms over my chest, feeling defensive, and shrug. “Oh, I don’t know. I may have dropped you when I tried to check your pulse and almost stuck my finger in your fucking gills, and then realized you also happen to be covered in scales!” The words explode out of me by the end, but she doesn’t react the way I expect.

  “Oh. Right then, mate. No worries,” she says with a shrug, before turning her back to me. My jaw clenches as I watch her straighten her dress and hair, completely ignoring the earth shattering allegation that she’s not exactly human.

  “Seriously?” I say with an exasperated huff. “Are we really not going to talk about the fact that you’re part fish or something?”

  She lets out an annoyed sigh. “Oi, super offensive, mate. The politically correct term is Mermaid.”

  “Oh, of course. Sorry. Didn’t recognize you without your tail,” I say, my voice dripping with sarcasm.

  “Ah,” she murmurs, nodding like that makes perfect sense. “To tell ya the truth, this is my first time on legs. Fair dinkum, I’m not really sure I’m a fan.”

  She lifts one leg, the slit in her dress revealing tantalizing skin all the way to her hip. “I guess it’s not so much the legs as these little buggers,” she says wiggling her toes. Her eyes flare wide. “Holy carp! I didn’t know I could do that,” she says with a laugh before dropping her dress. “They’re cute a
nd all, but they’re not nearly as tough as my fins.”

  A deep belly laugh bursts from me at the absurdity of this situation, but my laughter dries up quickly when I finally take in the state of her feet. The bottoms are angry and red. Already, blisters are forming, and some areas ooze with a turquoise colored liquid. I shudder, not allowing myself to think about whether or not that’s the color of her blood. Once again, my medical training kicks in, and I find myself marching over to where I dropped my pack earlier.

  “What do ya think you’re doing?” she asks warily.

  “Relax,” I grit out. “I have some medic training. I’m just gonna try to help you.”

  She watches me with an uncertain gaze as I dig through my bag for my first aid supplies. I ignore the way her eyes feel on my skin as I pull out the kit then motion for her to sit on a large rock near the bed of the river.

  She bites her lip, but does as I ask. I crouch down in front of her, pulling her leg from the tangle of fabric, and get to work assessing her injuries. The bottoms of her feet are badly burned, and I let out a low whistle at the sight of the already oozing blisters.

  “Christ,” I mutter. “That has to be painful. Why the hell aren’t you wearing shoes?” I ask, not bothering to hide my irritation from her.

  “No need to crack the shits.” She tilts her head to the side, her brows puckered. “Wait. What are shoes?”

  I groan, rubbing a hand over my face. Guess that answers that question. I motion to my boots. “They’re like...dresses,” I say, waving a hand to encompass her ridiculous gown. “But you know, for your feet. To protect them from getting injured.”

  She frowns. “Huh. I didn’t know I needed them.”

  I grunt. “Yeah, well...in case you haven’t noticed, princess, Australia is on fire. It’s not really the best time to be wandering around barefoot.”

  She gasps, reaching a hand out to place it on my arm. A tingle races along my skin where she touches, and she quickly pulls her hand back, her cheeks heating.

  “Sorry about that,” she murmurs.

  I grunt but otherwise ignore the strange interaction and do my best to stay focused on her feet. I pull out the antiseptic and wipe it across her foot as gently as possible.

  “Son of a swordfish!” she shouts, kicking out against my hold.

  I shoot her an apologetic look, managing to keep hold of her foot. “Sorry, I should have warned you it would sting a little.” I shoot her an amused grin. “Honestly though, I thought you were made of tougher stuff from the looks of your feet. Didn’t think a little thing like antiseptic could hurt you.”

  She scrunches her nose and settles back onto the rock. “I am tough,” she mutters. “I just didn’t know it would sting like a jellyfish.”

  I fight the urge to grin as I continue to work on patching up her wounds. This time when I wipe the antiseptic across her skin, I blow softly, easing the sting the way my mother used to when I was little.

  Her eyes widen, and her cheeks heat as we lock gazes. For what feels like an eternity, we sit, trapped in each other’s stare. Until finally, she sucks in a sharp breath and pulls her gaze away.

  My heart thunders in my chest. What the hell was that? Is she a mermaid? Or is she a siren? Something about her calls to me. I shake my head, doing my best to clear those unwanted thoughts from my mind, and focus back on my task.

  “So, um, you said that Australia is burning. How bad is it?” she asks, her voice sounding breathier than it did before, and I let myself hope that maybe I’m not the only one affected by our touching.

  I clear my throat. “Pretty fucking bad.” I wrap a bandage around her foot before motioning for her to give me her other one. “Fires rage in every state and territory, though the worst are here, along the eastern and southern coasts. Nearly a billion animals, like your little koala friends, have died, and thousands of people have lost their homes.”

  A gasp escapes her, and I glance up to find tears falling from her aqua eyes. “Hey, don’t worry,” I tell her, brushing the tears from her cheeks. “It will take a hell of a lot more than these flames to extinguish the Australian spirit. They’ll rebuild and rehabilitate. All we need is a little luck...and maybe some fucking rain.”

  “This is why I’m here,” she says, determination filling her voice.

  I drop her bandaged foot and glance up at her with a confused stare. “Why? Do you control the rain?” I chuckle, a hint of bewilderment in my tone. My knowledge of mermaids isn’t much, but nothing about her statement makes sense to me.

  She shakes her head, moving to stand, but I push her back down. “You really shouldn’t be walking on those bandages. You could get an infection if you don’t keep your wounds clean.” I’m not actually sure that’s true, but since my training is only in human medicine and not mythical creatures, I’ve decided to treat this patient the same.

  She sighs, but settles back on the rock. “No. I can’t bring the rain,” she admits, returning to our conversation, and a small part of me deflates at her words. It would have been nice to know help was on the way for the people and animals who call this place home.

  “But my father can.”

  My shocked gaze snaps to her. “What?”

  She nods enthusiastically. “My father can bring the rain. If I can just make it home and tell him about all that I’ve seen, I’m sure he’ll help.”

  “Seriously?” I ask skeptically.

  She reaches out to grip my arm and nods again. I ignore the strange feeling that travels through me where her hand touches me and stare into her brilliant blue eyes that are begging me to believe her.

  “Okay. So where is home? And how do we get you back?” I ask.

  “Pacifica,” she says brightly, but her smile quickly dims. “And I’m not sure.” She bites her lip as she glances down to her bandaged feet. “I don’t think I can swim home, and—” her words cut off. She straightens her spine, pinning me with a glare before continuing. “If you ever tell anyone I said this, I will deny it...but my feet do kinda hurt. I know that’s weak, but having legs is exhausting.”

  “Princess, I don’t think anyone who knows you would ever call you weak.”

  She smiles shyly at me. “Will ya help me get home?”

  I push to my feet and rub a hand over the back of my neck. “I’m sorry, princess, but I can’t.”

  Her eyes turn sad. “Maren,” she whispers.

  “Huh?”

  “You don’t have to call me princess. My name is Maren.”

  I smile at her, reaching a hand out. She places her delicate palm in mine. The same tingle races up my arm at the contact, but I do my best to ignore it and place a kiss on the back of her hand. “Nice to officially meet you, Maren. I’m Flint. Flint Atwater. Not a prince,” I say with a wink.

  Her cheeks heat, and I drop her hand before clearing my throat. “Listen, I’m sorry. I really wish I could help you more.”

  Her eyes brighten at my words and she bounces a little. “Maybe you can,” she says with more enthusiasm. “Ya know, if you help a royal mermaid, you get a wish!”

  My brow furrows. “I thought genies were the ones who granted wishes. Wait. Royal mermaid? So, you are a princess?”

  She laughs a tinkling sound and points to the crown on her head. “Thought that was rather obvious.”

  I grin sheepishly at her, then rub a hand over my face. “Okay. Let’s pretend like I believe in mermaid wishes. Shouldn’t you already owe me one? I mean, by my count, I’ve already helped you twice.”

  A blush steals over her cheeks and she bites her lip before answering. “Technically, a deal with a mermaid must be sealed with a kiss.”

  My eyes dart to her full lips, and my breathing turns shallow as I contemplate the thought of tasting them. A desperation I’ve never felt before sweeps through me, and I grit my teeth against it.

  “What are the limitations of the wish?” I ask, the words much gruffer than usual. “Can I wish for you to
bring rain?”

  “You can,” she says, nodding. “But it would be a waste of a wish. I already gave you my word that I would bring the rains, and my word is sacred. Surely there’s something else ya want?”

  I want you. The words filter through my mind with a force that leaves me shaken, but I lock my jaw, refusing to let them slip. Instead, I ask the question that’s been on my mind since I first laid eyes on her soft curves. “What about your fiancé or betrothed or whatever? Aren’t princesses always betrothed? How would he feel about you kissing a human?”

  “I’m not betrothed,” she whispers breathily.

  I move forward without thought, stepping between her legs and bringing my body flush against hers. She lets out a breathy moan, when I reach a hand up to cup her cheek. “Well then, I guess we have a deal, princess,” I say, before pulling her mouth up to meet mine.

  Chapter 6

  Flint

  My lips crash against hers with the force of a tsunami, and she responds in kind. Our tongues tangle against each other, and I groan as I realize she tastes like the fucking ocean. Of course she does. Her hands tangle in my hair, pulling me closer. I wrap my arms around her, groaning when I realize that her damn dress dips dangerously low in the back. My fingers trace patterns up her spine, and she tears her mouth away with a gasp.

  The thought of stopping this kiss makes my chest physically ache, so I don’t. Instead, I trail my lips along her jaw and up the column of her throat. My tongue and teeth work in tandem, nipping then soothing their way down and then back up.

  “Holy carp,” she gasps as I trail my tongue along the length of her jaw.

  I chuckle, my warm breath washing over her face, and she lets out a sound of frustration before pulling my mouth back to hers. Her eyes burn as she traces my bottom lip with her tongue before sucking it into her mouth. One of my hands slips under the edge of her dress, gripping her waist and pulling her closer. The other is buried in her long hair, the pearlescent strands as soft as wet sand.