The Marked Ones (Fairytail Saga)

by Munt, S. K

  Ivyanne’s sweet voice jolted him out of his reverie. He turned down to regard her, too annoyed by the mystery to be as accommodating as usual.

  ‘Oh I’m sorry Ivyanne-I’m trying to hold this bar together right now. But you’re right- I should drop everything to deal with two measly little mud crabs! I know Captain Planet Tristan would!’ He looked around. ‘Don’t you have tables to bus or something similarly useful?’

  Ivyanne’s eyes bugged. She shoved her order pad into her apron pocket. ‘Where did that come from?!’ She glanced around and then lowered her voice. ‘Have I done something to piss you off since we last, uh, spoke?’

  Lincoln shrugged, enjoying her distress. Let her try and figure him out for once. ‘No. But your smart-ass boyfriend came dangerously close to getting knocked out this afternoon, and it got me thinking about how sick I am of being walked over.’ He narrowed his eyes, remembering Tristan’s frank innuendo that afternoon, and the way it had rattled Lincoln like a cyclone. ‘And lead on. And lied to.’

  ‘Lied to?’ Ivyanne frowned. ‘Look Lincoln I don’t know what’s gotten into you, and I don’t know what Tristan said-but this is hardly the place to discuss it.’ She looked around nervously. ‘Can you just chill please? It’s been a hard day on us all.’

  He stepped out of her way, pasted a fake smile on his face and motioned for her to pass. ‘By all means, get on with your work. The sooner the day is done, the sooner you can get back to your blooming love-life, right?’

  Ivyanne stared at him for a full ten seconds, as though completely clueless to what was going on. ‘Whatever,’ she eventually snapped, pushing past him, being careful not to touch him at all. As she walked off, she muttered something under her breath. He only caught the words: ‘Bad Mood,’ and ‘Contagious.’

  ‘Lincoln?’ Adele appeared from behind him, looking pale, and reproachful. She was dressed down in jeans and a sweatshirt, and there was a deep crease between her eyebrows. She was clutching her purse in her hands. ‘Did I just hear you and Ivyanne fighting?’

  Shit! Lincoln thought, hearing Tristan’s threat reverberate in his brain. She’s supposed to be in her room! Lincoln felt guilty, and knew he should apologize-but his bad mood was getting worse and he was sick of feeling like the women in his life had him by the balls. So Lincoln glared at her. ‘She’s my worker, Adele. She’s going to get reprimanded every now and then.’

  ‘A reprimand?’ Adele hissed, leaning closer, eyes narrowed. ‘I heard you say lead on and lied to Lincoln. What the fuck is that all about, huh? Ivyanne can’t lead you anywhere unless you’re….’ Her hand came to her mouth, cupping it as her eyes widened with horror. ‘Oh Link….!’ Tears sprung to her blue eyes. ‘Do you want her?’

  Lincoln stared at his girlfriend, who looked like she was about to collapse, feeling like a monster. He had no response. No denial. Nothing to comfort her, or save face. Because Adele was right. He wanted Ivyanne more than he’d ever wanted anything. Maybe even Ivanna.

  Tears spilled down Adele’s cheeks. ‘You’ve wanted her from the start, haven’t you? That’s why you were working out, and why you went to the spa...why you’re mad at Tristan. You’re not jealous over me-you’re jealous over her.’

  The mention of Tristan’s name turned Lincoln’s guilt, to fury. ‘I’m sorry Adele. Have I offended you? Maybe you should write down the name of every guy you messed around with during the year so I can get appropriately jealous over every one of them, huh?’

  She shrank back. ‘That’s not fair! We weren’t together!’

  ‘At your insistence! And you handled it just fine.’ He drew back from her, feeling something inside him go cold. ‘So I’m sure you’ll cope as well this time too.’

  Adele’s shrank back. ‘What are you saying?’

  Lincoln narrowed his eyes and caught sight of Ivyanne, who was kneeling on the floor next to babies and stroking the hair of one, while smiling angelically at the other two. She was so beautiful and so vibrant...being around her made him feel alive. And being around Adele made him feel numb.

  Ivyanne must have felt his gaze, because she looked over and froze, swallowing hard, her beautiful green eyes awash with a million emotions he couldn’t label. But he wanted those eyes to look at him lovingly, the way Ivanna once had. And they never would as long as he had a girlfriend.

  Lincoln swallowed. Tristan had thrown down the challenge-and he was accepting it. He’d end up with all, or nothing. But he wasn’t going to live a lie anymore.

  ‘I’m saying that you should go to my room, and get your things.’ He said softly. ‘I have a job to do and I life to live...and I don’t think I want you being a part of either anymore.’ Adele had been spared his expression of heartbreak when she’d ended things, because she’d done so over the phone. Now, Lincoln returned the favor by stalking off to clear table seven without a backwards glance.

  ⁓

  ‘Rain, rain, go away, come again another day…’ Ivyanne sang softly to the babies, breaking eye contact only long enough to see Adele turn on her heel and bolt from the room. Her stomach rolled, but she had to keep an even, calm mind if she was going to successfully siren the infants. ‘...The little babies want to play, rain, rain, go away…’

  The closest baby blinked slowly, heavily. The second followed suit. The third yawned. Their teeth-grinding wails had ceased, and their complexions were evening out from mottled red, to translucent.

  ‘How did you do that?’ The mother whispered, leaning over. Her pupils were equally dilated. ‘Are you a witch or what?’

  ‘Only on my days off.’ Ivyanne rose to her feet and winked at the parents, stifling a giggle when she saw the father yawn. She’s only sung lightly, not wanting to put the triplets into a coma, but it seemed like she’d bewitched the adults too.

  ‘Well, feel free to come to our bungalow and-’ the mother yawned. ‘Oh, excuse me-spell cast, at any time.’

  ‘You know where to find me.’ Ivyanne took the father’s empty desert bowl and hurried off, glancing back to see Lincoln stacking the empty plates on table seven, his face revealing nothing. She pushed through the saloon doors and walked the plate down to the kitchen, anxiety coursing through her. What had he said to Adele, to make her run from the room, crying? Given the way he’d snapped at Ivyanne just minutes before, all bets were off. The restaurant was mayhem, and the humans were definitely feeling the strain. Table twelve had been the worst. All night they’d done nothing but drunkenly complain about the slow service and the bad weather. Ivyanne had been forced to hum under her breath when she’d gone over to mop up a spilled beer, and that had settled them for half an hour, but not before they’d made Livi burst into tears.

  ‘...I can’t cook for one hundred and thirty people!’ Chef Lee’s indignant tirade was audible the moment Ivyanne entered the corridor. ‘Not on a Tuesday night without a sous chef!’

  ‘I’m sorry we aren’t prepared for this Lee, but we have to feed them!’ Chase sounded like he was struggling to hold his temper. ‘The yacht club is booked out. Just do the best you can! They have nowhere else to go!’

  ‘Not true-if they can’t be patient, they can go to hell!’ Lee snapped. ‘I don’t slop food onto plates. I am an artist!’

  Ivyanne slowed her steps. Ardhi’s tantrum earlier that day had literally forced her to put out a fire, and it felt like she’d done nothing but putting out fires since. She closed her eyes, reminding herself that singing was keeping her calm too, and drew in a deep breath before proceeding forward singing: ‘What A Wonderful World’

  She entered the kitchen as she sang softly, keeping her head down as she approached the dishwasher.

  ‘I’m not paying you paint, Lee. I’m paying you to cook!’

  Ivyanne scraped the melon rinds off the plate and into the trash. The resonance of her voice echoed perfectly off the walls, filling her ears. She knew the song well and kept her voice low and soothing. Almost instantly, the men glanced over at her. Within twenty five seconds, the kitchen
had fallen silent. Ivyanne glanced up as she stacked the bowl with the other dirty ones, and glanced over at her superiors. They were watching her, with dazed expressions. Pupils dilated, breathing deep. Ivyanne smiled.

  ‘You guys are doing a great job by the way.’ She said, keeping her voice low. ‘The customers are happy, the food is delicious-and you’re both feeling calm, and happy.’

  ‘Calm.’ Chase repeated, not blinking. ‘Happy. Yes.’

  Ivyanne’s heart was beating rapidly. She so rarely had use for singing amongst her own people, that she’d forgotten how rewarding it could be. She turned to face the chef. ‘You’re handling this so well, Lee. Just stay focused, and you’ll get through this. You’re not feeling rushed at all.’

  ‘I’m focused.’ Lee repeated in a monotone, staring through her. ‘I am not rushed.’

  ‘Good.’ Ivyanne retraced her steps. ‘Now make up, and forget you saw me.’ Pivoting, Ivyanne hurried out of the room, running smack into Remi.

  ‘Hey!’ Remi’s eyes were wide, her red hair in disarray. ‘I was just coming to make sure that Lee and Chase weren’t killing each other!’

  ‘I handled it.’ Ivyanne said, with a brief smile.

  Remi sank back against the wall, looking perplexed. ‘Really? Chase?’

  ‘He was freaking out.’

  Remi pushed off the wall, and tossed her snarled red braid over her shoulder. ‘I wish we could do Lincoln too, but Marcus polices us pretty strictly about that. About both him and his dad. Not that we ever really have need of it-we’re careful and they’re even-tempered….usually.’

  Ivyanne was relieved to hear that there was some kind of system in place to prevent the mers completely taking advantage of the humans they worked for. ‘Well I’m princess, so as far as Chase goes, I’m overruling Marcus tonight-it’s either siren or stroke, so I did him a favor.’ She smiled. ‘And as for Link, well, everyone’s entitled to a bad mood every now and then, aren’t they?’ Ivyanne silently surmised that if she cared for Lincoln at all, she should piss him off every chance she got, and shatter the rose-colored glasses he viewed her through.

  The doors swung open. Lincoln appeared. His narrowed eyes moved from Remi, to her, and he frowned. ‘Are you two seriously just standing there while I do your jobs for you?!’

  Ivyanne’s stomach flipped. So much for the ‘piss him off’ plan. His anxiety distressed her, and Ivyanne still wasn’t used to being in someone’s bad books. ‘Sorry Link, we’re just coming up with a battle plan.’

  ‘I’m going to clear, Ivyanne’s going to bus, and you can work the register while Livi takes orders.’ Remi said quickly, patting him on the shoulder as she passed him by.

  ‘Well get to it.’ He snapped, locking his eyes on Ivyanne as she hurried past. ‘Your boyfriend is probably counting the seconds until you show up, remember? And I don’t think he’s used to being lonely.’

  Ivyanne froze, stricken. ‘Lincoln what’s gotten into you tonight? I had no intention of going anywhere after my shift but back to my room!’

  Lincoln paused, frowning at her with distrust. ‘Really?’

  ‘Really.’ She said emphatically, then added: ‘Not that it’s your business, sir, but no.’

  He frowned at the reproach in her tone. ‘Yeah well, he certainly thinks otherwise.’

  ‘Well he can think what he wants-you too. But do not drag me across the coals for it!’ Ivyanne snapped, pushing past him. ‘Excuse me.’ As she marched back into the dining room, she felt her fingers tremble with anger. Tristan was a dead man, and once she buried him, she was seriously considering throwing Link in after.

  19.

  Ivyanne barged into Tristan's room the moment she knocked off-not bothering to go for her nightly swim. It was raining too much-heading out in it would look suspicious. Besides, there was lightning, and even she was vulnerable to that.

  And thirdly, she was in the mood to be mad.

  When she swept in the room, half-drenched and shaking, Tristan looked up from the television and smiled as though he’d been expecting her.

  ‘Hey beautiful!’ The blue light from the television was reflecting off his fair hair. ‘How was your night?’

  Ivyanne reached into her sagging apron, removed the two bound mud crabs she’d absconded with and placed them on the table top before her. She’d worked so hard to develop composure in the face of so much friction, but the rainy, perplexing day was the last straw. She was out of tolerance. ‘What did you say to my boss?!’

  Tristan’s eyes widened as he regarded the live crustaceans on his perfectly clean table before gaping up at her. ‘Is this your version of bringing a man flowers? I already ate, but it works.’

  Ivyanne scowled at him. ‘They’re females. I just rescued them from the tank. Figured you’re used to dealing with women with crabs so you could see that they get where they need to go.’

  Tristan chuckled. ‘Ouch!’

  Ivyanne crossed her arms. ‘Seriously...what did you say to my boss, Loveridge?’

  Tristan smirked. ‘He told you about our talk, huh?’

  ‘All he’ll tell me is that you said I was coming over. And I wanna know why you said it, when we had no arrangement. Aren’t things in my life stressful enough without you trying to get under my boss’s skin to boot?’

  ‘Okay first off-stop dripping water and aquarium filth all over the place-it’s not cool.’ Tristan got to his feet, went to the sink and came back with a rag and a tea towel. As he continued to talk, he set the crabs gingerly on the dishcloth and began mopping up the water with the rag. ‘And secondly, Link sought me out to start trouble, so he can’t complain that he got some back.’

  Ivyanne hesitated, putting her rage on hold. ‘He started an argument with you?’

  ‘Yes.’ Tristan said, taking the cloth to the sink and rinsing it before ringing it out. He then put the plug in the sink and filled it with water-probably for the crabs. ‘Princess he came all he way down to the beach just to give me a hard time. How crazy is that? He’s lucky I didn’t tow him out past the shark nets and dump his cocky ass there!’

  ‘It’s just so unlike him!’ Ivyanne exclaimed.

  ‘Actually no, he’s sort of been a smart-ass since we first met.’ Tristan countered, reaching for a mop and shooing her feet away while he dried the area beneath her. His fastidious cleaning was almost enough to get a giggle out of her. ‘He needed to be put in his place, so I handled it.’

  ‘How?’ Ivyanne asked, stepping aside. She couldn’t fathom what would drive mild-mannered Lincoln to pick a fight with Tristan-who was twice his size and a high-paying guest. ‘He’s really mad!’

  Tristan rested the mop against the wall and crossed to the en suite. When he came back thirty seconds later, he tossed her a large fluffy towel. ‘Like you already said- I just happened to mention how I was looking forward to you coming over after you clocked out.’

  ‘But I never said that!’ Ivyanne protested.

  Tristan’s hand snaked out and wrapped around her wrist, tugging her to his bare chest, his eyes shining. ‘And yet here you are. I must be psychic, hmm?’

  She pushed off him, trying to ignore how warm and hard he was. ‘It’s hardly the moment, you know. I’m pretty pissed off.’

  ‘That’s okay. Angry sex is the best kind.’ He tugged her closer by her apron. ‘I can’t wait to show you.’

  ‘So long as we don’t rumple the bedspread in the process?’ She asked wryly, smacking his hand away. It was hard to maintain her anger when he was so flippant towards it.

  ‘Oh I can deal with a messy bed...for awhile.’ Tristan joked. ‘I rock hospital corners.’

  Ivyanne rolled her eyes and stepped back so that the table acted like a shield between them. The levity between them didn’t change the fact that Lincoln was stricken, and that hurt her. The memory of his angry face instantly sobered her. ‘I don’t like you upsetting my boss. Even if you think he’s asking for it.’

  ‘I know. And I didn’t want to-but he pu
shed too hard.’ Tristan threw himself back on the be and wriggled up to the pillows, apparently giving up on his seduction. Still, he didn’t need to actively touch her to be seductive- just sitting there showcasing his sculpted and tawny physique in the dim light was enough to make her a little light headed. His smile drew her eyes to his mouth and she felt herself press her own together in reflex, suddenly needing pressure to alleviate the ache. ‘Why does it bother you so much though?’

  Ivyanne shrugged. ‘He was upset, and that makes him hard to work with. Isn’t that a no-brainer?’

  ‘Maybe to someone with no brain. But there’s more to it than that.’ Tristan folded his arms behind his head. ‘You barged in here so sure that Lincoln had been wronged, and then after learning otherwise, declared that it wasn’t like him. Which leaves the burning question...how much time have you spent thinking about what Lincoln Grey is like?’

  Ivyanne turned her face away, but she could feel his pointed stare slicing through her façade. For all of the rumors celebrating Tristan Loveridge’s various strengths, she’d forgotten the most important one of all-that his intelligence was equalled by no other, and his intuition was razor sharp. ‘Not much...’

  ‘Bullshit.’ The bed creaked under her as Tristan sat up. ‘You’re kind of into him too, aren’t you?’

  Ivyanne felt herself frost over. She’d already had to lie to Ardhi. Did she have to lie to Tristan now too? Or should she just reveal all?

  When Tristan spoke again, his voice was low. ‘Am I pursuing a girl who’s completely oblivious to me, Ivyanne? Because if I’m wasting my time, I need to swim out of the rip here.’

  ‘No!’ The word blew across the room where she knew it would cause as much chaos as a tornado. Tristan’s eyes widened, so he was as clearly surprised by her vehemence as she was. Ivyanne followed the word, circling the table, but came to a hesitant halt at the side of his bed-unsure of where to go from there.