by S. K Munt
However, that had been when they were engaged-he was trying to impress her again now and prove himself a king-why not take advantage of that while she could? Was it being manipulative if she was acting on behalf of the environment, not herself?
And do I really care? She wondered, a small smile turning her lips up. It was the mermaid way-Environment first, personal life after. She had the means to manipulate, so why not for the love of the ocean? A stolen kiss or two, a batt of the eyelids-and she could have the turtles of Seaview out of danger for decades to come!
Ivyanne’s smile grew wider as she realized what good shape her mother and father had left the kingdom’s affairs in. The battle to assist the environment had made such progress over the past ten years, that Ivyanne knew for sure that it was time to focus the mer attention back on the mers. She especially needed to rectify the Marked family problem-far too many Marked children were growing old, alone, and it was a waste. She wanted to put a cap on the age-limit at fifty years.
Ivyanne made a note to bring it up with some of the parties concerned for feedback, and underlined it, before closing the book and turning out the lights, not looking at Ardhi’s book, knowing the tiny, old-fashioned handwriting wouldn’t be translated by her blurry gaze now.
She made her way across the room, smiling fondly at the dramatic space. She’d acted like a queen after most of the initial moving in had been done and had taken over the decorating for the two spaces she was going to use the most-the library, and her bedroom-leaving the others to do most of the heavy lifting. A silver wrought iron bed sat against the feature treated wall which was inlaid with mauve wallpaper and metallic leaf-like flecks. The bed itself had a headboard and foot rail curved into delicate wave-like shapes, and the whole thing was draped with luxurious white linens and finished with a mauve and gold bedspread that picked out the colors in the walls. The room was lit by golden candelabras and lamps scattered about, on end tables, fixed to the walls-one giant candelabra standing next to the bay window which opened out to the ocean. There was a balcony there, but Ivyanne had been ordered to stay off it-it wouldn’t do for Ardhi to swim by and spy her, but she liked to leave the doors open so the ocean breezes would blow through the white curtains and fill her space with the scent of the sea.
Her furniture taste was eclectic and the room showcased this, the silver bed was contrasted by two antique golden, upholstered chairs and a tall boy that had been in the family for centuries-furniture her parents had favored. But instead of clashing, it made the space glitter in the soft light.
Saraya kept the vases on all surfaces filled with flowers-they were still delivered daily in respect for her parents-and Ivyanne cherished them. Their fresh scent reminding her that life continued even after a heart had been stopped. The flowers softened the room, keeping it from becoming to cold from all of the steel and iron. It was a pretty, feminine space, and Ivyanne didn’t mind being barricaded so long as she had it to retreat to.
It was a romantic space too-a room built to make love in, the high ceilings and silver parquetry flooring needing the sounds of giggles and whispers to resonate. The moment she crawled into that big, empty bed, she started thinking about how much she missed cuddling Lincoln. And cuddling Lincoln made her think of sleeping with Lincoln, and sleeping with Lincoln brought her round to sleeping with Tristan.
She looked over at her clock and smiled. It was ten fifty nine. Her cheeks began to warm up, so she pulled a pillow over her face and squealed into it, knowing that acting on Tristan’s suggestion to think of him as he thought of her, was as dangerous as following a trail of blood through dusky water.
Still, her skin was burning, her nerves tingling. The sheets felt like silk against her bare legs and she moved them, enjoying the sensation, luxuriating it. Then she saw Lincoln’s face in her mind, her lips went numb, remembering the touch of his. She pressed her fingers to her lips and allowed her hand to drift down her chin, along her neck, and then across the rise of her breasts, where both boys had melted her with kisses at some point.
Then the phone rang, and Ivyanne flinched, feeling like she’d been caught. It was on her nightstand and when she rolled to check the caller I.D, blushed when she saw it was Tristan. With a shaking hand, she answered it.
‘What are you doing?’ she asked softly, convinced the entire street could hear her, and was aware of what she was doing.
‘I figured you’d need me to guide you through this….’ his voice was as silken as her sheets. ‘I’m in bed, naked, and thinking about you already...’
Ivyanne’s toes twitched. She could picture him too easily. ‘This is so bad,’ she whispered.
‘It’s not,’ he assured her. ‘It’s perfectly legal.’
‘But Lincoln….’
Tristan chuckled. ‘This is a fantasy, my love. There is no Lincoln, and no guilt. It’s just you and me, and I’ve snuck into your bedroom and locked the door behind me….’
Tristan’s voice was low and deep and completely hypnotic. His smooth Californian accent coupled with the remnants of his European upbringing made for a heart-pounding combination. Ivyanne squirmed, her eyes flicking over to the door, making sure it stayed firmly closed.
‘You better not,’ she said softly.
‘Only a fantasy,’ Tristan reminded her. ‘But even in my mind, you’re still my shy, nervous Ivyanne.’ His voice was soft. ‘You turn on your side and pretend to be asleep, but I slip under the covers behind you and hold you tight against me….
Ivyanne groaned and rolled onto her side, realizing that this was going to be a very brief call. His accent was going to make her come apart in mere seconds.
*
‘Good morning!’ Tristan bellowed the next morning, an ear to ear smile stretching his cheeks. He was still giddy from his triumph the night before, too happy to even care that Lincoln and Ivyanne were standing at the fridge together, their skin gleaming in the rosy glow of the sunrise streaming through the window. He’d been humming along to ‘Lips of an angel’ all morning.
‘Morning,’ Lincoln said, looking more alert than Tristan had expected a bartender to appear at six a.m. His hair was wet too-had he swum already?
Ivyanne glanced over at Tristan, her complexion flushed, her eyes sparkling, albeit incredibly self conscious. ‘Hey,’ she said softly.
Tristan approached her with a knowing grin. ‘Did you sleep well?’
A sly smile slid across her features. ‘Better than I have been, thank you.’ She turned back to the fridge. ‘There it is Link-orange and passionfruit.’
Tristan came up behind her, unable to stop himself from resting a hand on her shoulder. ‘Mmm... I’m thirsty too.’ He continued singing very softly to the very telling lyrics about a couple having a phone affair.
Ivyanne turned and shot him a withering look, but Tristan returned her expression with a grin. She was embarrassed, and he was loving it. The days off her being able to shrug off his every remark and action were clearly in the past. When Lincoln put his hand on her shoulder, she flinched.
‘You wanted the grapefruit, right?’ He didn’t look up from the fridge.
Ivyanne nodded weakly. ‘Uh.. yeah..’ she gazed down at Tristan’s waist, and he could feel the heat of her gaze. Tristan was enjoying her wandering eye, but suddenly, felt himself pulled up against her, like some unseen force had yanked him into her space.
Ivyanne cried out, her eyes widening, while Tristan’s skin went numb. He tried to push himself off her, to step backwards, but couldn’t.
‘What the-’
‘Hey!’ Lincoln protested. He’d turned away again. ‘No shoving guys, I’m getting there, and this fridge is huge!’
Tristan barely heard him. He was gaping at Ivyanne, asking questions with his eyes as he fought to draw a breath.
What just happened?!
‘That wasn’t me,’ he said slowly, frowning. ‘Did you-’
‘Sorry I’m uh, clumsy…. you guys can grab the juices, I’m getting hot-I mean, cold
... from the fridge….’ Ivyanne pressed her hand against him and inched out from between them, looking rattled. Whatever force had been holding him there, released suddenly, and Tristan could breath again.
‘Here,’ Lincoln said. ‘Want to cut those up?’
‘Sure.’ Tristan took the grapefruit bag from Lincoln, walking it to the kitchen bench and pulling a knife off the magnet plate from the wall. There was a slight moment of struggle as the magnet wrestled for the knife, and he turned to Ivyanne, who had sat at the kitchen table and was watching him with wary eyes. He yanked the knife off and stared at her, contemplating what had just transpired, and her bizarre reaction to it.
It wasn’t in his head. He hadn’t meant to press himself to Ivyanne-he had been pulled to her without purposefully moving. He had been the knife, and she had been the magnet. Was it possible she had some power he wasn’t aware of?
Ivyanne had always had a magnetic personality, drawing people to her without even trying-but what if she tried? What if she focused on that? And if she could-how long had she known she could do it for? He thought about the look on her face-it hadn’t been surprised, but embarrassed. She knew something was up!
‘What time are you heading back today?’ Lincoln interrupted his thoughts, still perusing the contents of the giant refrigerator. But he looked back to address Tristan.
‘My flight is at eleven.’ Tristan said, already knowing he was going to reschedule. Garridan wanted to have a discussion with him and Lincoln about something mysterious, and he wanted to talk to Ivyanne after. ‘You?’
‘I told Adele I’d be back by lunch. Apparently, we have a fumigation crisis.’
‘Oh...ick.’ Ivyanne commented. ‘Please don’t say spiders?’
‘Nah it’s summer...these pain in the ass little cockroaches.’
‘Ahh those. Yes we get them every time we unpack.’
‘Yep. The theory is that Lydia’s work in the function room with all of those cardboard boxes started something. We may have to shut down for the weekend and call someone in.’
‘Won’t that cost you?’ Tristan asked. ‘Canceling bookings?’
But Lincoln shook his head. ‘Nah. We only have two bookings for this weekend-I’ll offer them a better room if they switch to next weekend, and both are from Rockhampton so it’s not like they’re traveling really far.’
‘Why so quiet?’ Ivyanne asked.
‘Oh there’s that big festival up in Townsville that draws the crowds this week. It nails me every year. But this time, I suppose it’s good timing.’ He shut the fridge and moved to the pantry. ‘Do you have any tea around Ivyanne?’
‘Yeah in those pearl canisters. Since when do you drink tea?’
‘Since about two weeks ago when a coffee damn near had me shaking.’
‘Hmmm….and here I was thinking we could have one together.’
‘Sorry.’ Lincoln said. ‘I’ll make you a tea, but I don’t need one more temptation under my nose than I already have.’
Tristan snorted, even though he was only half-listening.
‘I knew you’d feel me brother,’ Lincoln cracked making a move towards the end of the kitchen. Tristan watched him move, thinking how much more relaxed Lincoln was in their company now. Was that because he’d realized that impatience and clinginess was getting him nowhere, or because Ivyanne had stopped pulling them closer in her ambivalence towards her romantic life? He looked back to the queen and tested the weight of the knife in his hand, having an idea.
‘Hey…. Ivyanne?’
‘Yeah..?’ She asked warily.
‘Catch.’ Without further warning, Tristan tossed the paring knife in her direction-not straight at her, he didn’t want to kill her, but close enough to be within reach.
Ivyanne’s eyes widened but her hand shot out. The small knife, which had been spinning through the air, blade over handle, suddenly went vertical and flew into her waiting palm, handle down, no damage done.
Ivyanne stared at it, holding the knife suspended where she’d caught it, a foot out from her left hand side, the color draining from her face.
Tristan’s jaw fell open. There was ninja, and then there was mystic. Ivyanne Court, was clearly one of them and as far as he knew, she’d never trained a day in her life.
‘Holy-’
But Ivyanne’s panicked eyes locked on his, shaking her head gently, her other finger coming to her lips. She looked over at Lincoln, put the knife down, and then scowled at Tristan.
‘Later,’ she mouthed. ‘We’ll discuss it later.’
Tristan rolled his eyes, grabbed another knife, then placed it on the chopping board, gathering his wits. He didn’t know why Ivyanne didn’t want Lincoln to know, but he didn’t mind keeping the secret. It was nice, in fact, to know something about her that no one else apparently did.
But how long had she known for? And if she didn’t want Lincoln to know, was it because Tristan was the only man she’d desired enough to draw him in with her mind? It was a scintillating thought. He couldn’t wait to get her alone and learn more.
*
Ardhi knelt on the freshly turned soil and fingered the stalk of lavender which had been lain upon the mound, feeling tears spring to his eyes unbidden.
‘I’m sorry,’ he whispered. ‘For what I did, and from what I’m going to have to do to dig myself out of this mess.’ His legs were filling with lactic acid from being crouched that way, but he ignored them, welcoming the pain. He closed his eyes, recalling those final moments with Lux and the way she’d shot harsh words at him like poisoned arrows. It shouldn’t have shocked him so-Lux had always been high handed on certain morality issues-but why had she made Tristan’s life one of those issues?
All Ardhi had ever wanted in life was a bit of loyalty! Lux, Ivyanne, Pintang and Ash-they were the only people he’d counted on, and yet they were the ones who had let him down the most! And on the behalf of the man he hated the most! A tear rolled down his cheek, the pain as fresh as the tilled soil.
‘Why did you make me do it?’ He asked her softly, his remorse boiling away and leaving anger behind. ‘Why weren’t you there like I needed you to be?!’’
But the dead were the dead, the earth was merely soil-and the decaying body someone had properly buried had no response for him.
‘They’re definitely gone!’ Sherri hissed, approaching from behind and crackling leaves under her bare feet. ‘The windows are all boarded up-even upstairs. If there’s anyone living inside, they’re either really morbid or one of the undead.’
‘Then why are you whispering?’ Ardhi asked in a normal tone of voice. He stood, brushing a tear from his cheek as he rose.
‘Well, you said they’d be on the look-out-’
‘Not where they’ve deserted. Just The Seaview and wherever else they’ve congregated.’ Ardhi squinted into the morning sunlight, feeling an eerie shifting sensation inside his soul as his body soaked up the loneliness hanging over the island like a funeral shroud, which he supposed was accurate enough. After all, he’d taken the lives of three of the people staying in that house-how could it’s energy not be affected by that?
‘Well like I said, I strolled right through the centre of that place and there was no sign of Ivyanne. Or Lincoln. Just that Hawaiian couple and that bitch Adele.’
Ardhi snorted. ‘Bane and Grace are siblings, not a couple Sherri.’
‘Does it matter what they are? Sherri asked dryly, wringing inky black water out of her new, jet black hair extensions. ‘It’s not like we’re going to be interacting with them socially or anything. And while we’re on that subject-are you going to make me a friend soon, or are you actually going to step up, and put out before I lose my fucking mind?’
‘You had someone in New Zealand,’ he mumbled blushing from her idiotic proposition.
‘Yeah-a week and a half ago. Whoop de-do! I want someone I can keep, Ardhi, like you promised!’
He rolled his eyes. ‘We’ll get there Sherri but we came back here for a
reason! Where are your priorities?’
‘Not feeling like there’s a sinkhole inside me is a priority!’ Sherri threw her hands up. ‘I can’t keep living like this! You love the isolation but I don’t! I followed you because you swore that I wouldn’t be lonely anymore-but I am! All the time!’
‘You’re not the only lonely one!’
‘And you’re not the only hurt one!’ Tears sprang to her eyes. ‘You brought me here to steal Lincoln’s heart but he stole mine! Now I’m lonely and in pain! What the Marked system has inflicted upon you, you’ve inflicted upon me-only you have the power to make it better by throwing a rebound guy my way and you won’t because you’re too self-involved to take time out of your vengeance schedule!’
Ardhi was sobered by that. ‘I didn’t realize that your feelings for Lincoln ran that deep, Sherri. You only knew him a few weeks.’
‘Yeah well maybe it’s the hormones talking…’ she conceded. ‘But you gave me those too! If I think of him a certain way, and feel for him a certain way-then what does it matter how real it is? Hurt is hurt!’ She clasped her hands together, hazel eyes darkened by misery. ‘Ardhi this new plan of yours is insane and I hate it! That guy creeps me out to no end but I’m here because you need me. So please give me what I need in return!’ Her eyes were pleading with him. ‘You’ve never made love so you don’t know what I’m missing, and you don’t understand how cathartic it can be-just to connect with someone, just to be touched..’
Ardhi turned away from Sherri’s yearning expression, unable to bear seeing her looking as raw as he felt. Sherri had been good to him-and loyal-but he knew that even the strongest bonds could be snapped by too much tension, and he couldn’t risk losing her yet. Not until he had a stronger ally onside anyway-then he’d be untouchable and if she wanted to leave him, which he suspected she did, that would be okay.
‘We’ll search the house,’ he said softly. ‘If the crown is here, we’ll go back to New Zealand where I can return it to it’s rightful owner- and then I’ll turn someone for you to keep you company while I finish this alone.’
‘And if it’s not here?’ Sherri asked quietly.