by S. K Munt
‘Please hurry.’ He whispered, as he slipped into darkness once more. ‘I need her...I need Ivanna.’
*
‘Okay,’ he should be more comfortable now if you want to speak with him.’ Joyce said, pulling off her rubber gloves and tossing them into the overflowing trash. ‘He’s lost a bit of blood, a fatal amount for a human, but he’ll recover.’ She patted Ivyanne’s shoulder. ‘You can stop worrying now.’
‘Thank you.’ Ivyanne said, her eyes not leaving Link’s closed ones as she heard Joyce make her way to the door. However the idea of not worrying was almost comical to her. Of all the guards who had to have gotten hurt-why both men she cared for in one night?
On the bed, Lincoln’s body twitched.
‘Ivyanne?’ he whispered through dry lips.
‘I’m here.’ She stood up and leaned over him, eyes flicking over his well bandaged arm to the rest of his exposed skin, seeing that some of his color had returned in the half an hour since they’d taken him into the dining room. She exhaled a breath she hadn’t known she was holding and squeezed his left hand. ‘Hey….’
Lincoln’s brown eyes lifted to hers, and the corners of his mouth curved in a smile. ‘Good. Then I feel better already.’
‘Silly. I’ve been here the whole time.’
‘Yeah well I can see you now. Your face is better than morphine for pain.’
Ivyanne pressed her lips against his clammy forehead, trying not to think of the other places her lips had been that evening-especially as he was being shot. The guilt was more crippling than any emotion she’d ever experienced before, and it wasn’t just one- sided guilt either. Tristan’s agonized face was still clear in her mind, as was the sense of loss she’d felt when he’d released her from his arms and dressed her in her robe while she’d sobbed over another man.
For two hours they’d been waiting for Adele to drive Lincoln home, and Ivyanne had shut down in that time, beside herself with anxiety, terrified that she wasn’t enough-enough of a ruler or a lover to undo the damage which had been done. And how could she ever be enough for both men? That was the point wasn’t it? She had to give all of herself to one.
‘How are you feeling?’
‘Okay. A bit woozy and weak but I can’t feel the pain... what did Joyce give me?’
‘Poison.’ Ivyanne said quickly. ‘The Irukanji one we tried to overdose Ardhi on. Just a drop-it acts like a numbing agent for awhile.’ She caressed his face. ‘It should take the edge off your pain, and even make you feel calmer.’
‘Oh.’ Lincoln said, squeezing her hand. ‘Thank you.’ His eyes raked her up and down. ‘Are you okay? You’ve got blood on you as well.’
Ivyanne looked down at the clothes she had changed into, seeing that there were a few splatters of blood on her shirt. ‘It’s yours. And now that I see you’re okay-I’m much better.’ She pressed her forehead to their interlaced fingers. ‘I thought-’
‘So did I.’ Lincoln whispered.
She sobbed. ‘You scared me to death Link!’
‘I know honey, I’m sorry.’ Lincoln shook his head. ‘It all happened so fast….’
‘But you think it was Sherri?’ Ivyanne asked, trying to put together the scraps of information she’d gleaned from Grace and Adele when they’d arrived with Lincoln, and the few things Lincoln had muttered as he’d slipped in and out of consciousness-but they’d all been vague.
Lincoln nodded. ‘I know it was. She didn’t look like herself...she has long black hair now. A wig maybe? But she was the same height and everything-same eyes. And I remember her pissed-off expression well.’
‘Well...Ardhi said he’d take something precious from me so I guess you’re number has been up for awhile, huh?’
‘What do you mean; Aware of us living here? Since when?’
Ivyanne pressed his hair out of his eyes and kissed his clammy forehead. ‘Ardhi came here tonight.’
‘He what?! While I was-’ Lincoln fought to sit up but Ivyanne pushed him back down with one hand.
‘I’m fine.’ She over-emphasized both words. ‘It’s a long story and I’ll fill you in when you’re less drugged. But for now, I think it’s safe to assume that tonight was a synchronized attack.’
But Lincoln shook his head. ‘No it wasn’t.’ Scared, dark eyes appraised her. ‘Sherri fired at her in hot blood, Ivyanne. There was nothing pre-meditated about it.’
Ivyanne raised an eyebrow. ‘Her? Sherri wasn’t aiming for you?’
‘No.’ Lincoln said softly. ‘She was aiming for Grace.’
Ivyanne laughed. ‘Okay now I know you’re off your face on jellyfish juice. Sherri barely even knows Grace.’ She raised their hands to her lips and kissed them, giving him a tender smile. ‘You’re just confused, is all. The only motivation Sherri would have to shoot any woman other than myself or Adele is-’ Comprehension slammed into Ivyanne’s stomach with the force of a freight train. She dropped Lincoln’s hand and recoiled, both hands cupping her mouth to hold in a surprised exclamation.
Lincoln’s expression finished her broken sentence. He looked like guilt had frightened him to death. ‘Ivyanne I-’ he grimaced and dropped his chin to his chest, bringing his hand up to shield his eyes. ‘God...there’s nothing I can say…’
The room was silent save the ticking of an unseen clock. Ivyanne couldn’t bear it. She dropped her hands and asked in a thin voice: ‘Lincoln...I’m on the verge of freaking out here. What exactly are you telling me?’
‘We kissed.’ Lincoln whispered the admission. ‘That’s when Sherri jumped out-she screamed something that sounded like :‘What do you think you’re doing?’ And then pointed the pistol at Grace. So I pushed her out of the way and was hit instead.’
Ivyanne felt that same heavy-lightness in her extremities again, like the blood in her body had retreated to her chest to keep her racing heart fueled.
‘You almost died for someone else?’ She swallowed again, wishing she could only picture the beautiful heroic frame of the picture he was painting, not the heartbreaking canvass in focus. ‘That was...brave Link. A bit uh,’ her nose tingled at the idea of him giving his life for someone else. ‘A bit rash. But brave.’
Lincoln shook his head rapidly, still hiding his face. ‘I’m sorry baby! I don’t know what’s gotten into me, or why I keep messing up the way I do! I was pushing Grace off all weekend-even ten minutes before that!’
‘So what changed?’ Ivyanne asked softly.
Lincoln threw his hands out, revealing his anguished expression. ‘Well we were celebrating. I mean, we were terrified when we thought Michael was dead, but after she helped me revive him, I was so grateful to her! And then when we saw the scales on his legs and realized I’d turned him, it was like: ‘Whoa!’ You know? Total emotional roller coaster!’
Ivyanne’s eyebrows lifted, her heart catching somewhere between agony and hope. ‘You turned Michael Donnelley?!!!’ She demanded, confounded.
Lincoln looked at her. ‘No one told you?’
Ivyanne shook her head. ‘I’ve been in here with Joyce since you showed up!’
‘Oh. Well, yeah I did…I can do it, after all.’ Ivyanne could see pride warring for place on his face only to be beaten back by guilt before he went on: ‘Anyway we were all hyper and gathered out on the hill to pow-wow about it for a few minutes before Remi took Michael home. But when everyone went inside, it was just Grace and I left and...’ He paused. ‘That’s when she said she was going to leave me alone…because being able to turn makes me, uh…’
‘Really fucking important.’ Ivyanne said softly, understanding at once. ‘More eligible than Tristan for king.’
Lincoln’s lips twitched but he was successful in beating the smile back. He ran his hand through his hair and averted his eyes. ‘Well...that was her theory and I was in no hurry to de-bunk it.’ He shook his head. ‘Anyway, Grace threw in the towel right then and there-’
‘And you didn’t want her to?’ Ivyanne asked in a voice as small as she fe
lt. She knew she had no right to demand explanations to an infraction that was dwarfed by her own, but she knew she needed to understand it in order to deal with it accordingly.
Lincoln’s eyes widened. ‘No! No... it wasn’t like that. It was a goodbye thing! I was so relieved that she was going to back off that I offered it as closure. Besides,’ some color was returning swiftly to his cheeks. ‘I wanted to kiss someone, Ivyanne. You weren’t there, I was in the mood to celebrate, she was a lot of the reason why and she’s not exactly troll-like...’
Ivyanne felt jealousy rise up in side her. ‘No,’ she said quietly. ‘She’s not.’
‘It was only a few seconds, I swear that to you…’ Lincoln had begun bunching up the bed sheet with his fists. ‘And then Sherri jumped out-’
Ivyanne wasn’t ready to hear any more. There were so many conflicting emotions racing through her that she couldn’t tell which overbalanced the others more. Hurt, jealousy, guilt, horror, possessiveness, anger, relief, pain... guilt. And more guilt. Ivyanne turned away, trying to drag a breath through her collapsed lungs, clutching her hair at her temples and squeezing her eyes against an imagined slideshow of the weekend’s events-things she had seen, and things she thankfully had not but could picture all the same.
But the one she kept coming back to was Tristan onscreen, naked, crooking his finger at her-and of her traitorous body’s reaction to that fleeting moment. She inhaled sharply, so sharply that her lungs contracted painfully again.
‘Baby….!’ Lincoln’s voice was practically a wail. ‘Ivyanne please god don’t cry. I deserved this bullet-don’t think I don’t know that! Grace doesn’t mean anything to me!If I could take kissing her back, I would!’
Ivyanne moved to the buffet and picked up the gun Price had left behind, fingering it gently, testing it’s weight in her hand. Behind her, Lincoln began to sob, and it tore a hole through her.
He kissed Grace. Grace Londeree. That beautiful, flawless, innocent…. Ivyanne turned and walked back to Lincoln, seeing immediately that he had draped his good arm across his eyes, and was crying brokenly. The sight wrecked her. She approached him, lifted the gun, and placed it in his palm, wrapping his fingers around it.
Lincoln lowered his arm, staring at the gun with confusion, before looking up at her in bewilderment, sniffling. ‘You want me to shoot myself?’
Ivyanne took a step back and placed a hand on her chest. ‘No,’ she choked out. ‘Me. Shoot me. Here.’
Lincoln’s eyes widened. ‘Ivyanne I know I’ve hurt you but you need to-’
‘Not for that,’ she said. ‘I mean-this isn’t about you. This is about me, and the things I can’t take back.’ She drew in the deepest breath she could. ‘I was with Tristan tonight, Link. In my room.’ Her throat tried to close over the words but she squeezed them out. ‘I was in bed with him, while you were with Grace. So if you deserve a gunshot to the arm, clearly I deserve one right through the heart.’
All the color drained from Lincoln’s face. ‘You slept with him?’
Ivyanne shrugged. ‘The fact that I can’t answer with a definite yes or no doesn’t really matter, does it?’ She swallowed. ‘The point is, that he and I were together tonight. Maybe more together then we’ve ever really been.’
Lincoln’s head fell back so he could contemplate the ceiling-and Ivyanne could see him blinking back tears. The the gun clattered to the floor.
‘Were you making a choice?’ His voice was both wooden and gravelly.
‘Yes,’ she said softly. ‘I was choosing to be weak, to give my body what it wanted.’
Lincoln turned to stare at her, his expression blank. ‘You’re body? Not your heart?’
Ivyanne had never felt so uncomfortable in her own skin. It was tempting to retract her heart from the situation to comfort Lincoln, but Tristan had fought hard to make her see that she truly loved him-and he’d won. Writing their coupling as sheer lust after the fact would be deceitful to both men.
‘The two things aren’t mutually exclusive anymore, sweetheart,’ she said softly. ‘I can’t give one without the other.’ She wiped at her own tears. ‘But I was in it to get laid, not engaged, if that helps.’
‘By the smallest margin known to man or mer…’ Lincoln turned his tear-streaked face to hers. ‘I knew it. When we spoke yesterday-I could feel it, in my bones. You were calling to apologize in advance.’
Ivyanne squeezed her eyes shut and put a hand to the sick feeling in her gut, but it wouldn’t be rubbed away. ‘Maybe you’re right. All I know is that I’m losing my mind. The water’s not cutting it, Pintang’s beautiful food isn’t cutting it... I just wanted to feel the weight of a man’s body on top of me, without the weight of his expectations, and Tristan promised to deliver that.’ She sighed, opening her eyes and sinking back onto the chair. ‘Plus, I got him hurt tonight. In fact, I put everyone’s lives in serious jeopardy and it reminded me of when he came back and my emotions, hormones, fears-it all just snowballed. The bottom line is that I needed him-desperately. And yet when the phone call came, about you, I-’ her face contorted and she shook her head, unable to speak.
Lincoln pushed himself up, still frowning. ‘It fucking hurts, you know.’
Ivyanne looked down at her feet. ‘I know.’
‘Were you going to tell me?’
Ivyanne shrugged. ‘Seems likely.’
Lincoln sighed. ‘I hate this.’
‘So do I.’ Ivyanne exhaled heavily and regarded him. ‘Lincoln…’
He looked up, his expression blanched. ‘Ivyanne please, I know you’re mad-we both are-but if you tell me that it’s over, I swear to god that I will put that gun to my temple!’
Ivyanne raced forward. ‘I wasn’t going to say that,’ she whispered, holding his face in her hands. ‘I was going to apologize... for everything I’ve done to hurt you. Including tonight-’ she sniffled. ‘And everything I’m probably going to do before this is over. I’ve pushed you away but still won’t let you go and that makes me a monster.’
Lincoln shook his head. ‘No. I’m fucking up all over the shop. With Lux and Sherri...now with Grace... I have absolutely no self-control. And I haven’t from the moment you came back into my life-it’s no wonder you don’t trust me when I’m acting like the man I accuse him of being, and he’s acting like me!’ He looked into her eyes, his expression one of urgency. ‘I’m just so scared. I feel like my self worth is all tied up in you-I can’t lose you.’
Ivyanne wanted to tell him that he wouldn’t, but those words wouldn’t leave her mouth. She pulled his forehead against hers and closed her eyes, her heart a-flutter.
‘I don’t want to lose you either,’ she whispered. ‘Every time I think I can make my mind up, one way or the other, I picture seeing you-either of you-afterwards in someone else’s arms and it makes me feel desolate. To tell you the truth I wish I could keep things exactly as they are-both of you here and in love with me, for always.’
‘With an open door policy?’ Lincoln joked.
Ivyanne chuckled, wiping at her tears. ‘I don’t know about that.’ She lifted her face to his. ‘I just feel like I need years to make this decision-decades. I hate Tristan for putting a ticking clock on this but the truth is, if he hadn’t, lord knows how long this would take me.’ She sighed. ‘I’m so scared of making the wrong choice for the wrong reasons.’
‘There is only one reason.’ Lincoln whispered, his hand slipping to the back of her neck. ‘This one.’ Lincoln’s lips nudged hers. ‘I just need you to stop trying to ignore this and start remembering why you came back to The Seaview in the first place.’
They were kissing straight away, both of their faces wet and salty with tears. Lincoln wrapped his good arm around her waist and pulled her up onto his lap before easing her onto her back and deepening the kiss.
Ivyanne pulled his face closer, her heart expanding in her chest as he filled the void inside her with pure, sweet light.
*
Knock Knock. ‘Ivyanne? Ivyann
e are you still in there?’
Lincoln’s eyes fluttered open to see that it was still incredibly dark outside. He didn’t know what time Ivyanne had gotten up and turned the light off, but judging by the fog clouding his mind, he hadn’t been asleep for long.
Ivyanne sighed gently and Lincoln glanced down at her, noticing that she was still asleep, her exquisite features highlighted by gentle moonlight. He tightened his arm around her and buried his face gratefully into her neck, praying that Garridan would get the hint and leave so as not to disturb the queen. Snuggled up like that in the shadowy room, feeling her breath against his face-it was the happiest he’d been in weeks, and he was in no hurry to have it cut short.
But the door creaked open. Lincoln raised an eyebrow at Garridan, tightening his grip around Ivyanne’s waist. ‘Do you have to come in now?’ Lincoln asked quietly. ‘She’s finally asleep.’
‘I’m sorry but yes.’ Garridan said quickly. His face was in shadow. ‘After everything that’s happened tonight, I need Ivyanne up in her room and safe.’
‘She’s with me.’ Lincoln whispered. ‘I’m a guard. How could she be safer?’
Against his chest, Ivyanne made a slight whining noise and stirred, burying her face in his chest.
‘Well, this room is wide open for one-so we need to move you too.’ He paused. ‘And I’m sorry Lincoln, but we can’t keep you on as a guard anymore.’
Lincoln felt a chill run through him. ‘What?!’ he croaked. ‘No way!’
‘I’m sorry but, uh, yes way. This has nothing to do with your skill Link-we’re all impressed with how you protected Grace tonight.’ Garridan walked a few more steps across the room. ‘Incredibly impressed.’
‘Then this is about Tristan huh?’ Lincoln asked rudely. ‘You just want me out of his way, don’t you? Well if you think I’m going back to Seaview and leaving her here-’
‘Stop it.’ Garridan sounded more weary than cranky. ‘This has nothing to do with a personal agenda and I’m insulted that you’d imply that. I didn’t have to put your name forward in the first place, you know, but I did, to be fair. And for how quickly you found Ivyanne that day she bolted-that took smarts, and we need smarts.’ Garridan reached under Ivyanne and picked her up like she was weightless. ‘This decision was made with you in mind-you-and your newfound ability to create mermaids for us.’