by Hope Collier
“I apologize. I know it’s confusing. You’re so calm and collected about everything.” He smiled at my sigh. “All right, calm about mostly everything. This is new for me. I’ve never had to deal with telling someone they’re part of a mythical world. Actually, it’s been just the opposite. It’s been my duty to hide it. But you’re so composed, just taking it all in. I should’ve expected more of your mother in you.”
“What does my mother have to do with that?” I spoke through a raspy voice.
Gabe reached into the floor and pulled out a liter of water. He removed the lid and handed it to me.
“Thanks.” I lifted the jug to my mouth and drank … and drank. Gabe watched intently. I thought his eyebrows would touch his hairline as I drained the container.
I sighed. “Mmmm, that’s much better.”
“Are you satisfied?” he joked.
“Yes, very.” I ignored his tone, happy to be satiated.
“How close did you say you are to eighteen?”
“Shouldn’t you know?” I challenged. Gabe gave me a sarcastic smile. “This is my third day.”
He scoffed. “The day we met was your birthday?”
I nodded and moved to another topic. “So finish telling me about the different types of nymphs.” The word was becoming easier to say without causing me to giggle like a schoolgirl.
“What do you wish to know?”
“What are the differences between Naiads and Dryads? I mean besides where they live.”
Gabe sat quietly for a moment; conflicting emotion crossed his expression. “Naiads, obviously suited for water, are more streamlined,” he began. “We have smoother skin and fairer complexions and features. For instance our eyes, we all have light colored eyes ranging anywhere from pale green to deep blue and every shade in between. Then of course there’s this.” He lifted his flashlight from yesterday and held it at an angle near his face. Light rays slanted across his irises, the blue reflection reappearing.
“I knew it!” I gasped and forced my focus on the road. “Genetic thing my butt.”
Gabe laughed and clicked the light off. “It’s entirely genetic, I can promise you that.”
“It’s like an animal,” I marveled.
“Yes, very much so. We call it eyeshine,” he said. My eyebrows rose. “Don’t worry, you don’t have it.”
“Why do you?” I asked.
“The same reason as a deer, dog, or fish — to see in the dark. Of course the fish analogy is a little more fitting. We also have an extra layer across our eyes that allow us to see more clearly underwater. We swim as well as anything and faster too.”
“I can sort of imagine that.” I grinned. “I was always the fastest swimmer at camp. It felt unfair though. Swimming didn’t tire me out like it did everyone else.”
“Figures.” Gabe smiled to himself.
“So what else?”
“As you’ve just experienced, we need water, although your experience was quite intense. I can only guess that it’s because everything’s so new. Typically, Naiads can go up to a month before it becomes dire. Our store depletes quickly after that. Not a good situation to be in, but it rarely occurs here.”
“How does it all work? Why can we swim so fast? What are the mechanics of it?” I asked.
“Naiads are like dolphins in a sense. We actually share many similarities. Dolphins have nearly smooth skin, like satin but rubbery. Our skin is very similar that way, only not so rubbery.” He tugged at the skin on the back of his hand. “That’s why we try to avoid getting wet in sight of anyone too close. It’s why I wouldn’t let you touch me at the lake or after you picked me up in Arizona.”
I thought about Gabe diving for the boat keys. “That’s still not funny, by the way.”
He grinned and continued. “The big difference is that when our skin is dry, it very much resembles human skin. No one would ever notice a difference except we aren’t particularly hairy. This creates a more laminar flow by reducing drag in the water. And like dolphins, we shed our skin cells more frequently. I’m sure you’ve noticed how we have very smooth skin. Good for wrinkles.”
My youthful appearance suddenly made a lot more sense.
“Oh, and we heal at an amazing rate, which you witnessed yourself,” he said. I grimaced remembering the incident. “Though our skin isn’t very tough. It doesn’t take as much to damage it. Speaking of which—” Gabe pulled the sleeve of his injured arm up and peeled the bandage away “—it’s all better now. See?”
My mouth fell open at the sight of his unblemished skin. “Why do you still have it bandaged if it’s healed?”
“I hadn’t planned on telling you about any of this. I figured it would kind of give me away if my formerly stitch-worthy arm was all better out of the blue.” He smiled grimly.
I didn’t care to think about that night. “How else are we like dolphins?”
“Naiads have excellent eyesight, both in and out of the water. Our hearing is unmatched. We can detect frequencies much higher and lower than a human and at a greater distance — up to about twenty miles away underwater. Like dolphins, we use something similar to echolocation to position things and similar sounds to communicate. It’s very convenient across long distances. Our sense of touch is quite sensitive.”
His finger trailed down my arm and settled in my palm, tracing lazy circles. I drew a slow breath, my skin warming as I struggled to watch the highway.
“This is incredible,” I managed. “How long can you hold your breath?”
“That is one way that we absolutely differ from our mammalian counterparts,” he said. “You see dolphins, like humans, breathe air. Full Naiads have the ability to stay submerged indefinitely.”
“Indefinitely? As in, you don’t need to resurface to breathe?”
“That’s right.” He grinned. “Even though we don’t breathe, you learn to taste the water, and in this you can actually smell what’s there. We don’t do as well in salt water as fresh, though. The salt water obviously is saltier, denser. It isn’t impossible to draw oxygen from it, but it’s very uncomfortable. Also, the salt tends to be dehydrating — it sort of works the opposite in that way. There are nymphs, Nereids to be exact, that live around the seas, but we don’t have much interaction with them. They’re the most different among the water nymphs.”
“How do you draw oxygen from the water? Do you have gills?” I asked solemnly. I didn’t even want to think about where those would be.
Gabe took one look at my expression and burst out laughing again. “No. No gills!” he promised. “Once again, our skin makes it possible. It works much the same as gills but without the creepy appearance.”
“Where do you think I fit into all of this?” I asked.
“That’s really hard to say,” he considered. “You’re the first hybrid I’ve ever witnessed going through this change. You have to understand that despite the rumors of the insatiably lusty Naiads—” he winked “—it’s uncommon that we have that kind of relationship with humans. It happens on occasion because there aren’t as many male nymphs as female, but even then, the transformation you’re experiencing rarely occurs.”
“So not all half-nymphs go through a change?” I merged onto the main highway as I spoke.
Gabe shook his head with a small grin. “You’re very much the exception, not the rule.”
“Then why do nymphs have relationships with humans at all?” I wondered. “It seems like they’d be sad not to have kids that weren’t extraordinary.”
“Because to some, average is better than nothing.”
I cocked my head in question.
“Children are rare among our kind,” Gabe explained, a touch of sadness in his tone. “The Naiads who choose to live as humans, like your mother for a while, typically can’t stay with the same partner forever. It’s a hard life for those who choose it. Then you throw royalty into the mix, and it gets complicated.”
“Complicated how?”
“It goes back to
the ruling families and how they have their own way of doing things, when there’s no other option, at least.” Gabe shifted uncomfortably in his seat. “Generally speaking though, given the option, males are paired with equal females first. It ensures the bloodline is uncontaminated.”
“What happens if the bloodline is broken?”
Gabe knew what I was alluding to. My mother had more than stepped out of line with her choice. Who knew what lay ahead of me?
“To my knowledge, it’s only happened once before and it nearly started a war,” he said, all traces of humor gone.
I frowned, wondering if that was a result of her actions. “When was this?”
“Well before your mother’s time,” he assured, though his face showed no relief.
“I don’t understand one thing,” I said. “If the bloodline is supposed to stay clean, why would my mom need to marry outside of it? Into another race especially.”
Gabe’s shoulders tensed as silence stretched on.
“There was a treaty,” he eventually spoke, his voice hard.
“What kind of treaty? Why?”
Gabe stared through the windshield, his eyes narrowed against the sun. “Your grandfather’s brother Leith betrayed who knows how many of his own kind. The treaty was created to settle the factions between the Naiads and Dryads.”
“And my mother was a part of that treaty?”
“She would’ve been, yes,” Gabe answered reluctantly.
Disheartened, I concentrated on the passing cars along the interstate. Neither of us spoke much before we reached a small town outside of Memphis. I pulled into a station just off the highway, low on fuel and full on water.
“You should go ahead inside. I’ll take care of the car,” Gabe offered. He smiled softly as he reached across to brush my hair away from my heavy eyelids.
“Thanks,” I said through a yawn. I smiled back then climbed out to hurry inside.
Gabe waited in the driver’s seat as I made it back out. I stared in question.
“You look as if you need a break.” He nodded toward the open passenger’s side.
I didn’t oppose as I slid in and reclined the seat.
***
I awoke enveloped in warmth and surrounded by the scent of cedar and rain. The quilt Gabe used in Arizona covered me. I held it to my nose and breathed in.
Gabe lifted an eyebrow.
“I love your smell.” A dopey grin pulled at my lips. “Thanks for letting me sleep. I feel much better. I don’t know why I’m so tired.”
“It’s part of the change. It gets better. The more time you can spend in natural water will help.” He reached over and pulled my hand from beneath the quilt. “I’m glad you slept well, but I’m happy you’re awake.”
“I guess you’re probably pretty tired, huh? I can drive now if you’d like,” I offered.
He gave a sigh and tucked his palm around my face. “Really, that’s not what I meant.”
I leaned into his hand. It was strange, but also normal, how comfortable it was with Gabe. It felt like we’d always been together. Like the invisible current tied us together in a way that was more than just attraction or chemistry.
“So, where are we?” I idly brushed my lips back and forth across his wrist, pausing to inhale the scent of his skin.
“We’re just outside of Nashville.” He drew an unsteady breath.
“You really didn’t have to drive all this way. Aren’t you tired?”
“Not at the moment.” Gabe eyed my movements intently. “Perhaps we should find a place to spend tonight though.”
The GPS directed us to a hotel overlooking the Cumberland River. A valet greeted opened my door and offered his hand. Gabe studied the doorman attempting to usher us inside. Men in Stetsons and bolo ties nodded as they passed, the heels of their leather boots clacking loudly across the marble foyer. My gaze traced over the lobby as we checked in. High archways and transitional chandeliers colored the room in understated elegance, adding dimension and style to the classic architecture.
“Was the governor’s mansion full?” Gabe murmured as he tipped the bellboy and dropped my luggage inside the door.
“Funny guy, huh?” I teased. “Why don’t you take a nap? You’re looking a little glassy-eyed.”
“I’ll be fine. It isn’t anything a little water won’t fix. Would you care to join me for a late lunch?” Gabe extended his elbow.
I laughed and wound my hand through his arm.
After lunch at the hotel restaurant, we passed the indoor pool. I sighed in longing, wishing it was open.
“You want to swim?” Gabe lifted a brow.
“It says the pool is closed while they replace the floor.” I pointed to the sign. “But if you want to sweet talk the front desk into letting us in, I’m game.”
“I can do better than that.” He glanced around then gave me a devilish grin and flipped the door handle. Somehow it popped open.
Just then, a deep voice carried down the corridor. Gabe grabbed my hand and tugged me inside before anyone could see. Cold tile met my back as Gabe’s body pressed into mine. He held me in the shadows, the voice lingering near the entryway.
My nose brushed against the soft skin at his collarbone. I breathed in and sighed. My fingers, flat against his chiseled torso, began to wander. Just as my heart picked up pace, the voice faded into the background.
“Voila.” He winked and moved away.
I let out an unsteady laugh, and turned my heated face from him, thankful for the dimness of the room.
Gabe turned beside me, staring at the pool. “Unfortunately, this is chemically treated water. It won’t be as fulfilling, but it will refresh you all the same.”
“One small problem,” I said and gestured to my clothing.
“You’re going to allow something so small as no bathing suit stop you?” He stepped to the edge of the pool and yanked his shirt over his head, exposing smooth skin over tight muscle. My eyes widened as he went for the snap on his shorts.
“Perhaps, I should keep these on.” He laughed, his abs tightening, and stole over the ledge into the water.
My gaze followed the water droplets rolling over his shoulders and down the curve of his back. Gabe glanced up and caught me staring. He smiled impishly before motioning with his finger for me to join him.
Remembering to breathe, I worked my shorts away, grateful I’d gone for nice underwear in my shopping trip. Gabe kept his focus on the water, but I felt him watching me from the corner of his eye. Hurrying to remove my top, I slinked into the deep end.
Our party of two swam uninterrupted long enough to feel somewhat reenergized. It wasn’t quite as liberating as I’d hoped, given the confines of the pool wall and the biting taste of chlorine, but it was pleasant nonetheless.
Gabe met me at the shallow end as I resurfaced for a breath. He moved closer; the silky feel of his skin brushed against mine. I slid my hand up his arm and past his shoulder, tracing the ridges and valleys of muscle. On the surface, it didn’t look dissimilar, but to feel, there was a remarkable difference. His skin was soft and smooth, but there was a slippery quality to it now. I imagined him trying to move swiftly through the water. My fingertip swept across my own arm. The skin there felt different somehow but not to the extent as Gabe’s. I wondered if that would change with the other things or if I was different being only half Naiad?
Gabe drew an unsteady breath as my fingers continued their course over his bare chest. He pinned my palm over the hard muscle above his heart. I smiled as the tempo increased. Turquoise eyes burned into me, warming me from head to toe as his arms encased my body like a cocoon. My skin met his and heat slashed though my stomach. Gabe’s hands slid along my back and down to my waist.
“My Gracie.” His mouth brushed against mine.
I wound my arms around his neck and our lips met. Gabe sighed, the sound amplified by the empty room, as his fingers tightened around my hips. He lifted me to the edge of the pool and moved closer, his
kiss growing eager. The taste of cedar and chlorine danced on my tongue. His lips trailed down one side of my neck and back up the other in a torturously slow way.
I slid forward, wrapping my legs around Gabe’s waist as his fingers snaked up my arm and wound through my strap. His free hand tangled in my hair as he slid the strap away, grazing my shoulder with his teeth.
The sound of someone clearing their throat caused me to jump.
“The pool area is closed for construction,” a voice said. I peered around Gabe to see a man in a hotel uniform, his arms crossed as he lifted a speculative eyebrow.
“Right,” Gabe huffed, his forehead falling against my shoulder.
“We would also encourage the use of proper swim attire.” The worker’s eyes lingered on the lacy strap dangling across the top of my arm. My cheeks flamed as I ducked behind Gabe and tugged it up.
“I’ll give you a moment to dress then you two clear out of here.” The man shook his head then stepped out of the room.
I padded across the patchy tile and hurried to yank my clothes back on. The fabric clung to my wet skin despite my tugging it away. Gabe dripped to the towel stand and unfastened his shorts. I closed my eyes and turned around as he wrapped a towel around his waist.
We hurried back to our room, picking up wandering glances along the way. I slipped into my pajamas and sat in bed, while Gabe changed. My pulse hammered in my ears as I waited, not knowing how the rest of the evening would play out.
Gabe opened the bathroom door but hesitated, glancing between the sofa and the vacant spot beside me.
“What are you doing?” I questioned.
“There’s only one bed,” he stated as if I’d missed the obvious.
“Yup.” I ran my hand over the crisp king-sized sheets. “You didn’t want me to get the double.”
“I asked you to not get the presidential suite.” His eyes lingered on the sheet at my waist. “Had I known these were single-bed rooms, I would’ve thought otherwise.”
I scoffed with a disbelieving smile.
“That wasn’t … I didn’t mean for us to share the bed,” he mumbled.
“I realize that,” I said bluntly. “I wasn’t laughing for humor’s sake.”