by Devyn Quinn
Jesse screamed within the confines of her mind even as some invisible force dragged her astral self back into her body. Horrendous, ear-shattering wails swirled around her with the force of a tornado. Raw energy coursed through her, flooding her veins with liquid electricity. Long claws sprouted from the tips of her fingers. Her canine teeth elongated into sharp, pointy fangs.
The coldness enveloping her quickly ebbed away. Her sluggish heart thumped, raced, and then resumed its normal rhythm. She was sure her eardrums were about to explode, when the wails trailed off.
Her transformation was complete. A mortal’s death had taken place inside her, giving the demon the power it needed to latch on and take control of her body.
Jesse had crossed.
Her eyes immediately shot open.
Ignoring Maddox’s gasp of surprise, she shoved him back and stiffly rose to a sitting position. “Get away from me,” she panted, half coughing on the words. The chamber was rank with death, the stench making it difficult for her to breathe. She doubted there would ever be enough heat in the world to warm the icy block that had formed inside her core.
Face shadowed with guilt, Maddox refused to obey. He pulled her closer, holding her tighter. “Jesse . . . You’re going to be okay, sweetheart,” he said, brushing a kiss into her matted hair.
Her head tipping back, Jesse’s gaze traveled toward his face. Her senses were so heightened that she could hear his blood pumping through his veins and his heart slamming erratically against his chest.
Emotion drew her nerves taut. For the first time she noticed he was dirty, ragged, and his face and neck covered with slices. He’d obviously gone through hell to reach her. She couldn’t begin to imagine how he’d gotten past Amonate and her legion, nor was she sure she wanted to know.
A horde of feelings was trying to form in her mind, but she couldn’t concentrate enough to bring those feelings to completion. “Oh, Maddox,” she finally managed to lisp, struggling to work her tongue around the protruding fangs. “What have you done to me?”
Reyen scrubbed his hands across his face. “Shit,” he muttered. “I think you just fucked up. Big-time.”
Maddox ignored him, drawing in a deep, shuddering breath. “As long as she’s alive, I don’t care what she is.”
His words resonated in Jesse’s mind like a sepulchral litany damning her existence. Light-headedness washed through her. It took all her willpower to remain conscious. At the same moment, a strange impression wormed its way into her psychic awareness. She’d just become a wild card in the battle between the opposing entities, serving neither heaven’s will nor hell’s whims.
A gasp of dismay slipped past her numb lips. The prospect of such foreknowledge was more frightening than anything she’d ever encountered. For if she’d truly been granted a glimpse of her future, then her notion of becoming the most powerful entity on Earth could also be a grim forewarning.
Jesse closed her eyes. Somehow she had a feeling all hell was about to break loose.
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ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Devyn Quinn lives in the scenic Southwest, though she has called several other states home. She is a huge fan of dark gothic music and shoot-’em-up action movies. But reading is her first love and Devyn spends too much time with history books, as well as feeding her addiction for celebrity biographies. She especially enjoys reading books on Hollywood before the 1960s and is crazy about Marilyn Monroe, her legend and her myth. Visit www.devynquinn.com for more information.
Read on for a peek at the next book from Devyn Quinn in the thrilling Dark Tides series
Siren’s Desire
Coming from Signet Eclipse in February 2012.
This doesn’t look promising, Addison Lonike thought as the twenty-seven-foot Boston Whaler headed toward the orange life raft bobbing on top of the choppy waters. Now that summer was coming to a close, people were attempting to squeeze a few more precious days of sailing out of the season.
Her heart sank as she performed a quick head count. When the distress signal had come in to Harbor Patrol, the pilot of the crippled yacht had radioed that four people were aboard.
“I only see two survivors,” she called as Sidney Rawlings guided their rescue boat around the raft, attempting to use the larger vessel as a break wall to give the smaller dinghy a little relief from the gusting wind and the pummeling water.
As far as pilots went, Sidney was one of the best. If anyone could handle navigation in a dangerous situation, he was the man. A few seconds later the raft scraped the side.
“We got ’em!” she called as she threw out a line to secure the smaller craft. Joined by a second crewman, she worked to bring the survivors on board.
Two sopping-wet people collapsed on deck: a man and a teenage girl. Both were blue from the cold and shivering. Addison quickly snuggled them both in thermal-heat wraps.
“My w-wife,” the man stuttered frantically. “And m-my s-son are still on the boat.”
Paramedic Jim Witkowsky quickly scanned the water. “I don’t see anything,” he called over the lashing zephyr. “What happened?”
The man shook his head in confusion. “I don’t know. We were cruising along just fine, heading toward the mainland. Then there was some—” He shook his head in confusion.
“Some sort of explosion,” the teen filled in, blabbing a mile a minute. “From the engine room, I think. There was a lot of smoke and fire.”
The kid’s father broke back in. “I sent a distress signal that we were going under. I—I managed to get the life raft out and inflated, but the cruiser started sinking.” Face contorting with pain, he shrugged helplessly. “It just went over on one side.”
The boat wasn’t what concerned Addison. The fact that two people were still in the water did. Unless they had life vests, there was little to no chance of survival. “You said your wife and son were still aboard,” she broke in.
Still half in shock and suffering from the effects of hypothermia, the man nodded. “Brenda and Sheldon. They were belowdecks, in the galley, fixing lunch. Barbra w-was with me. I’d been giving her lessons on piloting the boat.”
The girl’s face scrunched up as realization set in. “They never had a chance,” she said, sagging to the deck. A tear slid down her pale cheek and then another. “There was a big hole in the hull, and it just went under.”
Addison winced. Damn it. The rescue effort had just turned into a recovery mission. If there was one thing she hated, it was fishing dead bodies out of the water. The Mayday call had come in roughly half an hour ago. Though they’d headed out within minutes, the exact location of the wreck was unknown, preventing them from reaching the area sooner. The chances of locating more survivors had just gone from slim to none.
“It must have gone down fast, and straight to the bottom,” Witkowsky continued. “There’s no way . . .”
Jaw tightening, Addison elbowed her crewmate. The last thing you wanted to say in front of the family was that there was no hope. But Witkowsky was a newbie, and he still had to learn the finer points of empathy when in an emergency situation.
“There’s always a chance,” she cut in smoothly. “Last year a woman survived underwater, in an air pocket of a sunken boat, for more than twenty-four hours.”
The girl looked up at her, desperation written across her young face. “Is there any way to get down to them?” she asked hopefully. Even as she spoke, her gaze found and fixed on the diving equipment the rescue vessel carried.
Witkowsky shook his head. “We should probably wait for backup from the Coast Guard before we proceed with any diving.”
Addison wasn’t listening. Her mind had already been made up. The girl couldn’t have been older than thirteen, fourteen at the most. Having lost her own parents at an early age, Addison knew what it felt like to suddenly have family members ripped away far too prematurely. There was no way she’d let the chance pass without attempting to do all she could to change the course
of an already tragic day.
Stripping out of her EMT’s uniform, she began to put on her diving gear. Every minute that ticked away was another one lost. Though she usually didn’t bother with a wet suit, today she’d awoken with a nagging feeling that she should be prepared to go into the water. She was already putting hers on when the distress signal came in. Call it a little Mer-tuition, she thought, as she put on the heavy oxygen tank and mask.
“Tell Sidney to hold it steady,” she called.
The pilot was already one step ahead. “I’ve got it here,” Sidney yelled back, throttling the engines down into idle.
Addison gave him the diver’s signal for all systems go. “I shouldn’t be long, Sid.”
Sidney nodded. “Will do. I’ve radioed the Coast Guard that we’ve made contact and are commencing with recovery efforts. We’ve got the go-ahead if we think we can handle it.”
Witkowsky speared them both with a look of pure disbelief. “Sending a single diver down into an unknown situation definitely isn’t a good idea. There need to be at least two in the water in case something goes wrong.”
Addison tossed him a nod. She already knew what Witkowsky didn’t: The sea was a mermaid’s natural environment. She was actually safer in the water than out of it. Nevertheless, it always took an event like this to break in a new member of the team. A freshly minted paramedic, Jim had less than two weeks with Harbor Patrol under his belt.
“It’s your first time out with the team, so I’ll cut you some slack for your disbelief in my diving capabilities.”
“Lonike is our most experienced diver,” Sidney cut in. “And since she’s the captain of this vessel, she outranks both of us. Going into the water is her call.” He paused a moment, then added, “If she can’t handle it, no one can.”
Witkowsky shook his head. “Fine. But I want my protest logged.”
“Your concern is duly noted.” Addison hated to pull rank, but when lives were on the line, she’d do whatever it took to do her job. The chief had wanted to gauge how well Witkowsky performed under her authority before letting him in on her true identity. The guys she worked with had to be trusted to watch her back when she went into the water. “When we return to the mainland, we’ll sit down with Chief Simms and have a little talk.”
Witkowsky pulled a sour face. “You bet we will.”
Addison ignored him. She didn’t have the time or inclination to quibble. Recent events concerning her kind had made it necessary to keep a very low profile. Now that the Mer had begun to emerge from Ishaldi, the powers that be weren’t exactly welcoming to the newly revealed species. Mers were still viewed as aliens and treated as such. One of the conditions for release from the government’s A51-ASD complex was that she and her two sisters had to keep a low profile among the civilian population. They would be allowed to resume their lives in Port Rock as long as they lived—and acted—like regular people.
But that was proving to be difficult. As much as she tried to mimic landlubbers, she just wasn’t human.
Heading down the side boarding ladder, she eased into the water. Although she’d learned years ago to dive the human way, she found all the heavy equipment annoying. Disappearing beneath the waves, she stopped when she was about fifty feet below the surface, deep enough under the water where no one could see her.
Without hesitating, she ripped off the mask and mouthpiece. Giving the unnecessary items a quick wink, she quickly worked a little Mercraft. A little flare surrounded the items and then they were gone. The heavy tank across her back soon followed.
Freed of a few less things to carry, Addison stretched out and made a slow roll through the water. The change from her human form to that of a Mer occurred in the blink of an eye. One moment she had two legs. The next moment a spark of bright colors raced like wildfire across her skin. Her wet suit melted away, leaving her completely naked. The lower half of her body had also changed, becoming a beautiful multicolored tail. It took less than thirty seconds for the metamorphosis to complete itself. She was again a creature who belonged and thrived in the cerulean blue waters of the deep sea.
Addison nodded with satisfaction. All those hours she’d spent practicing her magic had finally paid off. With just a thought and a little push of energy from the crystal she always wore around her neck, she could make small objects appear and disappear at will. Her older sister, Tessa, had taught her that trick. Although it had taken much trial and embarrassing error, she’d finally gotten the hang of the spell. She had no clue where it all went, but when she wanted it again all she had to do was think about it and everything would return.
Free to swim unencumbered, Addison dove toward the bottom. Though the day was clear and warm, the waters were cold and murky, strangely devoid of fish and other sea life. It was as if the creatures sensed something had gone terribly wrong and had abandoned the area.
Minutes later, the wreckage of the yacht loomed into view. The craft had turned almost completely upside down as it sank.
Putting her tail in motion, Addison swam toward the crippled vessel. As the girl had stated, there was indeed a gaping hole in the hull. A thin stream of gasoline and oil eddied up from the exposed engines. The sight saddened her. A family outing had turned tragic in the blink of an eye. No doubt the Coast Guard would salvage the yacht to determine the cause of the accident.
Why the vessel sank wasn’t her concern. She needed to locate the remaining passengers. Even though it had been foolhardy, she’d practically promised the girl a miracle. She intended to deliver one, if at all possible.
And with a Mer in the water, anything’s possible, she reminded herself.
Reaching the interior of the cabin wasn’t going to be easy. A diver wearing full gear would find it almost impossible to wriggle beneath the yacht and into the interior of the cabin. It was a tight fit for a mermaid, but Addison somehow managed to squeeze through.
Amazingly the galley’s emergency lights were still functioning, lending an eerie illumination to the swamped interior. The body of a woman floated nearby.
Addison swam through the narrow space, checking the woman’s pulse. Nothing. She was cold, motionless. One look at her empty expression and gaping mouth told her the spark of life had been snuffed out.
But the child . . .
Addison looked around. It took a few moments for her sharp gaze to pick out the little boy floating among the debris of cushions from a nearby bunk. With soft blond curls fanned out around his head, he looked like a doll abandoned after a day’s play.
Her heart squeezed painfully. Oh no. He couldn’t have been more than five or six. She reached out, laying the tips of her fingers at the pulse point of the boy’s throat. Please, oh, please, she thought, stilling her own breath and striking out with her sixth sense. The spark of life was there, but rapidly fading. Deep inside she felt his desperate struggle, sensed his lungs burning with the need to drag in a precious breath of air.
Giving thanks to the goddess that the child still had a chance to survive, Addison pressed her mouth over lips that were cold and unmoving. As an empath she had the ability to generate energy within her own body, and then remanifest it in physical kinetic form. The soul stone around her neck began to glow softly as she filtered living electricity from her body into the youngster’s motionless figure.
Seconds later the child’s eyes fluttered. He coughed, gasped for air. The lungs in his chest expanded, filtering out sea water and taking in pure oxygen. He was awake, but only on a peripheral level.
Relief whirred along her nerve endings. You’ll be all right, she mentally telegraphed. Under the enchantment of a mermaid’s kiss, the boy was capable of comprehending her silent words. The spell was only temporary and would last until his lungs again drew oxygen above the level of the water. He would have no memory of her in her Mer form.
Smiling with relief, Addison gathered the little boy into her arms. It took a bit of creative maneuvering to get back through the narrow passage and away from the sunken wre
ck. Guiding the child toward the surface, she quite forgot that she’d doffed her diving gear.
Seconds later their heads popped above the water. Bobbing with the waves, Addison swam toward the rescue boat. She saw Jim Witkowsky lean over the edge, pointing her way. “There she is,” he called. “And she’s not alone.”
Catching hold of the ladder, Addison hefted half her body out of the water before lifting the limp child toward Witkowsky’s waiting hands.
The man and his daughter stumbled toward the semiconscious boy even as Witkowsky began resuscitation efforts. “Sheldon!” the man cried from behind the paramedic. “Come on, son. Breathe.”
A moment later the child heaved out a stream of bile mixed with water. A splutter followed by a healthy wail rolled past his blue-tinged lips. And then he was breathing, above water and on his own.
Witkowsky gave a quick thumbs-up. “I think he’s gonna make it.”
The man gathered the boy into his arms. “Thank God,” he murmured against the wet mat of hair pasted to the child’s forehead. “He’s alive.”
But not everyone’s eyes were on the rescue efforts taking place. Even as she clung to the ladder watching events on board unfold, Addison had the uneasy feeling that she was being watched. She looked up to see the girl’s gaze fixed upon her. A look half of horror mingling with fascination colored the teen’s expressive features.
Addison winced, giving herself a quick mental slap. She’d just made the worst blunder a Mer could make: letting humans see her in her true form.
The teen raised a hand and pointed her way. “D-Daddy, something’s not right!” the girl exclaimed in a shaky voice. “That lady has a tail!”
Everyone looked. And gaped.
“Holy shit!” Witkowsky exclaimed, eyeing Addison’s exposed breasts and slender hips. “She’s naked as a jaybird.”