“Mom loves that we still live at home,” I said, rolling out of my bed and catching a glimpse of myself in the mirror. Damn, I was a good looking bastard—six foot four of blond haired, blue eyed perfection.
“Ummm, I beg to differ, jackwad,” Kurt said, pulling his head out of the wall. Unfortunately most of the wall crumbled as he detached his head from the plaster. “We’re over three hundred years old. Don't ya think we should move out?”
He did have a point. Living at home cramped my style a bit. However the laundry thing was a real issue.
“Next week,” I told my brother. “We’ll move out next week.”
“You’ve been saying that for a century,” he reminded me with a grin.
“As soon as I get a job or figure out my purpose in life, we’ll find a nice island full of beautiful women,” I promised.
“Who can cook and do laundry?” he asked.
“Absolutely.”
* * *
“We’re going on vacation,” my mother said, eyeing us with distaste.
“You mean like for an afternoon?” I asked, seating myself at the dining room table and digging into the massive pile of pancakes.
“Nope. We’re going for about a decade or seven.”
“Or ten,” my father grumbled as he smacked my hand before I could take all of the pancakes.
“Your father and I are going to give you two wastes of space the house. Poseidon knows, you’ve already destroyed it. And since we can’t seem to persuade you to move out. We’re taking the initiative and going on a permanent vacation,” she said, handing me a napkin. “You have syrup on your chin, Keith.”
“I put it there on purpose,” I replied, playing it off. “So let me get this straight. You’re taking a vacation. Right?”
“Correct,” my father said, watching me warily.
“To?” I questioned.
“That’s confidential information,” my mother replied, narrowing her icy blue eyes at me.
My mother was gorgeous—we all were. Selkies are a ridiculously pretty species and I took full advantage of my good looks. It had nearly gotten me killed by angry mobs of women numerous times over my long life, but a man had to do what a man had to do.
“And does this particular vacation home have guest rooms?” I pressed.
“Nope. No guest rooms,” my father grunted.
“A basement perchance?” Kurt questioned, not liking the direction of the conversation any more than I did.
“Nope. No basement,” my father added. “No floor space, no couch and no attic.”
“A pool?” I asked hopefully. We were water creatures. I’d be fine sleeping in a heated pool. A little pruney maybe, but fine.
“Nope. You violent, lazy bastards are on your own,” he said, standing up with a huge smile on his handsome face.
“How many decades did you say?” I asked, pushing my plate away. My appetite was gone. How could they leave helpless children alone and unsupervised? We’d kill each other.
My mother signed dramatically and ran her hands through her long blonde hair. “You are both over three hundred years old. It’s high time you left home—or in this case you can keep the home. We’re leaving.”
“Are you sure you’re ready for something that life-changingly drastic?” Kurt asked. “I mean won’t you worry about your little boys?”
“Nope,” my dad said, his grin growing wider.
I was shocked they would actually do it. Our island was a literal paradise—it was even called Paradise Island for the love of everything salty. It couldn’t be found on any map, therefore humans never ventured here. We were free to use magic and be ourselves. Only Selkies inhabited our perfect little secret—along with a very rare Crab Shifter Pirate named Sven. It was the ideal setup for creatures like us and now my parents were going to ruin it. Well, not for them—for us.
“You’ll be fine. And if you’re not, at least we’ll be fine,” my mother announced. “It’s high time for you boys to grow up. I’m the only one in my Mahjong group that doesn’t have grandbabies. Do you have any idea how depressing that is?”
“How about we get you a dog?” I suggested, not really understanding the problem.
Grandchildren meant that I would have to impregnate someone. Impregnating someone meant that I had to find a mate. Finding a mate meant that I had to get a job. Getting a job meant I couldn’t sleep till one. Not happening. Besides there had only been one delectable creature that I’d thought was my true love and she didn’t really like me much. Well, that was an understatement. She despised me—tried to dismember me.
“How about no?” my mother countered, throwing a syrupy pancake at my head. “You both need to get jobs and lives. We’re guilty of enabling you. Both of you have a rare gift and it’s about time you started using it.”
“About that,” I said, peeling the pancake from my forehead and eating it. “Would you like to give us a hint about that gift?”
“You’re a Selkie. Figure it out for yourselves,” my father bellowed. “No more spoon feeding.”
Kurt raised his hand politely and my mother smiled at his good manners. Damn it, I wish I’d thought of that. If they took him and left me here, I was going to throw a fit like they’d never seen. Or at the very least I would rearrange my brother’s face before they left.
“Kurt?” my mother said, calling on him.
“Umm, what if we can’t figure it out and we die of starvation, neglect, lack of love and no necessary parental guidance?” he inquired.
The asshole was good—very good.
My mother’s laugh rang out and my father rolled his eyes.
“I’m quite sure you will figure it out. Both of you are destined for greatness according to Poseidon—who may or may not have been drunk when he shared that information. You just have to get up before noon and get your shit together,” she said, waving her hand and producing twenty suitcases, fully packed and ready to go. “Your father and I will be in touch—occasionally. I’ve made a few vegetable casseroles. They’re in the freezer and there are about fifty boxes of cereal in the pantry. That should last you a week until you’ll have to forage for food.”
“Seriously?” I griped.
“You’re right,” she amended. “That will last you eating machines two days. Remember, we love you and we’re doing this for your own good.”
“And our own sanity,” my father added.
“Yes, that too,” my mother agreed and then sighed in resignation. “And because you two are the slightly bruised apples of my eye, I will give you a few hints.”
My mother gathered her Chanel purse and her Prada sunglasses from the table and moved to stand next to my father. “Think about what comes easily to you.”
“Wooing the ladies?” I volunteered.
“Umm, no,” she said, rolling her eyes in disgust. “Think with the head on your shoulders—not the one in your pants.”
Damn it. That was going to be difficult.
“If you think hard, you will discover your gift. It’s something you’re very good at,” she said.
“And if all else fails—and Poseidon knows it probably will—go to Sven. He’s a very smart Pirate Crab,” my father added.
“Interesting,” I said with a wince. “Sven isn’t too fond of us at the moment.”
“Toilet papering his yard before a monsoon wasn’t the best idea you’ve had,” my mother chided. “I’d suggest an apology if you choose to go to him.”
“He’s going to want to kick our asses. We could die,” Kurt pointed out, still trying to play on their sympathies.
My brother was a master.
“Payback’s a bitch, boys,” my father said with a wide grin.
Or maybe Kurt wasn’t a master…
“And yours has been coming for a few centuries,” my father added.
With that, my traitorous parental units left in a cloud of silver smoke taking their suitcases with them. We were now ass deep in trouble.
“Do you
know how to work the microwave?” Kurt whispered with terror in his eyes.
“No. No, I don’t. But how hard can it be?”
It turned out to be very hard. So hard that we blew up the kitchen and ended up having to eat all fifty boxes of cereal so we didn’t die of starvation. Life as we’d known it was over. I had no clean boxer briefs and Kurt was down to his last pair of shorts that didn’t have food stains.
We were fucked.
Going to Sven the Pirate Crab was our only option.
May Poseidon save our hungry asses.
3
Ariel
“Look at this stuff. Isn’t it neat?” I said, playing with the shiny pile of new brochures for the resort while we waited for Pirate Doug to start the meeting.
The Pirate in question was busy yelling at his crew of arses for scaring the humans with the nard licking episode. That could take a while…
“Hmmm, would you say your collection’s complete?” Misty teased.
“Wouldn’t you say you’re a girl—a girl who has everything?” Madison finished with a giggle.
“I do believe you’re making fun of me, you buttholes,” I said with a raised brow as I tossed the brochures at them.
“I do believe we are, Joan,” Misty said with a grin, picking up the scattered pile and placing them back neatly on the desk of our spacious and colorful hotel office.
“My name is not Joan anymore. Joan is a ridiculous name for a Mermaid,” I grumbled. “I’m Ariel.”
“Little too Disney for me, Princess,” Madison said with a grin.
“You’re certainly a fine one to talk, Miss-I-Watched-Splash-Entirely-Too-Many-Times and then assumed the name Madison,” Tallulah said joining us in the office with a laugh.
“The name Cindy sucks,” Madison griped. “I’m much more of a Madison than a Cindy.”
“Whatever,” Tallulah said with a shake of her head and a smile. “Get a load of this.”
She placed a piece of paper in front of us and then crossed her arms over her chest and waited with wide-eyed delight.
“Sweet motherhumpin’ chicken of the sea, what the hell is that? Have the humans already sued us over the nut sack catastrophe?” I demanded, noticing all of the zeros in the number with great alarm.
“Umm, no, thank Poseidon. It’s an offer to buy one of the new cottages we had built on the island,” Tallulah said with excitement in her voice.
“For real?” Misty asked, examining the price quoted. “You asked for a million dollars?”
“Nope,” Tallulah said. “I told them the cottages weren’t for sale and they offered a million.”
“Who are they?” Madison asked.
“Selkies,” Tallulah said. “A mated couple. Stellar references. Said they couldn’t take living where they were anymore and heard about our island. They just want some peace and quiet. Apparently, they were living in some sort of hell.”
“But we’re a tourist trap—with humans who witnessed a Pirate putting his balls in his mouth,” I pointed out with a shudder. “If they want peace and quiet why would they come here?”
“Only one side of the island houses the resort—and testicular mishaps,” Tallulah said, clearly trying to sell us on the idea. “Three fourths of the island is totally private. And Upton, Thornycraft and Bonar aren’t allowed on that side.”
“Since when?” Misty asked, confused.
“Since today,” Tallulah shot back with a smirk. “And if they pull another pornographic contortionist act they’ll be confined to the ship.”
“It was only Upton that licked his bits,” I told her wanting to be fair to the arses. “As far as I know, Bonar and Thornycraft can’t do that.”
“You don’t want to know what Bonar and Thornycraft can do,” Tallulah said with a slight gag. “Trust me on this.”
I was silent for a long moment as I internally debated if I wanted to know.
I stayed silent.
I didn’t want to know.
I’d leave their hidden talents in the same hidey-hole as their species. Some things were best left to the imagination.
“I say yes,” Misty said and then quickly added, “to the Selkies buying the cottage. Not to learning the disgusting secrets of the arses.”
“Ariel likes Selkies,” Madison sang with a wide grin.
“I liked a Selkie… for a very hot minute until I figured out what a douche canoe he was,” I snapped, remembering the sexiest and most idiotic man I’d ever had the misfortune to come across. Sadly the dumbass still invaded my thoughts on a regular basis.
“What went wrong with that one?” Tallulah asked. “As I remember he was insanely beautiful and the chemistry was off the map.”
“In the middle of the best boink I’d ever experienced, he asked if I was a good cook and wondered if I’d be willing to do his laundry,” I said, narrowing my eyes at the memory.
“You’re shitting me,” Misty said with a laugh.
“I shit you not,” I replied. “He almost left a soprano. Have you ever heard of such a sexist request—during boinking?”
“Doug does his own laundry. He even offered to do mine, but when I caught the dumbass boiling our clothes in a cooking pot in his ship I put an end to that. Now he boils his own clothes. I’m happy doing mine—in a washing machine,” Tallulah said with a giggle. “We’re a fifty-fifty relationship or he loses his Johnson. Well, except for the laundry. He’s on his own with that shitshow.”
“Smart move,” Madison said. “And I vote yes on the Selkies too.”
“Ariel?” Tallulah questioned.
Selkies were tricky. They were loaded with magic and could be violent—not that we were much different. A million dollars was a lot of money and if their references were good it might be fine. We could do massive improvements to the resort and start making some real money—maybe even hire a few Mermaids from the neighboring islands to help. Maybe I could take a long overdue vacation and go on a wild adventure to find my true love.
Poseidon only knew, the job was almost getting too much for my sisters and me to handle. A mated Selkie couple who wanted peace and quiet couldn’t be anything like the gorgeous jackhole Selkie who still unfortunately haunted my dreams.
“Yep, I’m cool with it. When do they want to move here?”
“Today,” Tallulah replied.
“That sounds a little suspect,” I pointed out, pursing my lips. “Are we sure they’re not running from something nefarious? We finally have a truce with the stinky ass Sea Hags. We really don’t need anyone bringing trouble to the island.”
“Not entirely sure,” Tallulah admitted with a mischievous sparkle in her eyes. “That thought crossed my mind as well, but they do come highly recommended and it has gotten a bit boring around here lately.”
“You mean Pirates going down on themselves isn’t enough excitement for you?” I asked with a laugh.
“Speaking of…” Tallulah said as Pirate Doug entered the office followed by a very contrite Upton.
Thornycraft and Bonar were still laughing. Upton not so much.
“Hookers, I’m sorry I licked me bits,” Upton apologized. “Won’t be revealing me pecker in public anymore. Yarr have nothing to worry about thar. Me nards will stay in me breeches.”
“Apology accepted,” I said, biting back my grin. I really did like the arses. I just never wanted to see their privates ever again.
“Aye,” Pirate Doug said, satisfied that the gross event was forgiven. “I think we should have the meeting on the ship.”
“Why?” I asked. “We have complete privacy in the office. It’s even soundproofed.”
“Do you want the island to smell like a massive butt?” he inquired.
“Hell to the no,” I snapped. “Did you idiots eat beans for breakfast again?”
“Nay,” Pirate Doug said with a chuckle. “I need my sister, Bony Velma Dustface at the meeting. And since we have paying humans who have already been traumatized once today, I thought it best we host my stin
ky sibling on the ship anchored out in the ocean.”
“Do we really need to include the Sea Hags?” Tallulah asked.
Pirate Doug nodded. “This could affect all of us. We have a huge fucking problem on our hands.”
“Shit,” I muttered. “Maybe the Selkies won’t want to live here. Maybe I don’t want to live here.”
“Enough of your whining, little Mermaid,” Madison admonished. “Grab a nose plug. We’re going to the ship.”
4
Keith
“We’re gonna starve to death,” Kurt whispered with wild eyes as he rocked back and forth in a ball on the floor.
My brother voiced the same horrifying thought I was having. We’d gone through the fifty boxes of cereal in an hour. Because the microwave and most of the kitchen were burnt to a crisp, we’d scarfed the casseroles ice cold and frozen rock hard. Not the best of situations, but we tended to be stress eaters. Thank Poseidon that our metabolism was insane. We’d be the size of orcas if it wasn’t for that magical perk. However, now we had nothing to eat—at all.
“Do you have any clue where to get food?” I asked, trying to be proactive and positive.
“I know it comes in bags,” Kurt offered. “Brown paper bags with little fishies on them.”
“That doesn’t fucking help,” I snapped. “And we don’t eat fish. I can’t eat things I can converse with. You feel me, sphincter brains?”
“Pictures of fishies, you idiotic rectum knob,” Kurt shouted, jumping to his feet.
I paused and stared at my brother in admiration. “Did you make that up?” I asked.
“The fishy bags?” he asked, confused.
“No. The idiotic rectum knob part. It was excellent.”
Kurt grinned. “I did. I’m thinking about starting a blog on the interwebs. I’m outstanding with the insults.”
“That you are, you crusty dookie whistle,” I replied. “And I’m not so bad myself. However, do you know how to work a computer?”
“No. Do you?”
“How hard can it be?” I asked and then blanched. I’d thought using a microwave would be simple. I was incorrect.
Ariel’s Antics: Sea Shenanigans, Book 2 Page 2