Torrents (DROPLETS Trilogy Book 3)

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Torrents (DROPLETS Trilogy Book 3) Page 3

by Rauscher, Meaghan


  “Hey, how are you?” I called back to her as I wiped up the remains of the water and stood to throw the now dripping towel in the sink. Reese’s eyes flitted over Sean and his wet appearance, but she didn’t comment.

  “Fine, thanks,” she said and shifted her weight from foot to foot. It wasn’t always this awkward with her around, but sometimes like today, she interrupted one of our moments when the three of us were alone together. There is something about a bond between siblings that no outsider can understand, no matter what they do they will never be as completely involved. But Reese tried, and for that she was accepted.

  “So where are you guys going tonight?” Sean asked and I tried not to laugh as he behaved as though it were perfectly normal to stand in the kitchen with a drenched head and soaked shirt dripping on the floor.

  “Not sure, this one is up to Derek,” Reese squeezed my brother’s hand and looked up at him. He smiled back.

  “Probably just a movie,” he said.

  Of course it would be a movie, it was Friday night, and there was nothing else for couples to do in Coveside on a weekend. It was why I often worked on weekends, but tonight they didn’t need me at Darrow’s Catch.

  Ever since I had returned home, I had been working as a substitute waitress and tonight there was nowhere for me to help out, it had been the reason for my coming over to the twin’s apartment. At least here I could be more like myself and keep my mind off of Zale at the same time. It had been too long since I had last heard from him, and most of the time I tried not to think about where he was and how much I missed him.

  No news is good news.

  I had repeated the thought in my head day after day until it became a mantra. Not knowing what was going on with him or the war was beginning to have a strain on my nerves and I needed a way of seeing it positively. My only little haven was to see my brothers and work on bettering myself for a future fight I hoped would never come.

  “Well,” Derek gave Reese’s hand a little tug, “we’d better get going.”

  “Okay,” she said and smiled up at him. They left the apartment and her laughter was audible just before the front door shut. Sean let out a heavy sigh.

  “That was dramatic,” I said.

  The side of his mouth curled into a smile. “It was meant to be that way,” he winked at me as he left the kitchen to go change his shirt.

  It wasn’t the first time I had caught him looking somber after Derek and Reese were around. There were moments like these which dragged me back into the real world, into the world I used to belong to and should still belong to if it wasn’t for that fateful night. To see it from the outside, sometimes left me breathless and uncertain of what to say or do.

  In all the time I had been gone, life had continued here. My brothers were getting older, moving on, and there was nothing I could do to stop it. I saw it in their continuing maturity much in the same way my other siblings continued to grow in height. All of them were little reminders of what I was no longer a part of; little splinters poking into my side, pricking me when I realized it would be many years before I aged one merfolk year.

  Kryssa had told me a long time ago of how humans lived close to fifty years in comparison to each year merfolk aged. When I thought about how my family wouldn’t see me past twenty, it forced me to face the reality of what Morven had done.

  Sean came back into the kitchen with a dry shirt and I caught myself staring at his head. I was so used to hair which dried immediately, it was neat to see it still wet. It would be dry soon, but the half-turned light locks had a depth to them I could no longer touch. No matter how hard I tried, I could never be fully human again, and once my birthday rolled around I would be even less human than I was now.

  It was my turn to sigh. Even though the sound barely passed through my lips, somehow I thought Sean heard it as he glanced my way, if only for a moment.

  “Are you ready to go?” he asked and grabbed his keys out of the little clay bowl Sara had made at school. I nodded in response and passed by him into the warm summer night air, heading for the truck. As we piled in, I couldn’t help the memories of a very different driver entering my thoughts. My lips curled into an unwarranted smile as I thought of the way Zale had enjoyed driving. I had certainly been afraid for my life, but in hindsight, the speed of his driving and the control he had over the car only brought back the rush of pure adrenaline to my memory.

  “You know,” I said as I buckled myself into the passenger seat, “you’ll find someone.”

  “What?” Sean said and the engine roared to life.

  “I see the way you look at them,” my hand waved in front of me as if Derek and Reese stood before us.

  “You’re crazy,” Sean scoffed. “I’m not jealous of him.”

  “I know. You’re jealous of both of them. What they have.” I shrugged as I spoke, “The way they are together, it’s easy.”

  The truck eased forward and I chanced a glance at Sean. His light blue eyes were peering into the darkness as though searching for something, but I knew I had guessed right. His thoughts often mirrored my own. I wanted so badly for it to be as easy for me too. It simply wasn’t that way for me, and it never had been.

  When I had fallen in love with Patrick, I had never expected how complicated my relationship with him could get. My only hope now was to hang on to what Zale had given me the night he had left. He had said he loved me and I had shared the same in return. Even now, after so many months, the warmth of those words stirred something deep within my heart.

  “Are you sure you haven’t gotten your special eyes yet?” Sean asked, taking one of his hands off the wheel to put quotations around the word special.

  Sometimes it startled me when my brothers talked so openly about stuff they shouldn’t know. I had told them everything, and in return they acted as if it were normal that their sister was a transformed mermaid, who could turn out to be a siren, and was in love with a transformed merman warrior. Just thinking of the messed up world I lived in made me want to shake my head.

  “Oh, I’m quite positive,” I nodded, playfully punching his shoulder. He rolled his eyes, but I was glad to see the lightness return to them. “I’m serious though, you’ll find someone.”

  “I know,” he said, “and besides I’m the better looking of the two of us.” He winked, his blue eyes sparkling, as we came to a halt at one of the stop lights near town. It was one of those traffic signals which always seemed to be red no matter what direction you were headed and there was never another car in sight.

  “You know, that’s what identical means,” I said and it was my turn to put my fingers up in quotations, “The second twin shall thus be the more handsome of the two.”

  He laughed and gunned the truck forward beneath the glow of the now-turned green light. “I think you’re crazy.”

  “Likewise,” I said and smiled as I looked out the windshield. The road was beginning to climb toward home and I was glad for the shared silence. I badly wanted to roll the windows down in the truck but Sean hated the sound of the wind whipping against his ears.

  The truck came to a halt in the little paved turnaround next to my parent’s house and when the engine stopped the silence surrounding us was almost overwhelming. Without trying to break it, I unbuckled and jumped down from the cab of the truck. The soft breeze tugged at the light jacket I always wore to cover the dagger sheathed on my left forearm.

  “Come on in,” Aaron called from the side door. He must have heard us pull into the driveway. I waved at him and he turned back to the kitchen leaving the door open.

  The scene inside was one of complete perfection in an upside down world. At times it felt like stepping into a bubble of warmth, of laughter, of love that could seep into your skin and heal all wounds. My siblings all talked loudly at the table, baby Emly screaming as she tried to avoid the spoon Jillian was forcing into her mouth, as Dad fed Kaleb little bits of food in the highchair, and Aaron—who was wolfing down his meal as though it might
disappear—next to Justin creating some type of edible masterpiece which involved his stacking of chicken nuggets covered in honey. And then there was Caitlin, who was carrying on what must have been an incredibly important conversation with Sara as though it were a business meeting, when they were most likely talking about what kind of tea party they would have tomorrow.

  The sight was at once amusing, familiar, and yet heartbreaking all at the same time. It reminded me of the night Emly was born, when I had decided to run away from home. I had realized I no longer fit in, and nothing about it had changed. The only difference was the open acceptance in this place I called home.

  Glancing up, I saw Sean watching the scene and his eyes held nothing back. He was part of this crazy, wonderful group of people and he sauntered forward to join them all at the table. I don’t know how long I stood there watching, but when my throat threatened to close up with restrained emotion, I pulled myself from my thoughts and sat down at the table next to Justin—the little architect protégé.

  ________________

  I sighed; desperation mingling with exhaustion while taking in the sandy beach stretching beside the black rolling waves like a bolt of lightning. The icy water curled in on itself, falling in an explosion of foaming white. The frothing remains stretched toward my feet and I stepped back to avoid it, hitting a solid body behind me. The thick bare chest was reassuring and I sighed once more. He was here with me, everything would be all right. I felt his hands run up my shoulders and I leaned my head back and closed my eyes. His hands didn’t stop, but continued from my neck down to where he interlaced his fingers with my own. I was small and delicate in his arms, but certain it was where I belonged. Another sigh escaped my lips and I concentrated, as the thick arms of muscle wrapped around my torso. I felt the way he squeezed, constricting me and wrapping me within his embrace. He continued to squeeze, the air leaving my lungs and making it harder to breathe. I said his name, warning him, but he kept crushing me tighter to his body. I tried to turn and look at him, but his arms kept me from moving. My heart rate began to accelerate as I pushed with all my strength against the thick bands of muscle, but they didn’t budge an inch. Suddenly, I felt cool lips press against my neck and a shock of fear spiked through my spine. Those weren’t his lips. In one instant, he spun me around and I took in the dark hair and gray, calculating eyes of the one who had changed me. I tried to push back from his broad chest, but he slipped his hand around my neck and pressed his thumb into my throat. In horror I watched as his lips came closer…

  With a gasp, I jolted awake. My heart raced within my chest and I pressed a hand over it as if to still its erratic beating. Slowly, my breaths began to still, only to resume its irregular pulse when I remembered the surprise and desperation of the nightmare.

  Raising a hand to my forehead, I sat up and kicked my legs free of the bondage of my entangled bedspread. The duvet fell onto the floor with a light thud. Shivers raked up and down my spine, and when I pulled my hand away from my head, I saw my fingers were trembling. This had been a new nightmare, and I wasn’t sure if I preferred the old one.

  Ever since I had been attacked by Bolrock on the island, he had reigned in my nightmares. There was hardly a night when I didn’t go to bed expecting his face to appear, his blades slashing at my arm. Usually, I woke up gasping for breath and my left shoulder smarting with pain. It was always a surprise to me when I saw my arm was still intact and not bleeding profusely. However, it wasn’t the pain in my shoulder which pulled me from the nightmare. Instead it was his words which left me more deeply wounded than before falling asleep.

  On the night of my attack, I had found out my greatest fear was true; the reason Patrick had become the warrior and lost himself in anger was because he had thought me dead. When I was a prisoner in Hyvar, I had the chance to show Patrick I was still alive. Instead, I had fled to save myself. The intent had been to come back and save him as soon as possible, but by the time we were able to infiltrate Hyvar, Morven had already finished his work. My supposed death had killed the man I used to know.

  Looking at my arm, I traced the dark scar running from the top of my shoulder down to my elbow and knew it was smaller than the wound in my heart.

  But neither the flash of Bolrock’s blades or the memory of what I had done was comparable to the terror of the new nightmare my mind had created. It must have had something to do with Morven’s visit. Ever since I had seen him on the beach, there had been a cloud of lingering dread hanging over me. It was the worry of what was to come. He had played me easily for a fool, when I thought I was meeting Zale, and had come face to face with him instead. The immediate shock of danger which coursed through me was something I wasn’t going to forget soon, and my nightmare had only reminded me of how it felt.

  Still, there was good which had come out of the meeting. Reaching under my pillow, I wrapped my hand around the handle of the sheathed dagger and placed it on my lap. As always, the sight of the wooden carving sent an unexplainable thrill through me. There, carved into the wood was the gift Zale had given me, to let me know he was no longer with Morven. More than anything, it let me know he treasured what we had shared as much as I did.

  My fingers traced over the raised carvings. They were mertails, intertwined with an intricate design which brought a smile to my lips. I remembered the way it had felt to be wrapped up in his arms with my tail curled around his. His dark black scales had engulfed my lavender in an elaborate shimmer beneath the surface of the waterfall. Something akin to desire coursed through me and I pressed a hand to the lavender scar on my hip. That day my own scar had rested against his black one, a matching pair. The mere memory of it made my lips tingle and heat flood my cheeks.

  Those kisses with Zale had been different. Not that kisses with him when he had been human were any less powerful, just different. His eyes were the same color as they used to be, only harder. His hair as familiar to me as when he had been human, but he was not the same person. There was a harshness and ruthlessness in him which at times terrified me, but I had only ever faced his wrath once. A wrath which had almost cost me my life.

  Shaking my head, I tried not to remember the night of the Lathmor attack when Zale had caught up with me on the island. He told me later there was an anger coursing through him which he couldn’t control. He described it as though it were a fog and something he couldn’t shake off, but he was able to break free whenever he focused on me. He’d told me of how when he awoke in Hyvar, he had been clouded and unable to act upon his own will. It was only when he first saw my face, when I had come to rescue Patrick, that he had been able to think clearly. From then on, I became his way of being able to think and act outside of Morven’s control.

  I had watched the changes taking place in him, from the first moment I realized who he was, to the last time I had seen him on the island. My heart pinched thinking of the memory. He had left me knowing we couldn’t be together as long as he was with Morven. I had refused to budge from my position and he hadn’t yielded.

  Pulling my eyes away from the dagger, I reveled in the knowledge this simple gift had given me. When Morven had come searching for me, he had revealed something which even now brought a smile to my face. Zale was no longer with Morven, but just where he was, I didn’t know.

  With a grunt of annoyance, I threw my feet over the edge of the bed and stumbled to the window, leaving the dagger on the mattress. The water from the ocean was just visible over the crest of the hill and a long stretch of ghostly light mirrored the floating orb from up above. It flickered as the waves offshore rolled over one another, and I wrapped my arms around my body.

  A cool tickle ran over my wrist and I gazed down at the pearl bracelet Patrick had given me just before we were captured by the Hyven. It was the last memory I had of seeing him truly happy, of seeing his brown eyes fill with a deep warmth which engulfed me in their embrace.

  Zale would never be able to replace how it felt. I knew that now, and had known it for quite some
time, but it didn’t change the way I felt about him. I did love him and had told him as much the last time I’d seen him.

  It was as though there was a separate compartment in my heart for Zale. I knew it could never touch the place I had for Patrick, but as though a sickness had taken over his body, I hung on to who Patrick had been and some of those feelings had carried over to who he was now. Zale was changing, but I had given up hope for his memory ever coming back. Morven had done his work well, and although his control was slipping on Zale, the memory of who he used to be was gone from his mind.

  Pressing my hand to the cool window pane, I watched the waves roll over one another knowing he was out there somewhere, and I hoped more than anything he was thinking of me. During the day, I could distract myself from the memory of him, but at night, I yearned for the feeling of his arms around me, holding me safe within his embrace.

  Crawling back into bed, I pulled the covers tightly around my body for protection and to imitate the feeling of being held. It didn’t work, but slowly my exhausted mind gave in and I drifted off to a peaceful sleep.

  It wasn’t until I awoke the next morning that I realized the sheathed dagger had lain on top of the covers all night against my stomach. I shuddered to think it was the only reason I felt safe.

  2. Warning

  Another week passed without event and the strain of not knowing what was happening was beginning to wear on my nerves. I could see my short temper getting the better of those around me, but I couldn’t seem to pull myself out of the constant worry threatening to take hold of my every thought.

  “Lissie, you aren’t playing right,” Justin said and smacked my hand lightly, his little fingers pulling me out of my thoughts. I was sitting on the floor of the living room with Kaleb in my lap, supposedly participating in the matchbox car crashes Justin created, even though he seemed to want us to watch more than play. Unfortunately for me, the game didn’t provide enough entertainment to keep my mind from getting distracted. At least Kaleb was enthralled with his older brother. The two of them seemed to have their own language when they spoke to one another in garbled English, mixed with loud squeals from the younger of the two.

 

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