by Ros Baxter
Then something strange happened. Something that happens very rarely, and only when someone is trying hard to hide a thought from another. A thin portal opened up into Carragheen’s mind. He was working so hard to shield his thoughts from his mother that he wasn’t guarding them carefully enough from others. It surprised me so much I almost squeaked as I tried to understand. And then I got it. He thought I was deep in sleep, and that no-one else was around. He thought he was safe.
I shouldn’t have listened in, of course, but I’m just not noble enough to stop myself.
I could hear with absolute clarity what he was thinking as he spoke to his mother:
Imagine, to be loved like that. A man like my father. She understands him. Who could ever understand my choices?
And then I drifted off again.
My eyes fluttered open again and I recognised the melody, different underwater, different in the Aegiran language, yet unmistakeable.
My stomach clenched, somewhere between fascination and dread as the love song worked its magic. It was being sung slower than the original, more like a lullaby, but there was no mistaking the tenderness wrapped around each note.
And no mistaking the voice. Soft, slow and infinitely sexy.
I was up instantly, following the sound, my cop sense telling me this wasn’t going to be good. As I weaved between golden arches into the sleeping space close by, I almost forgot the delicate skill of water breathing again and choked on my own breath as those deep, dark vocals caressed the next line.
Sweet Jesus. Or, more accurately Sweet Child O’ Mine. Axel Rose at his dreamy best.
I saw the child reclining against his chest, gazing up at Carragheen as he sang her to sleep. His face was so open as he gazed down at her that once again I caught a glimpse of how he must have been as a child. Less wolf, more trusting cub. I watched for a few minutes, conscious of my invasion but caught off guard by the private moment.
Then the golden wolf’s head snapped up, his arm drawing around the tiny blonde slip protectively. It made my heart thump wildly in my chest and emptied the bottom from my stomach. I couldn’t help thinking that somehow he was more Bon Jovi than Axel Rose, but that wasn’t my main problem with the performance. So tender. And yet such a liar.
How did I make sense of this man?
I fled, swimming like a tsunami, my head filled with plans of escape before I collapsed, spent, back on the bed I had made for myself and closed my eyes.
It was less than a second before I felt him join me.
My brain willed me not to open my eyes but I did it anyway. And there he was, sitting beside the bed and watching me with an inscrutable expression on his sensual face.
“How do you feel?” His indigo eyes were looking right into me.
I return his query. “How do you feel?” After all, he apparently got hit with the thing too, maybe not as bad as me, but he still got a blast. Not bad enough to stop him serenading his daughter, I reminded myself.
“Incredible,” he said, shaking his head, perplexed.
“That’s dolphin medicine for you,” I laughed, feeling a million miles from cheerful.
He moved over to sit next to me on the low, wide bed. It was laid with a mattress of lamonola, these buoyant, fragrant weeds that ruin you for land beds forever. As he came to sit next to me, his eyes held mine and I know where all this was going to lead. And this time it wasn’t some vision. It was just that girl intuition you get just before a guy kisses you. It sits thick and real in the air between you. And I couldn’t wait. I felt like I’d wanted it forever.
Since the shower.
Since I saw him standing at the buffet with his wolf’s smile.
I tried to stop it. “Where’s your wife, and child?”
“Tila lives here, Rania, but not Leisen. And I told you before, I can explain.”
I knew it was wrong. Goddamit I knew it was wrong, but I put my hand on his arm and didn’t let him finish. I didn’t want to hear what he had to say. I had no idea what it meant, but just for now I wanted to taste him. I knew I’d regret it, thinking about it later. I am, at heart, a good girl. And there were too many unanswered questions about him now. I’m Sicilian. Suspicion was burned into my cells at conception. And I’m a cop too. Trusting’s never been a great help in the field. Especially when someone lies to you from the start.
I felt myself shiver, like my skin was trying to shake off all threat and doubt.
“Don’t worry,” he whispered, dark and close. He traced one finger around the curve of my face, starting at the place where my hair meets my forehead, then sliding down the outside of one cheek, rubbing my chin with his thumb. “I will protect you.”
I knew it was true, somehow I knew it was true. But I had no idea who was going to protect me from him. Because right now he could do anything to me he wanted.
When he kissed me, it was like my whole body rolled over and said: Well, finally, that’s what we’ve been after all this time. It was hot and fierce, but endlessly comforting at once. His tongue was warm behind the cool of his lips, and his hands traced slow, deliberate circles across my back and through my hair. He laid me down beside him and ran the flat of his hands all over me, like he was trying to imprint the very image of me onto them. The sensation was like nothing I’ve ever felt. The rough rasp of his warm palms through the cold press of the water.
There was a low, slow ache in my breasts and my nipples were tight and tingly as my stomach slid into a jittery dance, the very center of me on slow burn. I watched, mesmerized, as the finger that had caressed my face slid down my neck, across my chest and towards my belly, circling my navel in long, slow loops that had my hips starting to buck a little in impatience.
“Rania, Carragheen, it’s time.” We jumped in horrified unison at Mom’s voice. I wondered if Aegir himself kept sending people to interrupt us. And if that should make me worry. As I leapt up, he caught my arm. His hand was so strong it frightened me and I thought about what I’d heard in his head. What choices had he meant? What the hell was I doing?
I pulled away, but he cupped big, warm hands around my face. “Be careful, Rania.”
He didn’t try to hide the thought that echoed in his brain as I left. I will not lose you.
Chapter Nine
A Link and a Hidden Thing
Dirtwater
The mist was clearing and I felt like I could almost drag myself up out of Mom’s Jacuzzi. I looked over at her, floating on the top of the lightly rose-scented water, a tiny blue-green fish darting around her like she was an interesting island. She looked peaceful, but she was still scattered. She’s older, so it takes her longer to come round.
I stepped out of the tub, wrapped myself in one of Mom’s fluffy towels, perched on the toilet and waited. It might take a few minutes. It’s weird watching someone who’s not quite back where you are yet. It’s like seeing them empty of themselves. Just bodies, waiting for their souls to join them. Her blonde hair was spread like golden seaweed. Soft and thick, like liquid.
I looked around the little bathroom, and found it impossible that bad things could happen here. It was one thing to feel menace licking at you seven miles under the sea. That place seems magical, spooky, like something out of a Grimm fairy tale. Dirtwater, on the other hand, is like any crappy, commonplace home town, where bad things can’t get you. Except that after the scene at the morgue, I knew they could. I knew now. Evil can get you, wherever you are, and the only thing you can do is try to face it. One thing I knew for sure, there was no way I was going to let what happened to Cleedaline, and to me, happen to Lecanora, or Mom.
My thoughts flipped to Aegira. I’ve spent my whole life being mixed up about the place. Like some slightly embarrassing home town you don’t want to take a new lover back to. But something had shifted. When I thought about it now, the peril of it, I felt a strong surge of protectiveness, and I knew Aegira was part of me. Part of me I needed to fight to protect.
And not only to disprove the Seer’s pr
ediction and save my own ass, but to save her. Save Aegira, and all the people there I loved. Change the course of destiny and make them safe, if that was what the bloody prophesy actually meant.
Not Carragheen, I assured myself. I didn’t mean Carragheen.
My mind was buzzing with the clear, sharp awareness that song-traveling awakens in you, so my reconditioned brain switched into planning mode. I needed to start with Cleedaline. Follow her trail. And touch in with Doug. Find out if everything had been okay. Find out if he was okay. Run like a baby into his arms. Away from the Big Bad Wolf. Fish. Wolfish fish.
I shook my head at this wild train of thought.
“Ransha, my love, what are you thinking?”
I swivelled, and realized Mom was back, looking golden pink, and scrubbed and alert. Like a kid in a shampoo ad. I imagined her hurting, or dead, and I shook my head again and focused instead on her loveliness. Some genes. She looked so young, her beautiful, lithe body taut and smooth. Mine was already droopier than that. Blame the Sicilian genes. And the pasta and Twinkies. Okay, so the Southern Comfort and cigarettes probably didn’t help either.
“I was just thinking where to start.” The urge was strong to go to where the clues were. Quickly. And maybe to go to Doug for some uncomplicated comfort. To excise the imprint of a hot mouth and big hands. But there were some things I needed from Mom first.
I raised an eyebrow at her. “So, you gonna tell me what you did?”
She looked like she was considering obfuscation, so I cut her off at the past. Straight into her brain. Back in Aegira, Mom. What did you do while I was sleeping?
Mom smiled at me. Sleeping? Is that what it’s called now? When I was your age, we had another name for it entirely. She was smiling at me, and I went pink.
This time she frowned. It’s okay, Ransha, you can talk to me.
I frowned grouchily right back at her. I don’t know what you’re talking about.
Mom sighed, and I heard the tiniest echo in her mind, deep inside the sigh, that said: Of course it would be him…
I felt my senses snap to alert. What? Mom, what is it? Don’t you …like Carragheen?
I realized afterwards it was a stupid question, that it made me sound like an eager teenager, asking my friends whether they think my new guy’s a hottie. Leaving aside the elephant in the room. The little fact of him being married and all. With a kid, I reminded myself, just to twist the knife a little further.
Mom was studying me carefully. He’s beautiful, Ransha. It’s just… sometimes you are so like me. Just when I think you have enough of your father in you to keep you safe.
I really was utterly perplexed. What does that mean? I prompted her again. Mom? What do you mean? Nothing about you could ever be dangerous.
Mom was being characteristically mysterious. She sighed again. Sometimes it’s our natures that are dangerous. Our desires.
Then the mist seemed to clear fully for her, and she focused on me again. She shook her head this time, and seemed to make up her mind about something. Don’t worry about it right now, my love. I can’t discuss it all now, too much song-traveling for me. But I shouldn’t… I don’t think this is the same.
The same as what? Her words made me wonder again. About her. About why she’s so dark on mermen. Who did a job on her? Does she see echoes of him, whoever he was, in Carragheen? Even if he wasn’t married (with a kid), how could I unleash the things I feel with him when something about him makes my Mom scared for me?
I decided it was a conversation for another time.
“So, Mom,” I started again, switching to speech because it was nice to exercise my vocal chords properly again after the time underwater. “Where did you go? What did you find out?”
“I went to visit an old friend,” Mom said cryptically.
And then, because I looked mutinous at her response, she provided more. “Epaste.”
“Epaste is an old friend?” I scrunched up my face liked I’d smelled something rotten. It was impossible to imagine Mom friends with that superior old walrus. “How? From when?”
Mom laughed, tinkling prettily, and I knew she really was back completely.
“People aren’t always as they seem, Ransha,” she scolded. “I would have thought if I’ve taught you anything, I’ve taught you that. Epaste is a good man.”
“So he helped you?” I was eager to learn more.
“No,” Mom responded shortly. “No, he didn’t. But he knows more than he’s sharing.” She waited a heartbeat and then continued. “The problem with Aegira right now is that everyone is trying to protect someone, or trying to solve the thing on their own. This is what evil does. It separates us, make us lonely. Sometimes for good reasons.”
“You think he’s trying to protect someone?” I deduced.
“Yes,” she replied quietly, wiping her hair slowly with her towel.
“Who?”
“I don’t know,” she answered simply. “But he must have his reasons. I’ve never told you this, Ransha, but Epaste was a friend of mine, when I was young. My very best friend, actually. Something happened between us, and we had a terrible quarrel.”
My skin felt prickly at her revelation. So much I didn’t know. “What happened?”
She shook her head. “It doesn’t matter. We haven’t spoken for a long time. But I know he’s a good man. I know he is one of the few fighting to ensure Aegira continues to provide haven to the lost ones. He believes that all the tribes of the sea need to be as one.”
I wasn’t so sure she was right about Epaste. “Even with the no-speakies thing?”
Mom sighed again. She was getting good at it. “You shouldn’t assume you know everything about why people do things, Rania. Epaste took a vow of silence many years ago, when he was hurting. Sometimes pride can stand in the way of taking the broader view.”
I tried to compute all Mom was saying. “So you think Shar or Kraken are behind it all?”
Mom interjected quickly. “I don’t know that it’s one of the Triad at all. They’ve each sworn by their lives and honor to serve and protect Aegira, and Queen Imd.”
I saw her hand shake as she brought it to her wet hair. She was trying to convince me to leave this alone. “Shar has been their leader for a long time. He has secrets, I know, but he’s from a long line of wise councilors. Kraken is vain, and more, but… Look, you know I don’t like Kraken, but I had hoped he might have grown, in this role he now holds.”
I wasn’t buying it. “What about the mind-confusing thing? That’s not such a great thing to do to people you care about. Steal their memories.”
Mom considered this as she towelled her hair. “It’s wrong, I agree. It’s vile. But, Ransha, the Aegirans are lost, afraid. The Triad were worried that Imogen might cause ripples they could not contain.”
“Not their choice to make,” I insisted stubbornly, petulantly.
“And I agree. But Aegira is not America. They think first of the collective, the good of all. And I’m not sure one plus one equals two here. I’m not sure that because the Triad did the forgetting thing, that means they’re responsible for Imogen. And Cleedaline. And you.”
At her mention of what happened to me, Mom’s eyes filled with tears, and I realized I was going to have to stop my interrogation. I kissed her forehead lightly as I dropped a towel over her. “I need to go, Mom,” I told her. “I need to go see Doug, and do some other things.”
Mom didn’t question me, but I could see the concern in her eyes. “Stay safe, angel daughter,” she whispered softly.
I smiled at her. “Aha,” I laughed, “I’ve got a secret weapon. These.” With a theatrical flourish, I produced some ear-plugs I’d found in Mom’s bathroom cabinet. “Do your worst, bad guys,” I finished. I pressed another pair into her hands. “Keep these with you,” I insisted.
Leaving the bathroom, I bent down low to fish in the pantry for sustenance, my mind already going to Cleedaline. Carragheen sent her to me, without realizing. It’s like we wer
e connected from the beginning. Now she was dead and her friend was trapped and scared. And alone. “I’ll find her,” I promised Blondie’s memory. “I’ll finish what you started, brave one.”
A wolf whistle behind me startled me.
“Hellooo, sunshine.” There was a deeply appreciative note in Doug’s voice and I could tell right away he was looking at my butt, stuck in the air as I search the lower shelves, where Mom keeps the good stuff.
I whacked my head on the shelf. “Jesus, Doug, what the hell’re you doing?”
He was leaning against the door jamb in black denim and a white tee, looking dark and menacing, except for the goofy smile splitting his rugged face. He wiggled a set of keys at me.
“Left them with me, remember? The keys to Blondie’s temporary home.”
I nodded silently, and checked him out. He was still a very respectable hunk of man, but he suddenly seemed more than that. He looked different, or maybe it was that I was different.
I felt a wave of fondness and gratitude looking at him. For saving me, for protecting Cleedaline. Maybe just for being a big, comforting presence in a freakin’ spooky couple of days.
And there was another thing. Mom’s never going to warn me off this guy.
But as I watched him, Carragheen’s rangy body and wolfish beauty floated before my eyes. Less buff, more ballet dancer. A warm flush crept up my neck at the thought.
Doug looked me quickly up and down. “Oh, sister,” he breathed. “What happened?”
“What?” I asked quickly, checking my reflection in the hall mirror, wondering if the horrors of Aegira had left some indelible stamp on my features.
“You look different,” he said, like he couldn’t quite work out how. “You look… loose.”
“Loose?” What?
“Y’know, relaxed. Did you go get some home town lovin’?” Doug was going for nonchalant but there was vulnerability in the question in his eyes.
“Maybe,” I hedged my bets. There was no way I could go into the Carragheen thing with Doug. Somehow I knew he wouldn’t approve of the whole married-with-a-kid thing. And he definitely wouldn’t like the sneaking around caves stuff. And I’m not sure at all how he would feel about another guy, period. “But enough small talk.”