by Jade Kerrion
Fiancé?
Ashe’s glance flashed to Varun before refocusing on Ondine. The knot in her chest had to be anger over Ondine’s presumptions. It could not possibly be distress over Varun’s silence about his engagement. Her thoughts whirred, unfocused. Her easy conversation with Varun in the laboratory, free from sarcastic bickering, had lulled her from her instinctive defensiveness. She had relaxed. She had forgotten who he was.
Nothing.
He is nothing to me.
Like his grandfather of generations past, he is nothing to me.
Ondine jabbed her index finger at Ashe’s chest. “You stay the hell away from him. He’s too good for you!”
Ashe’s fingers danced, the motions as snappy as a retort. Jinn almost stumbled over himself trying to translate quickly enough. The past blurred into the present. Her whirring emotions made the details—the critical differences—impossible to tease apart. “I do not want your man. He is both blind and a fool.” She shot Varun a furious glare. Her memories blended his face with that of his ancestor, the prince who had once spurned a mermaid. “I have paid—my family has paid—the price of my stupidity and my gullibility. Enough. Never again. Keep your man. He is nothing to me.”
Blood rushed, pounding like jackhammers, through her skull. She pushed past Varun and Ondine, stalking out of the corridor and into the cool of the night. A passing breeze caressed her and soothed her as she stared out at the ocean, black as ink. The ache in her chest swelled into her throat, blocking it. The ocean had once been her home. She had always known that she had missed it. In her first few years as a Daughter of Air, she had longed for the ocean so deeply that she was, on her best days, walking wounded. Over time, she learned to put her pain aside, but she realized now, she had not gotten over it; she had merely walled it off.
All the pain was still there. Everything she had lost because a man had been too blind, too selfish to see what was in front of him.
She was done with men.
She was done with that man’s family—including his grandson, thirteen generations later.
Her assignment, notwithstanding; his destiny, notwithstanding; she was done with Varun.
Chapter 10
The moon was low on the western horizon, its light muted in the pink glow emerging in the east. Salt scented the air, the fragrance familiar, even comforting. The wooden planks of the deck creaked softly beneath Varun’s feet as he walked toward the captain who leaned far over the rail, looking at something in the water. If he didn’t know better, it almost seemed as if Ashe were talking to someone in the water, or perhaps merely communing with the ocean.
He shook his head. Ashe’s knowledge of mermaids, her ability to swim underwater without diving equipment—
Yet she had no tail, nor did she grow one when in the water.
If she wasn’t a mermaid, what was she?
Not human, obviously.
What other mythological creatures were actually real? Sirens? Nymphs? Ocean gods and goddesses? God forbid, the leviathan and the kraken?
Heck, was the Loch Ness Monster real too?
A muscle ticked in his cheek. As a marine biologist, he had never pretended to know everything about the ocean, but he had a line clearly drawn between reality and fantasy. The line was smudged now, in part, due to the woman who stood out there, alone, peering over the ship as if reaching for something she had lost.
What is she?
Definitely not a naive mermaid.
Ashe was the captain of a marine research vessel and was apparently well-regarded in the industry. She did not just appear out of the air.
Human, then.
But no human could breathe underwater the way she did, or swim as quickly as she.
Were gods real? Did gods have children?
Was she a demigoddess—part human, part divine?
“What do you want?” Jinn squawked from his perch on the rail. “Dumbass,” the parrot added, almost as an afterthought.
Varun was fairly certain the name calling had been Jinn’s initiative, not Ashe’s. Would a demigoddess put up with a foul-mouthed parrot?
“Don’t you ever sleep, you little feathered fiend?” Varun asked the parrot. He turned to Ashe, who had not moved from the rail. “Ashe—”
Jinn screeched, “That’s captain to you!”
Captain? When had he stopped thinking of her as the captain and started thinking of her as Ashe? He was still mulling over it when she straightened and turned around. Her eyes were dry, her expression composed.
He could not believe he had imagined, even for a moment, that Ashe—the calm, unflappable captain of the Veritas—would not be. Best not to make any reference to her earlier startling, and personally insulting, outburst in front of Ondine at the laboratory. “I have the results of the blood analysis.”
Her fingers flicked a response. Jinn spoke for her. “Well?”
“I can tell you what’s in her blood, but I can’t tell you what’s wrong unless I have a normal sample to compare against.”
“So you want to catch another mermaid?”
“A normal one, this time. Do you know where to find them?”
She did not reply.
He waited for several moments, then said, “Are you able to talk to her? Do mermaids understand English?”
“Some do.”
Varun’s eyes widened. “Really?”
“Why would something like that surprise you? People do what they have to in order to communicate.”
“Does this one understand English?”
“I’m not sure.”
“Did you say anything to her?”
“Yes.”
“But not in English.”
“No.”
“What language, then?”
“Their language.”
“You know—” He caught himself. “Will you teach me?”
“No.”
“Is no your standard answer to any request I make?”
“Yes.”
“Ashe, I—”
“Do you think humans are crazy?”
He frowned, startled by her sudden change in topic. “Yes, sometimes.”
Jinn’s tone softened, mirroring the gracefully hypnotic dance of Ashe’s fingers. “The merfolk can be crazy too, and there’s less in their way to thwart them. They rule the oceans the way mankind has dominated the Earth. There may be fewer merfolk than there are people, but they have an advantage. They can survive on land. Humans cannot live in the water.”
“I don’t get where you are going with this.”
“Merfolk are fiercely territorial, and they have been burned often enough by man’s acquisitiveness. They will react violently if they think man is reaching for more than belongs to him. Learning their language—”
“It’s just learning their language! It’s communication!”
“It’s the first step toward insidiously inculcating yourself with them.”
Varun’s eyes narrowed. “Is that how you see it? I am a scientist, not a world conqueror. I just want to understand.”
“They don’t appreciate being understood. When someone understands, they understand not just strengths but weaknesses.”
“I think I’ve figured out why Jinn perches on your shoulder. It’s to balance out the weight of the chip on your other shoulder.” Varun shook his head. “Is that all life is to you? Blocking and tackling? Scheming and planning? Never letting one side get too powerful? Harboring your hatred of all men?”
Ashe folded her arms across her chest. “I don’t hate men.”
“Then me. Or something about me. Don’t deny it. I heard it in your voice, saw it in your eyes, when you denounced men in front of Ondine. Something a man did hurt you and your family, and somehow you blame me. Was it someone I knew?”
“No.” The snap of Ashe’s fingers was crisper than the click of Jinn’s beak.
“Stop saying no.”
“Non, nyet, never.”
Her response caught Varun off-guard
, and he burst into laughter. The laughter faded away, though. “Look, Ashe. You wanted me to help, and I’m here. I can help, but I need information, and right now, what I need is a sample of normal mermaid blood.”
“Normal could be hard to get, at least quickly and easily. Would you settle for close to normal?”
“Define close.”
“You scientist types.” She rolled her eyes. “It will be close enough to surmise the differences between a healthy and a diseased mermaid. From there, maybe you can figure out what the differences mean.”
He thought it through, then said, “Fine. It’ll be good enough as a start. And you can get this sample quickly?”
She nodded.
“From where?”
She said nothing. He noticed she did not actually lie. She simply refused to answer.
Where could she get a sample of blood easily and quickly—if not from her own veins?
Are you a mermaid?
The question lingered, unasked, on the tip of his tongue. He stared at her. She looked human in every way—her skin the deep honey shade of Middle Eastern cultures. She was mute, but so what? And she had legs that didn’t magically turn into a tail when she hit the water.
She had to be human, right?
Yet, the question remained. Are you a mermaid?
If he gave it voice, it would change everything between them—regardless of whether her answer was yes, no, or utter silence.
He reached into his pocket and pulled out one of the test tubes that he habitually carried everywhere. “Will this work?”
She took it from him. Answer enough.
I’m not ready for the truth. He turned and walked away. His lips twisted into a grimace. If she’s a mermaid, then what…?
What would change if she were indeed a mermaid?
Varun swallowed hard. He did not know. He could not wrap his mind around it. Heck, he was still working his mind around the fact that he knew far less about the ocean than he had ever imagined. He pushed open the door to the laboratory. Take that mermaid for example—
The examination table was empty.
His eyes widened. Damn it.
He ran his fingers over the thin layer of mucous on the table. No, he wasn’t traversing between dreams and reality. The mermaid had been here, and somehow, in the ten minutes he had been outside, talking to Ashe, she had vanished. Could someone on the ship have come in and set her free?
No, Varun dismissed the possibility. No one knew the mermaid was on the ship, let alone in his laboratory. No one came into his laboratory anyway.
Which meant that the mermaid was still in the lab.
He turned on the cameras in the three tanks, but saw nothing in the deep blue water except for the few small fish that had been caught when the tanks were filled with seawater several days earlier.
If she wasn’t in there, where else could she be?
He glanced all around his lab. There were no dark corners, no places to hide. Besides, a mermaid would return to her habitat—the water. She had to be in one of the three tanks.
Keeping a careful distance, he circled the holding tanks. Draining them was an option, but he would not be able to do that alone, not even with Ashe’s help. Was he really up to telling the entire crew that they had a captive mermaid onboard?
His gaze swept over the tanks.
The surface of the first holding tank was smooth, the water unmoving. Something rippled the water in the second tank. A bubble popped against the surface of the third, the sound unexpectedly loud in the silence of the laboratory.
Varun’s eyes narrowed into a squint. Was the mermaid in the second or third holding tanks? As he strode past the first tank, the flawless surface tension of water broke, spraying droplets into the air. A slender mermaid leaped out of the tank, coiled like a predator poised to kill.
Varun spun around and grabbed the mermaid’s wrists before her long claws tore at his eyes. She snarled something in a language he couldn’t understand. Her incisors were longer than a human’s, and sharper. Despite her sleek form, she possessed wiry strength. A flick of her tail knocked him off balance. His back hit the ground hard, pulsing shafts of pain along his spine. Her powerful momentum shoved them along the slick tiles. Still grappling, they tumbled back into the water.
Varun let go of her and kicked hard to break the surface, but she grabbed his arms and pulled him deeper into the tank. He held his breath, fought as hard as he could, but his vision rapidly grayed around the edges.
In the laboratory, a shadow fell over the screens monitoring the three holding tanks. One of the screens clearly displayed Varun’s attempt to escape from the mermaid. The shadow lingered for several moments as Varun’s resistance inevitably weakened, his kicks feeble, his limbs sluggish.
A hand moved over the computer and flicked three switches.
The screens went black.
Ashe, with Jinn perched on her shoulder, walked into a silent, empty laboratory. Too silent. She set the test tube of blood down on the table and took a cursory glance at the monitors. The screens were dark.
The holding tanks appeared still, the water calm.
The air, however, was not. Molecules of air vibrated, trembling, shivering, all but screaming.
Her head snapped up, her eyes flaring wide. Varun!
Jinn took off, squawking with alarm, as Ashe dove into the nearest tank and kicked toward the two shadowy figures near the bottom of the tank.
The mermaid released Varun’s limp body. Her teeth bared, she launched herself at Ashe.
If Ashe wanted to save him, she was out of time.
To hell with this.
Astral energy exploded out of her. Her body dissolved into air before coalescing into a whirlwind.
The mermaid’s eyes flared wide. She twisted around but there was nowhere to flee.
The spinning tornado, each slender band of air as lethal as a honed blade, sliced into the mermaid. Her body arched. Her skin split—a thousand, a hundred thousand paper cuts, blending, merging, expanding.
Ashe shredded the mermaid.
The creature’s final breath escaped through a thousand wounds. Her body sagged backward, slowly floating toward the surface. Her blood—black as the night—spilled into the tank.
The whirlwind swept beneath Varun and propelled him out of the water, hurling him into the air. The spinning storm dissipated; the astral energy that had powered it coalesced into a physical form. Ashe caught Varun as he dropped from the air. She lowered him quickly to the floor and pressed her lips to his. Air forced through his lungs, clearing his airways. She broke off the kiss and turned his face to the side as water expelled out of his lungs.
Varun sucked in a deep breath. His body quivered, and then his eyes opened. His glazed gaze slowly cleared and focused on her face. “You saved me again.”
Ashe’s fingers danced a reply. From his perch on the computers, Jinn squawked, “Bad habits are hard to break.”
Varun’s gaze traveled a little lower, before yanking back up to her face. He stared at her, then swallowed hard. “You’re not—” His face flushed slightly.
Yeah, right. Clothes did not transition between her physical and astral forms. Only her pendant did—and she had long ceased to wonder why. Some questions she simply did not have any answers for.
“There are towels in that drawer.” He nudged his head toward the desks.
She stood, and noticed that he rolled to the other side, keeping his gaze politely averted.
As she pulled a towel from the drawer, she heard his muttered, “Shit.”
She turned around.
The water in the tank was dark. The mermaid’s body floated on the surface, but it was not alone in death. Fish floated. Everything in the tank was dead.
Chapter 11
Varun looked up from his examination of the dissected fish and reached over his shoulder to massage a tender spot on his neck.
It was wrong. Several degrees of wrong. So far wrong that he could not begi
n to put words to it. Nothing in his scientific training provided him with an explanation for what he was seeing.
The fish’s gills were black.
The flesh around the gills was black, as if the corruption had begun in the gills and was spreading outward to consume the entire fish’s body. Disease could do that—certainly—but over days and weeks. Not in seconds.
It did not make sense.
Nothing made sense, even though he had wrapped his mind around the concept of a mermaid. He glanced at the mermaid’s body, covered beneath a black-stained sheet. It was hideous—worse than hideous in death—its body slashed by what appeared to be a thousand knives.
Death had to have been excruciating.
And where had Ashe been the entire time?
Varun, drifting on the edge of unconsciousness, had caught a glimpse of Ashe, and then—nothing. In her place, water twisted and spun on the whim of an underwater tornado. The mermaid had shied away and tried to retreat, but there was no place to run. The tornado, as if alive and driven by conscious will and deliberate intent, had shredded the mermaid ruthlessly.
Where had Ashe been? He had not seen her.
A powerful force had propelled him out of the water. He squeezed his eyes shut against the sudden stomach-churning vertigo.
He opened his eyes to find himself in Ashe’s arms.
Her hair was no longer black, but a mesmerizing blend of sapphire and emerald hues. And she was naked.
Her clothes he had eventually found at the bottom of the first holding tank when using the underwater camera to search for any sign of life.
Assuming he had imagined none of it, he had many disconnected facts, and no logical way of connecting them.
Unless he had imagined it all. Ashe either was there, or she was not. Not even mermaids could appear and disappear at will.
Varun closed his eyes. What the hell was wrong with him?