I sigh as my body sinks into the satiny pool deep under the house. The heat of the water sends pleasant chills all the way from the top of my head to the tips of my unfurling fins. When I’ve spent an entire day maintaining my legs, letting my control slip and my tail stretch out is a longed-for release. Allowing water to glide over my tail and between each golden scale is bliss. The pure pleasure of it almost silences the constant stream of fearful thoughts that assaults my brain. Almost.
My eyes fluttered shut at the first touch of the hot water on my thirsty skin. Now, I open them again. Amy insisted we hang twinkle lights down here, and they make the abalone surface of the cave walls sparkle an iridescent silver-blue. It’s calming.
The serenity of my surroundings, the rejuvenating water, and the freedom of spreading my fins all combine to soothe my frazzled nerves, and I take deep, relaxing breaths. I won’t be able to help Clay or anyone else if I can’t think straight. I haven’t slept properly in days, so, as the heat claims me and my eyes drift closed again, I let myself doze.
“Hello, sunshine.” The voice is syrupy sweet.
My eyes snap back open. Standing above me, one hand on her popped hip, is Melusine. I sit up straighter along the stone edge of the pool, scrambling to regain my awareness. Am I dreaming?
“Your mom let me in. She’s so eager for us to be friends.”
“She doesn’t know you.” Doesn’t know you’re a monster.
“No. You haven’t told her much at all, have you?” She affects a pout. “Keeping secrets, Lia? What a bad girl you are.”
“W-what are you doing here?” I surreptitiously reach behind me under the water, trying to find a sharp rock I can wiggle loose. She wouldn’t try anything with my parents right upstairs, would she?
“Aren’t you going to invite me in for a dip? I’ve had such a trying day.” She pauses, but I remain silent. What kind of game is she playing? “I’ll invite myself then,” she says, and removes her high-heeled Mary Janes. Part of me wonders if she’s been using some kind of magic to balance in them on the slippery floor of the grotto.
She removes her skirt without a modicum of modesty and before I can even turn my gaze away, her slender coral tail’s in place and she’s sliding into the water.
“Ohh,” she groans, the sound almost guttural. “This is divine.”
“What are you doing here?” I repeat, this time with more force.
She leans her head back and swishes her tail lazily through the water. Back and forth, back and forth …
Right when I’m about to ask again, she looks at me, and the intensity in her eyes belies her relaxed posture. “I wanted to let you know I’m not mad at you, Lia. For taking Clay. For,” she glances around as if double checking that we’re alone and whispers, “sirening him away from me.” She smiles like we’re both in on a secret.
Part of me wants to wipe the smile off her annoyingly symmetrical face and scream that “sirening” isn’t the password to some secret clubhouse. But I’m so shocked by her words that all I say is, “You’re not?”
“No.” She makes the word lilting, soothing. Then she glides toward me through the water, her movements serpentine. She stops with less than a foot between us. “In fact, I have a little proposition for you.”
The steam rises from the water and clings in small droplets to her hair and skin. “You watched me talk to Jake earlier. Isn’t he delectable? All that water polo sure does a body good. Have you seen his arms?” she asks, and she runs a hand up one of mine before stroking it back down.
I shudder and shrink back, but she doesn’t move her hand away. Her manicured nails lightly graze my skin. “Jake’s tall and buff and even passably intelligent. And from what I’ve heard in the girls’ locker room, he’d make a very talented boyfriend.”
This time I knock her hand away. “You can’t have Jake. I won’t let you.”
She lets out a throaty laugh, and the sound echoes off the domed walls of the grotto. “Oh, I don’t want Jake.”
“You don’t?” The heat, so calming when I was alone, is now oppressive, addling my brain.
“Nope.” She leans in close again and whispers in my ear: “He’d be the perfect present. For you.”
“What?” She can’t mean what I think she means.
“I know you sirened Clay practically by accident. That song you sang? He tried to sing it to me a few times. As if I have the patience to sit through his scribblings.”
I glare at her. That bitch.
“So,” she continues as if she hasn’t noticed my reaction, “you only managed to get him under your power because he’d written a song. Not every guy in school spends his time sitting around mooning to music—thank the current—so it’s not like you could siren anyone else. But I can.” Her lips curl into a devious smile. “I’m offering you a trade. You let Clay go, and I’ll siren Jake for you. I’ll even put a ribbon around his neck.”
“NO!” I don’t think I’ve ever been so disgusted. My head pounds with it. “You’re sick.”
“Come on, Lia.” She keeps her voice nonchalant, but her eyes flame. “Jake’s more popular than Clay. He’s much more—”
“That’s enough! You stay away from both of them, do you hear me? If you try to siren either one of them, I’ll go straight to the Foundation and you’ll be sent back to the ocean. They’ll drop you in a warzone. I don’t think you’d like being torn tail from limb by crazed rebels.”
“Aww … what a brave little bluff. Got any more?”
“I’m not bluffing. I’ll tell.”
“Right,” she says, her tone dripping sarcasm. “Even if we pretend that you’d be able to tell on me without revealing your own recent musical proclivities, you’d still have to reveal Clay’s identity. And who knows what they’d do to him?” She puts on a mock-fearful expression, her eyes going wide. “Don’t think I don’t know about your little crush. You’d never put Clay’s life at risk by telling on me. It’s cute really.”
She wraps her tail around mine under the water, a gesture far too intimate, and says in her low, melodic voice, “No one likes a tattletail.”
I can’t take it anymore. I push her back by the shoulders, her heated skin nearly burning my palms. “Don’t touch me.”
But she just keeps talking. “You want Jake for that? Bet he feels good. You could be like a normal girl, Lia, with a normal human boyfriend. All you have to do is release Clay back to me and I’ll fix everything for you.” She tries to keep her voice composed, but a wild, desperate edge sneaks into it.
Wait …
“Why do you want Clay so much? You don’t even seem to like him.”
“You’re such a child.” In a blink, Melusine has summoned her legs and is rising out of the steaming water. “Don’t worry your pretty little head about it.” She shimmies back into her skirt, the fabric hugging her damp legs. Picking up her enviable Mary Janes, she turns back to face me. “Consider my offer, Lia. I’m trying to … I’m not your enemy.” For a moment, the sibilance of Mermese creeps into her voice, and she sounds like she’s hissing. She must work so hard to conceal her accent. “And trust me—you don’t want me to be.” With that final threat, she’s gone.
Chapter Thirteen
The biggest change is the touching.
The way he takes my hand in his when we walk to class.
The way he drapes his arm across my shoulders—strong and safe—when we sit at our desks or in the library.
The way he pulls my hips a few inches closer to his body when we practice self-defense.
Or now. The way he reaches across the small table and curls a strand of my hair around his finger before tucking it behind my ear.
We’re at my favorite sushi place near Paradise Cove. I swore to Clay I wouldn’t make him do anything he didn’t want to do, and I remember he said sushi is his favorite food. So, I figure if he had the choice, he’d like to come here. Yeah, but would he come here with you? a little voice insi
de me questions. I ignore it.
On the days I go to the Foundation (where my research still hasn’t turned up anything), I have to siren Clay at the end of the school day, then call him later in the evening and sing to him again. That way, if Melusine tries anything, he’s out of her reach. But I want Clay to be able to be himself. So, any day I’m not expected at the Foundation, I spend the entire afternoon with him. As long as we’re together, it’s safe to let the enchantment wear off. Some days, we hang with his friends, so they can see him acting normal. But today, it’s just the two of us. As we sip iced green tea and wait for our order—the siren song waning with every passing minute—Clay’s almost back to himself.
“So they did this experiment where they tested different frequencies of sound. They made them visible with some type of powder and showed that sound creates these beautiful geometric patterns. It’s gotten like, three million views. Pretty awesome.”
“Sound has shape?” I ask.
“Yeah, we just can’t see it. Imagine all the other incredible stuff in the world we must not know about. Maybe we’d be able to see it if we just knew where to look.” He lets his gaze drift out over the ocean view from our table on the restaurant’s balcony. “Did you know humans have explored less than five percent of the ocean? Crazy, right?”
“Actually less than one percent if you include the deep ocean instead of just the ocean floor,” I correct automatically. Then I look up at him. Is it weird I know that?
His smile widens. “Maybe one day I’ll take some scuba lessons. Get out there and explore some of it myself.”
“You’d want to do that?” I’m surprised. “I thought you wanted to write songs and symphonies.”
“I do. Think about all the songs I’d be inspired to write after deep-sea diving.”
It’s comforting to hear Clay talking like himself again.
“Of course, the ocean’s not as beautiful as you are.” Well, almost like himself. Even once the sireny wears off enough that Clay’s personality comes back, that part sticks. I guess being enamored with your siren is too essential to the spell to just fizzle.
My face must fall at his words because he says, “What? I thought girls liked guys to tell them how beautiful they are.” The waitress hears Clay’s words as she sets down our plates and shoots me a dirty, jealous look before disappearing.
“As a general rule we do, but … ”
“But, what? Guys tell you so often that you’re sick of hearing it?” His smile is cheeky.
“Trust me, that’s not it.” The twins—with their bouncing blond curls and their bouncing bikini tops—always have guys fawning all over them, but my love life makes watching a sea slug sound exciting.
“Well, you are. I’ve always thought so.”
Really? Has he really always thought I’m… or is that just the spell talking?
“So, gorgeous, what’ll it be? Beach Breeze?” he asks, gesturing to the California roll topped with sweet shrimp that I always order. “Or Too Hot to Handle?” He opens his chopsticks and points them at the spicy tuna concoction he insisted we try. I love tuna as much as the next Mermaid, but the slices of jalapeno stacked high on top of this one have always scared me off.
“Too Hot,” I say decisively.
Clay raises an eyebrow in challenge as he loads wasabi on top of it. But I’m not backing down. I cross my arms over my chest and try to look like I couldn’t be bothered. What am I getting myself into?
Clay lifts a piece between his chopsticks, dips one corner in soy sauce, then brings it to my lips. I lean over the table, and take a bite.
“What you’ll need to remember to ace your lab,” my A.P. Bio teacher lectures, “is to carefully consider all your observations.”
As we review the carbon cycle for the umpteenth time, I take his advice.
Observation 1: Melusine has left Jake alone.
I’ve seen him approach her in the hall a few times, but she’s ignored him. I’m not sure whether to be grateful she hasn’t sirened him or confused as hell about why she hasn’t. All those hallway make out sessions made me think maybe Melusine wanted Clay as some kind of boy toy arm candy. But if that were true, she’d just siren Jake. What is she hiding? If I can figure that out, maybe I can find a way to help Clay. One that doesn’t involve stripping him of his free will multiple times a day.
Observation 2: Melusine hasn’t so much as talked to Clay since her failed attempt to get him back.
This would make sense if she’d moved on to Jake, but she hasn’t. As far as I can tell (and I’ve been watching closely), she hasn’t moved on to anyone.
Observation 3: She hasn’t talked to me either, but she keeps … watching me.
She’s doing it now. Clay’s not in bio this period, but Melusine is, and I can feel her gaze on me right this minute, heating up the back of my neck. I look over my shoulder, and our eyes meet across the rows of long, black-topped tables. She smiles at me. She’s biding her time. But until when? And for what?
Observation 4: Melusine knows I’m watching her, too.
So, she’s not going to do anything in front of me that might reveal a clue to her plan.
Conclusion: I need reinforcements.
“So, you want me to spy on a seventeen-year-old girl, but you can’t tell me why?”
I hesitate. Then nod.
“And you don’t know what I’m looking for?”
“Something fishy?” I joke, trying to lighten the mood.
“Ha ha,” Caspian says sarcastically. He swims around me in a slow circle, assessing how serious I am.
We’ve swum out to a cave we discovered as children. When we were little, we dubbed it Star Cave, because starfish of every color—yellow, purple, pink, orange, red—cover the rocky walls like wallpaper. It’s only accessible from underneath, so humans never come here, and it’s well within the Border line so it isn’t off-limits. Under the waves, the limestone is thick with soft lichen.
Once you break the surface, moonlight streams in through a small crevice in the mountainside. It plays off the walls and water, scattering in a million directions, making magic. The ceiling stretches high enough that both of us can sit comfortably on the rocky platform along one side. I can still stand up if I bend a bit, but Caspian, now a towering 6’3”, couldn’t if he wanted to. Luckily, with his tail in place, that isn’t a problem. We could never outgrow this cave—we’ve shared too many memories here. One wall still bears the drawings we scrawled as children, clumsy stick figures of humans on their mysterious legs. We’d wanted so much to be older, more grown up.
The day Caspian showed me his legs for the first time, he took me out here to our cave and brought a towel with him. Of course, by the time we got here it was soaked, and I kept asking him about it, but he wouldn’t say a word. He hoisted himself up onto the ledge, tied the towel around his waist, and squeezed his eyes shut. His silver scales—so much like my gold ones—transformed into two well-formed legs.
I’d looked on in awe, but even though his legs were so fascinating to me (so much thicker and more masculine with their light dusting of hair than my older sisters’ legs), I’d known I mustn’t touch them. I still haven’t.
My mind flashes to when Clay and I were sitting on the school bus, his hand on my thigh. I can still feel it resting there. But I can’t let either memory distract me now. The stakes are too high.
“Look, Caspian. I know I’m being vague. I can’t tell you much because I don’t want to put you in any danger.” That’s partly true. I want to protect Caspian. If any of this ever gets out, I won’t have Caspian’s family’s reputation more tarnished by sireny than it already is. But there’s another reason I can’t tell him that Melusine’s a siren. If I did, I’d have to tell him I’m one, too.
And he’d never speak to me again.
Maybe that sounds melodramatic, but it’s true. To Caspian, I’d seem no better than Adrianna, who condemned his whole family line to ridicule. A
nd maybe I’m not. If what I’m doing got out, wouldn’t my family fall just as far? Maybe even farther, since we’re supposed to be the upright, moral figureheads of the Foundation. Of the whole land-dwelling Mer Community. I picture my parents and my sisters disgraced because of my actions. Little Amy, her face stained with the tears of rejection—shunned because of me.
But I can’t undo what I’ve done and I can’t stop doing it. Not until I find another way out. That means it’s even more important that I figure out what Melusine is plotting as soon as possible. Then I can stop her, release Clay, and put all of this behind me. Hopefully, Caspian will never have to know the whole story. And he’ll never have to hate me.
“All I can tell you,” I continue, “is that Melusine has access to ancient Mer magic and she’ll use it to hurt someone if we don’t stop her.”
“Do you know who?”
“A human named Clay. Maybe others, too.”
“Isn’t he her boyfriend?”
“Not anymore.”
“Look, Goldfish, I’m always here to help you, but I barely know these people. I know you go to school with them and all, but what does this even have to do with you?”
“I’m responsible for Clay. He’s … ” What? My friend? My soul mate? My victim? “My boyfriend.” Well, what else am I supposed to say?
He opens his mouth then closes it again. Then he opens it and says, “Oh.” He leans back against the wall, crossing his arms over his chest. “I didn’t realize you were dating anyone.”
“It’s sort of a new development.”
“Lia, I’m not judging, but … a human? I know the twins mess around with them, but actually dating one? If your parents found out they’d—”
“Murder me? Yeah, I’m aware. That’s why they can’t know.” I level my gaze at him. His eyes, shockingly blue even in the dim light, narrow for a fraction of a second. Then he nods once. He won’t tell them.
“Are you being safe?” he asks.
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