Falling in Deep Collection Box Set

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Falling in Deep Collection Box Set Page 97

by Pauline Creeden


  Calder focused and just heard her say, “Can’t wait. Tell your parents I say hello.” Mike squeezed her again, threw a wave at Calder, and headed back to the parking area and his running Jeep.

  When Mike had gone, Calder said, “Smart move, leaving him a note.”

  The human façade disappeared. “I didn’t come all this way to fail.” She came nearer and Calder took two steps back. His sandals filled with sand, and the shifting granules nearly tripped him. “Come on,” her eyes fluoresced. “Surely you’ve wondered why Mike finds me so alluring. You might enjoy finding out.”

  The glow enticed Calder, drawing him nearer. An alarm blared in the nearby house. Terror snapped Calder from the hypnosis. His eyes focused on the creature in front of him. “Is that Mike’s house?”

  Venora grinned wickedly, her mouth jerked into a snarl, exposing each white dagger hidden behind her full lips. She snickered. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”

  Calder advanced, his blood heated. “Mike’s house?” He asked again, his voice low and threatening.

  She tossed her head, shrugged, flippant. “Fine, I’ll tell you. But only if you answer a question for me.”

  Sirens sounded, drawing closer, the shrill house alarm still breaking the calm of the empty beach. Calder pursed his lips, his gaze drawn to the houses, but unable to discern anything. I need to know. “Fine, fine, one for one.”

  She smiled wickedly. Calder grunted at her saucy confidence. “It is Mike’s house. Businessman Dan Love had too much to drink, stabbing his heiress wife multiple times before turning his favorite hunting rifle on himself. The police are at the scene right now.” Her eyes took on a glow once more.

  The weight of her admission punched Calder in the stomach, knocking the wind from his lungs. “Oh…” He breathed. “No….” He bellowed. “Why?” He managed the question, pushing it out from within him, pouring anguish into the one syllable.

  Venora still grinned. “Ah. But one for one, and I answered yours, now you must answer mine.” She stepped small half-strides closer with each word. “Where is your whore from Cathair Uisce? Where is Gaire?”

  Calder shook his head. “I won’t tell you.”

  “Give me the mermaid,” Venora demanded. “You made a deal.”

  “Why did you kill them?” Calder yelled the question. “I won’t endanger her.”

  Venora snickered once more. “Then she has not come to claim you, and I can still capture her here in San Francisco. I will make her watch me kill you.” After her admission, she turned and raced up the hill, arrayed in her human façade. Calder gave chase, cursing as he ran across the sand. She had less sand to traverse and managed a wide lead.

  The brunette threw herself behind the wheel of a small sports car that Calder recognized as Mrs. Love’s. Her favorite. Pushing aside the tumult, legs still shaky from shock, he kept running after her. He stopped in front of the vehicle, his arms stretched wide, filling her view. He stretched one hand forward, palm toward the windshield, and bellowed, “No. Stop.”

  The tendrils appeared above her ears and quivered. She did not accelerate, but her lips pulled back into another snarl, her words hissing through clenched teeth. “I cannot kill you… yet, Cold Water.”

  She pressed the accelerator, causing the engine to race, she let off the brake a bit, and the car surged toward Calder. She stomped the brake, and the forward motion halted, the inertia shaking the little convertible back and forth. She did it again, a crazed cackle escaping her throat. “I will have what I want. Gaire will lose.”

  The car lurched forward and ground to a stop once more. “Move,” Vee screeched through the open window. White knuckles on the steering wheel rolled forward, then back, then forward again, gripping and re-gripping the white leather.

  Calder launched himself toward the passenger side of the vehicle. Vee’s slender fingers entered Calder’s peripheral vision, grasped the wood grain head of the gearshift, found a new gear, and dumped the clutch.

  Vee accelerated toward him, yanking the steering wheel to her left just before hitting him, but Calder reflexed, pitched his hips to his left, and then spun toward the getaway vehicle. Seeing an opportunity as the red hood began to pass him, he threw himself at the small opening. He grasped the soft leather of the passenger seat, hauling himself through the passenger window and toward the center of the vehicle. Vee cursed and gouged and scratched at his scalp with sharp fingernails.

  She sped, careening away from the beach. He pulled himself into the too-small passenger seat of the racing car. Upside down, he kicked the convertible top, ripping through the cream canvas. He dodged the slicing fingers from the driver’s seat. As he righted himself, he realized the sun was sinking behind the horizon, and they were miles from the beach, on a deserted road.

  A bridge over an ocean inlet loomed ahead. Calder considered the creature bent over the steering wheel, a crazed expression blazing on her face. He closed his eyes, listening to the quick pace of his heartbeat, willing it to slow. He pictured Gaire. I have to save Mike! Gaire!

  With a mighty roar, he made a fist with his left hand and punched her gray face. He reached for the steering wheel with his right. A high-pitched screech filled the darkened car. Sharp teeth scratched his knuckles. Blood smattered on the glass to the left. Calder wrestled against Venora, yanking the wheel to the right.

  The car veered sharply as she struggled, fighting Calder’s strength. The road was empty of oncoming traffic and tires squealed. She crammed her foot down, the engine rpms revved. Calder wrenched the wheel back to avoid the far edge of the bridge. The creature cackled, her smile growing deadly, she grunted and pulled hard the other way. The car careened to the left once more, the edge of the bridge catching the front of the car and launching it into the air and over the barricades.

  Weightlessness lifted them both from their seats. Calder closed his eyes, throwing a prayer to the heavens. He reached for Venora and placed the crook of his arm around the neck of the hissing creature. Grabbing his wrist, he pulled tight.

  The menacing rumble of a promise stirred between the blue tendrils, “If I have to die, I’m taking you with me.” He squeezed tighter, sinking his forearm deep against her neck.

  With a mighty crash, they hit the water. An exploding pain in the middle of his back sent black spots into his view. The sensations disappeared from his toes, and he could not feel the water pouring into the seats. He gritted his teeth, determined to kill before he died. Fuzzy thoughts filled his mind as her body twitched in his arms.

  When she grew still, Calder relaxed his arms, pushing her away. He strained toward the shrinking air bubble, but his legs didn’t respond. For Gaire, for Mike, for his parents, the satisfaction warmed him. The moon shimmered in the water, the beams bending through the tear in the canvas. The moon is lovely tonight. A wish chased the muddle through his mind. Gaire.

  Cold, black waters swallowed him.

  Under the Sea

  Prologue:

  Eleven years earlier

  Traveling through the San Francisco storm drains, a blue shell tumbled. Spots and stripes turned end-over-end in the rush of pulsing water. The current pushed the trinket nearer and nearer the sea. A gush lodged the shell at the edge of a holding tank.

  A passing sea gull noticed the oddity and dove. A quirk of its head, a flash of wings, and it scooped up the shell to fly away toward the ocean. Crunching the shell twice in its beak, it squawked in disgust, dropping the inedible morsel to the earth below.

  The bauble fell to the sand. The sunlight sparkled in the water on its surface, glittering across the spots. A splash sounded, another splash, and soft, furtive footsteps scurried closer.

  There was no one on the beach to see the blue glow surrounding the teenager. At first glance, she emerged from the water naked, but at second glance the orb surrounding her faded to reveal a teal cotton shirt hanging over board shorts, a pouch tied around her waist. Two thin legs glinted in blues and greens, scalloped half-circle shapes smaller on h
er feet, larger toward her waist. Then these markings disappeared into the smoothness of a normal fifteen-year-old.

  Feminine fingers reached around the blue object, pulling it close. She cradled the shell, bringing it near her mouth. Her lips formed breathy words as a light glimmered to life. A bright blue orb flickered and grew around her.

  Wind rushed inland from the sea and swirled about her. Her raven hair fell over her face and then lifted away. When she opened her hands, the light siphoned the gust inward toward the shell. She placed a kiss on the cobalt surface, her thoughts on the red-haired young man she’d been seeing in her dreams. A golden mark, in the shape of two lips, glowed when she pulled away. A shuddering sigh held her breathy words, “The Fates fashioned you mine.”

  The still-swirling wind lifted the small cloud from her palms and upward, carrying it away from the lone figure on the beach. She lifted a joyful face, watching her promise soar. Whirling in the gusts, the words flew over the mansions on the beach, dropping lower as each puff dissipated.

  Knowing the kiss would color his dreams, the young woman smiled. She tucked the shell into a knit seaweed pocket at her waist. “I cannot wait to meet you, Calder Brumen.” Footfalls away, and in another flash of blue magic, two legs fused to one fin, and the slender figure was gone.

  Present Day

  The sharp-faced older woman slammed her hand down on the ornate mother of pearl inlaid desk. “No. I will not have our customs ignored.”

  Long white hair reached her waist, swaying with the force of the movement. Her hand – trimmed in long fingernails painted in ever-changing, swirling sea colors – fanned across the desk. Her torso was translucent, changing to whitish blue scales from her waist down, covering her two legs.

  Gaire stood alone facing the desk, her dark hair also long, straightened from the sea water, but beginning to curl as it dried in the air beneath the city dome. Her bright red lips pressed together, her own skin a pale honey shade with blue-green stretching down her legs. I visit the sun too often to ever receive the honor of the Aged White. I’ll never be a queen. She ducked her head in acquiescence, bending her knees. “Yes, Mother Mistress,” she demurred.

  Regret and compassion flashed across the drawn face of the Mother Mistress. “I know your love is growing. Calder will soon be here, but you must have patience.” She took Gaire’s downturned face in her hand and tilted her chin up. Her fingernails grazed the jaw bone, and Gaire flinched, expecting pain, but found none.

  Mother Mistress leaned down, very close, each exhale feathering across Gaire’s face. “Do not visit the Land Lost again, child. Do not learn their magic. They will only bring you to ruin. You are safest here.” Studying Gaire’s face a few seconds more, she added, “You may go.”

  Gaire struggled to keep her mind empty until she exited the throne room. Once away, her thoughts began tumbling through her mind.

  Mother Mistress cannot stop me. If he needs me, I will go. Venora will not win him. Once everyone’s in bed, I’ll sneak to the Looking Well. It’s time I check on him. Her steps quickened, her slender fingers creeping upward to fondle a blue shell hanging between her breasts.

  A shiver crawled down her spine. What will she do when she finds out I can use the Looking Well?

  Crossing beneath the large open-air dome, Gaire felt eyes upon her back. It won’t be long. I don’t know how much longer I can keep it a secret. She ducked into a cross street as soon as she was able. Far above her, from a window in the castle tower, the white-haired woman watched her cross the reef walkways in their under-water kingdom.

  Chapter 1

  Present Day

  I will be punished. Her thoughts jumped from disobeying Mother Mistress to finding Calder. I don’t care. Calder is mine, and I will take him back to Cathair Uisce.

  Just off the coast of San Francisco, Gaire searched the Strait, ducking out of habit, but far beneath black-bottomed Police boats and the rudders of volunteer boats, hiding and searching in the shadows. A brief glimpse of red caught her eye, glimmering in the wink of dull surface daylight.

  What will she do when she finds out? She’ll wonder how I knew, how I used the Looking Well. Dread filled her. Premonitions, magic, I’m learning how to do so much. I don’t want her place.

  She struggled to pull Calder’s limp body upward from the wrecked convertible and the Pacific silt settled over it. Gaire caressed Calder’s cheek, and then stared toward the open ocean.

  His glassy eyes stared past her, and while she knew the outcome, the death in his face came perilously close to bringing her heartbeat to a standstill. She caressed his cheeks with both hands.

  Tears filled her eyes, and then thinned and quickly washed away in the ocean current. She murmured his name, pressing her lips to his. She tarried, her arms wrapped tightly around his broad chest, lips against his slightly opened mouth.

  When she withdrew, he blinked twice and then his lids slid closed. His chest rose and fell. Two black-topped, white-bellied dolphins appeared by Gaire’s side. She made eye contact, nodding in response to low squeaks. The two came alongside her, and she again wrapped one arm tightly around the unconscious Calder, grasping the dorsal fin on the larger of the two dolphins.

  In a flourish of underwater mud stirred by their movements, the three pushed against the inland flow and darted away in a swirl of bubbles, taking Calder with them.

  * * *

  Gaire stared through the break in the feathery, underwater foliage. The current stirred the colorful plumage surrounding the public seating area fashioned from the older coral. Her ears pricked with each passerby through the garden, expecting, but dreading, the summoning.

  She turned away as shuffling noises sounded behind her. An elderly woman waved blue tipped, tattooed fingers over the community of invertebrates, transforming their homes. She purred and clucked as the tiny polyps reshaped. It was Madam Gardner, and she stopped only when the calcium carbonate was formed into a low bench with a tall, ornate back that reached through the ether toward the light.

  Only the best gardeners were allowed to work this near the home of the Mother Mistress, and only they were able to create structures to benefit both the coral and Cathair Uisce. Calculating all these facts, Gaire curtsied. “Good afternoon, Madam Gardener.”

  The woman turned. Her legs were scaled in warm grays and mossy greens. Her age showed only in her silver hair as her skin boasted the perpetual smoothness bestowed on mermaids. A length of silken brocade was wrapped around her body. The silk looked hand painted with orange-legged egrets stepping between lotus flowers. “Why, good afternoon, fishling. It’s a fine morning to be out.”

  Gaire nodded, preoccupied. The gardener seated herself on the new bench. She patted the seat beside her.

  Gaire shook her head, her ebony hair falling forward over her shoulder. “I am waiting for a summons. The Queen will wish to speak to me when she hears what I have done.”

  “Right you are. Come sit with your summoner.”

  Gaire hid her shock, only slightly stumbling at the revelation, quickly covering the distance to the bench. She sat with more force than she’d meant. “I had no idea, Madam.”

  “Why would you? I’m only here as I was in court with Mother Mistress when she was told of your rather…” A small smile belied the serious tone of voice. “…Unorthodox morning escapades. I offered to fetch you. I’ve seen you often enough in my gardens. I imagined you would be here.”

  Gaire felt a tremble tingle up her spine. She clasped her hands to halt their shaking. “Was she angry?”

  The elder laughed. “Possibly.” She placed her age-lightened hands over Gaire’s youthful, darker ones and offered an encouraging squeeze before she turned her hands over. Blue ink covered the palms. Depicted in the sun’s open middle, a handsome merman stood in the heart of her palm. The sunrays wrapped her hands and fingers.

  “I remember what it is to be young. Rules have their place, but sometimes they’re worth breaking. I would have broken them all for him.�
� She gave another squeeze, winked, and then stood. “I would have used every skill, every magic I possessed if he had needed saving.”

  “Mother Mistress knows?”

  Without answering, the hand-painted silk dissolved in a cloud of gray transforming to the dressings of the court. The insignia of her station was emblazoned across the bodice of her doublet. Finding a formal tone, she said, “Gaire, daughter of Maridian, daughter of the Warm Waters, you have been summoned by the Queen Mother Mistress.”

  * * *

  Gaire placed her hand on the ornate red doors before entering the Chamber. Her stomach churned and trepidation danced at the back of her throat. She closed her eyes, hoping her insides would settle. When she leaned, the door gave way. Gaire strolled into the room for the second time inside what felt like a very short turn, feigning a nonchalance that she did not feel.

  Mother Mistress sat behind a large desk, wearing a newer version of the formal dress, and holding a page crinkled with years. Milky hair was piled atop the crown of her head. Two ringlets hugged her neck, softening the harsh pull of the up-do. Beneath her arms, the dark wood grain boasted a high shine. Gaire considered the value of the desk. Under the surface, mer were taught that wood grains were scarce and valuable.

  But after collecting from shipwrecks for hundreds of years, maybe it’s not so rare anymore. Maybe things are changing.

  Mother Mistress looked up from the document, seeming startled, but she offered only one word, “Gaire.” Her pearl eyes were edged in iron. She waved to the plush seat opposite the desk. Gaire did not argue, but obediently took the offered chair.

  Mother Mistress released the paper, letting it settle on the desk. She leaned into the high backed chair. The gothic spires reminded Gaire of the crowns mermaid queens had worn long ago.

 

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