by Gaja J. Kos
I swore viciously, calling for my power again, and quickly cushioned his fall with a gentle wave that eased him into the once more full lake. I waited for a second, two, then splashed him right over the head with the magic-touched current.
With a growl, Santino shook his silver curls, sending droplets to cool my heated face. I closed my eyes out of reflex. When I blinked again, Santino jumped, all but dunking me under the water as he drew me into a crushing embrace.
A deep, rumbling laughter joined mine as our gazes locked. Santino captured my lips, his hand already playing with the sensitive scales running down from the small of my back.
One last moment. One last moment stolen from the reality we hoped to tear down.
And replace it with something new.
22
For all the bravado I had shown Santino back at the cabin, I was terrified.
I swam downstream, feeding my magic into the water to cloak my presence—and took solace in knowing that I had at least been right in this. It felt almost as if I were ensconced in a bubble, a solid layer of power that, despite its potency, couldn’t be sensed from the outside. Even if the Rusalkas were listening to the currents, they would feel nothing amiss.
What worried me, however, was what would happen once merely concealing myself would no longer be enough.
As we agreed, Santino was waiting on dry land at safe distance. I was well aware that in dragon form it would only take him a few seconds to reach the morass in case things went wrong, but the thought failed to reassure me. Even such a small time window was enough for the Rusalkas to cause some serious damage if they all came at me at once. After all, the bloodshed during the change hadn’t lasted long.
But even more than I was afraid of the fragile state of my fate, I was terrified of failing.
Terrified of dragging Santino down the rabbit hole of murder and mass slaughter he had worked so hard to escape.
I exhaled. No, I needed to do this right. And panic wouldn’t help me achieve that. So I brought up the image of Santino in my mind, remembered the phantom brush of his lips, the way his hands caressed my back, and used it all as a tether.
This was what I was fighting for. Not merely my life, but ours.
Gradually, the water around me darkened, shifting from its crystal blue innocence to the deep green that matched the canopy of trees looming above. The riverbed became shadowed, too, exchanging the slickness of stone for the dense, inky texture of mud, and all too soon I found myself nearing the familiar bend that would open up into the morass I had once called home.
I slowed, making sure the bubble of power remained undisturbed, then willed a single current of water to slip inside—the current I had commanded to flow against its nature, feeding me the information I sought.
As I had expected, two Rusalkas stood sentry at the mouth of the morass, and a part of me relaxed as I realized that neither of them were among those I wished to save. I needed an audience to convince my former sisters that I meant them no harm—not all of them, at least—and I would have hated to forfeit the guards’ lives simply because they found themselves at the wrong place at the wrong time. Even if it hadn’t been for Santino’s steel-hard insistence, this was one part of the plan I knew I had to fulfill whether I liked it or not.
Briefly, I closed my eyes and sucked in a long, shuddering breath. One last chance to turn around.
I didn’t take it.
I swam forward with all the speed I could muster, and at the same time released the part of my magic I had kept boiling under the surface of my skin. Instantly, the currents wrapped around the two Rusalkas who came into view around the bend, pressing them against the riverbed and rendering them immobile. Their eyes widened for a split second before pure, burning hatred filled their gazes, matching the twin sneers tugging on their mouths.
The sight cast me back to that wretched day, phantom echoes of the snarls and battle cries that had filled the morass exploding in my mind, and yet… There was nothing but silence surrounding me now.
And so it would remain.
The sentries couldn’t cry out in outrage, couldn’t raise the alarm that would bring the rest of them crashing my way. The river was placing pressure on their lips, and until I said otherwise, these translucent bonds would stay.
Only that wasn’t even the extent of it.
The protection bubble I’d kept around me now encompassed us all, preventing any disturbances from reaching the heart of the morass. I swam towards Ana, the brown-haired female closest to me.
For Iza. For Angela. For us.
I kept repeating those words like a mantra as the Rusalka watched me steadily, eyes brimming with anger and a defiance that would have scared me away if I had still been merely one of their own.
But I wasn’t. Not any longer. The Rusalkas had made sure of that, and no amount of silent threats, of promises of punishment deep below the darkened surface could change my mind.
I reminded myself of all the men I had killed by the lake. And before.
Yet somehow, this felt different. Personal. Intimate, even.
My body rebelled violently at the idea of snapping Ana’s neck, of coating my bare hands with her final, permanent death, but still I closed the distance. With a sharp intake of breath, I steadied myself, but before I took that dreaded leap, a tug at my core cut through the seething mass of discomfort. I hesitated, unable to identify the meaning at first. It didn’t feel like a warning; it felt…
Like an offer.
I stilled as I realized what the water was proposing. What it was setting itself up to be—then accepted its gift. I allowed it to become as much a barrier between me and death as my voice had once been; as the currents had, when the hitmen had swarmed the lake.
Without anger or remorse, perhaps only a slight sense of righteousness, the element morphed into ethereal, yet frighteningly solid hands that snaked around Ana’s head and snapped her neck without a moment of hesitation.
I gasped, staring at the lifeless body, unable to believe the truth lingering so bluntly before my eyes. I had always felt a sentience in the water, but seeing actual proof of it rendered me speechless.
Yes, it had been my will to end the Rusalka’s life that had stirred the currents, but it was their desire to protect me, to cleanse themselves of her threatening presence that had made them so obedient. So lethal.
They had used my magic as an instrument to achieve something they never could have otherwise. The thought astonished as much as it scared me.
Unfortunately, as engulfed in shock and understanding as I was, I failed to notice the disturbance in the water just a second too late.
I spun towards the second Rusalka, my magic leaping from me at once, but the menacing victory in her cold blue gaze told me I would never stop her warning in time. Trepidation ran down my limbs even as the currents snaked around her and wrung her neck, swiftly dissipating her into the underworld.
Yet for all my strength, I could do nothing but watch that faint trickle of blood oozing from her back where she had injured it on a protruding rock. That same current I now held suspended mid flow—but not all of it.
A small fragment had drifted downstream before my magic could snatch it.
I shut my eyes against the dread pooling at the pit of my stomach as I listened to the resonance of anger and action. The Rusalkas knew of my presence; there was no question about it now.
And they were adamant to finish what they had started.
23
For a moment, every muscle in my body tensed, the water stilling in response. Then I was swimming, propelling myself down the ever widening river as fast as I could, aiming for the seething mass of bodies that waited for me beyond. Darkness swirled around me, the morass greeting me with its somber hue and the unmistakable fragrance of death.
My would-be home.
Panic rose in my chest, memories of the decades I had spent here threatening to rise from the pit I’d cast them in. Their phantom talons wrapped around my
heart, and I knew that if I were to let a single one of them sink in, my resolve, my strength—it would all falter.
I held on to that small light inside me, to the silent promise of water that there was more to life than this—that I had survived. And had something to fight for.
The Rusalkas spread out before me, their bodies shifting through the water like blades. But I wasn’t defenseless any longer.
My every thought went into my power, into the awareness of the atoms surrounding me, and I pushed.
There was just one downside. One I had anticipated… But was still daunting to face.
Flowing water was infinitely harder to control than the calm contents of a lake.
I gritted my teeth as I immersed myself in the lively fluid, willing its structure to become denser, to slow the Rusalkas’ advance. I succeeded.
But only just.
With every new ripple that came from the stream behind me, the barrier cracked and loosened. I patched up the damage, again and again, but still my former sisters used the small breaks to spread out. Then close in.
I recognized their movements immediately.
They were the same maneuvers they turned to whenever they fancied playing with their victims for a while before drowning them at last. Only there was one staggering difference my sisters failed to take into account.
Those men were already guided by the talons of death.
I was not.
I swooped down low, wrapping gentle, translucent vines around the Rusalkas I wished to keep out of harm’s way while ramming powerful jets of hardened water right into chests of the others. They staggered and tumbled through the depths, scrambling away only to come back at me again.
But even as relentless as they were, they couldn’t match my need and determination. I flung my magic in every direction as we fought, willing it to seek out that one person I had to find before Santino could descend upon the morass and take the guilty.
Sharp nails raked an inch away from my tail, and I quickly blasted the Rusalka back into the murky embrace, not failing to note the murderous hatred contorting her features before the currents swallowed her whole. It was an expression mirrored on more faces than I could count, and yet, on those eighteen I kept contained, understanding slowly dawned.
My gaze locked with Emira’s, and the Rusalka gave me a barely perceptible nod the three sisters standing in front with their backs turned to her missed. Blowing out a breath, I sent a silent prayer to the gods, then dispelled the bonds.
Crimson tainted the water the instant Emira surged, clawing and tearing at the unsuspecting Rusalkas in front of her. Nausea rolled through me at the sight far too similar to what I’d seen the day the world changed, but I shoved it down. I couldn’t afford to have anything distract me from filtering through the multitude of information the currents kept bringing.
Two more of my former sisters tried—and failed—to attack before I finally sensed her. I looked at Emira who quickly pointed at Yana and Josephina before she threw herself into battle once more. Trusting her judgment, I let the two Rusalkas go, the opulent presence of blood the only indication that I had done the right thing. But even as a brief spell of relief swept through me, I was already cutting across the morass like an arrow, aiming for the darkest alcoves cut into the side of the riverbed. My temples throbbed from the exertion, from trying to control every single atom of the water around me while reading through its vibrations for any new threats at the same time.
But I pushed on nonetheless, not stopping until I reached the shielded, almost pitch-black alcove we’d once named The Dungeon. I used my magic as a battering ram to obliterate any traps the Rusalkas might have set up, and my heart sank as I saw Angela chained to the wall, scars crisscrossing every inch of her shapely body.
“Gods…” I whispered even as jets of water broke through the manacles and I caught Angela in my arms.
The currents murmured angrily all around us, furious that a spell had kept them from reaching her before. Now, I felt them tend to her, caress her with their ethereal fingers until her eyes fluttered open in surprise. A soft cry left my lips.
In that moment, I didn’t care about any differences we might have had in the past. I simply hugged her, both of us now wrapped in the embrace of the currents, and listened to her erratic heartbeat grow strong again.
Only after I knew the water would aid her on its own did I let go and swam back far enough to give her more space.
Angela winced as she stretched out her tail, the brutality of the damage inflicted to her scales now visible down to the last horrifying detail. What should have been a beautiful, shimmering blue surface was marred with angry streaks and cuts, some scabbed, some still bleeding. Fury washed over me at the thought of how much force the Rusalkas had to apply to destroy something as resilient as mermaid scales. My hatred must have shown on my face, because Angela reached out and grabbed my hand.
“Thank you,” she whispered.
Tears prickled at the back of my eyes, but my response never left my lips. A harsh stirring spun me around. Bullets pierced the water in an onslaught of leaden rain, cutting through the darkness and blood. My heart sank.
Kauer’s men were here.
Refusing to let my muscles lock up in fear, I half dragged Angela from the alcove and into the wide waters of the morass. I could barely see past the thick crimson veil, but I drove forward nonetheless, Angela pushing herself forward by my side.
“Emira, Josephina, and Yana are on our side,” I said to her when we’d almost reached the main mass of bodies. I then released the rest of the Rusalkas I was keeping safely at bay. “They’ll know who else to grab. Take them up the river, Angela, and don’t turn back. Go!”
She looked up at me, hesitation lining her wide brown eyes. I cursed softly, then sent a jet of water to propel her away. It wasn’t strong, and with her own powers she could have easily countered it.
But she didn’t.
I watched her tail work past the injuries as she swam to where Yana was locked in combat with a Rusalka so badly beaten up I couldn’t make out her features. But it wasn’t the fight that caught my attention.
It was the female lingering just a short distance beyond.
She shot for the surface even as bullets rained down from above. I followed her up, keeping a shield around me even when the fading light of day fell upon my skin.
Katarina’s eyes shone as she glanced at me, then, with her lips half parted, she trailed her gaze up the bank and towards the massive silver form that landed with enough force to shake the ground, trampling the hitmen as if they were nothing but leaves, scattered across the grass. She smiled, and the blood in my veins froze.
Santino might be immortal, but he wasn’t immune. And the enchanting, melodic voice that spilled from Katarina’s lips not a second later existed for one purpose, and one purpose only.
To kill.
24
My mind refused to accept what it was seeing.
I lingered in the water, surrounded by floating pieces of dismembered bodies, my magic as still as my heart. My lungs lost their need for air, every atom of my being attuned to the horror of Katarina’s spell taking hold of Santino. And when I noted that familiar stiffness that overcame a person as the unbearable need to enter the nearest body of water settled in the very core of who he was, the light nestled deep inside me died.
The silver dragon looked at me for a final time before those onyx eyes lost their sharp focus. They glazed over, the cloudy layer imperceptible to anyone but those belonging to the water. As I did.
As Santino did now.
A scream wrenched itself from my chest, echoed by Katarina as the currents guided by my—and my magic’s—wrath ripped her body apart. But it didn’t matter.
Her passage into the underworld couldn’t undo the spell. Not when it had already entwined with Santino’s essence and took up a short, punishing life of its own.
Bright, lethal talons sank into the soft bed of grass covering t
he bank as the dragon took a step forward. Then another. His massive body moved with grace, only it wasn’t the one I had come to know—and love—as his. No, it was merely the smooth guidance of death, wielding him like a master puppeteer with a chilling play in mind.
A malevolent stirring in the water behind me signaled that not all of my enemies were destroyed, and yet I couldn’t take my eyes off the silver dragon, couldn’t stop counting down the seconds before his talons would reach the edge of the morass and the water would steal him away from me forever.
Pain exploded down the length of my tail, the Rusalka—or were there more of them?—clawing at my scales and fluke. The agony ripped me from my state of utter stillness, my surroundings snapping back into place with such force I involuntarily released my magic, not caring what it did or where it went.
Strangled groans erupted from behind me, some reverberating through the water and some taking to the air until everything went perfectly quiet, save for that dreaded rustle indicating Santino’s approach. It was only then that I realized I had frozen the entire morass. Only then came to note that there was nothing but a thin layer of water still surrounding me, granting me just enough room to shift position, but hardly anything more.
And Santino…
He looked at the ice with bewilderment, his body jerking to an abrupt stop. Yet any relief I might have felt at his reaction extinguished the instant he turned his silver head to the left.
Towards the river.
A sob escaped my lips, tremors running through my flesh until my entire body shivered in a violent spasm. There was nothing I could do to keep the tears from falling as I watched him prowl along the riverbank, the spell set within him working as a compass.
I knew I could freeze the river if I tried, but it would only postpone the inevitable.
Eventually, I would be too late—or he would reach a lake far too large for me to influence. Worse, his path would take him to the ocean, where not even the strength of all the mermaids in existence could make anything more than a pitiful dent against the magnificence of the endless blue.