Salt & Venom (Blood, Bloom, & Water Book 2)

by Amy McNulty

  Coach’s lips hit that whistle again. Yeah, I wasn’t feeling this team. Relaxation? My heart hadn’t beaten this hard since I’d seen that vintage reject’s vampire fangs about to sink into the tender vittles of my neck.

  Ignoring whatever the coach was saying, I watched as Laguna, Cascade, and the other girls made their laps back and forth—Laguna and Cascade of course looking not at all out of breath. The other half of the pool lanes were taken up by guys on the team—girls and guys practiced together, even if their swim meets were divided along an arbitrary binary, apparently.

  Bay and Llyr were in the water now, but Calder was in line with some of the other guys near the diving board. His goggles were fixed pointedly my way.

  Forget the toe tingles. My entire legs slammed together as if pulled by a magnet, something stretching and popping down below, which I only belatedly realized were the seams at the bottom of my borrowed suit.

  Oh, rats.

  The water was glowing around me, just slightly—probably only noticeably if you were looking for it, what with the lights on the floor of the pool glimmering through the water, too.

  Dry. Deserts. Briskets? What else am I supposed to think of?

  My tail twitched below me, causing the icy cold to shoot up through my hand again.

  The coach blew on her whistle. “Sheppard? What are you doing?”

  Cascade crossed over a few lanes, nearly bumping into this other girl’s path, and was at my side in a flash. She grabbed hold of my arm. “Mrs. Wright, Ivy has a cramp.” Her eyes narrowed at me.

  Right. I started grunting in pain, though I found even my arm muscles lightened now that I had the tail, like that soothing sense of relaxation everyone kept promising was waiting for me in the water was finally seeping into my bones.

  Laguna popped up from beneath the water at my other side and the coach blew her whistle again. “Don’t cross lanes when laps are in progress!” Her face scrunched up and then loosened as she visibly exhaled a breath. “Get the newbie out of there,” she said, then turned her back on us to watch some of the other girls moving.

  With a splash, Calder dove into the deep end of the water, then started making his way toward me like a shark underwater, across lanes of boys doing laps.

  The coach whistled again as he popped up beside me. She shouted something about crossing lanes again, but he took my face in both of his hands, putting his forehead to mine.

  Without meaning to, I asked through the mind read what to do to get my tail to go away right now—I couldn’t exactly heave myself up the side of the pool and dry off—and that mermaid link between us showed me the answer.

  Focus. Dry. Legs.

  Perhaps Calder was getting something from me at the same time, some image of my own feelings—about the tail, about the war, about everything going on. But I remembered to focus, to think about being dry, and eventually, with a tingle that permeated every scale, I felt my legs returning, even in the water, my toes stretching as they kicked back and forth.

  The bottom of my suit was loose and ripped and I felt my face flush.

  Laguna darted out of the water, heading back to the edge with a towel as Calder and Cascade swam on either side of me to meet her.

  Thanks to their nimble maneuverings, I got up the ladder just as Laguna swooped in with the towel and Cascade wrapped it around my bottom half, tucking it in and tugging to keep it tightly in place.

  My skin dripped as I stared back down at the pool to find most of the team had stopped swimming and were staring at me unabashedly.

  Coach blew her whistle again. “We’re not done with drills!”

  As if a spell had spread across the room, everyone began to move again.

  “Sheppard, take five,” snapped the coach. “The rest of you, back in.”

  “Thanks, but I’m out,” I said loudly and sternly enough that I hoped would encourage no arguments. The coach had the gall to actually look relieved.

  “Ivy,” said Calder quietly.

  I shook my head. “Why torture yourself like this? With training and drills and meets?” My voice was a harsh whisper. “When you can swim—truly swim, as free as can be—almost any time at home?”

  Calder chewed his lip. “Swim team is a tradition in our… family…” He looked to Laguna and Cascade, almost as if for confirmation. Cascade adjusted her swimsuit while Laguna tapped a finger to her lips.

  “You know what?” said Calder, his voice rising. “She’s got a point. Let’s all quit.”

  “Excuse me?” said the coach. But Bay and Llyr didn’t need to be told twice, their dripping selves padding over to join us by the towels.

  Not a one of them actually grabbed any as we all headed to the locker rooms, the coach threatening the group with extra laps and being benched all the way.

  Chapter Thirteen

  In the sideview mirror, I could make out Cascade’s car as she and the other merfolk high schoolers followed Calder and me in his pickup truck to my dad’s house.

  “I don’t see why we have to do this,” said Calder.

  “I’m not avoiding my dad entirely for however long this war takes,” I said flippantly. “Nor am I moving into the merfolk fortress. Especially if we don’t have a plan.”

  “Ivy, the vampires want you dead.”

  “I don’t believe that,” I said, though something roiled in the pit of my stomach. “At least… Ember doesn’t want that. And the vampires’ hands are tied, even if they do. Ember has to be the one to deal a blow against me if they want to win.”

  Calder let out a breath that would have ruffled his damp hair if it had been long enough.

  “Hey,” I pointed out, reaching for his hand on the steering wheel. “We’re going as a group. We’ll be fine.”

  Calder pulled his hand away before I could grab it and I felt my chest go cold. He tried to cover the motion by running the shaky appendage over his scalp, and it was only then that I realized he might have been afraid of me prying to find out his subconscious thoughts.

  That hadn’t been my intention, though. I sighed.

  Dad’s place was coming into view.

  “It’s not like your fortress is even that far away,” I grumbled as he pulled up to the curb. I gripped the door handle. “You won’t have far to run if you bolt at the first sign of trouble like you always do.”

  Calder started to say something, but I shut the door before he could finish. Planting my feet in the grass on the other side of the sidewalk, I stared up at the large, light-colored house. It had hardly been “home” more than a few weeks, but still, I shrunk back from the powerful wave of melancholy that hit me looking up at it. Slinking my shoulders forward, I made my way to the front porch, almost digging for a key in my pocket that I knew was likely in the tote bag I’d come to get.

  The soft movement of feet through the grass behind me made me check over my shoulder, but it was just my new friends, Calder lingering behind the four others, his hands tucked in his pockets. He was almost slinking back there.

  A fluttering smile appeared on my face as I took in the jackets the guys and Laguna were wearing—letterman, and Cascade likely owned one too. “I guess Central might make you turn those back in now.” I cleared my throat. “I’m sorry I convinced you all to quit the team.”

  Laguna bent slightly to examine a giant moth resting between the prickly leaves of one of Noelle’s bushes. Cascade bit her lip, but Llyr let out a hearty laugh as he slid his arm around a sullen Bay. “You were right to,” the redhead said. “Swim team is a horror show anyway. At least compared to the freedom we’re usually allowed.”

  “Queen Nerida isn’t going to be happy,” said Bay quietly.

  “My mother doesn’t get to dictate our lives entirely,” said Calder, slipping around Laguna to take the step up to the porch and stand beside me. “And we have more important things to worry about right now.” He coughed, cupping a hand over his lips. “Ivy wants her life back and we owe it to her… to get this all over with.”

/>   I didn’t fail to miss the look that Cascade, Bay, and Llyr all passed between them at that, though Laguna was too focused on lightly petting the moth’s wings to bother.

  “Anyway,” said Cascade, her voice perking up and her words pouring out, “we can’t stand here like idiots all day, can we? Why don’t we knock and let the bloodsucker champion know now’s not the time to mess with our Ivy?” She draped an arm around my shoulder, practically dragging me down, and used her free hand to knock, followed by a quick double-press of the doorbell.

  Laughing nervously, I tried to straighten myself so she didn’t drag me down to the ground.

  Pounding footfalls echoed behind the door before it pulled open. “Ivy!” Autumn bounced on her heel as she unlatched the outer front door.

  “Hey, peanut,” I said, disentangling myself from Cascade’s grip to pat the back of my sister’s head as she tackled me with the fervor of a professional wrestler. “Oof,” I said exaggeratedly as she took me in her arms.

  Autumn pulled away, the curl of her lips replaced by the narrowing of her brow. “Who are all these people?”

  I guided her inside and nodded to the people behind me. “My new friends from Central.”

  “You were here for the boring Homecoming pictures,” said Autumn, pointing to Calder. “You were spying on everyone.”

  True. He’d been lingering nearby, looking forlorn. I didn’t realize Autumn had seen him.

  “Why did you change schools anyway?” Autumn asked, her little button nose upturned. “And Dad said you’re only going to be living with Mom awhile, and when I tried to ask him why, he got all… weird… and confused and then Noelle was like, ‘Stop questioning your father, young lady,’ and she got confused and Ember was like, ‘It’s better this way,’ and I got confused—”

  “I’m sorry it’s all so confusing,” I said, ruffling her hair. She cringed as she went to work smoothing out her dark brown strands. “But is anyone else home?”

  “Yeah,” said Autumn, as if that were obvious. “Dad!” She padded her bare feet up the stairway. She stopped at the top and turned around. “He’s still taking a crap. Only if anyone calls his phone and asks for him, I’m not supposed to say ‘taking a crap.’”

  I headed upstairs, slowly, caught at the top behind Autumn, who seemed to have taken it upon herself to act as Dad’s home secretary.

  The flush of the toilet from down the hall in the open master bedroom, followed by the too-brief rinse of hands simultaneously made me gag and feel a sense of relief, recognizing the pattern as Dad’s.

  “Hey, kiddo,” said Dad as he appeared in the master bedroom doorway. “I see you got my message—no mean feat when you make a habit of losing your phone.”

  The fact that I’d also lost my phone in the woods when this had all started was not lost on me. I was going to glue the thing to me from now on.

  “How was your first day at the new school?” he asked, coming out into the hallway to meet me.

  “Fine,” I said quickly. “So do you have my bag?”

  Dad didn’t seem to hear me and simply stared over my head down the stairway at the small group I had gathered there.

  “I see you make friends fast.” He brushed past me and held out his hand—merely rinsed, ew—to Calder. “Easton Sheppard, Ivy’s dad,” he said.

  Calder hesitated a second but removed his hand from his pocket and shook Dad’s. “Calder Poole.” I noticed he didn’t mention anything about being my boyfriend, but fine, I wasn’t sure that was what was important just now anyway. “And these are my kin, Laguna and Llyr Irving and Cascade and Bay Asturias.”

  “Kin, eh?” Dad said, taking each of their hands in turn. He squinted. “I think I can see it.”

  Ugh. “Hey, Autumn, do you know where my phone and tote bag are?” I asked her quietly. If Dad had no interest in seeing me quickly on my way, I’d at least make sure I had them in my hands before the merfolks’ favorite strategy of heading for the hills inevitably came into play.

  “I think so,” said Autumn. “She put it in her room.” She walked over toward Ember’s closed bedroom door and my heartrate went sky-high as I ran a nervous left hand over my right, bringing discomfort to the hand by squeezing it, trying to focus on keeping the ice nearby and at the ready—but not strong enough to glow bright blue and draw Autumn’s attention just yet.

  “Hey, is Ember home?” I asked, but Autumn was already at the door, knocking at it.

  “Ivy’s here,” she said in a singsong tune. “She wants her stuff back.”

  She was home.

  A crash from downstairs made me jump as Ember’s door swung open, and Arty the white-and-black cat bolted up the stairs, headed straight for Autumn’s own open doorway and under her bed.

  The three of us stared, watching that lightning-fast cat go.

  “Sorry about that!” shouted Dad from down below. “I wanted to show these guys your baby pictures and I didn’t realize the cat was atop the curio cabinet. I think I scared him when I slammed the swinging door open.”

  My temples throbbed under my hands as I massaged them. Dad, can you stop?

  Autumn chased after the cat, leaving me standing virtually alone in the hallway with Ember, my friends apparently distracted by photos of me in diapers.

  She shook her head, brushing a tendril of blonde hair over her shoulder before crossing her arms in front of her. She had tight Capri pants on and a vintage-style pale pink blouse. All she was missing was the handkerchief bandana and she might have looked at home alongside Rosie the Riveter. “You came.” With the way she was standing there, I expected her to sound snootier, but there was a sullen echo to her tone.

  Autumn’s gentle cooing drew my attention, and I clenched my fist at my side as I looked from Ember to Autumn and back. Wildly, my eyes darted around to see if Ember had company in her room.

  “I’m alone,” she said. “I hoped to speak with you. Alone.”

  Someone thundered up the stairs—Calder, Bay at his heels. I held my left hand out to the side of me, instructing them to hang back.

  “Ow! Bad kitty.” Autumn shook her hand in the air as a fluff of white vanished beneath her bed.

  “You have to give him some space when he’s upset,” said Ember, leaving her doorway to head to Autumn’s room. She didn’t sound angry, but even so, I found my fingers flexing, curling and uncurling, and I darted down the hall after her.

  “Are you okay?” asked Ember, ignoring me and taking Autumn’s hand in hers.

  A thin scratch line spread down the back of her hand, oozing the smallest droplets of blood.

  Beads of sweat were forming on my forehead. If she touched Autumn’s blood, then—

  “Let’s get it washed,” said Ember, tugging gently on Autumn’s arm and bringing her to standing. Ember glared at me as they passed, not letting go of my sister’s hand as they headed to the bathroom. “Cat scratches can have a lot of germs.” Ember flicked the faucet on. “You need to get a lather going really well.”

  Realizing my feet had frozen me in Autumn’s doorway, I scrambled toward the bathroom now, barely registering as Calder popped out of Ember’s bedroom, my tote in one hand and my phone in the other. I nodded but ignored his thumb indicating we should head toward the stairway.

  Dad’s hearty laughter echoed from downstairs and I realized with a sinking feeling that despite all my denials of the fact, I really was leaving my dad and sister to be used as pawns in a game they had no idea they were playing. More than anything, I wanted this all to be over—needed this all to be over.

  The faucet shut off and Autumn shook off her hands just as I stepped in between her and Ember, yanking the hand towel off its rack and drying Autumn’s hands for her.

  “Stop,” said Autumn. “I’m not five.” Like eight was so much older. I let her take the towel from me as I opened the medicine chest and rummaged around for bandages and ointment.

  “Here,” said Ember, ducking between my sister and me to open the cupboard beneath th
e sink. She handed Autumn a bandage that claimed to have ointment already in the pad. “And be careful around that little panther, okay?”

  “I thought he liked me,” Autumn muttered as she tossed the towel on the sink and opened the bandage package.

  “He does.” Ember patted her on the head and Autumn squinted her eyes as she flattened the bandage diagonally over her scratch. “He’s just overwhelmed with so many people around. He takes a while to get used to new faces.”

  “He liked my friend right away,” muttered Autumn. “Curled right up in his lap.”

  “What friend—?” I started to ask, the use of his—a rarity among my little sister’s friends—not lost on me, but Dad interrupted.

  “Sport! Come down here and help Noelle with the groceries,” shouted Dad up the stairs. “She just pulled in.”

  Autumn said something about donuts and then bolted out the door, brushing past Bay and Calder on the landing without a word.

  It was only half a second later that my eyes flicked to Ember and I saw she had the dirty hand towel in her grip, the slightest few dots of red hard to miss among the white of the towel fibers.

  “Wait,” snapped Ember when I realized my fist was up at the ready, the ice chilling my fingers already.

  She held her right hand out cautiously to me, her fingertips glowing with the faintest shade of red, then stuck out her left hand, still clutching the towel, toward the guys just as Cascade and Laguna ascended the stairs behind them.

  “Calder, you said you didn’t want to hurt me,” she said, her round, brown eyes wide.

  “I don’t,” replied Calder. He had my tote up around his arm as he stood at the ready for a fight, his muscles tense. “If you just surrender, this will all be over.”

  Ember turned to me. “I can’t do that.” Her voice was quiet. “But I hope you’ll believe me that this house is a neutral zone, okay? You don’t have to worry about your dad or Autumn…”

  “How benevolent of you.” A sour taste permeated my mouth.