Water and Blood

by B. Kristin McMichael

  “Well, next time bring him with,” Lydia ordered Sam, tapping her pencil on the pad of paper and smiling as she thought, probably about Leo. At least she was off him for the moment. “So what’ll it be?”

  “Two Much Special for me,” Sam answered, giving Whitney a bit more time to decide, which he was sure she hadn’t done yet. “And a large orange juice.”

  “Of course,” Lydia replied back. “Over easy?”

  “Yes, please.”

  “And you, friend?” Lydia turned to Whitney. The term friend sounded a bit sourer this time as she said it. Even though he had deflected her to thinking about Leo, she wasn’t too happy with Whitney.

  “Cinnamon pancakes and a cup of coffee,” she replied.

  Lydia nodded and walked away, not trying to get her to order more. Sam knew girls as he had several sisters. They were easy to make jealous, and fought often. He turned his complete attention to Whitney. She wasn’t like all the girls he knew.

  “Coffee?” Sam asked. “Really? You like that stuff? Doesn’t it stunt your growth?”

  “I don’t think it hurt me much. Actually, I’m glad I’m not six foot four.” Whitney shrugged as he still looked like he couldn’t believe she liked coffee. “And I was out really late last night. Someone kept me out way past my bedtime to get all my beauty sleep. I’ll need it to stay awake all day, and yes, I like that stuff. You should try it some time. I bet it would help in your lifestyle.”

  Sam grinned. He had said no talking, and with anyone else, they would have never even tried to mention the night before; but not Whitney. Try as he might to get her to do something, she was like a current in the water that was going to do as it pleased, no matter what was passing through. Sam liked that about her.

  “What do you want to know?” Whitney asked, turning back to his original question. That was also new for Sam. Ask any siren to talk about themselves and they could write you a novel, maybe even a five book series, but not with Whitney. She never talked about herself.

  “Anything, really. I know that you came here a year ago and that you had to move. You live with your aunt and cousin, and you work at Bingos. I also know you swim better than most of the people I’ve ever taught to swim, which I like to think is because I’m a great teacher, and now I know that you like to drink coffee.” Sam listed everything, but basically was saying he didn’t know much.

  Whitney shrugged. “That pretty much sums me up.” Infuriatingly cute, she didn’t add more.

  “I highly doubt it.”

  Lydia came back and set their drinks on the table along with a glass of water for each of them. Turning to leave, she knocked into Whitney’s glass, spilling the water across the table and onto Whitney’s lap. Whitney gasped, not at the cold, but because water just got on her. Sam concentrated and kept the water on top of her shorts, not allowing it to seep into them. She was afraid of turning, and he should have been afraid for her, but he could protect her. She was a siren now, and it was a duty he was all too happy to do.

  “Oh, no. I’m sorry about that,” Lydia said as she reached down and patted Whitney’s lap with the extra paper towels in her work skirt. “I’ll go get you more towels.”

  Whitney let out her breath as her legs stayed legs instead of a fin.

  “Why in the world?” she asked as she looked up at Sam, finally noticing the water hadn’t gone through her shorts.

  He nodded and waved his hand a little to make the rest of the water pooling on her shorts and shirt move to the table.

  “You can—”

  Lydia came back and interrupted Whitney. She handed them more paper towels and took the soaked ones away.

  “What did I say about no talking about last night?” Sam replied with a smile.

  He was never going to get her to stop asking questions. The food needed to come quickly as he was sure it was going to take everything to divert her attention to the land world instead of asking questions that could get them both in trouble if the wrong person overheard. She was a challenge, but one he more than ready to accept.

  The meal was finished, and Whitney was glad to be leaving. The food was great for being a little hole-in-the-wall diner, but the service was a bit lacking. From the puppy-dog eyes the waitress was giving him, she was more than a little in love with Sam, even if he didn’t seem to notice. The waitress hadn’t stopped staring the whole time, and it was more than a little nerve-wracking to eat while the girl stared at them. Whitney had a distinct feeling the knocked-over water was on purpose also and that was just dangerous for her new self.

  As they left after paying less than she expected, Sam led them away from the diner, but not toward his car. Whitney would have asked, but with her new siren senses, she knew where the little path would lead. She could already feel the ocean calling.

  “Come here often?” Whitney joked at the pathway.

  He didn’t look over his shoulder to give her a reply.

  The song grew louder as they walked closer. It was like she had radar for the ocean and could estimate that it was only going to take two more minutes to walk there. Whitney paused as they stepped out of the trees and tall grasses onto a sandy beach. One would have never known from the diner that the beach and ocean were behind there, unless you were Sam, of course.

  “This is where we go to get privacy?” Whitney looked down the beach. It actually connected up with a longer beach that went around a bend, but no one was around. It was perfectly empty and very perfect in her eyes.

  “Nope. I got a better plan for that.”

  Sam pulled off his shirt and stepped into the water. Whitney could feel the call of the ocean, but she still had enough sense to stay out of the water if she didn’t want to instantly turn into a half-fish. Previously being a night human might have helped with her sense of control.

  “Talking in the water sounds great except for one problem,” Whitney said as she watched Sam wade knee deep in the water. “Can we talk underwater?”

  Whitney really had no clue, but seeing that she didn’t know if anyone else was near the beach or just around the bend, she figured it was a good idea to stay out of the water.

  “Leave your stuff here with my stuff,” Sam directed her.

  Whitney raised an eyebrow. She was getting the common theme. Sam liked to be in charge. A please would have been nice, but then again, she wasn’t sure she ever heard him say that.

  “No one comes this far down the beach. It’s safe to leave everything, probably safe to talk, but I like to be extra sure,” he explained. Still not a please, but it would do. She liked explanations as much as courtesy.

  Whitney slipped off her shirt and shorts, but still didn’t go into the water. Standing on the edge, she watched the waves lap the shore near her toes. It was tempting to just stick a toe in, but she had more control than that.

  Sam jogged out of the water and scooped her into his dry arms all in one motion before she could complain.

  “I forget how new this is to you. Sorry about that,” Sam apologized while basically explaining nothing. “I’ve been this way my whole life and don’t remember what it’s like to begin with.”

  Whitney normally would have had a witty comeback or some snarky comment to go with his admission, but she was pressed close against him, so she was a little distracted. It had felt so different when Sam had touched her fin the day before. Now she realized it wasn’t just his touch on her fin, but his touch in general. Her heart picked up its beating, and she tried not to look him in the eyes, which would place her lips just inches from him. No way was she supposed to fall for the guy that turned her into a mermaid. No way.

  Sam carried Whitney over to the large stones sticking out of the water—they reached for at least ten or fifteen feet into the air and stretched farther into the ocean—and set her on a ledge that kept her out of the water.

  “At low tide, people like to come down to these rocks and walk around them, but at high tide, everyone stays away,” Sam explained. “There are pockets between the
rocks that people can get trapped in, so it isn’t safe.”

  The rock formations were beautiful and perfect to stand on. There was a ledge that was more than eight inches wide, wide enough not just for Whitney but also Sam’s feet to stand. Whitney stared at the porous gray stone that shot up into the sky. There were even ledges that allowed her to hold on to it. She turned to Sam in the water, and his hand was still on her back, steadying her. He was waiting for her to say she was fine before he let go. Bossy but a gentleman.

  Whitney nodded, hanging on to the stone as Sam jumped up beside her. He walked his way down the ledge, going more than thirty feet into the ocean. Blue-green water sloshed below her, and it was exhilarating. Old new-to-swimming Whitney would have been terrified, but now, the water didn’t scare her at all. It was actually very inviting. Sam led the way to the tip of the rocks and around a corner, keeping them from the view of anyone who might possibly see them from the beach.

  Sitting down carefully on the ledge, Sam let his feet dip into the water. He kicked it a little with his toes and not a fin.

  “How do you do that?” Whitney finally asked, hoping he would answer instead of evade her questions as he had all morning.

  “Not too hard, really.” He held his hands up in defense. “We learn when we’re younger. Takes maybe a week or two to perfect. Don’t worry. You don’t have to be afraid of water all the time when you’re around people. You’ll learn quickly; I don’t doubt. You have a knack for learning things quicker than a normal person.”

  With her cheeks turning red a bit at his compliment, Whitney nodded but didn’t sit beside him. Sam grinned up at her and slid forward, plopping into the ocean feet first. From her vantage point, Whitney watched him bob down and come back up to break the surface.

  “Are you coming?” he asked, grinning at her.

  Second thoughts began to drift into her mind. Yes, she could swim, and with Sam around she was safe. She never felt otherwise with him. He had saved her from drowning half a dozen times, but still she hesitated. It was the ocean, and the water was deep enough she couldn’t see the bottom. And there was the one detail of swimming with her legs was one thing, but she’d have to swim with a fin now. She had a very good feeling it would be different.

  “What about someone seeing us from out there?” Whitney made up a lame excuse, and she knew from Sam’s face he didn’t buy it.

  “No one is around for miles. I’d know if they were. Heck, once you get in the water, you’d be able to tell, too. It’s like built-in sonar or something. Now quit stalling, scaredy-cat, before I climb back up and push you in.”

  A pout formed on her lips as she glared at him. She hated that he thought she was scared. She wasn’t. It was more the technicalities she was thinking about. Placing one hand on her hip while still holding on to the wall, she planned to give him a piece of her mind before jumping in. That thought was lost when something crawled over her hand. She let go of the rock, dropping right into the ocean, mouth open and all.

  Whitney moved to bob back up to the surface and yell at Sam more, but she couldn’t find it in her to do so. From above, the ocean looked like a vast scary place, but below the water, it was warm and inviting. Plants grew around her, and fish swam between them in her aqua blue paradise. Whitney didn’t think about how to swim with a fin. It just moved like she wanted while she made a circle around toward the large, now dark-brown-looking rocks that shot straight out of the ocean floor. When she made it almost all the way around, she found Sam underwater with her as she eagerly took in the world around her. He moved closer, his blue tail flicking to keep him right next to her.

  Opening her mouth to ask what was next, she realized she couldn’t talk underwater. Sam grinned more and seemed to give off the sensation of laughing. He reached forward and took her hand, tugging her closer to him and pulling her off her balance. It felt like she had tripped and ended up in his arms on land, but much slower and softer in the buoyant water.

  ‘No talking,’ Sam mouthed to her.

  Yep, she got that memo already.

  Whitney looked closer at him in the water. His sun-kissed, tanned chest now had more lines around him, making what she always thought was four tattoos on his upper arm really more pronounced. They almost seemed to shimmer like the various lines that ran up his chest also. She stopped checking him out when she got to his neck. Slits were lined up vertically above his collar bone.

  ‘What are those?’ Whitney mouthed and pointed to them.

  Sam didn’t answer, but instead backed up a little, allowing her to regain her balance. Then he tugged on her hand to move forward. It felt strange to swim without kicking, but at least her fin knew what it was doing. Sam pulled her down deeper into the water toward the bottom of the stone structures. As they descended into the darker water, she expected to see less, but instead, she actually saw clearer. Sam was aiming for a hole in the rocks ahead.

  Whitney held on as he led them into the stone structure and around a pathway he was obviously familiar with. She looked around in awe as the stone was much more than just a dirty brown blob. She could make out plants that lived on it. Down below where she saw sand, she could make out creatures walking around. She was going to have to get back home and look it all up. Seeing this new world, she wanted to know about everything she saw. Before she got the chance to see much more, Sam was pulling her up through an opening that led to the surface, as it was much brighter that direction.

  They got to the surface, and Whitney automatically gasped for air even though she didn’t need it. She should have needed it. They had been under at least five minutes straight, or even longer.

  The filtered light came down to leave shadows all over the rock walls surrounding them. There was a small hole at least twenty feet above them in the rocks, and a shoreline not even ten feet away now. Around them, they were completely surrounded by the stone she had been climbing on. There were very few plants and just as few animals in the little cove they had come to. It was more than quiet, almost silent. Only the lapping of the water on the shore and them breaking the surface of the water made any noise at all. It was completely serene and peaceful in Sam’s little hiding spot.

  “Gills,” Sam said as he pulled her toward the shore. She didn’t think they had swam all the way back to the edge of the ocean, but they must have been going that direction the whole time they twisted and turned through the underwater tunnels.

  “Gills?”

  “Those lines on my neck and yours, too, once you go underwater.”

  Whitney immediately felt for her neck to see if she had the same flaps of skin. It tickled to touch them, and she almost laughed. She had gills. Now that wasn’t something that happened every day.

  “Gills?” she repeated. That explained why she didn’t need to catch her breath on their underwater adventure.

  “Yes. Now I don’t have to worry about you drowning in swimming lessons. You can go back and forth as much as you want while doing laps and never have to surface.” Sam grinned at her, and she playfully punched him in the arm for teasing her.

  Sam pulled Whitney forward enough so they could sit on the sandy bottom of the hidden cove they were in now, but still have their lower halves, including their fins, covered.

  “We have at least one hour before we have to make it back,” Sam told her. “The water is on its way out, and people can actually see in here after that. They wouldn’t be able to get to us, but part of being a siren is keeping everything about us a secret.”

  One hour wasn’t nearly enough time to talk.

  “And I need half of that to explain more of the mer world to you,” Sam added.

  Whitney’s face soured. It was going to take forever to learn anything at this rate.

  “And just so that you don’t waste any of your time asking questions about stuff I planned to tell you, I’ll go first,” he explained while nodding. Whether it had been to Whitney or himself, she couldn’t tell.

  Whitney couldn’t help the pout tha
t formed. She had hundreds of questions floating around in her mind, and not enough time to get answers. It would have been easier if being a siren came with an instruction manual. Okay, it wasn’t that bad that her instruction manual had beautiful eyes and a rock-hard body. It was a pretty good trade off, but would be better if she had unlimited access to his answers, too. He was close to perfect, just not quite perfect enough to pull it off teaching her everything she needed to know in thirty minutes. Who knew, though? Sam seemed to be full of surprises lately.

  Whitney listened as Sam talked on and on about the mer and siren in general. She knew some of the stuff, and the other was new, yet boring. He told about the night human wars and how all the mer sided with the wrong side, how the sirens helped but didn’t really care who won, and how they escaped being found by building their own island world to live at away from everyone else. It was a cool story, but it didn’t help her in the basics of how to survive as a mermaid. So far all she knew was that it was close to impossible to turn someone into a mer, and even telling non-mer about them would get them exiled. Neither of those two things helped her much.

  She was more than ready with questions when Sam took a breath and looked at her, trying to see if she understood his last lengthy explanation about why the mer were secret. Whitney understood secrets even if night humans weren’t secret to her growing up. Her best friend was forbidden by her uncle to learn about night humans. Whitney was a good friend and night human, so she never told her friend about it without permission.

  “Okay,” Whitney drew out her reply. “So keep it a secret. I’m willing to do that. I don’t even want to find out what sunning as a torture method means.” That was one point which had caught her attention. Sam had mentioned it more than once.

  “No, you don’t.”

  “Then how about we get to the stuff I really need to know about.”

  Sam looked like he was lost. To him, what he had been explaining was what she needed to know. Whitney tried not to giggle at his confused face. It didn’t take more than a couple sentences to understand that Sam was proud of being a siren.