A Mermaid's Ransom (3 page)

Definite meditation night. After she checked with Branson and confirmed he didn't need her help with anything else for the afternoon, she bid the manatees a good night in their own language, admonished the younger Leroy again to let the convalescing Buick have his space, and left the center. It was only a short walk down to the marina, and from there she picked up a short, sandy path to an isolated strip of beach along the waterway, little used since it wasn't really wide enough for walking or sunning. It was nearing high tide.

Leaning against the retaining wall, she let the water rush over her bare feet. As always, the touch of seawater, the smell of the ocean, sent a reassuring shiver through her. But an unfamiliar prickling of heat came with it. Not entirely pleasant, it made her skin ultrasensi tive, as it might feel after a brief encounter with a hot stove.

She'd wanted to see his face for more than that brief glimpse. Did he fear what she would see?
Beauty and the Beast
was one of her favorite fairy tales, because an empath could see it all. The monster beneath the flesh, no matter how beautiful the mask. The beauty of the soul, no matter the disfigurement. But she hadn't wanted to assess the balance within him. She'd needed to look into his eyes for a reason she couldn't define, but it had been all-consuming. If she'd seen the darkness in him outweighing the light, would she have clung to him anyway, because he needed her? It was a desperation that went deeper into the soul than even she'd ever delved. Down to the dark, frightening places where children screamed but no mother came, pain and fear were the air one breathed, and the earth had no magic beneath the soles of the feet.

"Alexis?"

A warm light had spread over her skin. She raised her gaze to her father's dark eyes. Apparently when she hadn't responded right away, he'd intensified his energy field, a polite way of drawing her attention rather than jarring her. They were not outside of human view here, but the distant boats wouldn't matter. As Prime Legion Commander for the Goddess, Jonah wielded enough power to keep humans from seeing anything he didn't want them to see.

"Seabird." When he put his hands on her shoulders, she shivered. For a single, shocking moment, she didn't want him to touch her. That snapped her out of the fog in a way that sleepwalking to the shore and having an angel land right before her hadn't.

"Pyel," she said, using the mermaid word for
father
, a reassurance to herself as well as a greeting. "I'm sorry. I haven't been feeling well today. Not illness. Just . . . a dream I can't shake."

She'd been about to say "bad dream," but had it really been bad? Or just disturbing? The thoughts she'd had most of the day were frightening only insofar as she wasn't sure she'd ever reacted that strongly to a male before.

Jonah cupped her face in one large hand. Angels were immortal, so his breathtaking handsomeness never faded, but he was well over a thousand years old. His hair was black with a few stray streaks of copper from sunlight, his eyes solid almonds of liquid onyx fire, no whites. To most, the eyes of angels were unfathomable, but even without her gift she knew their nuances, how to read emotion from them as well as minute changes of his face. The things she saw there, could feel from him, told her he was truly ancient. He'd seen and done both terrible and awe-inspiring things. Yet he was her father. Anna had told her the day Alexis was born, Jonah had shed half the weight off of his heart to match the airlike joy of his daughter's.

He ran his thumb over her cheek. While she could see his concern, far more penetrating and shrewd than she could handle right now, he seemed to read her mind. His lips slowly curved. "Care to be dropped from a great height, if I promise to catch you?"

"Not if I catch you first."

Three

SHE stripped off her clothes, bundling and putting them in a safe spot under a shrub planted along the top of the retaining wall. Modesty was not a trait most shapeshifters could afford, and she was no exception.

That said, she was surprised at a ripple of self-consciousness under Jonah's quick, appraising gaze. It was a father's check for her physical well-being, something he'd been doing since she was an infant. But after her sensual dream, her body felt . . . awake, in a very non-daughterlike way.

As always, he scowled at the navel piercing, but she knew he did it just to win a sassy grin out of her. That helped her shake off the odd feeling. Returning to him, she lifted onto her toes and looped her arms around his neck. Easy as that, they were aloft. She had human friends that feared heights, but she'd been in the sky as much as the ocean all her life, and had no fear of either. What was there to fear?

Jonah took her up over the cloud cover, so an overcast day became one filled with sunshine, driving back the shadows. Hooking her legs on his calves, she indulged the pleasure she and her mother shared, burying her fingers behind his shoulders into the soft layers of long feathers, far thicker than her own. He had a magnificent pair of silver white wings, and the hard body under the clasp of legs and arms made her feel safe.

Had the dark stranger ever felt safe? It was an unexpected thought, considering how intimidating he'd been.

The cloud banks were tight rolls, forming a deep mattress she knew an angel could make corporeal, sustaining weight. She'd spent wonderful days of her childhood reclining on them, reading books while her father did the same nearby, her mother weaving cloud wisps into a temporary crown for her daughter's head, or creating animal shapes to amuse her. Sometimes Jonah practiced arms with the other angels, holding her awestruck with the display of flashing steel, quick acrobatics, and best of all, the banter that all men-at-arms shared, even though they'd kept it very clean for her young ears and her mother's, only hinting at the ribald insults they might normally exchange.

Now, though, he took her above even that, until the air was thinner and she could sense the stars waiting above, the Earth far, far below. Then he slanted a look at her. "Ready?"

For answer, she pushed off his thigh with an impish smile and took a swan dive back into open blue sky. As she twirled, managing the air currents, she let the wings emerge from between her shoulder blades. Scales lapped out onto her hips, her legs and feet coming together in a tight point to allow for the fusion transformation that culminated in her tail, the gold and red scales glittering in the sunlight, delicate fins unfurling to fan the air.

He was near as she recovered and swooped upward, maneuvering around and under him, evading the playful grab. When she was young, the game had a serious undercurrent, teaching her flying skills. She'd learned her lessons well, so while he could catch her, he had to expend effort to do so. She'd learned to be satisfied with that, for his speed and agility far superseded hers. He could circumvent the globe in the time it took her to have a thought.

Eventually tiring, she hovered and enjoyed the wide expanse of sky, the reach of the sunlight, the dots of birds in the distance. Far below, the clouds had shifted so she had a glimpse of green and blue terrain. The troubles of its inhabitants were not part of her mind right now, giving her a quiet breathing space.

"Are your filters still working, Seabird?"

He was at her shoulder, but she didn't turn, preferring to gaze at the Earth. "I never have any trouble with them, Pyel. I can feel what people feel, but it doesn't drain me, thanks to my angel half. I just like the quiet sometimes. You know?"

"I do." He gave her time to relax into it, let the meditation ease her mind further, then teased her into another game of cat and mouse. By the time she was breathless again, they were reclining on a cloud bank. Propping himself on his elbows, he glanced at her. "Want to go see your mother now?"

"I know you do." Slanting him a grin, she lay flat on her back, her arms drifting up and down in the mist like a butterfly's slowly moving wings, her own curved beneath her. "You've been away from her for what, an hour?"

"Has it been that long? She'll think I've run off with a water nymph."

"I'm going to tell her exactly that." Alexis levitated and shot off through the sky, her father hot on her heels. Or tail, in this case. The flash of sunlight on her scales attracted the attention of a flock of birds, who deviated off course to follow her. She and Jonah twisted and turned in the sky among them, laughing, then she let him take the lead, leaving the birds behind.

But as she closed her eyes, feeling the wind currents from his wing movements tease her lips, she spoke again. "Was it always like that for you two, Pyel?"

"Always. Time is short, Seabird." He glanced over his shoulder. "When you love someone, there's never enough time to spend with them."

As an angel, Jonah would live indefinitely, until something struck him from the sky. Thousands more years were possible. Anna had a life span of three hundred years. Because of that, Alexis understood why Jonah felt as he did, but part of it was just how they felt for one another. As strong as his energy was, when he was with Anna, it was brighter, even more intense. Alexis had been bathed in their love for each other all her life, enough to make her hope for the same one day. Perhaps she'd been longing for it more lately, explaining her fanciful dreams.

Her father was intimidating to many. Even now, he wore a weapons harness, which sheathed a wicked short sword. Because angels of the Legion only wore a red half-tunic, the layers of rippling muscle on his upper body and thighs were obvious, and daunting. But she'd never feared him. Instead, he'd always been there for her, so that she was certain he could stand between her and the worst the universe could devise.

An incomprehensible shiver went through her at the thought, but then they were spiraling down through the clouds. They headed toward the small sand spit where Anna was sunning, her water-sensitive tail half submerged against the lazy heat.

Forty-one now, Anna looked no older than Alexis. Long golden brown hair, burnished from the water, clung to her pale shoulders. A gold choker with a ruby pendant glittered at her throat, embellished with pearls, a gift from Mina when Alexis was born. She also wore a thin gauze wrap across her breasts long enough to wrap the ends around her lower torso. If she shapeshifted to human, the trait Lex had inherited, it provided a covering to keep from attracting too much attention. Though of course her extraordinary beauty likely made that a moot point. Her eyes, opening to gaze up into the sky, were the same violet blue as Alexis's.

Lex landed in the shallows, easing her tail into the water, her upper body to one hip to recline next to her mother. As she adjusted her wings, the tips scattered droplets against her mother's bare abdomen, rolling down her hip bone to the first layers of midnight blue and purple silver-tinged scales. Just like Jonah's feathers, Alexis twined her fingers through her mother's hair for the pure pleasure of doing so, a sheet of wet silk.

Jonah settled on his heels on the other side of his mate, gazing fondly at them both. "Your daughter wanted to know if you were always completely besotted with me."

Anna tilted her head toward Alexis, acknowledging the caress while looking at Jonah, a smile curving her mouth. "Besotted? I tolerated him, Lex. Large, grumpy bird. I took pity on him and agreed to be his mate until I had something better to do. I had you so you could help me. He's a great deal of work."

Lex chuckled. "No arguments there."

Anna, despite her words, reached up and ran her fingers over his strong features. His eyes softened and fired at once, a response of love and desire Lex had seen countless times between them. Beneath An na's words was a poignant truth. Because she would die long before he did, Anna had wanted to be sure he had family left to care for him. Lex would be that, along with all the sons and daughters that came after. She loved children, but she knew she would have had them no matter what, because neither she nor her mother could bear the thought of her father's loneliness. Angels only mated once in their entire life span. Their first love was their last love.

The thought made her lonely for that intimacy, a bond that would last through the generations. That wasn't like her, either. Yes, she'd been frustrated with her inability to win more than platonic adoration from any male as she matured into a woman, but she received so much love and warmth from the people around her, it had balanced. This was the first time she'd ever felt the sharp knife edge of envy, a needy yearning that shot her right back into the grip of the dream, and made her wish for its return.

Jonah brushed a kiss on Anna's willing mouth. "I'll be right back."

As he went aloft again, Lex cocked a brow. "You know, it's really obvious when you two do that. The unspoken strategy of, 'If I make myself scarce, I think she'll tell you what's bothering her, then you can rat her out to me later.'"

"Well, he is a warrior, not a spy. Subtlety is not his strongest suit, trust me." Anna leaned back on her elbows and studied Alexis's face. "So what's happening? Why did you ask him about our feelings for one another?"

Lex shrugged. "I just wanted to know. Did it take everything over, make you feel as if everything was about to change? Like maybe the world was about to upend itself and you weren't sure which way to fall, or if you were even going to fall?"

"Have you met someone?" Curiosity sharpened Anna's expression.

"Does it sound like I have?"

"It does," Anna said. "You've mentioned young men at your college you wished felt more for you. Is it one of them?"

"No. I actually haven't met someone. Or maybe I have. It was a dream, but it felt like not a dream, you know?"

Anna straightened to a sitting position. "Lex, I know you live in a human world. Sometimes that can make you quick to dismiss the unusual as they do, thinking it's coincidence or indigestion."

"Shades of
A Christmas Carol
," Alexis noted, trying to smile.

"But you are not human," her mother persisted. "It's best not to assume a disturbing dream is just a dream."

Oh, hell.
She should have known better. This was leading right into whether she was spending too much time in the human world, a concern Anna and Jonah both shared, for different reasons. Anna knew that Lex, because of her differences, could never truly belong in that world, and feared the hurt of being an outsider would eventually cut too deep if she attached herself to human society. For Jonah, it was much simpler. He didn't trust humans. Or merpeople. Or anyone, really, except his own Legion. He'd be happiest if she stayed in the Citadel, the seven-level fortress in the Heavens used as the angels' base of operations.

But she loved her life. She'd understood early on she would always be an outsider, no matter in which world she made her home. She wasn't pure mermaid or pure angel, but she could shift to human form. So she'd created a world for herself there and, as an empath, she felt she was given as much as she gave back. She was loved for her differences, not shunned.

"I'm fine." Since her mother's emotions were worrisome storm clouds, Alexis used the singsong lilting notes of the mermaid language. "Don't worry, Myel."

"Can you tell me about it? Your dream?"

Alexis shrugged, feeling color rise in her cheeks under Anna's interested regard. "It was a private dream, of sorts. I wouldn't want you to have to tell Pyel about it. He'd think of ways to invade my dreams and drive off illusion men."

"It was a dream about a man."

Lex nodded. "An incredible, amazing man. Full of fire, but also so full of pain. I've felt terrible things from a soul before, but this . . . Myel, he's surrounded by evil and death, and he's part of it, but not. Like a soul that's drawn evil around him as camouflage to blend, but he's pulled it inside himself, so he can't take off the mask. Maybe he doesn't even know he's wearing one anymore."

"Are your filters working?"

Lex bit back impatience. "Yes, I told Pyel they were. Why do you both always ask that?"

"Because we remember when you didn't have them."

Her mother's reminder, a gentle rebuke, helped curb her irritation. The natural filters with which she'd been born kept outside emotions from drowning her soul, but they didn't make her deaf, mute or blind to those feelings from others. They simply provided her with emotional distance. If she used the filters, the emotions backed off a bit, gave her time to absorb them at her own pace.

As her mother had pointed out, she hadn't had control of her filters at first. Mina had used her powers to lock them down until Lex was old enough to start handling their manipulation on her own. It had nearly driven her mad before they figured out what was wrong. A child's mind couldn't comprehend the suffering that every being carried in some measure. Thanks to Mina's lock, until she came of age, people's emotions had been distant images and impressions, like the background murmur of television.

"Some babies cried from colic." Anna twined a lock of Lex's hair around her fingers. "I didn't know if mine was crying from her own distress or that of the whole world."

Her parents had to keep her isolated until she was ten. Even after that, they'd been obsessively protective. Lex knew it had been necessary. She also knew the history of her mother's ancestors. Before Anna, every daughter of Arianne had been born with a curse that made it practically impossible to exist without causing harm to herself or others. Anna had been the first exception, thanks to Mina's magic. No matter that Mina had assured Anna the curse appeared to be broken when Anna passed the age of twenty-one, something no other daughter of Arianne had done, her mother had suffered more than one agonizing period in those early years, thinking it had simply skipped a generation and struck Lex.

Lex knew that, because her mother's pain and fear had been the sharpest of the many emotions that had speared her as a child.