A Pirate's Dream (14 page)

Tapping talons onto the desk, Sirenade seemed deep in thought. “Then maybe it was what you did. How you killed that snake. Perhaps your violence upset her.”

It was like a sucker punch to the gut. He’d never even considered that she might fear him. It’d been his fear for her that’d turned him so manic. His elemental form was far more savage looking. Because of the level of fear he’d felt, he knew he’d transformed and that his face had shifted to the one he’d been born with, but... she’d touched him back. Hadn’t she?

Or had he yanked her into him and given her no choice? He scrubbed at his skull.

“It is past dinner.” Her swift change in subject confused him.

“And? What is that to me?”

Smiling secretly, she turned her attention back to her paperwork. “It is dark out. The sky, full of twinkling fish light. A lovely evening, if not slightly brisk. And I have it on good authority—”

She didn’t need to finish; Sircco was up and moving for the gardens determined that come Hell or high water, Nimue would not escape him this time.

*

S
miling, Sirenade shook her head and tapped her quill to a bubble of water. Danika’s face wavered into focus.

The fairy’s brow twitched.

“How am I doing, fae?”

“For your first time, quite well, Sea Queen.” Laughter shivered in the fairy’s melodious voice. “Quite a stroke of genius to have Jian’s magic fetch Sircco over you.”

“Yes, well... I thought that was rather clever on my part. Besides, you know how my brother loves to be the conquering knight, saving the damsel’s in distress. I knew his curiosity would get the better of him. But...” She sighed, her smile turning serious. “I fear I’m not doing good enough. She only has three months left to justifiably keep her here.”

“Dinna fash yerself,” the fae spoke in the old tongue. “Nimue is head over heels in love with him.”

Sirenade had never wanted a mate and could never understand the compulsion for one. But her brother had always been made of different stock. Calypso had seen fit to give him a heart only half made. Whereas Sirenade’s was full and whole, Sircco’s would never be until he found the one to make him whole.

After these many months, Sirenade could honestly say that she enjoyed the legger and would be honored to welcome her as King Consort.

“Aye, but the point is in convincing my brother that he feels the same.”

Danika snorted. “If there is anything I know about anything, it is love. And he does. He simply doesn’t recognize it.”

“So how do we do this then, fae?”

A mysterious smile rolled across Danika’s face. “There is only one way to catch a pirate, Queen.”

“And that is?”

“To become treasure. Of course.”

*

S
he jumped when he sat on the bench beside her. The coral-hewn bench hadn’t been built to handle more than one folk at a time, but a legger and folk was fine, if not a bit cramped.

Still, he found he didn’t mind the press of her thigh.

“Don’t.” He caught her elbow as she tried to get up.

“I’m... I’m...” She pursed her lips, still not looking at him. “If you want the bench, Sircco, you can have it. It’s getting cool out anyway.”

The sun had set over an hour ago; the waters were slightly on the chilly side. But she’d dressed for it. Her clothing was made of a sturdier type of annelid silk than the near-transparent ones she’d worn when she first arrived.

“For weeks now, you’ve run from me, and I wish to know why. Are you...” He clenched his jaw. “Did I frighten you, Nimue?”

As if perplexed that he should say that, she finally turned to look at him, and his breath caught.

She sparkled, just as Sirenade said. Her skin, always so pale, was so incredibly luminescent, shimmering as though she’d painted herself with glitter. Unable to resist touching the bright pink of her cheeks, he feathered his fingers across her velvet-soft flesh. The feel of it made him think of the bell flower petals Sirenade was so fond of.

She blinked but didn’t move.

“Do I scare you, little pirate?” he asked again, his voice deep throated, full of words he couldn’t speak.

“No,” she breathed after a moment, “you don’t.”

Hearing her speak to him after a month of silence made him quiver. He’d missed her laugh and her coy smiles, never feeling the absence of them as keenly as he did now.

“Then why have you avoided me? Have I done aught to—”

Reaching up, she covered her hand with his. Her fingers, so much smaller and softer than his own, would have brought him to his tail if he’d been standing. She had a power over him that he could not explain and wasn’t altogether sure he liked, but he also never wanted to go without it.

“You’ve done nothing, Sircco. It’s me. It’s all me.” Sighing, she scooted down on the bench until half her body hung off, and angled herself to the side so that no part of her touched him.

But still, he felt her heat flow between them. Warm and tantalizing, she smelled of spring dew.

“Do you miss your family?”

Leaning forward, she planted her jaw on her closed fist as Jian circled the waters in front of her, blowing out tiny air bubbles in his wake. Wagging her fingers at the dragon whose ear fins buzzed excitedly, she nodded. “I do. More and more each day. I’ve had time to think about what I did and why I did it. It all feels so foolish now.”

She’d never told him why she’d attempted to steal the hag’s orb. “Why did you go to the hidden isle?”

Lips stretching into a chagrined smile, she gave him a quick side-eye glance before saying, “I wanted to prove to them that I could handle myself without the constant protection of father’s bodyguards.”

Smiling, he scooted just slightly toward her, so that the edge of his fin lightly grazed the toe of her boot. She looked down with a small frown, and he could sense her debate on whether to get up and leave or stay as she was.

She stayed, and he released a deep breath. “But you are capable. I see it everyday.”

“I’m trapped,” she grumped, her full lips tipping down into a gentle frown.

After all this time, that she still considered herself to be so saddened him. He’d hoped by now that she’d have begun to feel accepted, perhaps even drawn to Seren.

“Only for three months more, and then you can return to the above and forget all about us.” Sircco hadn’t meant to make it sound so sulky, but somehow, he had. And now it was his turn to frown.

Shaking her head, causing her coils of black hair to bounce attractively around her shoulders, she flicked a finger at one of Jian’s bubbles. “No, you all have been pleasant. And getting to meet my great-mother, hear your stories of Talia.” Her lips twitched in the ghost of a smile. “It’s been wonderful. I’ve been given more than I had a right to.”

Speak of her, not of Talia
.

He could rule his people and his lands with an iron fist, but opening up had never come easily to him.

“You are a strong legger. A proud one. I see the way my people treat you—Stygia the most—and always, you hold your head up with pride, never rising to her petty taunts. You are brave and—” He swallowed, “Lovely, Nimue. It has been an honor to know you.”

As he’d talked, she’d turned around, so that her knee now brushed the center of his tail, and it was all he could do not to drag her onto his lap and touch her body as he wished he had the right to do.

“Lovely. You think I’m lovely?” The way she said it, soft and breathless, made his breath catch. “From the waist up at least, no.”

Her laughter should have made him smile, but he couldn’t. Grabbing her hand, he threaded their fingers together, studying the delicate digits, fascinated by the soft webbing between and the neatly trimmed nails.

She sucked in a sharp breath, and he could feel her trembling, but he couldn’t seem to force himself to let her hand go.

There was no artifice to Nimue; she simply was who she was.

“I find all of you fascinating, creature.”

Heart pounding away in his chest, he knew that if he didn’t release her soon, he would do something to embarrass them both. Releasing her quickly, he stood and dipped his head.

“May I join you in the gardens tomorrow eve?” And every other night afterward, he wanted to ask, but didn’t.

Blue eyes that reminded him so much of the skies from which she’d came sparkled as she nodded slowly. “I would like that.”

Bowing deeply, he crossed his arms behind his back and swam for his room, fearing he might be leaving his heart behind.

By the Gods, what was he doing?

T
he next month passed in a blur, and Nimue was right back in the same situation she’d tried so desperately to claw her way out of where Sircco was concerned.

From the moment he’d torn that snake into pieces, she’d recognized the truth of what was happening to her. She had fallen in love with the Sea King.

Squeezing her eyes shut, she sat on her great-mother’s bench, taking an afternoon break from harvesting, and nibbled on a wedge of cowfish cheese. It was slightly saltier than its above counterpart, more orange in color, but tasty nonetheless.

Ariana was sharing in the repast. “You look sad, Nimue. I do not like that.”

Tossing her friend a glance, she shook her head. “I’m not sad. But I do think I’m sick.”

Lovesick, if it mattered.

Her nights were spent frustrated, fluctuating between wishing she could speak with her mother, to wondering about the merman who slept in the room adjoining hers.

She’d only recently discovered that fact. And she wished to the Gods she hadn’t, because now every time she heard a sound, she was sure it was him. And if she heard him, he must hear her. Around and around, her thoughts would go until finally, she would drop off to sleep completely exhausted, only to have the process repeat itself the very next day.

Sircco seemed to take any and every opportunity he could to touch her—nothing sexual or even for long, but his fingers were constantly grazing her in one form or another. Touching a cheek, feathering across the base of her spine when he helped usher her into the dining hall, once he’d even tucked a curl of hair behind her ear and traced the shell of her ear as though it were the most exquisite gem he’d ever seen.

It was now too cool to visit the garden during the evening, and somehow, without either of them saying it, they’d taken their nightly visits from there to his private library. Some nights, she read to him; other nights, he to her. She looked forward to those stolen moments alone with him more than any other point in her day.

Licking the last of the crumbs from her fingers, Ariana turned toward Nimue, studying her with a critical eye. “Your skin does look pale. And there are ink kisses beneath your eyes.”

“Ink kisses?” She frowned, touching her cheek. She’d not crossed paths with any squid or octopus that she could remember.

“No, silly. Here.”

Ariana lifted her finger so that it now touched the soft skin beneath her eye.

“Oh, circles,” Nimue said.

Wrinkling her pretty nose, Ariana mouthed, “Leggers,” but kept it at that. She pinched Nimue’s side, making her yelp.

“Ari, manners,” she scolded, but the pretty mermaid merely chuckled with amusement.

“You do look as though you’ve lost a bit of weight, legger. You should not do that. You will lose his favor.”

“Whose favor?” She pinched the bridge of her nose, sensing a creeping headache coming on; she hadn’t slept well in days. She probably should have cancelled with her great-mother today, but she hadn’t wanted to pace her floors, either.

“The king’s. He loves you. Love makes men foolish. Oh, did you see my looking glass?”

The sudden shift made Nimue’s head spin. “Who told you he loves me? Folk cannot love leggers.” Her heart caught in her throat like hummingbird wings.

But Ariana was digging into her pouch and pulled out her prize. The glass, which shimmered and rippled like waves, was set inside a decorative silver handle.

“That’s nice.” Nimue touched the glass, and colors immediately began to swirl inside. Recognizing immediately that it was much more than a mere looking glass, she gasped. “Ari, do you know what that is?”

Ariana hugged it tight to her breast, pouting at Nimue. “Mine. It is mine. My friend gave it to me, and you should not... you should not take it. I did not know before. But I do now.”

Know before? What could the mermaid mean? “Ari, I wouldn’t. But don’t you see that it’s—”

Standing, Ariana shook her head hard. “You are my friend, pirate girl. Do not take my gift. Do not touch my gift.”

Hurt that Ariana would think she’d actually do such a thing, Nimue clamped down on her tongue. She’d stolen nothing down here—even her father, who’d reformed himself for her mother, couldn’t boast of such a feat.

“Ari, that is a communication mirror. Do you understand? I only hoped to use it long enough to say hello to my—”

“Bad, Nimue. Bad.” Ariana shoved the mirror into her pouch then twirled on her fin and swam away.

Great-mother came out moments later with a startled, inquisitive look in her blue eyes. “What in the name of Calypso happened to Ariana? Why was she crying, Nimue. What did you do?”

Crying? Do?

More than just a little upset now, she jerked to her feet. “I didn’t do anything. I was just—I was—” Clamping down on her back teeth, ache in her skull suddenly intensifying, she shook her head. “I’m sorry great-mother, but I should go back to the palace. I don’t feel well.”

Grandmother apologized, hugging her tightly and offering her a customary bowl of snails for Cook. Even though Nimue could tell that Maiven truly did feel sorry, there wasn’t much more to say.

By the time she arrived at the palace, she had a full-blown migraine. They rarely plagued her, but when one did, it came on with a vengeance.

“Nimue?” Sircco’s throaty voice was pinched with concern. “Are you all right?” Swimming to her side, he latched on to her elbow as she slowly made her way up what today seemed like an eternity of stairs.

Each step she took made her grimace. The nerves in her body snapped and burned as though she’d been lit from within.