Diary of a Radical Mermaid (19 page)

BOOK: Diary of a Radical Mermaid
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They smiled at me. I nearly burst into tears of gratitude and smiled back.

After they left the room he made a pretense of setting the tray down just so on the side of the bed, being quite formal about it, not looking at me as he pulled a chair to the bedside and sat down. “Glad to see you’re awake,” he said brusquely, pouring me some tea. “Let’s get some food into you—”

“Now I know I really can breathe underwater,” I whispered. “Because of you. You changed who I am. What I am. How I exist.”

Slowly he met my tearful, smiling gaze. His eyes were intense, trying to be businesslike. But he failed. “You’re a wonder,” he said softly. His mouth crooked. “And you give my pecker far too much credit.”

I would have laughed, but the grim circumstances came flooding back. “I told the girls the truth about Orion. That I’m not sure what to say about the person I met last night. All I know is that . . . he could easily have hurt me, kidnapped me, or threatened me. But he didn’t.”

Rhymer handed me a fragrant cup of tea, then sat back in his chair. His face hardened. “I’m not sure who you met last night on the river, but I’m betting it wasn’t Orion.”

“What?”

“I believe you’d be dead now, if it was him. The evidence says he’s violent and merciless. What you’ve described isn’t like him.”

“But you’ve never met him. How can you be sure?”

“He killed a roomful of scientists on a UniWorld ship. Slashed them to pieces. Women as well as men. He took my sister’s corpse. He’s never made himself known to his own daughters, but now he’s tracking them like a hunter. No, Moll, whoever you met, she or he doesn’t fit Orion’s profile.”

“But I felt . . . nobility. I felt grief. I felt questions.”

“You felt what you always want to feel in other people, because you’re a sweet soul. Orion kills first and asks questions later. He wouldn’t play cat and mouse games. He’d want you to be afraid. He’d force answers out of you. Do you think he’d come this close to tracking his daughters down only to stop and chat?”

“But you’ve said—”

“Yes, the girls are able to hide from him. I told them to shut him out, not to listen if he spoke to them, not to sing out, and they’ve mostly done it. Healers are powerful. One alone isn’t a match for a Swimmer, but three together, linked by his own bloodline, can put up a shield even he can’t break through. Unless they sing. So he knows he has to find them through others, such as you. And I’m betting he’d be willing to do whatever it took to get information from you.” Rhymer grimaced. “Including hurt you, if you wouldn’t talk.”

“Isn’t it possible that he’s not a monster? Maybe he simply wants to be sure his daughters are safe. Maybe he wants to know why you’ve taken them from him. And how you intend to raise them.”

“Are you willing to gamble the girls’ lives on such hopes?”

After a long moment, I sighed. “No.”

“Good. Now, let’s talk. Just to be on the safe side, I want you where I can keep an eye on you from now on. I want you to move in here. Agreed?’

I nodded solemnly. Live with Rhymer? Oh, yes. “Agreed.”

“And I want your word that you won’t encourage the girls to think kindly of their father. If they drop their defenses—”

“I won’t encourage them. You have my word.”

“And you’ll stay on dry land. No more marathon swims.”

“One if by land. Two if by sea. It’s true.”

“I’m begging your pardon?”

“I’m not alone in the water. You’re with me. I know that now. But no more solo swims. I promise.” I set the teacup on a nightstand. The comforter slid dangerously low on my breasts. His eyes followed the movement. “Rhymer,” I said quietly, “If I’m going to stay here, I need Heathcliff.”

“Never fear. I’ve already sent Jordan to fetch him.”

“Thank you.”

“Your puss is safe with me.”

I arched a brow. “Prove it.”

He got up, went to the door, and locked it.

Then he came back to the bed. The briefest pleasure is the most intense.

* * * *

“The bastard’s out there,” I told Jordan grimly. “I don’t know what his game is, but he’s close by, and he’s planning something.”

We stood on the island’s beach, watching the water. Moll was on my mind, inside my body, inside my heart.

Jordan crossed his arms over his chest. “If you really believe that Orion is nearby, why did you tell Molly and the girls you don’t believe he showed up in Savannah the other night?”

“Because I think he senses fear most of all. I don’t want him to feel their fear. To be led here by their fear.”

“Let’s be frank, cousin — you and I aren’t exactly not afraid.”

“Yes, but we can keep it to ourselves.” Always the macho military Mer, that was me. Stiff upper fin, and all that.

Jordan coughed. “Maybe you can. But I’m worried. Maybe we should load everyone on a fast ship and get out of here.”

“No. On the water we’d be an easier target.”

“Then let’s move inland. If the legends about Swimmers are true, they can’t travel inland too far.”

“But neither can Healers. The girls need to be near the ocean, or they’ll get sick. So we’ll stay here, we’ll stay on guard, and we’ll hope I’m wrong about him finding us.”

Jordan put a hand on my shoulder. “He’s found us already. It’s just a matter of time before he shows up.”

* * * *

I was a made Mer woman. I’d made love underwater, breathed underwater, mated underwater. I could see through even the darkest water clearly now, and I saw that Rhymer was lying to me. And me to him. We both knew that Orion was out there beyond our sight, that I had met him. That we were only waiting for him to show himself at Sainte’s Point. Waiting to find out what he wanted. I hoped for the best; Rhymer expected the worst.

We made a good team that way.

 

 

And Now, a Visit from a Stranger
Chapter
18

I woke up in the not-so-private massage tub of my suite at Casa de Prison Araiza. Godzilla stood over me. I looked up at her in drowsy disgust through the water. Given the rippled effect, it wasn’t so bad.

Oh, it’s just you, Aphrodite. I sat up, naked, shedding water and salty bath soap. My inflated bath pillow floated away on a riptide of high-powered jets. With nothing better to do in confinement, I’d become addicted to the tub. Particularly the underwater jets at crotch level.

“Get up, Juna Lee,” she ordered. “You’re going home.”

I leapt from the tub like a Sea World porpoise. “Jordan’s here?”

“No, but he sent a boat.”

“He can’t stand to be without me. I knew it!” I dressed in a rush, donning something slinky and winding my wet hair up in a decorative bun. Meanwhile, Aphrodite watched me with a stony expression. Odd. She’d never been a cold, dark-eyed bitch before, just a regular bitch. Tonight she gave me the creeps. A first.

“Aw, I ruined your fun,” I taunted. “Mamsie-whamsie is pouty-whouty because she won’t have Scarlett-wolett to kick around anymore.”

No reaction. Not even a disgusted eye-roll. I frowned. Where was the wicked Araiza wit? The Spanish-tinged arrogance? Aphrodite just pointed toward the door. “Follow me.”

She led me out of the quiet, sleeping hotel into a sultry Caribbean night. I strode after her to the hotel’s marina, then out onto one of many long docks. She stopped before a nice little yacht. “Go. Goodbye.”

“Great. Hey, don’t forget to write. Assuming you’re actually literate.” I flounced aboard, then sang out, “Captain? Oh, Captain! Set a course for Sainte’s Point Island, Georgia, in the fabulous United States of America. Full speed ahead! And fetch me a 3 a.m. martini. Let’s celebrate! The Oprah Winfrey of Hispanic Mers can’t keep me here anymore!” I turned to stick my tongue out at Aphrodite. My tongue froze in midair. She’d vanished. I stared at the long, empty dock, looked up and down, then shrugged. Who said whales couldn’t move fast?

Charley stepped out of the main cabin.

“Charley!” I’d never been so happy to see my big, sweet-dumb, steroid-enhanced cousin in my life. “I should have known Jordan would send you to escort me back in style!”

“Come inside the cabin.”

Good-natured Charley looked strangely serious. There was something weird about his eyes. “Charley? Give me a smile?”

“We’ve got a long trip ahead. Come inside.”

“Charley?” I followed him into the cabin. He shut the hatch door. And locked it. I frowned back at him. “You’re not still mad about that little kidnapping incident involving Molly Revere, are you? I mean, you aren’t in any trouble with the Council over it, are you? I’ll sweet-talk them for you—”

A knife-sharp vibration stabbed me between the eyes. I sank onto a couch, holding my head and eeking. The pain faded away. Breathing hard, I stared up at Charley. “Charley?”

Only it wasn’t Charley. And it hadn’t been Aphrodite, either. Whoever lived behind those dark eyes looked down at me with the power to turn my brain cells into quacamole. “You’ll stay in this cabin during the trip to Sainte’s Point,” he said in a deep, non-Charley voice, “and you won’t try to escape. If you do try, I’ll hurt you. I’ll know when you sleep, when you wake, and I’ll know when you think of diving overboard. You won’t get far from me, and I’ll make you wish you’d never wanted to. What I did just now is only a pale demonstration of my talents. Don’t make me do worse.”

“You’re putting some kind of sonic handcuffs on me? What — I’m a prisoner? You’ll keep me under 24/7 sonic/psychic surveillance? You’ll see me when I’m sleeping. You’ll know when I’m awake. Who are you — Santa Claus?”

“The name’s Orion. And you’re not here as a prisoner.” He paused. Charley’s face almost smiled. It was terrifying. “You’re here as bait.”

 

 

Trouble Starts
Chapter
19

“Tell me what Hyacinth finds in the underwater cave of the Cyclops,” I said, my fingers posed over the keyboard of my laptop. The girls and I were spending the summer afternoon in Lilith Bonavendier’s exquisite sunroom. I pretended that we weren’t, essentially, living in the mansion as if it were a fortress. Rhymer had given them strict instructions to stay inside me and Heathcliff.

Behind me, Stella solemnly unveiled the magnificent portrait of Melasine. The legendary Mer-Mother looked down on us with her sea-green eyes. Molly Martha, she seemed to say, you’re where you belong at last. Now all you have to do is keep these girls and Rhymer alive.

“Hyacinth finds killer lobsters the size of army tanks in the cave of the Cyclops,” Isis suggested. She curled up on a velvet settee, hugging her knees. “When Hyacinth orders them to attack, they snip people’s heads off.”

“Ahah,” I said, trying not to frown at her cynicism. “Gangsta lobsters. Doing drive-by snippings.”

“No, I know!” Venus said excitedly. “Hyacinth finds giant, beautiful conch shells in the cave, with talking snails inside!” She sprawled on her stomach atop a Turkish rug, her chin on her webbed hands. “Snails are very friendly. I talk to them all the time.”

“What do they say back?”

“They say, ‘Where’s your slime trail? Where’s your shell?’”

I smiled as I typed: “Slinky, slithering slugs like to socialize and snoop.”

Venus burst into giggles. Even sour Isis couldn’t hide a grin.

Stella sighed at her sisters’ fancies. “I say Hyacinth finds a magical amulet. Capable of turning back time and reversing all the terrible things that make us sad.”

I looked at her gently. “Wouldn’t that be wonderful?”

She nodded. “I vote for a magical amulet.”

“I’ll put all that in my notes along with talking snails and vindictive lobsters, and we’ll see what develops.”

I typed a list of plot points, all the time feeling the weight of the girls’ pensive scrutiny. No doubt they sensed their father was closing in. Yet I could not believe the . . . the being I’d met in Savannah was bent on harming these children. His own daughters. Dear God, please let me be right.

Footsteps tapped smartly on the stone floor of the main hall. Sharp heels. Long, urgent strides. The girls looked up. “It’s Tula,” I said somberly. She’d forgiven me for shutting her out after the Orion incident. She understood my fear that he’d listen and follow me.

Tula halted in the doorway. Picture Julia Roberts with webbed toes and stunned eyes. Her fear hit me, and when she spoke, I understood why.

“Orion’s kidnapped Juna Lee,” she said.

* * * *

Some Peacekeeper you are, Rhymer McEvers, I told myself. Some uncle. Protect the girls. That was your only charge. Now Moll’s in the mix, and Jordan, and Tula, and last but not least, Juna Lee.

Jordan was crazed with worry over her.

“I’ll call in the other Peacekeepers to aid the search,” I told Jordan. “They’ll help you find her.” He shook his head as he climbed into a small, fast boat at Sainte’s Point. Jordan slung an Uzi over one shoulder and nodded to me and Moll. He slid a key into the boat’s ignition. “He outwitted Aphrodite Araiza and all her family to steal Juna Lee, so no doubt he’d outwit any Peacekeepers who tried to catch him.”

I nodded but stared grimly at the small boat. “Taking such a plaything for a trip through open seas to the Caribbean is risky, even for a pair of Mers.”

Tula stoically checked the lashings on the boat’s canvas canopy, which she’d lowered for better speed. “Juna Lee is my cousin. Even if she’s an annoying diva, she’s also my best friend. I expect to find Orion completely in her thrall and serving her martinis while she hypnotizes him with showbiz gossip. But just on the off chance she’s really in trouble, I’m going along with Jordan.”

“If it’s any comfort to you, Orion went to some trouble to take Juna Lee without hurting her. Could be he’s hoping to trade her for the girls.” I paused. “But he probably senses that I’d never go for that.”

Jordan nodded. “I’d never ask you to make that kind of trade.”

Tula waved from the stern, where she stood like an elegant warrior woman, holding a rifle. She looked up the knoll behind me, to Moll. “Do I look dangerous enough?” she called.

Moll called back, “Yes! Just like a villainess in a Bond movie.”

BOOK: Diary of a Radical Mermaid
13.46Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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