Droplets (DROPLETS Trilogy Book 1) (7 page)

     Moving to get a closer look, I gasped once more. The ripples upon the surface from my movement caused the lavender scar to dance with flashes of twinkling colors. I was transfixed in watching the small cut rippling beneath the surface. It reminded me of the merman’s fins, the odd shape I had seen the night I was out singing. They had always been constantly changing even though the merman himself hadn’t looked like he was moving. Now I knew why. The water was what caused the fins to look like they were in constant motion.

     Time slipped by as I watched the shimmering of my little cut. Finally, I ducked under the water one more time and then stood. The water rushed down my smooth skin like a river. I reached for a towel and then remembered there was hardly any need for one. Once all of the water ran down my body I would be perfectly dry. I waited a few seconds and then stepped from the tub, just as dry as I had been before getting in the water. I quickly pulled on my pajamas and was just about to head back to my room when I saw my reflection in the mirror.

     The girl standing opposite me looked very different from the one I usually saw. I was used to seeing an average girl, with soft golden curls, and a calm face. Now the reflection had eyes wide and open with curiosity. Mischief and excitement were bubbling below the surface of every feature. This girl was more aware of the world, or more ready for the world. She was ready to do new things and live differently. I placed my hands along the counter to support myself as I looked at my reflection.

     I turned my head from side to side to get a better look at this new me. My hair caught my attention. It had changed not in color, length, or style, but rather in its movement. It lay on my shoulders as normal hair would, but if I whipped my head around it did not follow quickly. Instead it floated along and settled on my shoulders once I was still. It reminded me of the hair I had seen upon the merman.

     It was like I was underwater, and my hair had a hard time moving through the air. I moved my head from side to side and watched as the hair rippled in slow motion. It was beautiful to watch, mesmerizing to look at, just like the shimmering cut on my hip.

     Uncertainty of what I was becoming trickled into my mind. I just hoped that I would not inherit the cold dead look in the merman’s eyes. Although, if I had to spend the rest of my life with him, and who knew how long that life could be, I would not be surprised if I looked as evil as he did.

     A soft shudder ran down my spine and goose bumps rose on my skin. Ignoring the reaction, I turned and walked back to my room, with the merman’s dark gaze engraved in my thoughts.  

6. Visitor

A month passed, allowing me to settle into my normal routine. The jumpy nervousness of being found out slowly dissipated as the days went by. If it wasn’t for the lavender scar on my hip, I would have thought the encounter with the merman was all a dream. 

     I worked every weekend at Darrow’s Catch from noon till close. I liked being a waitress, especially for people that I knew. It was one of the neat aspects of our town. There was a large group of residents who, like my father, had lived in Coveside their whole lives. These people were long-term family friends and usually visited the restaurant every Saturday or Sunday night, making my job more fun than usual.

     I had another all day shift today which I knew would be hectic. Saturday nights always were, what with the regulars coming out, and the many tourists who had heard from locals that Darrow’s Catch was the best place to eat seafood. It would be busy, but busy was good. It kept me from dwelling on thoughts (thoughts which would send me to an asylum if I ever voiced them).          

     The restaurant was within walking distance from our house. Originally, the Darrows had lived above the restaurant. But a while back, Dad had decided to use the whole building for business. We were then able to serve twice the amount of people, and eventually Dad bought the old house next door and joined it to the main building. He and my uncles knocked out the side walls of the houses and joined them together to look like one large structure. We used both of the first floors and one of the second floors of the houses for the restaurant. The other second story was a gift shop. The expansive kitchen stretched across the back of both buildings.

     My feet trudged up the back steps, which led directly into the spacious kitchen. I glanced around and saw I was first to arrive, but knew the others would be here soon. In preparation I began to pull out the cooking ingredients. Not long after I had accomplished this task, my cousin, Chelsea, walked through the door. She was short and trimmed; her body built like a gymnast, and had an easy smile that spread wide across her face.

     I smiled and greeted her, “Hey, girl!”

     “Hey, nice shirt,” she laughed. Our uniform was casual: jeans or khakis with a Darrow’s Catch t-shirt. Sean had designed the shirts about five years ago, and we now sold them as souvenirs in our little gift shop. The front of the shirt was plain with the words Darrow’s Catch up in the top left corner, and a small lobster hung off of the capital “D”. The back of the shirt had a drawing of the restaurant on it. The traditional Darrow’s Catch sign could even be seen hanging over the front porch.

     Of all the different colored shirts we owned, Chelsea and I were wearing the same one. I laughed along with her as she came and stood beside me, tying a small waitress apron around her tiny waist.

     “You ready to get started?  Laura won’t be here for another hour or so,” she said through gritted teeth. “She refuses to get out of bed before ten, and Mom says it’s fine! I mean really!”

     I nodded my head in agreement, knowing it was not a smart idea to take either of my cousin’s sides. Usually they got along, but when they did not it was best to stay out of their way. I praised my aunt for not letting them both come in at the same time; hopefully being apart would give them time to cool off.

     The day passed in a blur. Laura eventually arrived, along with Jessie and Hannah, two of my other cousins both from different families. Their mothers were right behind them. These three women were the reason why the restaurant was packed every weekend. People said they had never tasted better food than the food they ate at Darrow’s Catch. I was dubious of this, but knew that all of the credit went to my aunts, who were magicians in the kitchen.

     Laura, Chelsea, Jessie, Hannah, and I worked the restaurant with ease. We had faced many a packed house and had no worries or problems with it. Each of us was able to fly around the tables with incredible speed. We dodged and ducked, carried and served. We had worked together like this for a good three years and could almost read one another’s thoughts.

     My head jerked up as the bell above the door jingled, announcing the entrance of another customer. I glanced over my shoulder to see who it was.

     Four teenage boys from my high school trudged through the front door and were speaking to Laura, who was playing hostess tonight. Laura had never met a stranger, and we often had to remind her to seat people at tables when she got too carried away in her greeting duties. It looked as though I was going to have to remind her again. When it came to teenage boys, Laura never knew when to stop talking.

     I made my way over to the hostess stand. As I walked up, one of the boys named Trey smiled at me. He was tall and stood with his hands in the pockets of his Northface jacket and wore a baseball cap on his head. I inwardly groaned, because I’d seen that look on his face before. Why was it that some boys couldn’t take a hint?  Trey was a nice guy, but I wasn’t interested.

     “Hey, what’s up Lissie?” This came from a guy named Jonathan who was standing next to Trey. 

     Jonathan had short red hair, and freckles splattered all over his face and arms. Out of the group I knew him best, but I still didn’t know him all that well. He had simply been in multiple classes of mine and we had gotten to know each other through school over the years.   

     I recognized the other two boys, but I had no idea what their names were.

     “I’m doing great thanks,” I lied. “Umm… we’re pretty busy right now but I’m sure Laura can find you a table.”

     I smiled, and gave Laura a solid nudge when I said this to remind her of her job. Laura quickly turned to grab some menus and silverware. With a polite voice that had suddenly become business-like, she said, “Follow me please.”

     She whipped around on her heel to lead the gangly boys to their table. Jonathan spoke up before he followed her.

     “Just know I’m only going to pay if you are the one serving us,” he said with a friendly grin. “We haven’t talked in a while.”

     “Oh, and because we aren’t busy at all, I’ll be able to sit down and chat,” I responded sarcastically.

     This got a soft chuckle out of him and he turned to follow his friends. I watched to see what table Laura put them at, and then headed back to the kitchen to fetch some previous orders. When I finally got the chance I weaved my way through the chairs over to the circle table the boys sat at. I put on a smile and pretended to be formal because I knew it would make Jonathan laugh, “Hello, my name is Lissie and I will be your server tonight.”

     A wide grin split across Jonathan’s face, and I was quick to notice that one had crept across Trey’s as well. “Is there anything I can get you for starters? What would you like to drink?”

     I whipped out my notepad and pen, then turned to Jonathan who sat just to my right. He was grinning from ear to ear.

     “First of all, my dear lady,” he spoke in a mock British accent, exaggerating his words to sounds proper. “I must introduce myself and these fine gentlemen who accompany me this evening. My name is Jonathan, Sir Jonathan Bates. I am here tonight on a sort of outing with my dear friends. This here is Trey Watts,” he nodded toward Trey. I glanced at him and he smiled. “Over here on my left is Ethan Daniels,” I quickly looked at the dark haired boy; he had a crooked smile and looked like a good time. “And this fellow right here is Adam Robinson.” I looked over at the tow head that sat straight across the table from me. Jonathan gazed up at me with bright eyes and grinned even wider now that he had finished his speech.

     “How do you do?” I asked with an even better British accent than Jonathan’s. This was met with laughter from all four boys. I then transitioned back to normal speech, “Now how about I take your order?” A few minutes later I walked away from the table with drink and entrée orders.

     I couldn’t help but over-hear Jonathan say, “Told you she was awesome.”

     The night continued with me rushing around. I moved with more grace and speed than ever before. When their orders were ready, I walked into the kitchen to grab the food for my faux-British customer. I chuckled to myself as I thought of Jonathan’s silly attempt to sound British. Once I had placed the four entrees on the large plastic carrying tray, I headed out to the dining area.

     I was standing right beside Jonathan when I heard the bell above the restaurant door jingle again. It was amazing that over the constant hum of voices I was still able to hear the noise. I guessed it was my constant awareness of who I had to serve next. I reached for a large bowl of lobster chowder and as I leaned forward to set it in front of Jonathan, I glanced up to see who had come into the restaurant.

     Both bowl and tray fell from my hands. Jonathan yelped loudly as the hot chowder landed on his lap, his friends howled with laughter, and my tray crashed to the floor with a loud clatter. Soup sprayed and covered the floor, and everyone fell silent and looked at me, but I hardly noticed.

     It was
him
.

7. Him

There
he was. The merman. His broad stature took over the doorway, and his stance demanded attention.

     His legs spread in a powerful stance and his hands were casually tucked into the pockets of his jeans. A dark black shirt with long sleeves covered his arms, hiding the incredible muscles which I knew lay beneath the thin fabric. 

     My eyes widened in disbelief and fear. All of the dread and horror I had tried to overcome in the past month crept back into my veins. Blood pumped hard within my chest while I tried to concentrate on breathing.

     “Are you alright?” Trey had stood up beside me and placed his hand on my arm which had frozen in midair. His head kept swinging between me and the merman.

     I began to gather my bearings. My mind searched desperately for an explanation as the merman strode across the room toward me. There was power in every stride he took, yet to me each step seemed like an unwanted calling to the fate that awaited me. My breath caught in my throat.

     He stopped right in front of me. I couldn’t speak. I wanted to say something to make the strange scene appear normal, but my voice was suddenly gone. There was nothing I could think to say and his dark eyes bored into my own, chilling my spine with the same fear and dread I had experienced on the
Lady Marie
. 

     As I gazed at him, he surprised me with a warm, friendly smile. The merman reached out and calmly took me by the wrist. His grip was strong and firm, a silent demand that I do as he requested. With a soft jerk he led me toward the front door.

     Glancing back at the table, I saw Trey’s face filled with concern. The others looked stunned as well. They seemed frozen in the moment—as unsure as I about what to do. You could have heard a needle drop it was so quiet in the restaurant. Everyone had stopped for the moment. They could feel the otherworldliness, uniqueness, of the merman. With each step we took I hoped someone would stop him from leading me out the door, but knew no one would. I was his. 

     He didn’t let go of my hand once we left the restaurant. Instead he turned left and began to walk down the street with a brisk stride. Pulsating fear throbbed inside my heart.
Was he taking me away for good?

     He was no longer as gentle with me as he had been in the restaurant. His grip tightened around my wrist, forcing me to fight the urge to wince. Shoppers lined the streets, and couples meandered hand in hand along the sidewalks, but no one gave us a second glance. They seemed to be avoiding eye contact, actually. 

     He led me down Main Street, weaving past people as though they were not worth acknowledging. The ocean loomed before us at the end of the road; its white caps a beckoning call to the creature inside of me. A desperate struggle began in my mind: the desire to stay and the instinct to swim. But the forceful, dangerous grasp revealed what would happen if I followed my instinct, and everything inside of me yearned to be away from him. I tried to pull back, but he only tugged me along behind him with more force. 

     The sand crunched beneath our feet once we reached the shore, but the merman still held fast to my wrist. I expected him to lead us straight into the water, but instead he turned and tugged me to the left where he continued to lead us along the shore. Up ahead were the rocky boulders and stony walls I had played on so much as a child. At high tide the water crashed against the rocks, spraying whoever was nearby. The water was visibly creeping closer and closer to the rocks as the sun sank lower and lower in the sky.

     Without hesitation, the merman led us toward them. He walked past the first set, which reached high above our heads, and then stopped on the other side. With a tremble, I realized we were hidden from view. No one would be able to see us from the main port, and the many lights which I knew glowed in Coveside were completely concealed from us. 

     The ocean wind whipped around us, my hair lifting gently in the wind as I watched the merman’s move in a similar manner. His hair was as dark as I remembered, still hanging loose to where it touched the tips of his collar bone.

     With a jerk he released my hand, allowing me to feel free for a moment, until he turned back around to face me. His jaw was clenched tightly; all traces of his fake smile had long since disappeared. In its place, his eyes held the deep anger I had seen in them over a month ago. His very gaze was like a hand closing around my throat, a closeness making me struggle for breath.

     Adrenaline pumped through my veins as I thought of what he could do to me. I had no defense. I was his victim in every definition of the word. He could do whatever he wanted.

     He saw the fear in my eyes and smiled in response, but it was not like the one he had given before. This one made my blood turn cold and I fought the urge to flee.

     Finally he spoke, his voice as deep and dark as I remembered. “Are you well?” I was taken aback by the question.
Why did he care?
I struggled to find my voice, but couldn’t quite reach it.

     “You look fine,” he said as his eyes slid up and down, analyzing my body. They were filled with hunger, a deep desire of something long sought for.

     Looking back at him, my stomach tightened as I guessed what sensual thoughts ran through his mind. It made me squirm under his bold gaze and again the cruel smirk crept across his handsome, but evil face.

     “So, Marina, due to your untimely blackout, I was unable to explain things. Is there anything you would like to ask me?” His tone was monotonous as though he could care less. When I didn’t speak, he prodded further with another question. “How has your transition been?”

     My head whipped up in response.

     “What do you mean, exactly?” There was a slight tremor in my voice, but I tried to hide it.

     “Haven’t you noticed anything different about yourself?” The words were straightforward and unfriendly, the sneer still in place.

    “Yes, I have,” I said just as coldly. “If you are referring to the fact that my skin doesn’t get wet and my hair dries incredibly fast, then yes, I have noticed a difference.” The merman looked like he wanted to laugh at my attempt to sound rude.

     “Have you used your fins yet?” He asked, taking me by surprise.

     “F-f-fins,” I stuttered, my mind trying to catch up with the picture in my imagination. “You mean, I could actually have fins like, like, well… like… yours?” My voice trembled.

     He spoke to me as though I were a child, “It’s been about a month, has it not?” When I nodded he continued, “If you fully submerge yourself in a natural body of water, then yes, you would have fins similar to mine.”

     I couldn’t help but notice the bit of pride in his voice when he spoke of his own fins. I let the information sink in.

     To think, if I entered the ocean I would have fins instead of legs! Why, it seemed impossible. Again I looked out at the ocean with disbelief, and once more the strong surge rose within my chest—deep desire to immerse myself in the watery splashes and twirling currents. A world of curiosity and endless possibilities opened before me like the pages of a book.

      A sudden thought occurred to me and I asked it aloud, “What’s your name?”

      I blurted it out so quickly before thinking of what I was saying and instantly regretted asking. I glanced up to catch his reaction. His lips pursed slightly and his eyes narrowed marginally while scrutinizing my face. He paused, his features hesitating about whether he should tell me.

     “Morven.” The word slipped from his lips sounding harsh, cruel, and powerful. I nodded my head as though this were a completely normal conversation we were having.

     Feeling more confident now that I knew his name, I asked another question that had been bothering me. “Why do you call me Marina? My name is Lissie.”

     A furious look crept across Morven’s face and I took a step backward. He followed me. I continued to move back, but he matched me step for step. His eyes were deadly and filled with anger.

     My back hit the rock wall behind us. The cold stone poked and pricked me along my back. Petrified, I looked at the ground with wide eyes and watched as Morven’s feet stopped within an inch of mine. He was breathing heavily, his body close to mine. Summoning my courage I forced myself to look up.

     He stood above me, hovering. The sight of him was incredible. His broad and expansive shoulders took up all my vision. With a quick movement he placed both of his arms to either side of my body, thereby cutting off my potential, but unlikely, escape.  My breath shortened as I looked into his cold, dead eyes. When he spoke, it was with a more fearsome tone than I’d ever heard him use, “Your name is Marina because I say it is.”

     The finality in his voice was chilling. I managed to nod even though the back of my head was crushed against the rock wall.

     Again I looked down at the ground. Panic was rushing through my body. His strong form proclaimed the power he had over me, and even though everything within my being screamed for me to flee, I couldn’t. I was completely at his mercy. I had never felt so helpless.

     I could still hear his steady breathing and was aware of his chest moving up and down in a steady rhythm. A soft chuckle escaped his lips, and I looked up to find an icy smile on his lips. My heart thundered within my chest while my body trembled in fear. Shrinking into the wall even more, I cringed. I hoped he would pull away and release me from this trap.

     Without warning, Morven leaned his head toward mine. I reacted instinctively and turned my face to the side, gasping when his cool dry lips touched me on the cheek. I held perfectly still, frozen with fear, staring at the ground which was barely visible under Morven’s muscular arm. His lips moved persistently across my cheek and grazed along my jaw. There was a rigid fierceness in each kiss that prickled my stomach into a tight knot of disgust. My chest heaved as I tried to think of some way to stop him.

     I had thought that the lips would stop when they reached the bottom of my jaw, but again I was wrong. They continued to move down my neck to the base of my throat. A small cry of fear escaped from my lips unintentionally and I pressed them back together quickly. 

     At the sound of my whimper, Morven raised his head. Out of the corner of my eye I could see his amusement; he was smiling again and his shoulders shook slightly, which angered me further. He stood, patiently waiting for me to look at him, but I wouldn’t give him that pleasure.

     A tear slipped down my cheek and fell to the ground. I fought with all the strength I had to hold back the pressure behind my eyes and maintain my composure, but he saw straight through my façade.  

     Again a short laugh escaped Morven’s lips. He muttered something softly to himself and then spoke loud enough for me to hear.

     “Aren’t we innocent?” My fear turned to burning anger at his mocking.  How could he mock me after what he had just done, or what he had suggested he could and would eventually do to me?

     I whipped my head up to meet his gaze with a furious glare of my own. I would not reply to his rude comment. I would not give him the satisfaction. He became cross, his eyes lighting with anger and a deep frown pulling at the corners of his stern lips. A small feeling of bravado surged within me and I gained some courage. There were ways I could fight against him and not go quietly. I would fight him every step of the way.

     “You would do well to reply in the future.” The ferocity in his voice made the fear return, but this time I hid my fear and instead prodded him further.

     “Why were you there, that night, when I was out on the boat by myself?” If I hadn’t been watching him so closely I would not have noticed the slight movement he made: an uncomfortable gesture which pulled him slightly away from me. “I remember seeing you. I know you were there, you sang along with me.”

     My voice rang with clarity and I could not help the pride which filled my soul as I realized I had him flustered. “Why were you there?” I again badgered. “Tell me.”

     Once more his stormy eyes met mine, but they were clear of all thought or expression. For just a moment he gazed in my direction as though he could not see me, and then a fraction of a second later the sharpness returned and he shook his head slightly. I held my breath, unsure of what had just transpired, while he looked at me with a sly and somehow satisfied grin. There was something about my voice that had hypnotized him, if only for a moment.

     Then, with a sudden movement, he stepped back from me. I took a huge breath of air as if I had just come up from underwater. The wind whipped around us, tossing loose strands of my hair into my eyes. I watched Morven cautiously to see what he would do next.

     He was standing a few feet away from me gazing out over the ocean, his eyes slipping back and forth across the horizon as though he were searching for something. He turned back to me and I could see this was it. He was going to leave me now, at least for some time.

     “Until next time, Marina.” He nodded in my direction and whipped around, running straight toward the ocean.

     The speed with which he moved was faster than a human, but not so fast that I couldn’t see him. The water reached his knees and yet he still ran with power and grace. The waves crashed up against his waist and then with rapid athleticism he sprang into an arched dive over a wave and slipped into the water. A gray shimmer of light shone in the water for a brief moment and then disappeared in an instant.