Fins 4 Ur Sins (14 page)

“I have noticed odd things,” I
concede. “She recommended an asthma puffer for me. I already had one. Bethany
said she found it in her school bag.”

“Ah . . . that would’ve been from
me.” Lakyn nods at my open-mouthed expression. “I couldn’t be sure what would
happen, but I noticed you had trouble breathing. I put it in your friend’s bag,
hoping she’d give it to you. No one knew whether you would get a tail or not.
Dr.
Farrow and I were concerned about your lungs.”

“You’ve been in cahoots with her
all along?” I stare up at him. “You changed me into a mermaid? Something you
read about being a legend? What if I didn’t change or died? Plus, how did you
do it?”

“Here we go.” Ralph laughs.

“Right before you were about to
die from the fall, I breathed into you.” Lakyn leans one hand on the table. “I
breathed finfolk after the last beat of your heart, so your final breath would
be followed by a merman’s kiss.” His arms shake. “I was hoping it would work.
Legends state the method forces transformation, but it was . . .” He lifts his
hand and clenches it into a fist. “I pushed you up on the sand, safe, and then
went after the sirens, but they’d already fled. I was prepared for them, never
left home without weapons. But I couldn’t get up on land to see if you lived.”

A sharp pain rips across my
scales, and I grimace. “That’s where tourists found me.
On
the sand.”

“You’re in pain?” Lakyn crouches
and removes the towels. He smooths his hand over the tight, dry diamond matrix.
I suck in a breath at the caress of his hand, his gentleness, while pin-pricks
explode all over my skin. “There is something else I read in my uncle’s
library. I want you to try to get up and walk.”

“Are you crazy?” I frown. “That’s
asking me to fall flat on my face.”

“Trust me. I turned you, didn’t
I?” Lakyn looks to Ralph. “Can you grab a blanket?”

I sigh, shake my head and grasp
the edge of the table. I lower my tail fin onto the floor, holding most of my
weight on my arms. The table shakes. “It’s too heavy. I’m too heavy.”

“Put one foot forward as if you
were about to walk.”

I give him an incredulous look,
but shift one leg, almost as if to prove to him it won’t work. My tail is too
tight and holds me in, though my muscles press against the scaly matrix in an
obvious delineation. I huff out a breath and swipe at my hair.

“That’s right.” Lakyn’s hands
come under my arms to hold me upright. “You’re walking now.
A
human.
Remember.”

“Yes.” There’s a photograph
Bethany took of me in my favourite skirt. It’s black, short and showcases my
legs. I’m wearing my black Vans.
Walking through the shops.
A sudden shaft of pain shoots up the back of my right leg.
“
Ahh
, no.”
I collapse into Lakyn’s arms and he holds
me steady, his cheek nestling against mine.

“Got you.
And the next leg, Ellie. Walk.” The order rumbles in my ear.

I struggle to move, but push the
next foot forward. Bones shift within me in an ugly crack. Skin stretches across
my lower body and the pain has a scream bursting from my throat. I arch back.
The light bulbs’ glow blurs in my gaze. Gold is everywhere just like when the
siren had me. Hands reach and grip me from out of nowhere.

Skin lifts and then folds down
again. Clutching Lakyn’s arms, I cry out as bones push back into my toes. My
tail fin retracts through the folds of my feet. Tears flow down my cheeks.

“Let it happen, Ellie,” Lakyn
murmurs, his breath hot in my ear. “Let go, you can walk.
Another
foot in front of that one.
Do it now.”

I comply, and my cries turn into
an unending wail of agony. Heat flares in my body. Hatches lift open again,
tiny pores letting in cold air. There’s a popping sound, but it’s more than a
noise. It’s physical. My skin releases the hold my legs have on each other. My
knees buckle beneath me, but something braces my body. Lakyn, Ralph, Owen,
Patrick and Steven look down into my face. Someone wraps a blanket around my
waist and ties a knot at the side.

“She’s—”

The world fades to white.

≈≈≈

MY BODY
JERKS,
and I grimace at the
sharp stench in my nose.

“That’s it, Ellie. Come back to
us.” Ralph’s voice is gruff.

“I never would have believed it
if I hadn’t seen her change myself.” Owen’s figure is a blur to my right, but
his voice is low.
“Didn’t look too pleasant, either.
Poor girl.”

The sharp reek fills my nose
again, and I gag,
then
turn away. “Enough.” I blink,
but my vision is slow to clear. “What happened?”

“You fainted from the pain.”
Lakyn’s deep voice calms my shot nerves. “I can’t tell you how sorry I am about
that.”

Gentle hands lift me up into a
sitting position, and I discover I’m resting on a sofa in another room with a
blanket over my body. Ralph hands me a glass of water. I reach for it
gratefully and gulp the fluid, then wipe my mouth with the back of my hand.
Awareness fills me, and I shift my legs and point my toes.
“My
legs.
They’re back.” A sigh rushes out of my mouth. I hold down the
edges of the blanket and cast a wary eye around me, uncomfortable with the idea
of being half naked beneath the covering.

“You have some injuries. Now
you’re awake, I’ll take you up to the bathroom and get them fixed up.” The
other men exit the room, and Lakyn tucks the blanket in tightly around my
waist, gathers me close and then carries me up a flight of stairs. “You can get
changed there, too.”

The slow rocking motion gradually
brings me fully awake.
“Injuries?”

He sets me on the counter in the
bathroom, and in the bright overhead light, all is revealed. Dried blood mars
my ankle. I reach out to touch, and gasp, quickly drawing back my hand.

Lakyn gives me a hard look.
“Don’t touch it. I’ll fix you up.”

I bite my lip and shift the
blanket over my body, trying to hide any bare expanse of pale skin.

“Leave it.” Lakyn nears with a
cotton wad, wet with disinfectant. The heat of his body warms me. His scent
makes me want to reach out and slide my hands over his stomach. Bending over,
he dabs the cotton to the bloodied cuts. “They dragged you down the rocks.”

I nod, holding my breath against
the stinging.

A low growl escapes his chest.
“It looks like you fought every inch of the way.”

“I did.
Until I
couldn’t even move my arms.
I eventually kicked up like you showed me.”

He suddenly stops what he’s
doing, scrubs the back of his hand against his forehead and curses. “They won’t
ever get you, Ellie. You’ll get better at fighting them off. You nearly did it
all by yourself.”

“
Gregor
Bane didn’t kill those boys, did he? It was the sirens who took them. That
means everyone is still in danger.”

He leans down and gently blows on
my knee to dry the skin. Tingles shoot up my back and cascade down my spine in
a chaotic mess. My breathing turns erratic and I
melt
a little on the bench.

“You lost your fins because you
saved me,” I continue, trembling on the counter. His hair shines in the
overhead light, all creamy brown and blonde. “Why did you do that when you knew
you’d be punished by the council?”

He stares up at me, his blue eyes
luminescent. “I didn’t think about it. I was watching you. I heard your scream,
their song . . .” He wets another wad of cotton and gently cleans out more open
cuts on my ankle. “Next thing, I’m pulling you up.
Breathing
into you.”
He hesitates. “The only way I could make sure you lived was
to turn you into a mermaid. You would’ve died as a human. The impact of the
fall and the drowning killed you.”

26

I TREMBLE AND glance at Lakyn’s deft fingers as he smooths a
Band-Aid over a graze on my knee. I wait for the light press of his thumbs
without the barrier of a bandage between us. “Ralph said you lost everything.”

Lakyn grasps my calf to wipe an
antiseptic cotton ball over another cut.

His touch is everything I dreamed
it would be. I sigh, sink a little onto the bench and grip the edge of the
basin with shaking hands. Need burns within me, plus a sense of gratitude I
have no hope of ever expressing—but maybe he understands.

“Thank you for saving me.” My
voice echoes softly in the bathroom. “It’s the second time you’ve rescued me.”
I tilt my head so white curls curtain one side of my face, and I can meet his
searching gaze. “I’m grateful, but you lost your home in the process. That’s
just cruel.”

He bends over a little, never
taking his eyes from mine and then he blows on the cut to dry the antiseptic
again. I shiver as his warm breath washes over my skin. He smooths the last
Band-Aid over another stinging cut, pauses, and his eyes gleam like the deepest
rock pools.

“You know what I’ve heard humans
say?”

“No,” I croak. “What?” I try to
ignore the excitement skittering along my spine.

He
straightens,
his hands alongside mine. I yearn to pull him closer, but he grips the bench on
either side of my body and leans his face close enough to kiss. “Home is where
the heart is, Ellie.”

I stare into his luminescent
gaze, and will him to come closer, near enough for me to taste his perfectly
shaped lips. “What does that mean? Your heart is back there, under the sea, at
your home?”

He grins and looks down with a
shake of his head.
“Not exactly.
It’s right here with
me.
Obviously.”

I frown. “Then what—”

“Don’t worry about it. You have
things here I’ve never seen before. Technology has gone in a completely
different direction. I’ve always wanted to see what it was like on land. I’ve
been here less than a month and it’s an experience.”

“But not at the expense of your
home and your fins.”

“Don’t think that. I can see
guilt in your eyes, but it’s not your fault,” he continues in a whisper, as
though it’s a great conspiracy. “The sirens do what they’ve always done for
centuries. There are restrictions is place, but someone has relaxed them. For a
while, I thought it was my uncle. Now, I’m not so sure.” Lakyn’s brow furrows.
“That’s what worries me—not losing my fins from the perceived sin of going
against what underwater society says I shouldn’t have done, or being on land,
nor being here with you. The sirens worry me. They won’t stop if they’re not
forced.”

He brushes my fingers with his
hand, gathers me close, and my heart tells me I’m hugging the sun.
The one.
He gently lifts me from the bench and sets
me on the ground, tucking a stray lock behind my ear. “In fact . . .”

“Yes?” My knees threaten to
buckle again.

He sighs. “No matter what
punishment the council decided to give me, I refuse to be dictated to by
others’ opinions. Have you ever been told not to do something you knew was
right? So right you didn’t have to think about it?”

“Yes.” My feet look pale and
grey. Not good. “I wanted to go into the water at the butterfly breeders, but
you told me not to.”

He laughs.
“Still
angry over that?
You felt the call of the sea,” he says, his voice
rumbling in my hair. “I felt the call of my heart and soul. We are not so
different, Ellie. If losing my fins is a part of saving you, then I don’t care.
I’d rather you were alive. I stopped you from going into the sea not because
you’d change, but because others might see you and the longer you spend in the
water as a mermaid, the more you shift into that reality.”

I frown up at him and rub my eyes
tiredly.
“Meaning?”

“It’s harder to come home,” he mutters,
grasping my upper arms and then absentmindedly rubbing his fingers over my back
in swirly patterns. “I don’t want to bombard you. I’d also rather have weapons
on me when you go into the water.”

Air struggles in my throat, and I
smile. “You said you were watching me. Why?”

His face closes and he steps away
to wash his hands in the sink. “I can’t tell you that now.”

A heartbeat of
silence, then, “Why?
Why can’t you talk to me? I just need to know the
truth.”

He beautiful smirk lines his lips.
“You wouldn’t believe it. And there will be things I can’t answer yet. I put
the clothes in my bedroom across the hallway. I’ll be waiting downstairs.” He
turns to me with a carefully controlled expression, though his eyes are a deep,
dark blue. “Take your time.”

I swallow and nod.
“All right.”
A slow smile trembles over my lips. I’m unable
to keep up with his shifting expressions that hint at his mood, or the blocks
he throws up at questions he’d prefer not to answer.

He leaves silently.

I turn back to the sink with a
sigh, staring at my reflection in the mirror, not exactly sure of what I’m
seeing. Pale grey eyes, tangled white curls, a girl who should look washed out,
drawn and miserable.
A fish.
Instead, my cheeks are
rosebud pink, my grey irises glitter, and I see something else. In the whites
of my eyes, there’s an unrelenting steadiness.
Determination.
A strength I never knew I had inside me.

Yesterday, I was another person.
Today, I am someone else again. How to cope with the change?

I take a deep breath and blow it
out, then turn on the tap. I lean into the stream, cradling the cool water in
my hands and splashing it over my face. I scrub away the dirt and tears, then
dry my face on the towel. The blanket is still wrapped around my waist,
securely tucked in, and I have the top half of my nightie left to cover my
breasts.

I open the bathroom door and slip
across the hallway to the bedroom, then close the door behind me. A pile of
clothes sit on the corner of his bed. An overhead light shines upon the deep,
rich colours of the clothes.

The garment on top of the pile is
a lustrous coat of blue and purple. The thick cloth is wide enough to wrap
twice around my waist and smells enticingly of Lakyn—clean, crisp sea air,
sandalwood with a hint of lavender and icy sage. I slide my arms into the wide
sleeves, trying to figure out what the material is made of—not silk or satin,
but close.
Some kind of underwater material?
The
fabric feels smooth and soft beneath my fingers.

The pants are too long with gold
lace borders and blue and purple panels. I roll up the legs and take notice of
my surroundings.
Posters.
Giant posters of ocean life
plaster one wall and half of another.
Turtles, sharks,
dolphins, living corals—sunlight streaming through the water.

The sadness is so unexpected it
sears my chest, and I hold a hand over my heart. He’s been lying.

I step toward the shoal of fish
and briefly trace the outline of a clown fish. No matter what he says, he
misses home.
Because of me.
Because of the sirens.
He lost his tail and has to get
used to legs. A hollow ache expands in my solar plexus. The emptiness must be
damn near overwhelming. I haven’t been the same since Dad died. Lakyn’s lost
three members of his family, and I wonder whether anyone heals from that kind
of loss.

Then he lost his fins and his
home, because he was unable to prove the sirens were taking teenagers. I turn
back to the bed, my feet slipping over the threadbare rug. The bed consists of
a few concrete blocks, a wooden board and a foam mattress. No luxury to be
found, not like the clothes he gave me to wear, and by all accounts he is a . .
. prince.

Covers tangle on top of the bed
and a stack of photographs peek out from beneath a pillow. I recognise them as
mine and scoop up the pile, rifling through the snapshots. Scrawls line the
backs randomly, but my gaze stops on the picture of the pale shape in the bay
the day I went to the foreshore to check for clues.

I flip the picture over.

A siren hunts Eloise.

I shiver and slide the photos
back under the pillow, making sure they’re in the same order. I’m having bad
luck with photos. I always manage to pick out ones that disturb me the most.

Lakyn was exiled because he
didn’t have any proof and turning humans into mermaids was forbidden, resulting
in banishment. But maybe . . . I tap a finger against my lips and swivel,
studying the room . . . he has the right idea to film us swimming. I don’t
believe he’d want to use me as bait, but he’s trying everything he can to prove
to the underwater Council that he’s telling the truth. That’s why he’s keeping
my evidence.

I open the door and traipse down
the stairs, reaching the bottom. I shyly wave, “Hi” to both Ralph and Joey.

Ralph laughs and says, “Those
clothes remind me of the sea.” He relaxes in his seat, eyes shining. “Good
luck, girl. Don’t be a stranger. Come and visit us again.”

The easy camaraderie makes me
feel as though I should stay. They know a part of me many others will never
see. And I have a sneaking suspicion they’ll keep my secret to their grave. “I
will,” I promise.

Lakyn waits at the door, gazing
out at the turbulent sea. I touch his shoulder with my fingertip, and he turns
to me, a small smile on his face, though his eyes look troubled and darker than
usual.

“My clothes suit you—the
colours—I like it.”

I smile, rather self-consciously.
“They’re a bit too big.” I laugh up at him.

“You look beautiful. Are you
ready to go?”

“Yes.”

He slips his hand around mine and
my pulse jumps at the contact. He draws me outside to the cool night air and
wrenches open the door to the battered car. Before I get in, he grips both my
arms. “Let me know if you feel sick at all or notice anything strange. Those
cuts are serious and if they get worse, I need you to tell me. I can get you
into the hospital to see
Dr.
Farrow. She’ll get them
fixed without too many questions.”

I don’t know what to say to him,
my tongue is so tied up in knots. We climb in and he starts the car,
then
speeds out the gates. The trip back home is silent
until I reach out and turn on the radio.

Notes spill out into the car and
I lean back. “
Ahh
, this is one of my favourites.” I
look out the window at the houses high up on the hills, overlooking the water.
I sing along with the tune, the highs and lows, and as he turns to look at me,
I belt out the chorus with a huge grin. My heart lifts at the happiness in the
music.

“Eyes on the road,” I remind him.

He careens around a corner and
looks out through the windscreen. “I’ve never told you, but your voice is
amazing.
Incredible.
I haven’t heard you sing since .
. .”

I stop singing. “Yes?”

“Never mind.”
He coughs. “Do you get the ability from your mother or father?”

“My paternal
grandmother.”
I hesitate. “I saw the posters in your room. You miss your
home and—”

“Don’t be fooled. Missing home
doesn’t mean I shouldn’t be here. Everyone misses home sometime. It’s not a bad
thing.”

True.
“It’s more than that
this time though, admit it.”

“Concerned about me?” He slants
me a grin. “Don’t be. I’m older than you think and more capable than you
imagine.”

“You’re not my age?”

He shakes his head. “I look your
age—”

I laugh. “No, you don’t.”

His brow furrows. “Well, I’m
about five or six years older in finfolk years. I started my training the
moment I could swim. As a successor to the kingdom, I have to be familiar with
all the methods of defence.”

The day at the beach when he
stripped, I remember thinking he was older. I make a mental note to trust my
instincts more often.

“The council says I broke the
rules. They say it was wrong. I believe the real wrong would have been to do
nothing.” Silence falls, then he says, “Sing for me again, please.”

My startled glance catches his
wistful smile. “Why? My voice isn’t that good. I mean I love to sing, have
since I was a child, especially to make myself feel better.
But
not so much anymore.”

He pulls into the driveway to my
house, stops and switches off the lights. “Are you kidding?” His eyebrows rise
up near his hairline. “Your voice is . . . heavenly. I can’t believe you’d
think differently.”

I laugh. “Well, thank you.”

He grabs my hand across the seat,
smoothing his fingertips over my palm. “Take care. I’ll watch you go inside.”
He reaches to the back seat and hands me a thick rope. “When you get inside,
tie this rope around your waist or ankles, then to your bed. Two or three knots
will be harder than walking straight out the door. You’ll wake up.” He hands
over a packet of ear plugs and then says, “Lock your door as well. I won’t be
far away, and more than one of us will watch your house. Don’t be alarmed if
you see this car.”

I sit there, breathless, aware of
his body right next to mine in the dark. He shifts back in his seat and the
leather creaks. My blood fills with all sorts of strange energy—zings of
electricity and power—as though I’m meant to stay. His presence seems to reach
me in wavelengths, vibrating in time with my heart.

“Goodnight, Ellie,” he whispers.
The whites of his eyes are barely visible and his hands strain on the wheel.
“Your stunning tail is our secret.”

“Goodnight.” I smile and crack open
the car door, restraining my hair in the cool night breeze. The door catches
the latch quietly, and I traipse back to my house like an escapee returning to
my boring, old bedroom, wearing the most luxuriant clothes I’ve ever been in.