One Soul To Share

One Soul to Share

by Lori Devoti

Copyright 2011, Lori Devoti

Smashwords Edition

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment
only. All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce this
book, or any portion thereof, in any form. This ebook may not be
resold or uploaded for distribution to others.

This is a work of fiction. Any references to
historical events, real people, or real locales are used
fictitiously. Other names, characters, places and incidents are the
product of the author's imagination, and any resemblance to actual
events, locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely
coincidental.

If you notice any typos or formatting issues with
this book, the author would appreciate being notified.

Email her at
[email protected]

To all my fans who offer me support and just good old
fashioned chit chat at Facebook and around the web.

The bar was dirtier and darker than any dive
Nolan Moore had ever entered, even on a dare. Smoke clouded the
air, shrouding the bar’s patrons and decor, but Nolan could smell
the humans, each and every one, and hear them…hear the beat of each
of their hearts and the whoosh of every breath as it exited their
lungs.

His nostrils flared, and his hands fisted. He
didn’t want to know that the man on his right, drinking beer from a
chipped glass mug, had a heart valve that was close to failing. He
didn’t want to know that the woman that man was standing close to
had slept with someone other than the man, only hours earlier.

But, damn his vampire senses, he did.

The man with the damaged valve moved his hand
to the woman’s ass and whispered in her ear. She giggled and rubbed
against him.

Nolan, teeth grinding together, turned away
and stalked deeper into the stink, heat, and sound until he wanted
to spin in circles and growl and become the monster his family
already thought he’d become. His mother’s face flashed into his
mind, her relieved and welcoming smile twisting into distaste and
then horror as she realized he’d returned, not dead, but not alive
either. And his father —

“Stranger.”

The word jerked Nolan back to the
present.

A man standing behind the bar, a short,
grizzled type with weathered skin and battered features, laid a
revolver onto the wooden bar in front of Nolan. On the back of the
man’s hand was a tattoo of an eye—the evil eye. Nolan glanced at
it, unimpressed.

His fingers curling around the gun’s butt,
the bartender asked, “What or who are you looking for?”

Straight to business, which suited Nolan
fine. The sooner he was out of the stifling stench of the bar, the
better.

“I need a guide, one that knows the sea. I
heard this was the place to come.”

The bartender’s index finger twitched, less
than a flicker of movement, but the vampire didn’t miss the nervous
tic.

The man replied, “You’re feet from the docks.
Lots know the sea here. Some place in particular you’re looking to
find?”

“The hag.” Not a place, but a person… or
being. Nolan wasn’t sure what the sea hag was, and he didn’t care.
His only concern was that the stories were true and she had what he
needed.

The bartender’s fingers closed tighter around
the gun’s butt. “You have business with her?”

“I wouldn’t need a guide to find her if I
didn’t.” Nolan leaned closer, meeting the man’s gaze.

The wall behind the bar was covered with
objects Nolan recognized as attempts to ward off evil. But
considering they’d done nothing to stop him from entering the
place, the effort was wasted.

“There’s… someone who might help.” The man
raised one bushy brow and slid his hand forward.

Nolan dropped two bills onto the man’s palm
and waited.

The bartender slid his fingers over the
bills, apparently checking their validity, then slipped them into
his pocket.

“Talk to the mermaid. She’s been coming in
for months. Rumor has it she’s planning a visit to the hag herself
and looking for a companion.”

“Mermaid? How did she come by that name?”
Nolan needed a guide, one tough enough to weather whatever journey
lay before him. He didn’t need a female looking for help of her
own.

“Not a name. It’s her… breed.”

“Breed?” Surely the bartender didn’t believe
whoever this female was that she was truly a mermaid. Mermaids were
myths like dragons and Pegasus and—Nolan flicked his tongue over
one canine—vampires. He growled. “Where can I find her?”

“She was in the back earlier. Sitting alone.
Can’t miss her.” The bartender straightened his arms, ready to push
himself away from the bar, but then apparently thought better of
it. He reached out and grabbed Nolan by the arm. His fingers
digging into Nolan’s bicep, he whispered, “You ain’t the first one
what went with her. She takes ’em to the docks, and they never come
back.”

Nolan stared down at the man’s fingers. The
bartender loosened his hold and stepped back as if burned, but
Nolan wasn’t done with him. He leaned over the bar. “She’s taken
others to the hag?” He hadn’t heard of anyone successfully making
it to wherever the sea hag called home, or if they had, they’d
never returned to share their stories.

The bartender shook his head, his eyes wide
now and worried. “Don’t think so. They weren’t gone that long.
She’s like the rest of her kind but with legs. She lures men out to
the water and pulls them under. From there…” His voice dropped.
“There’s no coming back.”

o0o

Sarina Neri crossed her legs at the ankle and
stared toward the front of the bar. Someone new had entered,
someone different from the worn-out men who usually stumbled into
the place. Maybe, finally, her search was over. Maybe, finally, she
would find a man capable of passing the sea hag’s tests.

He was talking with the bartender and, Sarina
could tell, hearing tales of her dangers. The superstitious man’s
gossip didn’t worry her.

No man could resist the lure of a nixie if
she turned her attention his way.

After taking a drink of her beer, she
uncrossed her ankles and placed her bare feet onto the filthy bar
floor. She was preparing to stand, to search out this new man, when
she saw him crossing the room toward her.

She smiled. This one was coming to her.

As he approached, she studied him, looking
for some sign that he was different from the others. She’d tried
eight so far, each younger and, from outward appearance, stronger
than the last, but none had survived her test. None had lasted the
quarter of an hour Sarina considered the minimum she would need to
trick the sea hag into thinking she had brought the old goddess
what she demanded—a man who could live out his life beside the hag
under the sea.

This man was tall, with broad shoulders that
tapered to an athletic waist. Trim and fit—neither signs he
possessed the talent Sarina needed. He was handsome too, with
rugged features and a cleft in his chin. The hag, like all sea
beings, appreciated beauty. So, his looks were a plus, but neither
that nor the confident way he prowled forward were enough.

He had to be able to stay alive in the sea
hag’s home long enough for Sarina to swim away with the soul.

As he moved closer, Sarina spun in her seat
to face him. “Are you looking for me?”

He paused, surprise registering on his face.
Like the others, he’d probably taken her soft features and feminine
form as some sign she would be submissive, an easy target for
whatever caused him to search her out.

But mermaids, nixies, none of their kind,
were submissive or easy targets.

She stood, sweeping her waist-length hair
behind her. The long shirt she’d taken from her last failed
candidate fell open over one bare shoulder, and the dungarees she’d
belted at her waist slipped. Annoyed with the human clothing, she
undid the belt with one hand and let the pants fall to the
ground.

Stepping out of them, she moved forward.

She trailed her fingers over the newcomer’s
chest as she walked around him, appraising. “What did the bartender
tell you?” This man was the first to come to her. The others she
had searched out. They had come willingly enough, of course, but
they hadn’t walked into the bar looking for her, as she suspected
this male had.

“I need a guide,” he murmured.

His chest and back were layered with muscle.
She paused for a second to lay her palm flat over his heart. Its
beat was slow, slower than any she had felt before. Her brows
pulled forward, and, confused, she took a step back to study him
again.

He was not a merman come to land, or a
selkie. Her fortune couldn’t be that great. Or poor—another
creature like herself would be harder to fool, harder to mesmerize
into thinking he was in love with her, and harder to convince to
accompany her on her journey to see the sea hag.

“What type of guide?” she asked, for the
moment making no effort to charm him in any way. She wanted to hear
the answer he intended to give, not one put into his mind by a
spell.

“I have business at sea.” He paused, and she
sighed. Nothing special after all.

“With the sea hag,” he added.

Sarina’s body stiffened, and she stepped
back, studying him again. “You know Melusine?”

“My business is just that…business. I have no
prior connection with the hag…
Melusine
.”

Sarina tilted her head. Ordinary humans
didn’t know of Melusine, or if they did, thought her nothing but
legend. But this man before her wasn’t selkie or merman, so what
could he be? What was his story?

She inhaled, checking for the scent of the
sea.

Sadly, or luckily, she wasn’t sure which yet,
he smelled no more of the ocean than any of the unbathed seafarers
seated at the tables nearby. He didn’t, however, smell entirely
human either. There was something different about him, but Sarina
couldn’t peg what it was.

“As it happens, I’m in need of a companion
myself,” she replied, keeping her tone neutral.

He smiled, confident, like a man used to
getting his way. “So I heard. That is, then, fortunate for us both,
isn’t it?”

Perhaps. Sarina still didn’t trust that her
luck had finally changed. “Can you swim?” she asked. All said they
could, but none really knew what they might expect to encounter in
a journey to Melusine’s home.

Like the others, he nodded his head in
assent.

Tired of speculating as to whether her search
was finally over, she walked past him and strode to the door.

o0o

The mermaid, as the bartender had called her,
said nothing to Nolan as she passed in nothing but the thigh-length
shirt. She simply walked toward the door, showing not the tiniest
amount of doubt that he would follow.

And he would. In fact, he was surprised every
man in the place didn’t rise to his feet and rush after her.

Maybe one hundred and twenty pounds and under
five feet eight inches in height, she was slim and athletic but
also exuded femininity.

He had never encountered another woman, or
creature, like her.

As he turned, his foot caught in the pants
she had dropped so casually to the floor. He stared down at them,
wondering if he should scoop them up and carry them along.

From the front, the bartender’s gaze met his.
Even through the hazy air, Nolan could read the man’s face. He
thought Nolan a fool, or worse, a
soon-to-be-dead
fool.

Little did he know, Nolan was already the
walking dead.

With a grimace, he left the pants and
followed the “mermaid.”

o0o

Sarina stood on the damp dock, waiting for
the human. The wind had picked up, catching her hair and wrapping
it around her. She could smell the water behind her. Her body
itched to leap into the bay that led to the ocean. Her toes
wiggled, already preparing to shift to the fin she still found so
much more natural.

As the man approached, her hand wrapped
around the tiny vial hanging from her neck. Feeling its pulsing
warmth against her palm calmed her, assured her that what she was
about to do was necessary.

Having a soul had saved her, but at times
like this, it cost her too.

“Now what?” The man arched one brow and
stared out over the water.

She moved toward him with all the power and
grace of her kind. Humming, she grabbed fistfuls of his shirt and
rose up on her toes. “You said you can swim, right?” She sang the
words with no tune in mind. The notes didn’t matter; any that left
her throat, any mermaid’s throat, would be enough to lure a human
into her bidding.

He stared down at her, his gaze hooded. “I
did.”

“Then now”—she brushed her lips over his and
took a teasing step back—“is the time to prove it.”