Scales and Legends

by B. Kristin McMichael

  “Welcome,” the same soft voice said directly across the table from her.

  The petite blonde was sitting in a chair where her feet didn’t quite reach the ground. Behind her stood a rather nerdy-looking guy with short black hair and glasses, and a rocker guy with long curly hair. Rocker guy looked the scariest as he stood with his arms crossed, showing off impressive biceps and an even more impressive glare. It was better to look at the girl. She, at least, seemed welcoming.

  “I am Arianna Grace, the leader of the night human council. Devin told me it was urgent we speak to you, but gave us nothing more than that. He said you would explain why you needed to see us.”

  Whitney licked her lips. It was now or never. Change was either coming, or she wouldn’t be around to have to worry about it. All she wished was one last chance to talk to Sam. If she made it out of this meeting still alive, she was going to never miss connecting with him again.

  Arianna, the council leader, smiled as Turner walked around the table to stand behind her with the other two men. Whitney focused on his face for a moment as the only friendly face in the room. Turner didn’t do a stare down like the other two, but Whitney was sure she needed to speak to Arianna. She didn’t look at the other four people, two sitting on either side of the blonde girl. She had a very good feeling it all came down to the girl in front of her, the leader of the night humans, the girl that couldn’t be much older than herself. Taking one last deep breath and tucking her nerves away, she knew what she needed to do.

  “My name is Whitney Mallory. I used to be a skinwalker, but almost two years ago a witch used me in a spell, and it took away my night human half.” There were a couple gasps, but Whitney kept her eyes on the girl. She didn’t smile, but didn’t frown either. So far, so good. “A couple months ago while I was taking swimming lessons, I almost drowned. To save my life my swim teacher gave me some of his night human blood.”

  The older gray-haired lady that had gasped at the mention of losing one’s night human was now nodding like it was a logical thing to do.

  “My swim instructor didn’t know that his blood could turn someone into a night human,” Whitney continued, and before the older lady who seemed to like interjecting could make a comment, she spoke again. “For his type of night human, no one had ever been made into one. Using their blood to save a day human was forbidden. To his surprise and mine, I became a night human again.”

  “Do you wish to press charges and bring this night human to justice?” the older lady asked.

  “No. I came here today to get my new night human clan pardoned.”

  Whitney finally looked around the room. There was the old lady who wore an expression of confusion. Next to her was an older man, who was younger than the lady, but at least a couple decades older than Whitney. On the other side was a large man that barely fit in his chair. He reminded Whitney of how large Turner’s father was. Next to him was a tan-skinned young man that could only be in his twenties. It was a diverse group, and she had no way to gauge what they thought of her asking for a pardon.

  “Pardoned?” the large man asked in a booming voice that fit perfectly with his outward appearance.

  “She was turned into a forbidden night human,” Arianna clarified, as if she already knew that Whitney was a siren. Maybe she had come across one before.

  Now the animated older lady had an expression of horror on her face.

  “A forbidden night human?” she squeaked out.

  “I was turned into a mer, specifically a siren.”

  Immediately, fear laced the faces of the people sitting around the blond-haired girl. Even her two bodyguards, aside from Turner, seemed a little apprehensive.

  “I’m here on behalf of the siren. Almost all the siren alive, and mer for that matter, were not alive during the night human wars. They had nothing to do with what happened. On top of that, the siren king forbade his subjects to go on land and kill day humans. They behave just like the rest of the night human world, yet they live in fear each day of being discovered and hunted down for being just what they are. I didn’t chose to become a siren, and the guy who made me never intended for it to happen, but now I find myself as part of this persecuted group. That’s why I’m here now to ask for a pardon for the siren, and for them to be allowed to live their lives out in the open just like any other night human.”

  Looks of shock remained on their faces, though no one replied. Finally, the older lady turned to the blond-haired girl.

  “Is what she said even possible? Can you really lose your night human?”

  Arianna nodded to her. “Devin examined everything after it happened, and yes, her skinwalker night human was taken from her. The process can kill you, but someone saved her and sacrificed themselves instead.”

  That was news to Whitney. While Cassie seemed to have a relationship with Devin, Whitney had yet to ever meet the guy.

  The lady was finally at a loss for words.

  “Can she prove to us that she’s really a siren?” the younger brown-skinned man questioned from the other side.

  Whitney didn’t hesitate and transformed into her siren form. She had been without water long enough now to be a little itchy, but it didn’t hurt to change … yet. The young man who asked stood up and walked around the table like she was mesmerizing to him. She hadn’t spoken, so she knew she wasn’t accidentally using her vocal night human power.

  “May I?” He reached to touch the lines on her arms.

  “Look, she’s already put Loan in a trance. Siren can’t be trusted. I might not have been around for the last wars, but I know that much,” the gray-haired man beside the old lady added.

  The man called Loan stopped reaching for her and glared at the old man. “I’m not caught in her spell. Do you know nothing about the forbidden night humans? Siren need to sing to do that. I just wanted to see if the legends are true. My people tell stories about the merfolk, and sorry if you have a preconceived notion as to how they are, but I have some idea as well.”

  Whitney looked up at him. He was much stronger than he seemed to be as he came near her. She could feel the power behind him pulsating off of him, but he didn’t try to touch her again. This was someone she was going to need to speak more to. If he knew stories of the mer, then maybe he knew how to defeat the other clans.

  “Do you having anything more to add?” Arianna asked Whitney.

  She shook her head. There was nothing more to plead. She had explained how she came to be and asked what she needed to ask.

  “What about using your blood?” the giant of a man next to Arianna questioned. “Maybe she’s only a siren temporarily. One drop of your blood and she might go back to being what she was before. Then we don’t need to decide on this.”

  Whitney turned to Arianna in confusion. She had no clue what it meant that he would suggest she take the blood of the girl who was certainly in charge of the group.

  Arianna shrugged. “My blood has been used to find out what true night human someone should be. By drinking my blood, your true night human form will emerge.” The blonde wasn’t too concerned, but since the hulking guy next to her seemed to think it was necessary, Whitney had to consider it. It was a council, after all, and not simply whatever Arianna decided.

  “Will it change me back into a skinwalker?” Whitney hadn’t considered the possibility. Once her cougar was gone, she had grieved and moved on. Now she wasn’t sure she wanted her cat back. Where would that leave her with Sam?

  “It might. What we have found is most people actually end up with a mixture of traits. One of my friends was a dearg-dul that grew wings because there was tengu in his blood. Things like that. I’ve never seen it change anyone to one form if they were another.”

  That was at least a little consoling. Whitney wasn’t sure she could just leave the mer world behind, or Sam for that matter. It was growing harder each day to not be around him, and there was a great possibility she was never going back to him. But the expressions on the faces of the
council told her they weren’t about to give her a favorable verdict without trying the blood. It made sense. If she wasn’t a siren any longer then they didn’t have to debate the pardon Whitney asked for.

  The longer, dark-haired bodyguard walked around the table and handed a thin tube to Whitney. She looked at it and knew what it was. She could see the faint red color through the semi-opaque sides.

  “So I just swallow this and magic will happen?” Whitney glanced up at the guy handing it to her.

  “Something like that,” he replied, his voice much kinder than she expected.

  Without thinking further, Whitney tossed the vial into her mouth and crunched down, releasing the sweet drop of blood into her mouth. She swallowed it and sat, waiting to feel something. Nothing felt different. Faces stared back at her. They seemed to be expecting a change, also. Time seemed to take forever while everyone stared at her.

  “Umm.” Whitney had no clue what it meant.

  “Try transforming,” Arianna suggested.

  Whitney changed and watched as her pink tail now glowed in the dim light of the room.

  That was new, but the tail wasn’t. She was still a siren and still outlawed. She could hear the disappointment from some of the council, but she refused to look at them. She wasn’t trying to make their lives hard, but it was true. The siren were not the bad guys. Not anymore. They didn’t even kill humans now. And she was pretty certain several of the legal night humans still killed humans, but the council didn’t prosecute them.

  The young man that had tried to touch her before stood up.

  “I’ll take her outside of the room for your discussion,” he told the group, waving to the bodyguard that was now moving forward to stop him. The long-haired guy raised an eyebrow at the council member, and then ignored him as he followed right behind Whitney.

  “We have a waiting room right next door,” the darker-skinned man told her as he offered her his arm like a gentleman.

  “Don’t you need to stay here to discuss it?” Whitney asked, not sure why he was walking her out of the room.

  “Nah. Arianna already has my opinion on the matter.” He opened a side door and held it for Whitney to walk through first. For being young, he had impeccable manners.

  “But no one said a thing.” The room had been mostly silent, except for the older lady. Whitney had a feeling that they were all ready to say no, but there was no talking going on at all. How could Arianna know what the man thought?

  “That’s the best, and probably the worst, part of working with a legend like Arianna. She can read minds, so basically any thought I have she knows. Good and bad.”

  He winked at her as the long-haired guy followed and locked the door behind them. Whitney wasn’t sure if he was locking them out of the meeting room or in the waiting room. Either way, it was ominous.

  Whitney sat, but not patiently. It seemed like the room beyond the door was silent, even though she knew they were debating about what to do. Either the room they were in was soundproof, or they were all talking in their heads.

  “I’m Loan, by the way,” the councilman who escorted her out introduced himself. “And that brute is Andrew. He’s Ari’s mate. So please excuse his behavior.”

  That explained the brooding looks when she said she was a siren. She was finding maybe all mates had the same overprotectiveness that Sam had. Andrew didn’t respond, though; he just analyzed Whitney as she sat beside Loan.

  “Don’t mind him. He’s the silent type,” Loan kidded, but she had a feeling it was more correct than not.

  “Do you think they will let the siren have a pardon?” Whitney voiced what she was really worried about. If they didn’t, then it was likely she would be kept as prisoner, if not immediately executed. She would never have a chance to tell Sam that she loved him one last time.

  She blew her hair out of her face as she thought of the crap she was stepping in just to save a bunch of people that she wasn’t even technically a part of. She was still an outsider with her pink tail, and now the excessive glow made it worse. How was she ever going to hide in the water with a tail like that? Suddenly, she noticed the strand of hair that kept escaping into her face was bright blond, maybe even lighter than it had been before she dyed it.

  “Really?” Whitney couldn’t help but complain. “When she said the blood would make me into my true self, I didn’t think hair color mattered that much. Man, I was just getting used to being a brunette and haven’t had to deal with even one blond joke since I returned to land. Great. Now if they decide to let me go, I might die from hearing too many blond jokes.”

  Loan laughed, and even the brooding Andrew smiled.

  “So, what’s it like?” Loan asked. “I’ve heard stories, but they never compare to someone living it.”

  “Being a blond?” Whitney teased. That just made Loan smile more.

  “Being a mer.”

  Whitney shrugged. How was the best way to describe being a mer? Obviously, Loan was a night human, but he wasn’t a mer.

  “When I first turned, I thought I was going to be a fish. The skinwalkers all turn into an animal on the full moon, so I thought it was like that. I was worried I would be tiny and go down the shower drain, or get stuck. Being only part fish is a bit strange. And water. That’s weirder. I never knew water could sing.”

  Loan’s eyes lit up as she spoke.

  “You spoke of legends about the mer. How do you know about them?” she asked.

  Loan grinned, showing off perfect dimples in his caramel-colored cheeks. “My great grandmother was the one who raised me. She used to tell us tales of all the old night humans that were around before the night human war. She had some pretty cool ones about merfolk. She could describe all these different kinds. Some had red hair, others green or orange. And their tails ranged from deep blue like the sea to bright yellow like the sun. Some looked like animals in the sea, with spots on their tails or a thin layer or fur. She described the mer as a rainbow species that came in every color, shape, and size, but the prize was the pink-finned mer that only came around once every two hundred years. She used to claim if you could touch the marks on a pink-finned merfolk, you would have good luck for the following year.”

  Loan’s cheeks reddened at his last admission. Whitney grinned at his embarrassment. She doubted she brought good luck to anyone, but she wasn’t about to spoil that for him. His love for the mer was more than evident, and if the council decided against her, she knew she’d found an ally in Loan. He’d make sure she at least didn’t suffer.

  As she sat next to him, she transformed. Her sudden tail caught his eye as he was looking at the floor, and he appeared stunned to see her as a siren again.

  “Go ahead and get your good luck,” she told him, holding out an arm that had a purple swirl going down to her wrist.

  “I shouldn’t,” Loan said, holding himself back.

  “Well, if it brings luck, then go ahead and have it. I haven’t had any since I’ve been turned into this. It’s been just one thing after another. Heck, here I am trying to save the siren, and if they get a pardon, by the time I get back they might not even exist anymore.”

  Loan reached forward and gently touched the purple swirl. It almost seemed like it moved to be closer to his hand before it pulled back up her arm. She didn’t comment on how strange that was, but she had a feeling things might be slightly different because of the blood she drank. Heck, her hair was instantly returned to blond. If her real self was supposed to be a blond-haired, pink-tailed mer, then the blood worked perfectly. Even if she had no clue what it meant.

  “Would you mind if I took a drop of your blood?” Andrew asked. Again, his soft musical voice wasn’t expected. “We’ve been trying to collect blood from every night human out there.”

  Whitney shrugged. What difference did it make now? It wasn’t like she didn’t just spill the secret of the merworld to the whole night human council.

  “At least something good can come from me being here,” she
added, holding out her arm to him.

  “I just need a finger prick,” he explained as he came closer without her seeing him actually move. Without a warning, her finger was pricked, and he was sitting back down.

  “He’s a baku,” Loan explained. “A night demon that feeds on emotions and dreams. You don’t hear him coming or leaving. Silent stalker, but ugly as sin when he transforms.”

  “Then I must be fueling him well,” Whitney replied, finally tucking that lose strand of hair behind her ear. “I think in the past fifteen minutes I’ve felt every emotion out there.”

  This time Andrew didn’t smile, but chuckled. Whitney wasn’t sure it was funny, but because he was laughing it probably meant he did feel it.

  “They’re almost ready for us,” Andrew informed Loan and Whitney.

  Taking a deep breath, Whitney nodded. In five minutes they had decided her fate. It couldn’t be good as she saw how they all looked when she told them she was a siren.

  Loan offered her his arm to help her stand and walk back into the room.

  “No matter the outcome, let me just say you are the bravest night human I’ve ever met. If you didn’t already have a mate, I’d have asked you out.”

  Now it was Whitney’s turn to blush. That just made Loan smile more. She couldn’t deny that if she didn’t have Sam, she would’ve easily said yes to that. He was different than all the guys she had ever known. What teenage guy opened doors and offered a girl an arm to help her stand? It was a bit old-fashioned, but intriguing.

  The door to the room creaked open, and Whitney’s heart picked up its beat. She wasn’t sure she was going to survive this ordeal as the suspense alone was going to give her a heart attack. She very well might be only moments away from dying, and getting her legs to move on command was going to be hard. As she pondered her life ending, there was only one thought that kept jumping into her mind. She kept the image of Sam’s face in her mind, his chocolate brown eyes and perfect smile. Every little detail down to the wrinkles around the corners of his eyes, to the faint mole he had on his left cheek. If she was going down, she would do it with him beside her in her mind. She really regretted not telling him about it all, and with the bond, if she died, he would die, too.