by ReGi McClain
“It didn’t work on you.” He pushed his fingers up under her hair along the back of her neck, lacing them through the strands and letting the hair flow through.
The gentle lift and fall of her hair eased tension out of her neck and shoulders. Pleasant tingles danced along her nerves wherever his rough callouses caressed her skin, twirling on weightless toes down her arms and out to her fingertips, where they begged to return the touch. It needed to stop. Now.
She whirled and licked Zeeb’s forehead, well away from his mouth and nose. His eyes flew open. “What the ”
Harsha turned back to her puzzle book. “Get some rest.”
Sitting in the dark on Seraph’s berth with her tablet as her primary source of light and her blanket draped over her legs to combat the chill flowing in from the porthole, Harsha listened to the steady thrum of the boat’s engines and the soft ebb and flow of Zeeb’s breath. Her stomach rumbled. She shifted to hush it.
Zeeb started snoring, a raucous, impressive noise similar to an unhappy engine trying to warm up in subzero weather, deserving of Seraph’s warning all those months ago. Harsha unfolded one crisscrossed leg and stretched it across the space between them to nudge him with her toe. He snorted, rolled, and settled back into a quiet breathing rhythm.
Seraph poked her head through the door and whispered, “Is it safe yet?”
“I don’t think he’s going to throw up anymore, if that’s what you mean,” Harsha whispered back.
“Oh, thank God.” Seraph stepped through the door and offered Harsha a cup of tea.
Maura followed, sobbing. She climbed into the berth over the one currently occupied by Zeeb.
Harsha stood to tuck her in. “Maura, what’s wrong?”
Maura clasped Harsha’s hand but said nothing.
“It was a hard day for her. We stayed in the dining area, where she wouldn’t see the water, and the cook and a couple of crewmen tried to cheer her up. There’s a young man who likes her, I think. The captain’s nephew. He was very nice to her, but she wanted to be close to you or Zeeb, but I didn’t want her to get sick, too.”
Harsha kissed Maura’s forehead. “It’s okay. I’m right here.”
Seraph sat on her berth and rubbed her hands over her face. “I’m sorry for leaving you to deal with it. I was afraid I’d throw up, too. Trust me. No one wants a dragon throwing up.”
Harsha agreed. Very much. So, so very much. “Yes. Let’s not let that happen. I hope the smell is dissipated.”
Seraph shrugged and jiggled a hand, palm down, fingers splayed. “How can you stand it?”
“How can you stand the sore muscle balm? Zeeb’s tent is a smaller space than this.”
“Yeah, but the muscle balm smells like normal, everyday stuff, just lots of it. Vomit is not normal.” She swallowed hard. “Anyway, do you want to take a break to eat?”
Harsha gave Maura’s hand a gentle tug. Maura’s grip tightened. “I think I better wait until Maura is asleep. The tea is fine.”
She sipped and waited for Maura to drift off before leaving her companions. After so many hours without eating, her legs felt like jelly and her arms weighed down her upper body like lead, pulling her into a slouch. Bad posture had been one of her mother’s tells all those years ago, when Mother was starting to lose her own battle with the illness while still trying to help Ami win hers. Knowing she now stood with the same hunch made Harsha feel hopeless. She should go home, give up. Die like she was dying, as Jason put it. She could almost accept it, now. Almost.
She sighed, dismissed her morbid thoughts, and shuffled toward her walker, letting her feet drag. Seraph watched her and offered help. Harsha waved her off. She wanted to cling to the illusion of independence as long as possible, even though she knew it was illusion. She found the cook waiting for her with a massive fish sandwich. She thanked him and he helped her take her meal up to the deck, where she sank into a chair with relief.
The cool breeze washed over her. She sucked in deep breaths of the fresh air to cleanse the smell of vomit lingering in her nostrils. With her eyes closed, she concentrated on the gentle rocking of the sea and the soft lap of the water, letting them coax the burdensome memories of long hours spent tending sick loved ones back to their place of hibernation until she needed to return to Zeeb.
When she felt better, she ate her sandwich. Slowly but surely, she felt the much needed nourishment make its way through her bloodstream to her limbs, restoring most of her strength. Revived, she walked along the deck, using the handrail for support, until she came to Kaito’s workstation.
“A little late to be working, isn’t it?”
“Oh, hey, Boss. Yeah, I guess so. I’ll shut it down soon.”
With her friends resting below and the crew finishing their day’s work, it seemed like a good time to start getting to know Kaito. Hoping to find a segue for explaining their real reason for the trip, she struck up a conversation. “What about this sub of yours? Think it will survive the extremes?”
“Absolutely. It’s beyond state of the art. If I’m right, the hull will hold in the most extreme environments, allowing us to explore the deepest trenches in the sea. They’re harder to explore than space. Imagine what I could do with a fleet of them. The discoveries I could make! I started building it from spare parts in my parents’ basement when I was twelve. I can’t understand why nobody funded me before now.”
Spare parts? Parents’ basement? Seraph had obviously missed a crucial detail when she planned the trip. “So, um, what’s it made of?”
“It’s a silicon alloy I patented.” He went off on another lecture, the gist of it being that he’d made the sub of decent materials and the one he’d built in his parents’ garage was merely the prototype.
She let him prattle on until she found a useful topic to latch onto. “And this is the remote center?” She pointed to the heavy-duty computer unit. “How does it work?”
Kaito jumped in with a new lecture. This time, she paid close attention. The sub needed a driver, but a small detachable camera built on the same principles worked by remote. Noting the possible opportunity, Harsha asked him to show her how to work the controls of the camera. He agreed.
She sat in the seat he used to view the screen. Standing to one side of her, he placed his hand over hers and helped her guide the miniature camera sub. They stayed close to the surface where there was plenty of room to learn the nuances of the steering system without banging into anything. Except a tiger shark that came out of nowhere. Harsha shouted an apology to it as the disgruntled beast swam away, which earned her a doubtful look from Kaito and a reminder that the camera was well away from the boat. Harsha ignored him and kept practicing.
Seraph joined them. “Maura seems okay, but I think I’m going to sleep on deck tonight. Do you mind?”
Harsha glanced at her friend. “Yeah, it’s fine. I think Zeeb’ll sleep. Come try this. It’s fun.” She pulled herself out of the seat to give Seraph access to the controls.
“It’s loads of fun.” Kaito stepped behind Seraph. Rather than standing to one side of her, he wrapped his arms around her. “You put your fingers on this toggle, here.” Whatever he said next, he whispered.
Seraph shoved him away. “No thanks. Good night, Harsha.” She walked off, circling the control room to the other side of the deck.
Kaito looked disappointed.
“What did you say to her?”
He brightened. “I offered to teach her how to toggle ”
“Never mind.”
“If at first you don’t succeed, try, try again.” He turned back to the workstation and started to shut it down.
Harsha considered warning him, but decided it would be more fun to watch Seraph deal with it.
Multiple rejections failed to convince Kaito to give up his pursuit of the “burning hot babe.” Seraph took to saying, “No,” if he made eye contact and opened his mouth. After an effort to discourage Kaito, Harsha ignored the comical interplay to fret about a drama s
he saw brewing.
The captain’s nephew, a boy in his late teens with a trendy haircut and work-sculpted muscles he liked to show off, indeed showed interest in Maura, as Seraph had mentioned. So much interest, Harsha wanted to sic wolf-Zeeb on him. After a long morning of trying to get Zeeb to hold down water, she shuffled to the dining hall to get a snack for herself. She walked through the door in time to see Emilio nip Maura’s ear.
“Excuse you.”
Emilio bolted to the other side of the room. One second his thigh was touching Maura’s, the next he leaned against the wall farthest from her, looking casual.
Harsha put on the meanest-looking of her practiced scowls. “What do you think you’re doing?”
“Me?” The boy pointed to himself and widened his eyes. The bright red blush creeping onto his olive cheeks belied the innocent expression. “Nothing, Ms. Mooreland.” He spoke with a thick Italian accent.
Maura gave him a quizzical look. “Not nothing. You ”
“Need to get back to work. Ciao.” He disappeared.
Maura looked distressed. “I don’t understand.”
Harsha took a deep breath and softened her expression. Harsha knew nothing about selkie maturation or how romance worked for them. “Me neither. We’ll ask Zeeb later. In the meantime, please don’t let Emilio bite you. Or sit so close. Or put his hands on you. In fact, try not to be alone with him at all.”
Maura nodded and turned on her tablet. Satisfied for the present, Harsha got a sandwich from the cook and scarfed it before returning to her cabin.
Zeeb sat on the berth, hands braced on the edge. He looked like he intended to stand up.
“Unless you’re on the way to the bathroom, get back in bed.”
He scowled and eased himself back down. “Are you aware how bossy you are?”
“Sick people can get cantankerous. I find it helps to establish dominance.” She propped his head up on a pillow and held up an ice cube. “Here. Let’s try it your way. If you hold down this cupful of ice, I’ll leave you alone for the rest of the day.” She held the ice cube to his lips.
His scowl deepened. He took the ice cube from her and chomped into it. The sound of the crunch set Harsha’s teeth on edge. “Please don’t.”
Zeeb took another cube from the cup and chomped it, too.
She cringed. Recognizing the petulance that resulted when an active person felt cooped up, she decided to ask her question about Maura to distract him. “I caught the captain’s nephew biting Maura’s ear.”
Zeeb chuckled. “He’s going to be disappointed.”
“You’re not worried?”
“She’ll interpret it as an invitation to play. We can breathe easy where romance is concerned for another year or two.”
Harsha doubted that. She knew firsthand about innocent situations spiraling into compromising positions. What if Maura took Emilio up on his offer to play and ended up not playing? She resolved to talk with Maura. If nothing else, the girl needed to know how sexuality worked for humans.
With little to do on the boat but wait, time slowed down. Despite the overabundance of rest, Harsha found her energy crawling to a standstill before sunset most days. Purple bruises dotted her arms and legs. Although she retained full mobility and managed to care for Zeeb, she suspected only the battery of medications and supplements Dr. Brown and the Lowells prescribed kept her on her feet. Her doctors kept working toward a treatment, but neither she nor they entertained much hope if this trip failed.
As Zeeb recovered, she increased the time she spent helping Kaito monitor the camera, searching for evidence of merfolk. She wasn’t sure what to look for, but she kept her eyes open. With Kaito clueless, she despaired of finding useful information, but chickened out whenever he asked about her interests in his project.
One discouraging afternoon, while she stared at the umpteenth unhelpful chubby flashlight fish, a hand squeezed her shoulder. Expecting to see Seraph, she bounced in surprise when she saw Zeeb.
“Augh!” Kaito squealed. “What are you doing? You can’t go around jerking the camera all over the place.” Muttering curses strung together with scientific words, he took the controls.
Rolling her eyes at his tirade, she left him to amble along the deck with Zeeb. “So, you’re alive?”
“Barely.” He offered a wan smile. His face looked thin and pale. He walked on unsteady legs, grasping the handrail with white knuckles.
“I’m sorry for talking you into coming.”
He waved off the comment. “I’m not as bad as I look.” He paused mid-stride to take several deep breaths, his face contorting. When his features relaxed, he resumed walking. “How bad do I look?”
“Ghastly.”
“Oh, good. I only feel horrible.”
He wavered. She slipped an arm around his waist and cupped his elbow with her hand, a habitual action practiced many times in caring for her family members. She lacked the strength to support him, of course. They maintained an upright position mostly by leaning against each other for balance.
Between Maura’s avoidance of any sight of the water surrounding them and Zeeb’s misery, Harsha felt like a master of torture. “We can go home if you want.”
“Now that I’m finally used to this rotten boat? No. In fact, I’m ready to attempt a hammock in the men’s cabin tonight.”
“So, I can have my berth back?” She’d slept on the berth above Seraph while he used hers. The dragon’s body heat radiated upwards, so she spent most nights hot and uncomfortable, but she hadn’t wanted to ask the dragon to move her hoard. Given Seraph’s occupation and the daily relocation that searching for Sasquatch necessitated, Harsha didn’t really think Seraph would mind trading, but she felt it wise to err on the safe side.
“You can have your berth back.”
They took a full turn around the deck. Kaito lobbed dirty looks at them when they passed him, but his fingers flew over his keyboard, so she supposed he’d found something interesting. A yummy smell wafted from the galley, reminding Harsha to eat lunch. “Hungry?”
Zeeb’s cheeks billowed. “No.”
Crinkling her brow, she leaned toward the stairs. “Come on. Let’s see if we can find crackers before you waste away.”
Zeeb held the crackers down without trouble, but went straight to the men’s cabin to sleep the rest of the day. Harsha went back to monitoring the camera with Kaito. He tried to shoo her away, scolding her for manhandling the controls earlier. A brief reminder about whose money was paying for the expedition brought the argument to an end.
As usual, she saw nothing. At least, nothing she wanted to see. The only discovery she made was how much she regretted putting all her friends through another miserable adventure. Maura, surrounded by the home denied to her; Seraph, unable to take her true form; Zeeb, sick as a dog. Depressed, she made her way back to her cabin, kissed Maura goodnight, and crawled into her own, cool berth.
Chapter 30
A scratching noise interrupted Harsha’s dreams. She pried open her eyes, wondering what shone on them with so much brilliance in the middle of the night. The full moon stared at her through the porthole. The scratching repeated, followed by a man’s shout.
She sat bolt upright and smacked her head on Maura’s berth. She and Seraph shared a panicked look before jumping out of bed and rushing for the door. Seraph reached it first and yanked it open. Zeeb, in his wolf form, bounded into the room and scrambled to fit himself under Harsha’s berth. Seraph pressed the door back into place, wincing at the tiny snick of the lock. “Did anyone see you?”
He whimpered.
Seraph cursed. “What can we do? If someone saw a wolf on the ship, we’ll get awkward questions after all.”
“Boss! Boss!” Kaito pounded on the door. “Ms. Moreland. We got trouble. Ms. Moreland? Seraph? C’mon, Boss, wake up. We got a big dog on the boat.”
Maura propped herself on her elbow, rubbing sleep from her eyes. “Whuzz happening?”
“Zeeb is in a litt
le trouble.”
Maura hung over the edge of the berth to look at the wolf. “Dad?”
He twitched his tail a couple times.
“Are you okay?”
Kaito’s pounding increased in both volume and intensity.
“He’ll be fine.” Harsha reassured Maura. “Go back to sleep. If you can.”
Maura nodded and settled back down, pulling her pillow over her head. Harsha ducked her head down to talk to Zeeb. “Is Kaito the only one who saw you?”
He cowered further under the berth. His large wolf body refused to be hidden.
Harsha took his response as an, “I don’t know.” She looked at Seraph. “What do we do?”
Seraph shook her head and shrugged. Kaito’s pounding stopped, replaced by ramming. Harsha heard him backing and running to slam his body into the door. “Boss!”
“One moment!” She rearranged the blanket so it hung over the side of her berth as if she’d thrown it there. “Lay down on it,” she whispered to Seraph. Seraph obeyed while Harsha went to the door and opened it a crack.
“Boss!” Kaito shouted in her face and tried to push his way in.
Harsha, pushed back, doing her best to hold the door closed.
“I saw a dog. A big dog. I think a wolf. I thought I was dreaming at first but then it ran down here and it brushed past me. I felt it.” He shoved the door harder. “You’ve got to let me in. I swear I saw it go into your room.” He brandished a handgun. “I’ll get rid of it before it gets rid of you.”
He rammed the door, propelling Harsha backwards. Her calves hit Seraph’s berth. She slammed onto her back with her feet in the air. Kaito froze, mouth open, to ogle Seraph.
Seraph, covered only by the false chemise and corset combo, stretched in her languid, cat-like way, yawning as if she’d awakened in that moment. “Excuse me, but we’re trying to sleep.”
Harsha righted herself and shot Seraph a derisive look. No one would be fooled by that performance. Maura dangled an arm to snag Harsha’s pillow to add to the one she pressed over her ears and rolled to face the wall.
