by Plum Pascal
I finally snap myself from the stupor for long enough to put the pieces together and I inch away from her a little.
Siren. A fucking siren.
I’m not sure how she’s managed to grow legs, but it’s the only manner of creature she can possibly be. Her skin reminds me of a fish because she is part fish. She seems unabashed by her nudity, because she’s probably never worn clothes in her life. Aye, she’s probably never been in possession of a quim, in all likelihood.
I clear my throat with difficulty. It hurts like bloody fuck to do so.
“Who are ye?”
She tilts her head a fraction, popping those glistening fingers in her mouth curiously. She screws her face up a little at the taste.
“Call me Aria,” she says, speaking again in that lilting voice. It’s so damn pleasant.
I bet she’s drowned a thousand sailors like me with that voice. No doubt I’d be tempted to jump off the side of the Jolly Roger for this lass if she’d come at me with desire flashing in her eyes, her tits just visible above the foaming waves and her song rippling through the air.
She looks at me pointedly. “Who are you?”
“I’m Hook.”
Her lips purse and her brows pucker. The look of childlike confusion is pretty damn arresting. I try to remind myself she’s dangerous—even as she continues to touch her quim as if she wonders why it’s wet or, even perhaps, what the bloody thing is.
“Did ye rescue me?” I ask.
She nods and I find this information of interest. What the bloody hell would she have rescued me for? Most her kind desire nothing more than to watch sailors take their last breath of ocean water as they die a cold and miserable death.
No telling what she’s after by bringing me here.
“You speak with a strange accent,” she says. “I’ve never heard it before.”
I nod. Not many people outside of Neverland have. “Aye, ‘tis a piratin’ accent, lass,” I explain.
“Is Hook a common name among your people?”
I chuckle humorlessly. “Depends on what ye mean. ‘Round Delorood, nae. But there are stranger names in the land from which I hail.”
My brother, Quinn, ran with a group of men with names like Riddle, Nibbles, and Mayhaps. We’d been born Theoden and Quinn Teach. But Neverland was and is about the name you earn, not the one you were given.
“And where is this land?” she asks.
“I hail from the clan o’ the Scottish in the Neverland island o’ Alba.”
She stoops, retrieving something from her feet. It looks like a conch shell. She shuffles closer, as unsure as a colt on her new legs, and offers me the shell when she’s near enough.
“Water,” she explains. “From the pools on the island. My aunt says the sea is poisonous to humans. Drink.”
I take the shell from her, tipping it back to dribble the sweet liquid into my mouth.
“Why do ye care if the sea is poisonous to humans,” I start.
“I won’t have you die after I risked so much to rescue you.”
Questions begin to spin in my mind again. Why rescue me? It runs contrary to a siren’s nature, doesn’t it? And what is she risking by doing so? Is there some unspoken rule that dictates merpeople must kill humans, and she’s defying it?
“I’m obliged to ye, lass,” I say with a nod. She returns it.
I drink the water down in a few greedy swallows and already, I want more. Aria smiles and takes the conch from me, dipping it dutifully into a tin bucket at the foot of the bed before she offers it to me again. The next few minutes are spent guzzling water, until my stomach sloshes like a wave onto the surf. The stuff is a little stagnant and probably not clean, but at the moment it’s like fucking nectar.
She watches me curiously, toying with the edge of the heavy sail that covers my lap. She must have draped it over me at some point after we arrived. I’m glad of it. It keeps her from seeing the very obvious reaction I’m having to her exquisite body being so near mine.
For the sake of the fucking Blue Faerie, why am I reacting like this? I’ve seen a siren before, but her draw wasn’t half so potent as Aria’s. It’s a struggle not to take her to the bed, roll her beneath me so I can explore every inch of her beautiful body. And that would be a horrible idea. She’s probably never seen a human man nude before, much less had the desire to fuck one. I’d scare her. And once scared, she’d probably kill me.
“You should remain still,” she advises, stretching her body in a perfect arch to work out the kinks in her back. It has the added benefit of showing off those tits that are both heavy yet pert. “Moving might make things worse.”
My balls are beginning to ache. It’s been so long since I’ve been inside a woman. Since things with the Guild have picked up, making me almost exclusively a ferryman for their agents, I’ve not had much of a chance to solicit the services of a working girl or barmaid.
“How do ye figure?”
My voice comes out a croak, and it has nothing to do with swallowing sea water. The pain in my throat has dulled to a barely noticeable ache. Instead of feeling like a bit of jerky left in the sun, I now feel only marginally shaky. I’ll recover within the hour, if I can keep the fresh water down.
“I fear you might have gotten some of the kraken’s venom in your system,” she explains. “Moving might cause it to circulate. The mark I put on you should speed your healing though.”
“What mark?”
She shrugs and nearly trips over her own feet as she approaches me. Clearly she isn’t used to them. “The mark attaches your life force to mine.”
What’s the girl done to me? I begin searching my body for sucker marks or scales. But it’s the same as usual, aside from the rust forming on my mechanical hand. I can see the bulge of my hook in one of the inside pockets of my frock coat from here, so I’ll at least have a replacement.
Aria extends a hand, frowning when I draw back.
“I’m not going to hurt you.”
“Sirens dinnae have a reputation for bein’ merciful to men like meself, Popsy.”
Her expression clouds over with anger and her pupils go to slits, like a sea snake’s, for a moment. It’s damn eerie, and I shy still further away from her.
“I am not like most sirens, Hook.”
“Clearly. Nary have I met one with legs. Seen one with bloody great wings before, but never legs.”
“And my name isn’t Popsy,” she finishes.
“Aye, ‘tis a nickname, lass.”
She smooths her hands over her lovely stems for a moment, seemingly fascinated by the smooth texture. So am I, frankly. I’ve never seen a woman’s legs so smooth. Her skin is like the back of a dolphin, and I long to touch her and see if the comparison stands up.
“They aren’t permanent,” she says with a wee bit of sadness in her tone.
“Nae permanent?”
She looks up at me then and shakes her head. “I need to travel to Delorood, I was sent with a proposition for the King. A cessation of hostilities.”
“An’ I factored into that how?”
Her cheeks tinge lightly lilac, and I realize with a start that she’s blushing. It’s so fucking beautiful. I reach out without thinking, run my hand over the heated arch of one cheekbone. Her skin is silky smooth, and yes, it does have some similarities to dolphin skin. Most of her feels cool to the touch, except where her blood bubbles to the surface. I’ve always wondered if sirens ran hot or cold. Did they lean more to their human half? Now I know the answer.
She nuzzles into my touch with a small, kitten-like sound of pleasure. I can’t help myself. “I want to kiss ye,” I murmur.
She stares at me blankly. “Kiss?”
“Aye, kiss.”
She shakes her head. “I… don’t know… what that means.”
Morningstar’s reeking balls!
Merpeople don’t kiss? How impersonal is their fucking?
“I can show ye,” I coax, sliding two fingers beneath her chin and t
ipping her face up.
“Is it pleasant?” she asks, while studying me suspiciously.
“Aye, verra pleasant.”
She seems to think about it. “Very well. It seems fair, since I’ve put a mark on you.”
She lifts a hand, running her fingers lightly over the side of her neck. Now that she’s touching it, I can feel the rough outlines of a lip print seared into my own skin.
“I would like you to kiss me, Hook.”
I’ve never been so happy to oblige. I close the distance between us and press my lips to hers gently. She trembles beneath my touch. Her breasts move in time, drawing a small groan from me. She’s so lovely. I’m doomed to be under her thrall. At this point, I don’t even care if she intends to drown me. So long as I can feel that tight quim around my cock once, I’ll die a happy man.
Her lips part, and a wee pink tongue darts out to taste my lips. My cock hardens to the point of pain.
She shimmies her body closer, so she’s straddling my thigh. Her slick heat is maddening. She’s so fucking wet! Does she even know what it means when her quim throbs with need? I want to show her what the little pearl at the apex of her sex does. I want her to scream my name as she loses herself to the ecstasy of orgasm.
I’m poised to ask. I don’t touch women without permission, and she could say no. But I hope against hope she wants this as much as I do.
Before I’m able, the door of the shack bursts open, the frame wrenched loose by incredible force. The structure groans and threatens to buckle around us. Aria and I jerk apart, necks craning to see the intruder.
It’s a man, easily my size. Perhaps a wee bit bigger. He’s broad-shouldered, rippling with muscle, and also completely nude. He’s as striking as Aria, in his way—luminescent silver skin, hair as long as Aria’s, though his is of a yellow shade. The markings on his face are blue, instead of green, and contrast strongly with his skin.
Fuck me. Are they all so beautiful?
“Good morrow, mate,” I start.
The man’s eyes narrow as he focuses them on Aria, then on me, and his lips pull back from his teeth. I’m taken aback by the needle-like incisors. Like a bloodsuckers, they are.
He lets out a primal sound before he lunges, fist flying toward my face.
FIVE
BASTION
I don’t know where the damn human came from. Cassio Island has been abandoned for many months, ever since Triton failed to keep a handle on the grotesquerie. Too risky. Delorood kept its barbaric peoples near the shoreline, instead of sending them out to sea. So why is this thing here?
He’s a shade I’ve not seen before, skin so tanned it looks like fresh soil. He’s as muscled as I, and probably more sturdy on his feet. These damn things don’t want to cooperate. They stumble often, so my gait is staggering and clumsy. I dislike them intensely. I’ll be grateful when we can return to the depths, miserable as they are. At least there, I’m sleek and quick.
But, no matter. The human has his hands on Aria! Close to her throat!
When I first opened the door to this shanty, I noticed the man’s mouth mashed against hers. He was trying to eat her face!
So I blasted through the door as my lips pulled away from my teeth in a snarl. None of us are flesh-eaters, but I wish to make an exception for this land dweller.
No one will harm the princess! Not when I am here to defend her!
I lunge forward, almost tripping over the debris that litters the floor, but I somehow keep my balance. I seize the front of his outer covering and pull it clear off him. Then I reach for his shoulder and yank him off her.
“Bloody hell, mate, that’s no way to greet a stranger!” he yells as he comes off the mattress with a cry of surprise, mud-colored eyes flying wide open. He doesn’t have time to raise his hands in defense or surrender before I’ve driven my fist into his stomach. He doubles over, landing on the ground, the air leaving him in a rush. Puny humans, with their limited lungs. It’s so easy to paralyze their diaphragms. I despise having that weakness myself for the next two weeks. I want my gills back. This mouth-breathing is undignified.
The human barely turns his head in time to avoid my fist again. I aim to break that squarish jaw before he can use those blunt teeth to rip my dear Aria’s lips off. She’d regrow them eventually, but to see her maimed? The thought is unbearable.
My fist collides painfully with a water pail, instead, and it tips, spilling stagnant water from one of the island’s pools onto the floor. Through the thudding pulse in my ears, I can hear Aria screeching something, but can’t make out the words.
Then I see it, and I go cold. My arm stops mid-swing as it sinks in.
On the human’s throat, in the hollow below his ear, is a perfect blackened imprint of Aria’s lips. I would recognize the shape and texture anywhere. I have stared at her face for too many hours not to know the contours by heart.
A mate mark!
Not completed, because it isn’t edged with the shade of her markings. But it’s clearly a mate mark, all the same.
But, why? Why would she mark a human? This human?
Betrayal spikes through my veins, the taste of kelp and bitter bile rising in my throat. I shoot a glance over my shoulder, and she recoils from the accusation in my eyes. She chose this... this vagabond? This barbarian, over one of us, one of her own?
I have never asked. It’s not my place to court the princess. A lowly servant will never be able to touch a goddess.
But this? He isn’t even her same species!
How would he mate her to seal the union? How would he give her children?
Why would she do this? She can’t have known him long, a mere hour at the most, yet I’ve been steadfast for years. It’s unjust.
The human uses the opportunity to pull to up to his feet, then once he’s standing, he draws up his knee and shoves it into the space between my legs, where a jutting appendage dangles. I had thought it a growth or perhaps a worm.
The agony is instantaneous.
It steals the breath from my fragile human lungs and causes me topple sideways, clutching myself. My vision flashes white. A rushing fills my ears. It’s pain as I’ve never experienced before, and I’ve been gutted by a swordfish. I still bear the scar above my tail line to prove it.
The human looms over me, as naked as I am, raising a glinting metallic hook, ready to drive it into my nose. Then, a soft hand with tapered fingers catches his wrist, holding it firmly above his head with strength that belies her svelte and comely frame.
“Enough,” she commands, spearing us both with a glare. “Is this how all males are? What’s wrong with both of you?”
“He attacked me, nae the other way ‘round,” the human grumbles as he takes a seat on the large rectangular mass in the center of the room.
“The human was trying to eat you!” I defend myself. I can hear the churlish note in my voice, even as I speak.
“Eat the lass?” the human chuckles, shaking his head. “Yer off yer bloody rocker, mate!”
Aria’s eyes narrow on me, her scowl all for me now. The injustice rankles. Why am I being punished? I’m merely acting on my duty to protect her! At least, partly. I do want to take a bite of the human for daring to bear her mark. Unworthy mouth breather.
Then her eyes drop to the place between my legs and she studies the bizarre attachment with interest. I pull myself up to standing, though the pain still lingers and I find myself bending over slightly.
“You’ve got one too,” she says as she leans over and reaches for it, batting it playfully. The creature moves from one side to the other and then begins to increase in girth and length as she touches it.
“Aye, enough o’ that or the lad’s gonna do somethin’ I dinnae wish to see,” the human says, purposely turning his head from us both.
“Is it a worm?” Aria asks as she looks at him. “Or a growth of some sort? A parasite?”
“A worm?” the human blasts out, chuckling as he slaps his thigh. “Nae! ‘Tis a t
odger!”
“A todger?” Aria repeats, testing the word out on her tongue. “Is it… part of you? I mean, is it one of your… appendages?”
“Aye, ‘tis a todger an’ each man has one.”
“Oh,” Aria says as she glances down at herself. “I don’t have one.” She reaches her fingers between her legs and rubs the strange slit there, pulling her hand away as she studies the glistening wetness left on her fingers. “This must be a clam between my legs?”
Perhaps it is a clam as it looks quite like one.
“Oh, bloody hell,” the human says as he takes a deep breath and rolls to his feet in a graceful movement, adroit and confident. I envy him for more reasons than one.
As soon as he’s upright, his chuckle rings through the air—a rich, throaty sound, and Aria shivers. Her nipples pucker. I wonder at her body’s reaction to him. It’s not cold in here as it is in the deep.
The human notices, too. He can’t seem to keep his eyes off her breasts. I feel as if I’m missing something crucial. They’re just breasts. Why does he stare at them so hungrily? Does he wish to eat those, too?
“Why were you attempting to eat Aria’s face?” I demand, wanting to stick to the subject.
“Ye dinnae know what a blimy kiss is either, do ye?”
“Kiss?” I repeat.
“Old, hairy balls!” the human roars with laughter, smacking his hand on his thigh once more. He seems quite daft. As I watch, his todger, as he termed it, seems to echo his chuckles and moves accordingly.
“Balls?” I repeat, glaring at him.
“Humans touch their mouths together as a form of pleasant greeting,” Aria informs me primly. “Which I would have told you if you’d spoken with me, instead of charging our… human friend… like a bull shark!”
“He’s not my human friend,” I groan and then duck my head, chagrin seizing me. She’s right, of course. The humans’ customs are sure to be strange. I stand upright even though the pain still lingers. It’s not quite as bad now though.
