by Elsa Jade
Except… There really was something wrong with her. Without the Wavercrest syndrome or the fire-witch stories or something, she’d have no explanation for what was happening to her. She’d be back at ground zero, like before she’d gotten a letter from Marisol seeking others suffering from strange symptoms who carried the Wavercrest gene—a heritage they now knew was extraterrestrial.
At first, she’d loved the idea of being half mermaid. To find out she was all monster… “Just go home,” she said with a sigh. “Tell them I refused to come back with you.”
“No.”
She glared at him. “What, you don’t want to look bad? Then just tell them you never found me at all.”
“No.”
She glared at him some more. “Whatever. Don’t go. Don’t tell them anything. I don’t care. Just get out of here. Leave.” She flicked her fingers at him in a shooing gesture as if he were a stray cat lurking at her back door. Except he was much too large and scary to be a cat, even some white tiger—more like a great white land shark—and anyway she’d never shooed away any stray. She’d always lured them closer, fed them, cuddled them.
Uh yeah, no, bad idea. She was not cuddling a half-shark alien warrior, even if that insulating layer of flesh made him look particularly plush under that pebbled skin.
Perhaps predictably, he was unmoved by her feeble rejection. Maybe if there’d been more lightning?
“No,” he said again, although this time he deigned to add, “I can’t.”
Annoyed enough to feel a little warmer, she propped her fists on her hips. “Just because your commander gave you a mission—”
He shook his head. “I can’t reach them. I can’t leave.”
A niggling of alarm wiggled through her. “Just…turn around and go. However you got here. It’s not like you swam here.”
“I did,” he said. “Through the tunnels from the Atlantyri.”
She frowned. The exodus ship from Tritona, fleeing their interminable war with a precious cargo of endangered species and then lost for centuries, was hidden near Yellowstone, which was almost an hour’s drive from the estate. “Where’s your spaceship? The one that brought you here now?”
“Gone. The IDA security codes that the Cretarni hijacked to come here have expired. So my ship couldn’t stay.”
She boggled at him. “Well, you certainly can’t stay here.” The other Tritonyri had been able to masquerade as human—too tall and handsome and alluring to be actually human, but close enough. Sting was…none of those things.
Earth was a closed world to protect its inhabitants from knowledge of and interference by the wider intergalactic community. The Cretarni, longtime enemies of the Tritonans, had hacked the Intergalactic Dating Agency secret security codes allowing them access to Earth, but the extraterrestrial presence had gone undetected, and even if she was only part Earther, she needed to keep it that way. And no alien was going to access her. “Call them back to come get you.”
He shook his head. “Gone,” he said again, as if she hadn’t heard him the first time. “We’ll use the ship you stole.”
She stuck her jaw out. “You can’t. I crashed it.”
For the first time, she thought she glimpsed actual emotion in him. He jerked back, not a lot, but enough that she could see it. “You…crashed? That was a good ship, small but solid. And it had already been here once, so it should’ve had the landing coordinates and original security code already cleared.”
“I know all that. That’s why I borrowed it.” She bit the inside of her cheek. “I didn’t realize how strong my zaps had gotten. When I was coming in to land, the whole ship went out.” She shuddered, wrapping her arms around herself at the memory of plunging through the darkness, the only lights the demonic red glow of atmospheric friction out the viewport and the only sounds the howl of furious forces on the hull plus the tiny voice of the Diatom’s AI apologizing for the catastrophic systems failure.
“How did you land without power?” A note of disbelief sharpened his tone.
“I didn’t. I crashed in Sunset Lake. Luckily, since Thomas still has the sensor array that Maelstrom set up here, he got the mayday from the Diatom. He came up to the lake and found me on the shore.” She shivered again. “I don’t even really remember how I got out of the ship and through the water.” She bowed her head. “Not that it matters since the zaps are going to kill me eventually anyway.” From the corner of her lowered gaze, she saw him reaching for her and flinched away. “Don’t touch me! Unless you want me to kill you instead.”
“No.” Although he seemed to be responding to her threat, neither did he lower his hand. His fingers flexed wider. “I feel your skin. Cold.” He made a fist. “Go inside before you freeze.”
She grimaced. If she went inside, he was just going to follow. She couldn’t stop him. But even if he didn’t come inside, she couldn’t stop him from lurking.
Not unless she wanted to zap him to death.
Whirling on her heel, she stalked back to the balcony doors. She stomped over to the marble fireplace and cranked the gas to high. Surely a shark-man wouldn’t want to be smoked any more than he wanted to be fried.
She refused to look over at him, but it was pretty much impossible to ignore his massive form drifting silently along the row of bookshelves and past the enormous teak desk, toward the aquarium, where of course he stopped.
She whipped her head around to glower at him. If he tried to catch her precious seahorses, she would definitely zap him to death. And not even feel bad about it.
“So tiny,” he murmured. “So delicate.”
She hesitated. He seemed almost…mesmerized.
And she realized he was staring at her reflection in the thick glass.
She stiffened. “The anemones have stinging tentacles,” she informed him tartly. “And the lionfish has toxins in its spines.”
“I like stings.” He straightened and turned to face her with that unblinking gaze. “Very much.”
Was he still talking about the fish, or…? The waves of heat from the fireplace suddenly made her lightheaded, and she groped behind her for the marble throne. She held on tight, but she refused to sit down. She was already tiny and delicate compared to him, that was true enough, and she refused to make herself more vulnerable.
As if anything she might do, short of electrocution, could stop him.
Except boot him back to the stars. “Maelstrom left a messaging system. Thomas can only send passive data to get through Earth’s closed-world protections. But he should be able to send a note for someone to come retrieve you.”
“Why didn’t he tell your friends that you’re here?”
“Because I asked him not to.”
Sting tilted his head in that way she was coming to realize meant he had no idea what she was talking about. And not because of a glitching translator.
“I made him promise not to betray me,” she clarified.
“So he betrayed your friends instead.”
“What? No…” She grimaced. Maybe it had been unfair to force Thomas to keep her secret from his employer. “Just for a little while,” she muttered. “I needed a place to be, until…” Well, she wasn’t going there right now. Blowing off that massive electrical charge might’ve gained her a lull in the zaps.
His eyes narrowed slightly, turning the white shield of his lenses to ice with the blue-green glow of the tropical water behind him. “A place to be? It’s wherever you are.”
She snorted out a hard breath. “Easy for you to say, when you’re…” She waved one hand at him vaguely.
He cocked his head again. “What?”
She sputtered. “Big,” she said at last. “Of course any place you go, there you are. And all the places immediately adjacent too. You get to claim all that space.” She glared at him. “And armored. You have an armored hide, so of course you’re confident in your own skin. And your eyes.” Oh, she was really getting warmed up now. “Since you have those protective lenses permanently froze
n over your eyes, no one can tell what you’re thinking. I bet you don’t even get weepy ever, do you?”
“Not always.”
She paused in her rant. “What?”
“My eyes. They aren’t frozen like this.”
She blinked. “Oh. I thought…”
He blinked too, as if mocking her.
She stared. It took her a moment to realize anything had changed. His eyes were so pale that the white shield might as well still have been there. Until he slightly turned his face away, as if he suddenly missed the invulnerability that she ranted about. As he glanced down, the glow of firelight reflected across his exposed eyes with the faintest opalescent sheen like the delicate inner layers of a perfect pearl.
Her heart beat at seeing the huge, armored male reveal himself like that to her. Considering the rest of his body was so blatantly on display in the skimpy straps of his battle skin, it shouldn’t have seemed so revealing just to blink. And yet…
She glanced away, her pulse rattling harder as if to make up for that missed moment. “I’m not like you,” she whispered. “And I can never go back.”
Without looking at him again, she fled the library.
If she couldn’t get rid of him, at the very least she could run away herself.
Chapter 3
Sting settled on the ground where he could see both the glass of small aquatic creatures and the flickering flames. Sitting on the hard ground was not as comfortable as floating in the heavy brine of Tritona’s sea, and he contemplated climbing into the large cistern. But his body would push out most of the water, negating the flotation, and his little distant cousins would not survive the tidal wave he’d make.
Anyway, the sensation of holding his own weight was interesting for the moment. As was the experience of being on his own.
The Tritonesse had made him as a weapon, one to be wielded in deliberate, targeted ways. Coriolis had believed that Titanyri could be more than that and had given him a longer leash. During the war, the Tritonesse had been hiding too far in their trenches to notice and object, but Sting had to wonder now if his commander was wrong.
When he’d realized that the access codes through the closed-world protections were invalidated, he told his shipmates to drop him and retreat immediately before they were noticed by planetary enforcement. Tritona couldn’t afford to be caught breaking intergalactic law, but his commander had given him this mission, and he would see it through. At the time, it seemed like a small matter to go by himself, to hunt and retrieve one part-Tritonan female, and depart in her stolen ship. Discovering that the Diatom had crashed was a hectopi itch he’d not foreseen.
And discovering that the female had potentially lethal stings of her own…
The crackle of her electricity had seared across his eyes and all his sensory organs. He’d heard how the Tritonesse had been furious and fearful at the discovery of a nul’ah-wys in their midst. Considering that they’d made him and set him loose without hesitation or second thought should’ve given more credence to the possibility that she was dangerous.
Sitting halfway between the fire and the water, he wiggled his fingers thoughtfully in the air. How did she do it? It had been so pretty, like all of the bioluminescence of the deeps compressed into brilliant threads of lightning.
His dreamy gesture focused his attention on the datpad strapped to his wrist. The small device couldn’t reach all the way to Tritona, of course. Probably he could patch in to the house comm and send a message that would eventually reach his commander.
But not yet. They wanted her back on Tritona, but since she was safe in his presence, there was time to lure her closer without unnecessary fuss or electrocution.
And if she didn’t want to give in…
He pushed to his feet and went to the water. Reaching over the lid of the cistern, he dabbled his fingertips lightly on the surface. It was salty, warmer than his natal waters, but a faint tang reminded him of home.
A little creature, sinuously curved with dimpled skin, loosed itself from its anchored safety in the weeds and drifted upward toward where his finger imprinted a meniscus on the water.
To his enchantment, it somewhat resembled a miniaturized boundary beast, with fewer tentacles and teeth. “Little distant cousin,” he whispered. “Are you sweet?”
It drifted higher, stretching its arched neck so that the snout hovered just below his finger. He held his breath.
It touched him, with no stings or toxins. And he let out a soft breath. “Yes, sweet.”
When he submerged his whole hand, it wrapped its tail around his finger, clinging tight in the gently circulating water.
He stood awhile, the gravity of this place somehow less aching with the touch of the tiny alien creature against his skin.
But then his stomach gurgled, and with a soft ping, he sent the creature back next to the weeds. “A hie kharea-lan, little distant cousin.” In case it understood only the local Earther language, he prompted his universal translator to add, “Wishing you a sweet night tide.”
After extinguishing the regulated fire contained in the rock archway—he’d watched how Lana controlled the device—he followed his olfactory organs to an interior chamber of the dwelling. Compared to the easy foraging of a deep-sea vent or the tidal shallows, this room was difficult to hunt. Everything was wrapped and tucked away, not to mention unfamiliarly scented. Since it was unlikely anything on this planet could kill him, he filled his belly with whatever smelled most edible.
When his energy needs were replete, he turned to go. But a domed container at the end of one counter caught his attention. It carried the same scent as the little female’s breath so he went to investigate.
Underneath was a dark, earth-colored substance striated into puffy layers with even darker, more earth-colored layers between. He pinged the substance suspiciously. Perhaps it had some sort of explosive characteristics if it was the last thing Lana had eaten before blowing him off the ledge.
But the substance seemed inert, and she had eaten it, so…
He tucked the domed container under his arm and let himself out of the house, carefully resetting the alarms. He stepped into the fountain centered in front of the dwelling, and sank beneath the surface.
From here, he could wait while he decided how he would take her back where she belonged.
***
When the star of this little world lit up the sky the next morning, he hefted himself out of the pool and padded to the front door. He knocked and waited patiently.
He didn’t mind being patient for a little while when a probing ping told him that he could shatter the bolt with a proper wavelength whenever he wanted.
When an Earther male opened the portal, he even managed one of the gentle teeth-baring expressions that signaled no lethal intent among the Earthers.
Which didn’t seem to reassure the guardsman on the receiving end. He kept one arm braced across the entrance and lifted one eyebrow. “Mister Sting, I presume.”
Sting waited a little longer. He could still be patient. Because he could shatter the male as well.
The Earther sighed. “Miss Lana is awaiting you in the library.” He finally took a step back.
But as Sting stepped toward the doorway, the guardsman didn’t release his hold on the latch. Instead he lifted a serious gaze, despite his insignificant height. “Miss Lana came here to heal,” he said. “You are not to interfere with that.”
Sting considered. “The only place her symptoms will be lessened is Tritona.”
“I’m not talking about healing from the Wavercrest syndrome.” The male finally cleared the doorway.
Sting eased past him with a more cautious respect for the smaller male. Small didn’t mean defenseless, as he’d been reminded last night.
On his way past the Earther, he handed over the domed container, licked clean.
While he didn’t quite know what a library was, following Lana’s scent was simple enough.
She was standing in fro
nt of the cistern where he’d been last night, sprinkling some flaky substance over the surface of the water. There was a step built into the cabinetry, but she still had to stretch to reach, and the swirling hem of her skirt lifted high, revealing thick-soled bright blue footwear stamped with a word. His translator informed him the footwear was named like one of Earth’s predatory saltwater reptiles. Though he never wore shoes, he liked the name and the bright color; maybe he would find a pair of these Crocodiles for himself before he left Earth with Lana.
Because he would take her.
He could take her right now, while she was distracted. Lifting his attention from the shoes he wanted, he eyed her sturdy ankles flaring upward to the rounded flesh at the back of her legs. His fingers would wrap comfortably around, and he might boost her up higher to reach…
“Hey, pretty little beebees,” she was murmuring. “Good morning, Aphrodite. Morning, Ursula. Come and get your yummy sea monkey chow, Moana.”
He was surprised there wasn’t a boiling rush in the water racing to get to her at that tender urging. He found himself inexorably drawn forward. “Which ones are the beebees?”
With a gasp, she glanced over her shoulder at him, eyes widening. Her balance wobbled—
He took another long step forward and steadied her with a hand at the small of her back. “Which ones?”
She scowled at him, but then her gaze shifted to the creatures in the water. “These. They’re seahorses, actually.” She pressed one fingertip against the glass, and a little shiver traced down his spine. “They’re too shy to come out and eat right away. But they’ll rise up when they get hungry.”
His hand drifted a little lower, toward the curve of her hip. He was feeling a little hungry himself. “Why don’t you call to them?”
Her eyes widened again. “Call to them? I can’t do that.”
“You are Tritonan, partly.”
Her features scrunched up. “They said I’m…I’m a monster. They don’t want to claim me.”
Claim me… The anger and yearning in her voice sent waves through him. “Their words change nothing,” he pointed out. “A calling is a little thing. Just a tightening from here.” He put his hand over his chest. “Call.”
