A Mermaid's Ransom

by Joey W. Hill

  Those weren't his thoughts of course, but the emotions he was emitting had hints of that in it, like a hummed song where the listener could almost understand the words from the feelings evoked by the notes.

  He slid a hand across the top of the car. Intrigued, she reached out, met his fingers tip to tip, since her arm was shorter and couldn't quite reach. "What was that for?" she asked softly when he pulled back.

  "Touch eases your mind," he explained. "And I like touching you."

  He could relax with her. He couldn't do that with an angel escort. She'd survived the Dark One world, for Heaven's sake. She could survive being a vampire's tour guide.

  "Okay, let's go."

  ALL right, maybe she couldn't. "Dante," she explained for the tenth time, "I can't answer questions about everything you see, because I'm driving. If I look to see everything you're pointing at, I'll wreck the car. Though you may be indestructible, it won't be pleasant. And I like my car. We'll walk later today, and that way I can tell you about things right when you see them."

  "Why can't we stop and walk now?"

  "There will be time to do it all," she promised. "I just have somewhere I'd really like to take you first. There are too many people on the sidewalks. I'd rather you get used to having people around you in a more . . . low-key environment."

  He seemed dissatisfied with that, but subsided, though he continued to watch the passing scenery with intense interest. She was beginning to think her comparison to an infant was not inaccurate, though it was still amusing, given that the last thing she wanted to do when she looked at Dante was shake a rattle at him or coo.

  Of course, he was plundering all information around him, including her mind, so she was pressed into an explanation about babies and their entertainments.

  Maybe she was more like a new mommy than she wanted to acknowledge. She was intrigued by his reactions to everything, and still nursing a nervous flutter about having him out on her own. No mother had ever been so distracted by her infant's profile or how his jeans fit his thighs, though. Plus, an infant would have been behind her, strapped in a child safety seat. She suppressed a smile as he turned a narrow gaze to her.

  "Oh crap." The fuel light. In her distraction, she'd forgotten to stop and get gas, and Heaven only knew how long that had been blinking. If Dante had been practically hanging over her shoulder, as he'd wanted to do in order to watch the way the instrument board worked, she was sure he would have noticed it earlier.

  They weren't far from her destination, the community center, so she pulled into the Korean grocery on the corner. The bars on the windows and door, the graffiti on the cinder block side walls and concrete island, advertised this wasn't the best neighborhood, but that didn't concern her. Her gift protected her from unfriendly advances.

  The community center had been built in such an area to be accessible to low-income families, and she didn't mind supporting the Korean grocer that stuck it out here, despite constant robbery attempts. She enjoyed showing Dante how to pump the gas, talked him out of pouring some on his hand to smell it and left him leaning against the car, watching the numbers tick by, while she went in to pay. She'd told him how to finish up and put the lid back on, so that gave her an extra minute to pick up another candy bar and a bottle of juice. The healthy breakfast she'd consumed while explaining everything to him had helped steady her, but she wanted to be prepared, just in case.

  However, her pleasure that things were going so well was disrupted by the storekeeper waving her back up to the front. "Your friend may have trouble," he said.

  Leaning across the counter to see out the window, she swore under her breath. A car full of gang members had pulled up to the pump on the other side, and the members had spilled out, a couple coming toward the store while the others propped on their vehicle, engaging Dante in conversation.

  "I can't leave the register," the grocer said, a worried look on his lined face. "I'll call the patrol officer and ask him to drive by for your friend, but he may take a few minutes."

  "It's not my friend I'm worried about." Paying for the gas, Lex grabbed the items she'd bought and hurried back out toward the car.

  Dante was still leaning against their vehicle, his arms crossed, sunglasses hiding his expression, but from the stillness she felt from him, he was aware he faced trouble.

  "It's a pretty white boy. A really white boy," one of the gang members was taunting, as several others circled her little hatchback, hooting at her fairy and flower static clings. "Got any money to pay for our gas, pale boy? Hiding under that cute shirt you're wearing? Look at all that pretty hair."

  Dante glanced down at himself quizzically and then back up. "No. I do not have money."

  "Sure you don't. Think you ought to let my friends here check."

  "Stop this," Alexis said. She pushed past one of the boys to move in front of Dante, ratchetting up the angelic light of her aura. While it would momentarily confuse their intent, she was touching excessively battered consciences jacked up on chemicals, clouding their receptors. "We're just going to visit the community center. Please let us go."

  "Oh, one of them do-gooders. How about you give us some money for our gas, pretty boy's bitch?" The one in charge gave her a raking glance and rubbed his crotch suggestively. "You fine looking, girl. You let your bitch do your fighting for you, pretty boy? She looks tougher than you, that's for damn sure."

  She had a tart response for that, for she already sensed this was more show than intent, performing for his boys, but she'd forgotten how fast a vampire could move. She didn't even know Dante had left her side until the gang member squawked for air. He was being held off his feet, his back slammed against the gas pump. As his face went red, headed toward blue, the boy's sneakers kicked ineffectually against Dante's legs.

  Dante, please don't hurt him. We can't let you--

  Even as she began the admonition, she registered the tremor in Dante's back, smelled burning flesh. Dropping the sack, Alexis lunged forward, caught hold of his shirt. "Put him down. Stop hurting yourself!"

  Dante complied by tossing his victim away from him, which took the young man twenty feet across the parking lot. He landed on the broken asphalt with a bone-breaking thud and a shrill shout of pain. As two of the gang ran to his assistance, Dante closed a hand on Alexis's arm, holding her at his side as he removed the sunglasses. The other three closing in confronted pure flame. His mouth was taut with pain or rage, she couldn't tell, because both vibrated from him. Lex saw dark rivulets running under his skin, burns from the steel collar. The metal was dull orange, but a moment ago it had been stove top red-hot, like sword steel pulled from a smelter's fire.

  "She is not yours to touch or threaten," he said, and the coldness of his voice should have chilled that steel to ice. Then he bared his fangs.

  She thought they set Olympic records, scrambling away from him, piling back into their car. The two who had the gang leader didn't come back at all, helping him up and taking off toward the street, the car peeling out and picking them up before they sped down the road.

  At least they wouldn't be scurrying to the nearest police officer to report their strange encounter. She told herself that, hoping to calm her shaking. She'd been right. They couldn't do this. It was too close a call. Taking lives was a simple thing to him, not even creating a ripple in his conscience.

  She watched numbly as Dante knelt, picking up the items that had fallen out of the grocery sack, examining the candy bars, sodas and juice she'd chosen. When he brought them to her, he closed his hand over her trembling one.

  "You are correct, Alexis. You're my guide, not my keeper. If this is distressing you, I will explore on my own and come back to your place later, when I am ready."

  "You can't. They won't let you do that. They said--" She blew out a breath at his expression. "Why are you staying with me, then, if you don't feel like they can keep you here?"

  "Because it is easier to do this with you."

  Of course. It was easier
to have someone to translate and explain what he was seeing, and be a ready-made meal when needed.

  The paper crackled between them as he moved close to her. She was standing on the island, so her eyes were almost level with his. Sliding a hand into her hair, he wrapped it around his fingers, tightening so he brought her to her toes and pressed his mouth over hers. Slow, devastating, but hot and needy as well, so that the paper complained further as she clutched it. By the time he lifted his head, she was leaning into him for balance.

  "I translated magical texts in a Dark One world. Figured out how to create a new rift there, deep in the earth. Conjured a dream portal to capture you. If I wanted to understand the things in this world, I could. I prefer you at my side."

  She swallowed. "I can't be objective. It's not safe."

  "That is not something you can control, so that is irrelevant."

  He was right, but it didn't make her feel any more comfortable with herself, or at ease with the situation. She couldn't stop thinking of his words and what they meant. I prefer you at my side. "Your sunglasses . . . you really should put them back on."

  Lifting a brow, he brushed a thumb across her mouth. She couldn't help it, she parted her lips, bit down. He held the digit there, pushed it a little more aggressively against the corner of her mouth, like a horse's bit, stretching her lips as his other fingers curved around the side of her throat, holding her in a way that made every nerve ending electrify. "I assume it is not appropriate to take you here. That this is also public."

  "Way public," she whispered. "But I wish it wasn't."

  "There are a few things I definitely do not like about this world," he commented, and released her. Alexis drew a steadying breath.

  "Dante, you can't . . . I appreciate you defending me, but you need to let me take the lead in situations like that. I could feel what he felt. He wasn't going to do me any harm--"

  "He intended to frighten you." He shook his head. "I did that, and I didn't like it."

  "I already forgave you for that." Placing her hand on his throat, beneath the collar, she touched the black marks. "Are you okay?"

  He wouldn't be distracted. "That is not something to forgive, Alexis. When someone harms you, you ensure it does not happen again. The burns will heal. All my wounds heal."

  Not all of them, she thought, touching that black knot of emotions from him. "I'm just saying, since they weren't going to hurt me, it would have been best to let it go. They tried to frighten me, yes, but I wasn't going to be afraid while you were here."

  "I am not being clear. I will not tolerate anyone having a thought of harming you, whether they accomplish it or not. You are not strong enough to change their behavior, so it is the only way."

  "No. There are other ways," she said softly. "You could have hurt me, in your world. You didn't."

  "That was because you . . . my intention was not to hurt you."

  "But you would have if you needed to do it, to free yourself. That's what you implied. But when the time came, you didn't. And it wasn't because I was stronger or more powerful than you, more capable of causing you pain. We found another way."

  He studied her. "Perhaps. But violence is still more reliable."

  "You and my father have more in common than you realize," she muttered, but she ran her knuckles along his cheek. It made his brows furrow as he analyzed the gesture, the way he seemed to do all her actions. Before she could think of something else to say, he'd glanced down at himself again.

  "Is there something wrong with my clothing?"

  "Yes and no." She allowed herself a small smile. "I love the shirt on you, but it's a bit more romantic than what most men wear, outside of a Renaissance faire. Stay here. I'll go back in and buy you a nice, manly T-shirt so no more local gangs decide you're a sissy girl and get dismembered for their poor judgment."

  "You chose it. I will wear it." He opened her car door, peering at the control panel again. "I want to drive this."

  "One thing at a time." Moved by his simple declaration and amused at the speed at which his mind was working, Alexis got in and nodded toward the passenger seat. "Tomorrow we'll go to a parking lot so I can teach you to drive."

  Eighteen

  THE community center was quiet, since it was a weekday during business hours. It was located in the middle of Fortram Park, frequented by adults or sitters letting their young charges enjoy the maze of playground equipment.

  She'd given it a great deal of thought, and come to the conclusion children would be the safest ground for him at the beginning. To help him assimilate into his new world, he had to be in a less defensive mode. All predators recognized the young. Children had a greater chance of being accepted as nonthreatening.

  Exposing Dante to children might seem a terrible risk to those who only understood him on the surface. It was a steadying reminder of why she'd wanted to be the one to guide him.

  As they got out of her small car, he stretched his long legs and looked around him. She'd brought a light jacket for herself, but he didn't seem to be bothered by the nip in the air. The playground wasn't overly busy, which was good, because he didn't blend in in the slightest. The dark frames she'd found for him swallowed those exceptional eyes but emphasized the sensuality of his lips, the sculpting of his jaw. The wind swept his hair over the broad shoulders, drawing the eye to the loose lacing in the shirt front and the tempting chest revealed. She suppressed a sigh. Okay, a common-looking Henley pullover and a haircut might not be amiss. Though she remembered the way his hair slid across her bare skin as he put his lips on her breast. What if he'd gone downward, over her belly, teasing her navel piercing with his teeth . . .

  "If you do not stop doing that, I will have to block your thoughts. Or we will have to go back to your home, since you insist on privacy." He spoke without looking toward her, still studying the playground.

  "It's not my fault." She closed her car door. "You could try looking less attractive." He'd caught the attention of almost every female in the park, and a couple of the males who obviously preferred their own gender. She came up to his side. "Want to find a bench and sit for a while before we go inside?"

  He glanced down at her. "I am not interested in males."

  "What about females?"

  "Would that anger you?" When she didn't respond, he lifted one perfect brow. "It would. Not anger, but it would . . . hurt you. Make you upset. You are . . . possessive."

  Lex turned her gaze away, studied the park herself. "I have no claim on you," she said, knowing it was the truth. In thirty days, if she was successful, he would go and do anything he wished. "But a lot of women have this funny quirk. When we're . . . with a male, we prefer that he only be with us, while we're with him. Physically. What we were doing earlier."

  Those dark glasses were still trained on her face. From the heat sweeping across her skin, she knew she was flushing. "Females prefer one male only," he said slowly. "If he wishes another female . . . physically, she no longer wants him."

  "Close enough. So if you decide you want to . . . with someone else, I'd prefer you not do that with me anymore."

  "When I make that decision, I will remember your request and consider it. Now where is this bench?"

  He took a couple steps from her, stopped and looked back at her. "You ask me not to do harm, but you are thinking of skewering me with a stake."

  Alexis closed her eyes. When she opened them, she started, because he was back in front of her. Before she could speak, he'd drawn her to her toes and laid his mouth on top of hers. This kiss demanded she melt into him as his arm cinched around her waist, fingers sliding under the knit shirt so he caressed her skin below her bra strap. The position pressed her against his groin, which even under denim and the untucked white shirt made it clear where his thoughts were.

  When he lifted his head, his mouth was wet from hers. "If the other females here are the way you say they are, they will not want me now, because they see I am with you. Does that make you feel less angry toward
me?"

  Actually, after that kiss, she thought they were imagining their curled toes standing right in her shoes. "Your mom had some outstanding memories. You're too good at that."

  He lifted a shoulder. "Vampires and Dark Ones are very lustful creatures. Since I have both their blood, I found those memories the most fascinating, and I learned. You are the first I've practiced upon. I had no desire to touch a Dark One like this."

  "Oh." She cleared her throat. "Maybe you should block my thoughts for a while, at least while you're learning about other things. Less distracting to both of us."

  He smoothed her hair. "As you wish. For now."

  Backing away from that intense look, she took him toward an empty bench near the playground. She assumed he was following, but was surprised when he clasped her hand. Glancing over, she saw him looking toward another couple who had entered the park, strolling hand in hand. He intertwined his fingers with hers as the two lovers had and then examined the fit. That jumbling of emotions bounced against her mind, what she was beginning to recognize as his reaction when he wasn't certain exactly how to feel about something. He seemed satisfied with it, though, for he moved forward with her in that fashion.

  When Alexis sat down with him, she steadied herself. It doesn't mean anything, Alexis. He's just learning.

  It really was aggravating, to be mature far beyond her years in so many ways, and yet have the emotional yearnings of a twenty-one-year-old who'd never even had a real, romantic kiss before Dante entered her dreams. She wanted to capitulate to the fantasy, not the reality. If she was the only one who'd be hurt, she might risk it, but she had to keep her head on straight. At least until those thirty days were up.

  Renewing her resolve, she tuned in to their surroundings, and found a problem, albeit a fixable one. Communicating her intent to him so he would release her hand, she rose to amble among the adults and children. The handsome but sinister-looking stranger watching them and their offspring was making them nervous, so she made sure her angel light was dialed up to ease their worries, smiling gently as she passed by each knot of humanity. Rather than immediately returning, she leaned up against the frame of the swings to watch him.