by P. Jameson
Right now, he was neither. And he was about to be fish food.
Fight. Fight.
A warrior never dies easy. He doesn’t breathe his last breath, he uses it to make war.
Huran cranked his body, using his muscular abs to thrash against the serpent’s fangs. Pain shot like lightning up his back, but he repeated the motion, desperate to get free. If he was going to die, he would do it on the bank where someone would find him, and his mate would know.
One last wrench that left the water dark with his blood, and he was free of the serpent’s hold. He rushed for the grotto opening and when he was through, he broke the surface of the water, gasping for air. Beyond the crevice he heard the serpent’s furious wail and the splash of its fins.
Groaning, Huran pulled himself up on a rock, to inspect his tail.
Shit. He was… he was hurt.
His legs didn’t reappear like they usually did when his fin hit dry land. The thing was mangled, scales missing, flesh hanging in silvery strips. And so much blood. More than he’d spilled on battlefields long ago.
He collapsed to the rock, head spinning. He was going to die out here. Fuck. The gods had given him a new life, a second chance with his snuppa, and he’d thrown it away, unable to let go of things he could no longer do anything about.
He’d wanted to be better for her, but now…
“What the… Huran?”
The voice was familiar, and heavy footsteps accompanied it. Huran blinked, trying to remain conscious.
“Huran, you sorry bastard. What the fuck is this?”
“Jase.” His throat barely worked around the word as the man’s face came into his vision, interrupting the view of the gray sky above.
Jase scowled. “You have a fucking tail. Or… at least you did.”
“I know.” Jase was a keeper of Mer lore and mated to a former shieldmaiden. So, he knew what the tail meant. What wouldn’t make sense was that a mated Mer still had one. Not to mention that it was shredded all to hell.
“You have a fucking tail.”
“I know,” Huran snarled.
“How? You’re mated.”
“Are you going to help, or let me bleed out on this rock?”
Jase pressed his lips together, and actually looked worried. Shit.
“Yeahhh, I guess I’m gonna help you.”
Huran closed his eyes and tried to open them again, hoping they weren’t closing for the last time.
“You were there for me when I needed help with my shieldmaiden,” Jase murmured. “But I say after this, we’re even. What do ya say, big guy?” Jase’s voice was getting farther and farther away. “Come on, man. Stay with me.”
The last thing Huran heard before the silence was Jase on the phone. “Hey, Sheriff. North Shore grotto. We have a problem.”
***
Christienne ran down the halls of the clinic trying to keep the tears from falling. Huran was hurt. The Sheriff said that he was found on the North Shore badly damaged. What did that mean? And she couldn’t help the boulder that formed in her gut at the words North Shore.
Huran had returned to the lake again.
It was only a week since she’d seen him shift into his Mer form and disappear beneath the water. She had almost convinced herself that she’d been seeing things that day. Almost. But this was the reminder she needed.
He was still hiding things from her. Still sneaking off to the deep. Still keeping himself from her.
At the nurse’s station, she gave his name and was ushered down a long hallway. Just outside the room, the sheriff stood talking to Jase. He was a Mer-mate to Vada, a warrior who had lived beneath the lake with Huran. Good guy, but right now he looked like hell. Blood covered his clothes and hands. His hair was disheveled and when he noticed her, he clamped down the worried expression he wore.
“Christienne.” Sheriff Holmes turned to her and put his big hand on her shoulder. The man was older than her by a couple decades and had always seemed like a second father. He was a Keeper of Mer-lore and helped the cursed whenever their secret was at risk of being discovered. “First of all, I need to tell you he’s okay. Gotta get that out there fast because you look like you’re about to keel over, hun.”
She stared at Jase with eyes that were too wide. “Is that Huran’s blood.”
Jase pressed his lips together and lowered his gaze to the floor without an answer.
“That’s… that’s a lot of blood.”
“It is,” Sheriff Holmes agreed quietly. “But it could have been worse.”
“Worse.” The word fell from numb lips. “Wh-what happened?”
“I was at the North Shore grotto. Supposed to meet Vada out there. I found him on the rocks,” Jase said, his voice low. “We think the serpent got him.”
“The serpent,” she hissed.
“Now, we ain’t quite sure. Could have been caught on the rocks… some rough water…” The sheriff let his excuses roll away as if he knew they were bullshit.
Christienne knew all about the serpent who guarded the deep. He protected the Mer and their sunken ship from any that would do it harm. So…
“Why would it attack Huran?”
Sheriff Holmes gave her a funny look and then exchanged a curious glance with Jase. “A mated Mer has no business in that part of the lake,” he murmured gently. “But you know that.”
Too late, she realized her mistake. Of course the beast would attack Huran… unless he could shift… which she wasn’t supposed to know about.
Jase leaned in. “You know about the tail, don’t you?”
Christienne nodded, feeling the wetness of tears on her cheeks but ignored them.
Jase cursed and stepped back to pace the small area behind the sheriff.
“What does it mean?” she asked. “Why would he be able to shift after we… we…”
“I don’t know,” Sheriff Holmes answered. “But when he came to, in the ambulance, he threatened Jase’s life if he told you.”
Of course he did. Because he didn’t want her to know. So what’s an ancient warrior to do? Why, toss out threats of bodily harm, naturally.
Christienne dashed the tears from her cheeks. “Well, you’re safe. Because I already knew.”
Jase scoffed, looking annoyed. Or concerned. Both. “I was never worried about myself. Just…” He looked at the sheriff and then back at Christienne. “Aw, fuck it. Why the hell is he keeping shit like this from you?”
Humiliation burned her cheeks making her tears feel cool.
“Jase,” Sheriff Holmes warned.
“It’s fucking dangerous,” Jase snapped, “being out there without anyone knowing, tail or not. He’s a land dweller now, and he can’t be going back to the deep for kicks.”
For kicks? Is that what Huran was doing? Was he meeting someone in the lake?
Christienne’s stomach heaved at the idea, and she tried to push her despair down. She had to keep her composure.
“I’d be furious if I found out Vada still had a fin… swam near the North Shore without me. I’d go fucking crazy—”
She felt like she was nearly there.
“Can I see him?” she blurted just to get Jase to stop.
Sheriff Holmes nodded. “He was sleeping, but he’s going to be fine. The tail disappeared before the ambulance got there, leaving just his wounded legs. They looked… well, they looked bad enough that Henry the EMT called ahead for emergency surgery. The bleeding had stopped by the time we got here and I had to give Dr. Bean some false details to explain why he was healing so fast.”
“What did you tell her?”
The sheriff’s guilty expression made her heart lurch. “Told her Henry was exaggerating. Adrenaline will make ya do that, you know? That kind of thing.”
She knew he must hate lying to keep the secret. The sheriff was an honest man.
“Thank you,” she whispered.
He nodded once. “I knew what I was getting into when I became a Keeper. Comes with the territory.”
Maybe so, but Christienne would be forever grateful that people like him and Jase and Miggs were looking out for the cursed.
She found Jase and her heart gave another lurch at his haggard face and blood-stained clothes. “Thank you for finding him. If you hadn’t—” a sob slipped past her throat and he pulled her into a loose hug.
“Never mention it again. You know I think of him like a brother.” He leaned back to look her in the eye. “And that makes you my sister. Listen, I know that big oaf loves the hell outta you. Don’t let him keep his secrets from the one who matters most to him. Because hell, Christy, there’s nothing lonelier than that.”
No one knew that better than her. No one.
Chapter Five
Huran came awake to the sound of soft crying. For a moment, he couldn’t remember where he was or what had happened, but he recognized the sound of his mate. Something made her sad. He should kill it, whatever it was. Mate should never sound like this.
He wrestled his eyes open and saw only dull florescent light coming from somewhere far enough away that it painted the ceiling a dark gray. He turned toward the sound of his mate but couldn’t see her face for the blinking machine that was right next to his head.
What the fuck.
Where was he?
“Huran?” she said weakly, and he followed the lilt of her voice until he found her tear-soaked face.
“Snuppa… what is wrong?”
Her face crumbled as she lowered it into her hands, and when it did, the events of the night came rushing back to him.
Diving to the deep.
The serpent’s interference.
Swimming for his life.
Pain, despair, the grotto.
Jase, the sheriff, the ambulance.
Fuck. He was in the hospital. His Christy must have been so worried.
“I’m okay,” he rasped, clearing his voice to make it stronger. “Already healing. My body is doing its job, snuppa. Don’t worry.”
She shook her head, tears flicking from her jaw at the motion. “Don’t worry? How am I supposed to not worry?”
Huran reached out to thumb the remaining tears away. He threaded his fingers in her hair, pressing the tips against her scalp. She liked when he did that. Said it relaxed her. But all it did now was make her look at him with a hopeless expression he never wanted to see again.
Hopeless. Did mate feel it. Like they were doomed? Is that what his visits to the lake, his secrets had done to their bond?
Shit.
“Come here.”
She hesitated, but only for a moment, before she carefully climbed into the hospital bed beside him and laid her head on his chest. He slid his hand back into her hair, desperate to soothe her.
“I don’t like your tears, mate,” he whispered against her temple.
“I know. They are a weakness. But you scared me.”
Huran frowned at her. “Tears might be a weakness for some, but not you. Yours are the evidence of your heart. I don’t like them because they mean you’re upset. They mean I upset you.” He sighed. “If anything, it shows my weakness.”
“Are you in pain? The sheriff said you were badly injured and…” her voice cut out “… I saw the blood. There was a lot of blood, Huran—”
“No. No pain.” It was true. His body was healing fast, as it always would, even without the tail. “Just a little tired, but I don’t want to sleep. I want to…” What did he want? He wanted to fix things. To make her better, make himself better. He had no idea how. “I’m sorry the sheriff scared you. A little time, and you wouldn’t have even known how bad the injury was.”
Christienne stiffened in his arms. “You’re right. I wouldn’t have known. Another secret between us.”
Huran found her eyes. “What do you mean?”
She lowered her gaze, sadness making her forehead crease. “Are we… I have your scales marked on my body. That means something, right?”
“Of course.” It meant a hell of a lot.
When her gaze came back up, there was so much pain in her eyes it made his stomach clench with regret the likes of which he hadn’t felt in hundreds of years. “If we are true mates…”
“We are,” he said, his voice hard.
“… then why do you hide so much from me? Why don’t you trust me? Why are there so many secrets?”
“Christy…” His mouth fished open and shut grasping for something to explain but there was nothing.
“When we first met you were less distant than you are now. How can that be? Shouldn’t we be growing closer, not farther apart?”
“Growing apart?” Her words felt like a kick in the gut. “Is that what’s happening?”
“Don’t you feel it, Huran?”
He swallowed hard. He knew things were dicey but he’d been handling it.
Hadn’t he?
He thought of the broken look in his mate’s eyes every time he spilled outside her body. The sadness that enveloped her when he left too soon after making love. The way she was usually asleep by the time he came home. The strange line he’d been walking, avoiding her even while keeping her close. In the beginning they’d been so finely in tune that this must seem… to her, this must seem…
Well, her eyes said it all. She thought they were coming to an end.
Shit.
He grappled for words but his stupid lips just flapped up and down silent as a winter night.
Her eyes filled with new tears. “Are we… are we… broken?” The word left her throat all achy and full of desperation. She needed an answer, but he couldn’t give her one. All he could do was drag her against his chest with the same desperation. He pressed a hard kiss to her head as emotion overtook him.
He didn’t know if they were broken or how much damage had been done, but he knew one thing. He would fix it. All of it. He would find a way to be one with his mate again if it was the last thing he ever did.
Because he couldn’t lose her. He couldn’t lose another person he loved. One lifetime of heartache and regret was enough.
***
Christienne let the tears slip from her eyes onto Huran’s chest until they dried up on their own. He hadn’t denied there was something wrong between them, and for some reason that gave her hope. He didn’t lie. He didn’t make excuses. It shouldn’t surprise her. Excuses weren’t Huran’s style. Excuses were for weaker men than hers.
She fell asleep to the brush of his palm on her back, knowing they wouldn’t work things out overnight. What she didn’t expect was another of those vivid dreams she’d been having lately.
This time, it was the same scene from the night the warriors were cursed. Except it picked up where the last one left off. The ship was sunk, the serpent prowled the waters, and the people fumbled with their new bodies, some horrified at the tails and scales, others intrigued.
Her attention was drawn to Huran as he awkwardly made his way through the water, trying to keep his head above it. Being new to his Mer body, he must not have known he could breathe underwater yet.
She zeroed in on his expression. The hard cut planes of his face were drawn in concern and fury. He called out, but whatever he said was muted to her ears. Not from the wind or waves. It was like before with the part of the vision that had holes in it. This time the part missing was Huran’s voice. Just his voice.
Christienne squinted through the fog, trying to read his lips when he called out again. Whoever he searched for didn’t answer and he swam closer to the shore, stopping several times to call out again. Still no answer as he grew more frustrated, his expression deadly.
The dream forced Christienne to follow him on his quest to search the lake. He’d lost something—someone—very important to him. Someone she didn’t know about. Another secret.
Secrets are poisonnnn, the wind seemed to whisper. I would knowww, I’ve held so many.
Christienne looked at the swirling sky above her. There was nobody there, but somehow she knew the voice wasn’t just part of her
imagination.
Too smart for these fools, it purred.
“Tamsin?” Christienne called.
There was no answer, but her heart told her she dreamed of the goddess.
Your male has secrets. Just like mine did so long ago.
No. What was happening between her and Huran was different. According to legend, Bjorn, a leader among the warriors, used Tamsin for his own gain. Convinced her he loved her just to have access to the treasure beneath the lake. Huran wasn’t like him. He wasn’t using her.
So sure? In the beginning, didn’t you have something to offer him?
Christienne went still.
Didn’t you break his curse? Don’t you wear his scales?
She rubbed at the mating mark. The gleaming scales almost burned with the implication that she could have simply been a tool. “Yes. I’m his mate. The curse only breaks if there is true love.”
True. A gust of wind circled Christienne’s head making the hair of her arms stand on end. But I’ve been around long enough to see that true love doesn’t always last. Every so often one of these warriors can’t let go, can’t be happy, and they lose it alllll.
“No.”
But Christienne knew the wind spoke truth. She thought of Jase. His family was descended from the great warriors who lived beneath the water. His grandfather was even from the same Old World village as Huran. The man mated a land-dweller, broke his curse, and still wasn’t happy. A womanizer and drunkard, he was known to be. He hurt a lot of people in his time, including his fated mate. Scales or no, true love didn’t win that time.
Maybe it wouldn’t for her and Huran either.
“No!” she screamed to the wind, but it only whipped and wailed, ignoring her pleas.
“Christy?” Huran’s voice cut through the sound and she realized she was in the water instead of floating above it. He called to her from across a great distance. “You can’t be in the lake, it’s dangerous. I’ve already lost—” His voice went silent on the last word and only his lips moved.
