To Kill a Fae (Hollowcliff Detectives Book 1)

by C. S. Wilde

Was there any difference, though?

  Flesh was flesh. And yet, what her mother was about to do felt… wrong. Wrong enough, that in a pulse, Mera summoned the water in the ocean, letting its magic flow into her veins.

  She couldn’t understand what she was doing, but she and the ocean became one, and they were strong, and they were free. She moved her arms in oval shapes, commanding the water to form a maelstrom that pushed the human to the surface.

  Queen Ariella wasn’t expecting it, so she couldn’t stop the whirlpool that had already shot the man up, and back to his island.

  “What have you done, weakling?” her mother asked through grinding teeth.

  Whatever courage had possessed Mera vanished in an eye blink, and by the rage in the queen’s face, she might die today.

  Mother didn’t give her time to explain or beg for mercy. She shot the macabre toward her, and Mera’s blood thrashed in her own veins. She writhed underneath her own skin, being pulled in different directions from the inside out.

  She couldn’t breathe right; the pain was so grand she could barely focus. “Mommy, no!” she cried.

  It all suddenly stilled. The pain waned and Mera took in long gulps of water through her gills.

  “The next time you call me ‘mommy’ I’ll kill you.” The queen swam forward, facing Mera. “You’re lucky I want my hands dirty today.”

  Holding Mera by the neck, she punched her face. The ocean spun around her and she could barely register the next punch, and the next.

  Mother kneed her stomach next, and Mera bent over. The following hit went to her spine, then her face again.

  Mera’s frail body would soon break, but she welcomed the peace and quiet of death. No more endless beatings, no more glares of anger and contempt.

  Just… silence.

  Sharp nails ripped Mera’s chest as darkness crept through the edges of her vision. The queen went on and on, punching and clawing, until Mera couldn’t feel the strikes anymore.

  Mommy was going to kill her.

  No, mommy had already killed her.

  And then everything went black.

  Mera woke in Professor Currenter’s cave, lying in a hole carved into the stone wall of his living room. Glowing yellow algae glued to the ceiling shed dim light on her. It reminded Mera of a starry sky.

  The professor was attending to her wounds, pulling the magic from the water into glittering blue whisps of light that penetrated her cuts and bruises.

  Her tiny body didn’t hurt anymore, so he must be numbing her pain.

  “Professor?” She blinked, centering herself. “What happened? Where’s Mother?”

  The old waterbreaker laid a gentle hand on her forehead. There in the vast deep, things didn’t float so easily, so Mera could relax atop the smooth rock surface of the pod.

  His white hair was tied in a tight bun behind his head, a reminiscence of his time in the military—all male soldiers fixed their hair that way. He also wore those uncomfortable scaled fabrics Mother called pants, the cobalt scales matching the hue of his skin.

  “Don’t ever defy the queen again, Mera,” he quietly pleaded as he willed the water’s magic into her. “Promise me.”

  “But she was going to kill that human.”

  “She kills for sport. She kills for hunger. She kills and kills.” His hands shook as he cupped her cheeks. “Do not repeat your brothers and sisters’ mistake. Do not defy her, little fry. I can’t lose you, too.”

  “I had brothers and sisters?” Mera gasped.

  “It doesn’t matter now. They’re in the past.”

  Mera opened her mouth to ask a million questions, but the professor stopped her.

  “Knowing about them won’t bring them back. They’re forever gone. You’ll follow their path if you keep challenging her.”

  “But you taught me to fight for what’s right,” she countered, feeling the magic bring back her strength. “What Mommy… Mother did, wasn’t right.”

  Sorrow overcame his face. “You can’t go against her, Mera. You’re not strong enough.”

  She took that in, a bitter taste flowing down her throat. “It’s not fair.”

  “It’s the truth.”

  Crossing her arms, she sat up, leaning over her knees. He stopped willing magic into her and waited.

  “Why doesn’t she love me?”

  “The queen loves no one.” He lifted her chin gently. “But you don’t need her love to be happy, do you?”

  Mera honestly couldn’t say. Even though her existence was an unbearable string of miserable events, thanks to the queen, a silly part of her craved for the love that wasn’t there. And yet, if she had to choose between having the queen’s love or Professor Currenter’s, she would choose him every single time.

  He was her mentor, her confidant, and once Mera prayed he were her progenitor, especially after hearing rumors about his entanglement with her mother—though she had no clue what said entanglement meant, or how it generated offspring.

  Yet, when Mera asked him, he had denied it. “The queen takes what the queen wills, even if one’s preference does not lie with the opposite gender,” he’d said quietly then, his tone shaking with grief. “There’s nothing in the world I’d love more than to call you my seed, but that you are not, my dear princess.”

  In any case, Mera loved him a lot more than she did Mother—which to Queen Ariella’s own credit, wasn’t tremendously hard.

  The professor tapped his chin and narrowed his eyes at her. “You seem fit enough for one class. What do you say, little fry?”

  “Keep at it,” Professor Currenter ordered as he strolled atop the ocean’s surface.

  Today the sea was calm and placid, nearly as straight as land.

  “It’s hard!” Mera winced as she forced the water beneath her feet to push her up, while the force the Professor called gravity pulled her down. The scaled clothes that clung to her skin were sticky and uncomfortable. “Why do I have to wear this?”

  “Your mother’s best scientists came up with these bodysuits,” he reminded her. “Pray that the queen doesn’t hear you dismissing their finds.”

  “They’re silly,” she grumbled. “I’m much more comfortable naked.”

  “Aren’t we all? But this fabric helps tone your muscles, and it eases your breathing on the surface.” He pointed to her round ears and the pinkish hue taking over her skin. “We’ve been up for an hour, and you didn’t need to spit out water once in order to breathe air. That’s truly remarkable, is it not?”

  She hated admitting it, but it was.

  “The bodysuits also help us move with ease up here, since the gravity above water is considerably stronger.” He patted his own scaled pants. “All in all, not a bad invention.”

  “If you say so,” she muttered under her breath. “But why do I have to learn to walk on water? It’s pointless! We live underneath.”

  “We do, but this is part of your waterbending training.” He put both hands behind his back. “Now, surprise me, little fry.”

  How? She could barely keep standing!

  Her head pounded, and her body strained from the effort. This was the price of using magic for too long. Professor Currenter said she had to get used to it, but Poseidon in the trenches, it was hard.

  Mera lost her balance, but by waterbending a tiny jet underneath her feet, she quickly regained it.

  Fine, then.

  Stretching her arm forward, she summoned a small pillar of water. It swirled up to her palm, bending into curvy shapes. A dolphin, a starfish, then a turtle.

  Mera giggled.

  “Good,” Professor Currenter praised, his stand unwavering atop the ocean’s surface. “Control the tiny parts that make the water what it is. Slow down that which makes the liquid.”

  Mera nodded. The line began solidifying into ice.

  “Perfect. You can bend water well enough. Now, bend my blood.”

  “No!” The ice shattered into pieces that plonked down below, then floated back to the
surface. “The macabre scares me.”

  “You must learn it nonetheless.” He tapped his chest, and even though his pinkish skin was slightly flabby, his muscles worn, Mera could spot the mighty soldier he must have been once. “Come on. We don’t have all day.”

  It seemed she didn’t have a choice.

  Blood was water, so the macabre wasn’t much different from waterbending. The only problem was, Professor Currenter’s blood, much like Mera’s, had magic, and magic fought back against foreign commands.

  She wiggled her fingers, feeling the blood coursing through his veins.

  “Good. Control it.”

  Nodding, she tried to speed up the flow, but his vital fluids didn’t follow her command.

  He was blocking her.

  “Will you teach me how to block another’s macabre?” Mera asked quietly, the memory of Mother’s cruelty still fresh in her mind.

  “Soon, my princess. In the meantime, keep trying to break through my barrier.”

  She frowned and pushed, but she couldn’t get her ability to work, until the power inside her noticed a presence in the distance, like a shark catching the scent of blood. That presence, unlike the professor, wouldn’t put up a fight.

  The wild force inside her jolted into the horizon, and soon found what it’d been looking for.

  Nightbringer.

  Panic set in Mera’s stomach, but the macabre pushed itself forward, taking a life of its own. She felt the hearts of every landrider in that ship, the flow of their blood. Most didn’t have magic, so they were easy prey.

  Slowly, she lost her sense of self, her sense of being. It was just the macabre and her; they were one and the same. How interesting it was, to hold so many lives in the palm of her hand.

  Was this what Mommy—no, Mother—felt during the hundreds of times she’d tried to kill her?

  It wasn’t unpleasant, really.

  Mera remembered the times she’d watched Nightbringers sail from above. The horror at the sight of their sharp harpoons, the spiked hulls that glinted under moonlight, heralding the coming of death. Her mother didn’t want to alert landriders to Atlantean technology, which meant her people couldn’t fight back.

  So they hid. They hid as much as they could. And sometimes, it wasn’t enough.

  The islanders were innocent, but landriders from the continent were far from that.

  One command.

  It was all it took.

  Mera would pull strings; strings that connected her to every single creature in that ship. Some would choke on their own blood, others might explode from the inside out, and few might survive—if they were strong enough.

  Professor Currenter watched her carefully, his arms crossed. “You are your mother’s daughter.”

  A sword piercing through her chest would have hurt less. Mera blinked, realizing what she’d nearly done.

  She stepped back on the water and released those blood-soaked strings, praying to Poseidon she’d never hold them again.

  “First rule of the macabre, dear,” Professor Currenter warned. “Don’t let it control you.”

  “I-I wouldn’t,” she told herself. “I couldn’t!”

  “You nearly did.” A rush of water beneath his feet pushed him toward her, and he laid a hand over her shoulder. “But you chose not to, little fry. That’s what truly matters.”

  “Professor, I didn’t mean to—”

  “Your choices define you, Mera. The macabre is a mighty power, that if used without reproach can consume its wielder. So be careful.”

  “Did it consume the queen?” she blurted, not knowing where the thought had originated. “Is that why she lusts for death and misery, every minute of every day?”

  “Poseidon’s gifts are strong in the Wavestorm bloodline.”

  That was all he said.

  She lowered her head. “Will you help me control these… gifts?”

  Smiling, he lifted her chin softly. “I will show you how to control them yourself. How about that?”

  Mera couldn’t thank him enough. Professor Currenter was the light in her darkness, the only being in the entire world who cared for her.

  Tears trickled down her cheeks as she wrapped her arms around him and cried. No, she sobbed.

  “I don’t know what I’d do without you,” Mera croaked, fearing for things she couldn’t quite understand, things that might never happen.

  “My dear princess.” He bent over and hugged her, patting her head. “Hush now. I’ll always be here, right beside you.”

  But the old waterbreaker shouldn’t have made promises he couldn’t keep.

  Chapter 16

  Mera took a small wooden bowl filled with a green paste, and submerged a cloth into it, dabbing the mixture gingerly onto Bast’s left eye. The spot was swollen and purpling, but according to him, the paste would make it go away in a matter of hours.

  “Stella’s secret recipe,” he’d explained.

  Mera applied the remedy methodically while silence hung around them, heavy as lead.

  Bast stared straight ahead, his brow slightly creased with annoyance. “Stop judging me,” he finally grumbled.

  “I’m not.”

  “Yes, you are.” He lowered her hand, searching for something in her eyes. “I had to kill him, Mera.”

  “No, you didn’t.” She put down the bowl and the cloth on the coffee table, near the med kit she’d opened the moment they’d returned to the house. “The assassin wasn’t a threat, not after you broke his arms and cut his ears.”

  Her throat knotted at the memory of the dagger piercing through his neck.

  They could’ve talked about their options before Bast killed the fae. Before he grabbed the body and flew away without warning.

  They could’ve discussed it the moment he came back to the house late at night, or as he prepared the paste that Mera was applying to his wounds. But no. He was only ready to talk now.

  Prick.

  Bast grumbled a curse and turned away, staring at the wall. “You don’t know what you’re talking about. Injured or not, he was dangerous. He had magic, and he would never stop. He said so himself. I couldn’t risk him hurting you.”

  “Don’t pin this on me, partner.”

  He stared at her, his blue eyes shining with childlike wonder, his tantalizing lips slightly open, almost like he didn’t believe what she’d said. It took Mera a moment to realize she’d never called Bast “partner” to his face, and actually meant it.

  Maybe she was wrong, or going crazy, but admitting it aloud seemed to make him happy. If that was the case, she’d always call him partner. Even if she was still mad at him.

  “You are my partner, kitten,” he agreed. “It’s why I couldn’t run the risk. Besides, he was a dead fae walking.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Assassins like him are magically tied to the bounty. If he didn’t finish his task, the magical bind would consume him in a few weeks.”

  Mera shuddered as she remembered waterbreakers dissolving into ashes when they crossed into the forbidden zone.

  Sure, both bounty hunters had attacked first, and maybe killing the second one had been a mercy, but ending their lives was wrong, nonetheless.

  Even if it meant saving Bast’s and her own?

  Taking the bowl, she pushed his chest back onto the sofa, slamming his upper body against the padded surface. “Remove your shirt.”

  A grin spread on his lips and he promptly unbuttoned what remained of the fabric. He tossed it aside and crossed both arms behind his neck, showing her his strong biceps. “When Danu gives, one does not ask why.”

  Mera rolled her eyes and dipped the cloth into the bowl. As much as she loved admiring the hard shapes of his body, the circle of red flesh in the middle of his torso glared back at her.

  Bast acted as if it was no big deal, but he had to be in serious pain.

  When she dabbed the paste atop the wound, his body went stiff. He hissed through his teeth, his hands dropping to hi
s sides and closing into fists.

  She stopped, watching him with worry, but he nodded in a go-ahead.

  “You can’t just kill people,” she chided, continuing their conversation. “You’re a detective. If we don’t follow the code, we’re no better than the criminals we’re trying to catch.”

  She sounded like the Cap, and a sense of pride took over, but then Mera remembered that her human façade was nothing more than a shell. That she shouldn’t forget her true nature, and who her true mother was.

  ‘Never!’ She and her siren agreed.

  “The guy and the witch tried to kill me,” Bast reminded as she applied the remedy, his muscles clenched in pain. “It was self-defense.”

  “Bullshit.” Slowly, his body relaxed. Either he was getting used to the pain, or he couldn’t feel it anymore. “If that helps you sleep at night, then whatever. Consider yourself a freaking saint, Bast.”

  “Hmm, never been called one of your saints before.” He scratched his chin. “I could get used to this.”

  “Dickwart,” she grumbled under her breath.

  Mera kept dabbing at the big wound until the mixture covered all of it Grabbing a strip of gauze from the med kit on the coffee table, she began wrapping it around his torso.

  “It’s not just the fact you killed him, Bast,” she said, ignoring how close they were as she wrapped the gauze. “It’s how you killed him.”

  He shrugged. “Extreme times, extreme measures.”

  “Is Captain Asherath aware of your extreme measures? Does he agree?”

  “I haven’t been able to contact him yet, but I guess he would,” he spoke without a hint of doubt.

  “Who’s Karthana?” She secured the ends of the gauze with an adhesive strip, finishing her work. “The faerie mentioned Karthana’s vision put the bounty on your head.”

  Bast had become a different fae after hearing that name.

  He hunched over his knees, hands intertwined. He winced, having forgotten the huge wound on his stomach, but didn’t lean back. “She was my betrothed, once.”

  Blood drained from Mera’s face. Her heart stopped. “You’re freaking married?”

  “I called off the engagement before I came to the continent.” He gave her a sideways grin. “No need to be jealous.”