by Judi Fennell
“Huh?”
Ah, that’d gotten her attention. She was suddenly swimming over to him, her long dark hair flowing out behind her like sea grass on the Gulf Stream. InOverHerHead.indd 56
3/20/09 1:59:50 PM
In Over Her Head
57
“If they decide to hook me, who do you think is going to look out for you? Chum? The guy can’t feed himself, let alone you. And, trust me, no other Mers are going to set themselves up as the next scapegrunts of The Council.” He grabbed her arms—because he could and because he wanted to. “Look, sweetheart, right now it looks like you’re stuck with me, but better to be stuck with me than without me.”
She was about to say something when Chum swam back into the room faster than Reel had ever seen him…
well, except for that time the tern had stuck its big, fat snoot inside the coral.
“Reel, he’s here, and I can’t stall him any longer. It’s Puffer, and you know him—not an ounce of fun in his pointy, bloated body. I tried every joke I could think of, even the old standbys. Nothing worked. He just kept getting puffier and puffier. I thought he was going to explode. Then you’ve got that mess, what with the blood and entrails, and that’s a whole other kettle of fish to worry about, and—”
“Yo. Chum. Can it. I get the message.” Reel mangled his hair again, this time with both hands, and sighed. He looked at Erica. He really didn’t want to subject her to this, but it was either The Council or Vincent, and he didn’t think The Council would demand her death, whereas Vincent certainly would.
But still, it wouldn’t be pleasant.
“Erica, we have to go. Chum’s done the best delay possible, but he’s right. Puffer isn’t one to skirt the issue.”
Chum swam over to her and said behind his raised pectoral, “Yeah, he’s overcompensating for something, methinks. Likes to be the big guy, ya know?” He flicked InOverHerHead.indd 57
3/20/09 1:59:50 PM
Judi Fennell
58
his tail. “Come on folks, time’s a-wastin’—and you know how your dad doesn’t like to be kept waiting.”
Which was one of a whole list of the things his father didn’t like about him.
InOverHerHead.indd 58
3/20/09 1:59:50 PM
Chapter 8
Erica was going to scream.
It was rising in her throat, her limbs were getting all shaky like they always did whenever she attempted to walk farther offshore, and that pinching started again over her left eyebrow—
Steady. Calm. Breathe in. Breathe out. Yeah, right. Breathe. Ha. Good one. More like, gulp in, expel. Gulp in, expel.
Erica tried not to lose it as they were charioted away from Reel’s home. He’d pulled out an odd, shield-looking thing made of semi-transparent squid mantle stretched over a set of shark jaws (yeah, that was comforting) and harnessed two blue marlins to it—marlins!—then wrapped one arm around her waist, plastering her against his chest, abdomen, and lower portions, did that clicking thing again, and they were off at the speed of, well, marlins. The fish with long spear-like projections where their noses should be. She’d seen the damage those bills had done to boats when someone hadn’t managed to reel them in properly, and now here she was, swimming behind two of the billfish.
But that wasn’t what was going to make her scream. It was the thousands of fish lining their route behind a trail of bioluminescent angler fish, as if they were on parade. Fish of all sizes. Some she recognized; others InOverHerHead.indd 59
3/20/09 1:59:50 PM
Judi Fennell
60
she thought she did and really didn’t want to; and then there were the ones she knew she didn’t want to. Bull sharks, swordfish, mako… all keeping watch for the moment Reel let her go. She knew it.
And she’d been worried about Joey’s gun. She wriggled against Reel, and he clamped his arm more firmly around her. Let him make of that what he wanted—she didn’t care. At least it kept the scream at bay. Not that anyone would hear a scream at fifty miles per hour.
Chum wriggled in her arms. He’d asked to tag along since he couldn’t hope to keep pace with a full-grown Mer on a mission. Chum had explained how he’d lost his suction cap, so attaching to the chariot, for lack of a better word, was out of the question.
“Hey, Erica!” Chum… yelled. Apparently they could communicate, although his voice was more a vibration against her chest than sound in her ears. Which, considering her ears were full of water, shouldn’t be all that surprising. Hell, considering the last few days, nothing should be surprising anymore. Including a talking, suckerless remora.
“What?”
“Don’t worry. Reel’s not going to die. Yet.”
“Well, there’s some comfort.” She didn’t know how to do the vibration talking so she opted for the old-fashioned way. It was odd to hold a conversation with water streaming in her mouth, but no more so than talking into the wind. Still… odd.
“What I mean is, his dad’s certainly not going to order his execution. What kind of father would do that? Not that he’s the typical father, but…” He shook his little, InOverHerHead.indd 60
3/20/09 1:59:51 PM
In Over Her Head
61
bald, scarred head. “It isn’t going to be pretty, that’s for sure. You see, the thing is, Reel’s… well… he’s kind of a rebel, and his dad—”
“You do know I can hear you, right?” Reel’s voice rumbled through his chest and into hers. That it also rumbled through other areas in a pleasant way wasn’t lost on her.
“Well, I just wanted to let her know she didn’t have anything to worry about.”
“And if you believe that, you don’t know Fisher very well.”
“Fisher?” Erica asked. “Is he your dad?”
“Yeah.”
That “yeah” kind of purred at the end. Or was that her? “Well, that explains your name. Do you have any other siblings beside Rod?”
“Three sisters. Pearl, Angel, and Mariana.”
“A jewel, a fish, and a trench. Boy, your parents didn’t have much imagination, did they?”
“I could let you get to The Council meeting on your own.”
“Oh, right. Sorry. Lovely names.”
Time passed. How much, she couldn’t be sure. Which was a good thing, since she wasn’t particularly looking forward to the upcoming tête-à-tête. The two marlins hung a left to head toward a rise in the ocean floor. That she could see the rise in the dark, murky Atlantic still freaked her out—along with the water-breathing, vibration-talking, and just plain hanging out with Aquaman.
“Why are we stopping? Are we there?” she asked.
“We need fresh fish,” Reel answered.
InOverHerHead.indd 61
3/20/09 1:59:51 PM
Judi Fennell
62
Erica almost swallowed her tongue. They were going to eat the people, er, fish who’d just been watching them parade by? No way. That ulva whatever was looking better by the minute. “Please tell me you’re kidding.”
The marlin on the right slowed then dipped below her, the lance on the front of his face about ten inches from her stomach. “Unless you’d prefer to face the rigors of the cold at a tenth of our speed, I’d suggest you keep your suggestions to yourself, landlubber.”
Reel yanked the marlin’s tether. “That will be all, Galahad. You’ll treat her with the same respect you show my sisters.”
“She isn’t worthy of Chumley Masticar’s sisters, let alone yours, sir,” Galahad grumbled as he resumed his place next to the other one—who was shooting her a big, non-blinking Evil Eye through the squid mantle.
“I won’t tell you again, Galahad. Nor you, Lancelot. I’ll go right to Hermes and Poseidon.” Reel hugged her tighter to him. “Sorry about that, Erica. They lost family members to fishing boats, so they aren’t inclined to care about Humans.”
She was still processing the Camelot and Greek mythological refer
ences, when suddenly a big, ugly bull shark swam too far into Reel’s personal space for her comfort.
“So, Sir Reel, are they going to put her in the trench or hook her on the mast?” The shark stretched his mouth wide in what she supposed was a grin, but the backwash emanating from deep in his gut just made it gross.
“Sir Reel? You have got to be kidding,” she snorted, forgetting she should be humoring her taxi driver. “This whole thing is surreal.”
InOverHerHead.indd 62
3/20/09 1:59:51 PM
In Over Her Head
63
Reel’s grip tightened. “Sir Reel. Get used to it.” He relaxed his hold and turned to the big ugly monster with ninety-million teeth. “Neither, Ted, so go find some flotsam or something. I told you. No one gets a Human in my waters. Go find Rod. He’ll let you tear someone apart to your heart’s content.” He hied Galahad and Lancelot away from Ted.
“Thanks. That guy was giving me the creeps,” she said.
“No problemo. ” Reel clicked his tongue, and the two marlins put on a big burst of speed toward the rise. Rounding it, she saw a… well… it looked like a horse stable made out of elkhorn coral. The marlins descended toward one of the openings then stopped, hovering a few inches off the sandy bottom. An octopus slithered out the doorway. Lovely.
Said octopus emitted a few puffs of sand, some of which might have been sneezes, while Reel conversed right back at him. Not the nicest sounding language, to be sure, but it got the job done.
While she stretched her legs, the cephalopod quickly unharnessed the two marlins, called out to his (assis- tant?) octopi to take them into the coral structure, and had two more marlins led out and reharnessed to the chariot. Ah, fresh fish. Like fresh mounts in the days of the Old West.
Reed had said The Council meeting was near Bermuda. She’d figured on a few days of travel, but seeing this system, she wasn’t so sure. “How long is it going to take us to get there?” she asked as Chum got situated again in her arms and she in Reel’s, while trying to ignore the tingle that sprang to life as her skin met his.
InOverHerHead.indd 63
3/20/09 1:59:51 PM
Judi Fennell
64
Why was she getting tingles? Guys were off the radar at the moment. Joey had seen to that.
“ ’Bout two more changes of fish ought to do it, although we tend to slow down when we aren’t on the ventway.”
“Ventway?”
“A hydrothermal vent is a crack in the earth’s surface that emits heated water. The Mid-Atlantic Ridge is one of those vents. Bermuda started on that ridgeline, although it’s moved over time.”
“Oh. Okay. That clears that up.” One question out of about, oh, a million.
“Ready?” Reel kicked his legs; his groin—an interestingly hard and pokey groin—pressed against her butt and, just like that, took her mind off those other 999,000-plus questions.
But, unfortunately, even while that “hard and pokey”
thing was sending delicious signals up her nerve endings, the ones they were sending to her brain were not so delicious. Pokey parts aside, he lived under the sea. With a race of people who, at the end of this journey, were going to decide if she lived or not. Beneath the sea. Forever.
“Reel?” she asked. “What am I supposed to do? What should I say? Do I bow? Curtsey? What? I’m feeling like a fish out of wa… uh, I’m a bit out of my element here.”
Reel flipped her over so she was floating on her back in his arms. The movement startled her into releasing Chum. The little guy was a trouper, though, as he grabbed the first thing passing his way—the tie to her bikini top.
Reel bent his head, his ebony hair highlighting the almost bottle-green of his eyes, just as Chum’s weight InOverHerHead.indd 64
3/20/09 1:59:51 PM
In Over Her Head
65
undid the bow. Luckily, water pressure kept it firmly plastered to her breast.
“You don’t have to do anything, Erica,” Reel answered, completely unaware of the precariousness of her top. “They won’t expect you to, and frankly, they’ll probably be ticked if you do. You’re not supposed to be here, so don’t be. Just stand there quietly and try to hide your legs.” He pushed her arms’ length from him.
“Pity your suit is so skimpy. We should find a kelp bed for some cover.”
Oh, his eyes were doing enough covering. Especially when he caught sight of the floating bikini tie. He was warming her quite nicely, too. And that mention of a bed wasn’t even going to be considered.
Okay, now she was truly out of her mind to even think about going to bed with a water-breather. But he does have the necessary parts. Reel cleared his throat. “My father will be there. He’ll be the big guy behind the table. Then there are Charley, Nigel, Santos, Thorsson, and Henri. Possibly my brother, if they can tear him away from his colony. The esteemed Oceanic Council. My father and his cronies, ready to vilify the dissolute son.”
“Sounds like you’ve got issues.”
He shook the hair out of his eyes and looked forward.
“You have no idea.”
“Why?”
He looked back, his now-mossy eyes narrowed. “I don’t want to go into it. It’s ancient history. Literally. Suffice it to say, I’m persona non grata where my father’s concerned, and this calling me to account is what he’s always feared.”
InOverHerHead.indd 65
3/20/09 1:59:51 PM
Judi Fennell
66
“Feared?”
Reel’s laugh was not amused. “How would you like it if your sad excuse for a two-legged son, descended from gods, couldn’t accept their rulings? If that son found every way, in your opinion, to bend and twist the rulings to his own advantage? If the only familial dialogue to pass between father and son was a challenge at every turn? And now that son has done the forbidden.”
He flipped her back over so fast she got a bit seasick. Her top settled over the general vicinity of her breasts.
“Of the five of us, I’m the biggest disappointment to my father. He’s got Rod, the golden child, and three obedient daughters. Reel’s just The Spare. And not a very good one at that. Zeus forbid anything happen to Rod, because then Reel the Tail-less Rebel would have to step in to keep up the family name. And that just kills ol’ Fisher.”
The bitterness in his tone had her turning herself back around. “I’m lost. Besides turning me, which is new, what else have you done that’s so bad? And why does the lack of a tail make a difference?”
She did not just ask that…
He opened his mouth to say something, then shut it. The water flowed aerodynamically over the chariot (and if that wasn’t an oxymoron, she didn’t know what was), the only sound a gentle whoosh from an exhalation. The muscles in his jaws clenched. He swallowed again and shook his head.
“The tail thing is just a reminder of what a loser he created. Mortal and powerless. Throw in the fact that I don’t bow down to him as the almighty head of the seas and, yeah, you can say there are issues.”
InOverHerHead.indd 66
3/20/09 1:59:51 PM
In Over Her Head
67
“But can’t—”
“You know, Sir Reel, I did ask you to not swim ahead of me.” Puffer poked his bloated head out of the mouth of another marlin that raced up from behind them. “I have been charged with the duty of bringing you in, er, to The Council meeting, and I would appreciate it if you would respect my orders. Just because Tetraodontidae are smaller than Mers doesn’t mean we should be disregarded.” His pectoral fins were flapping so maniacally Erica thought they might detach.
“See? Told you he was overcompensating,” Chum said around the bikini tie still clenched between his teeth.
Reel jerked on the tethers and the new marlins slowed, letting the chariot hang below them. “Get it out of your system, boys, while I put Erica back to rights.” He rolled her over, pulled Chum off the string,
and retied her top.
“I fail to see the necessity of bringing that… that…
remora with us,” Puffer said, descending from the marlin’s mouth.
“You got a problem with me, Puffy Boy?” Chum burst up, nose-to-nose with Puffer so fast he looked like he’d been shot from a cannon.
“Er, well, no, but I don’t recall you being mentioned in the summons from The—”
“Stick a hook in it, Puff Daddy. You know damn well Reel’s going to need an advocate in his corner before they’re done with him, and that’s what I am. So don’t start your high and mighty ‘Office of The Council’ sea horse shit with me. The only way Reel’s going to get a fair hearing is if there’s a witness. And you’re looking at him.”
InOverHerHead.indd 67
3/20/09 1:59:51 PM
Judi Fennell
68
Which pretty much shut Puffer up, gave Erica way too much to think about, and set Reel back on his mission. Complete with furrowed brow and thin lips. This ought to be fun.
She shuddered.
He felt her shudder. Just like he’d felt a few other things. Zeus, her shell-fillers were soft in that flimsy covering. It beat the shells Mer women usually wore on their chests, but, fish! did they tempt him to move his arm just a bit higher. And he so rarely resisted temptation. Where was the fun in that? It’d been damn hard to tie the covering back on her when all he’d wanted to do was let it drift to the sea bottom, turn her over, and devour them. Her shell-fillers… and other body parts. Hey, if this was going to be his last day in the sea, he should enjoy it.
Which definitely was not the mood he needed to be in when arriving at the gates of the Pearled City to face his father.
InOverHerHead.indd 68
3/20/09 1:59:52 PM
Chapter 9
She’d fallen down Alice’s rabbit hole. The entire adventure could be summed up by a hallucinogenic mushroom—which she hadn’t eaten. But the idea was growing on her.
After eight hours or so of blah gray water—extremely cold gray water in spots—a guyot here, a small trench there, and more fish than she’d ever nightmare-d about seeing, the last pair of marlins veered left under a cruise ship and descended deeper than any scuba diver ever should beneath the island of Bermuda.
