In Over Her Head

by Judi Fennell

  “Let’s just say that Ceto has tried for more than friendly neighbor status between us, and it’s been a bit dicey to keep her at arms’ length.”

  “And you’re telling me this now because…?”

  The black doors swung open toward them. “Look, just whatever you do, don’t take off the actinia. ” He dropped one of her arms and turned back to face the doorway as the barracudas fanned out behind them.

  “Let’s do this.”

  The black doors closed behind them with a soft thunk. Lazy whirlpools rippled around them as the current was forced from its normal flow.

  Ceto had never closed the doors when he’d visited before.

  Carlos hadn’t been kidding. She knew why they’d come. She knew what they wanted. She was not going to give it to them.

  And he was not going to give her Erica. Which was why he’d taken the actinia precaution. No matter what it meant for him personally. InOverHerHead.indd 140

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  Good thing Erica didn’t have a clue or she wouldn’t be accompanying him so agreeably.

  They skirted Ceto’s Monument to Human Stupidity, as she called it. A sculpture of a rusted anchor on a pedestal, grappling hook, fishing rods, other salvages…

  memories of her heyday, in all likelihood. Erica’s eyes widened, and he heard her gulp as they passed it. Ceto’s lair was not for the faint of heart.

  “You’re doing good,” he whispered, brushing her hair forward over her ear. The actinia had retracted its blue and purple tentacles and settled down, but no need to advertise its presence yet.

  Erica’s tongue flicked out over her lips, a quick movement. One so slight he wouldn’t have noticed if he hadn’t seen it. But he had. Noticed. And remembered. Zeus! She had tasted incredible. Nothing like he’d ever experienced or thought existed. That kiss was going to go a long way in keeping him company for the next few decades if this didn’t pan out the way he wanted—

  no, needed—it to.

  Why in Hades had they rushed here? He should have taken his time—gone the marlin route. Maybe made a stop or two at one of the outlying deserted islands. But he’d heard that argument between his parents and hadn’t wanted to stay. Leaving was always easier. He still had something to prove, which pissed him off to no end. He should be beyond caring what his father thought of him.

  “I’ll take your weapons.” Carlos whizzed between them, his words softly spoken, yet there was no denying the command.

  “No way.” Erica grabbed her belt with both hands. InOverHerHead.indd 141

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  Reel touched her arm. “We have no choice, Erica. Either we leave them here, or we don’t see Ceto.”

  “So why’d we bring them in the first place? I’m not taking mine off.” She pulled one of the knives out. A passing wrasse did a U-turn and zipped back the way it’d come.

  He had to admire her spirit and bravado—even if they were misplaced at the moment.

  Carlos’s beady eyes swung his way and Reel acknowledged the threat. The rest of the barracuda were all but braying with corralled adrenaline. “Erica, leave them here. We’ll get them on the way out. Otherwise we don’t have a chance of getting what we came for.”

  Carlos didn’t help matters by smiling his ugly, toothy grin at her. Erica swallowed and an arrhythmic series of water puffs emitted from those kissable lips, but at last she offered him her back so he could unclasp her belt. He kept his fingers off her smooth skin as much as possible. Carlos was watching him like a sea hawk, and that S-O-M was an authority when it came to spotting someone’s weakness. Having given her an actinia, he’d have to be very careful what he let slip about his feelings for her. Feelings for her? His fingers fumbled over the buckle. What feelings? So he was attracted to her, big deal. She was a Human, a Land-Dweller, as Chum liked to point out. He couldn’t have feelings for her. It was curiosity, and, so, yeah, maybe she was beautiful, but that was just lust. Feelings weren’t involved with lust.

  “Hurry it up, Spare.”

  Reel gritted his teeth and stopped himself from yanking the belt off her. It wasn’t her fault he’d been distracted enough to have Carlos comment on it. InOverHerHead.indd 142

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  Well, maybe it was.

  He handed the belt to Carlos, who deposited it in a chest in the corridor. Reel slid his quiver of harpoons off his back but didn’t hand over the Mini-Covert folding knife he’d recovered from a dive site. That remained hidden in the pocket of the shorts. Ah, that was a plus over a tail and scales. A first.

  As Carlos absconded with the quiver, the water began to swirl, pulling itself apart like the Red Sea of old. A curtain of still water opened for Ceto’s grand entrance. He’d only seen this once before—the first time he’d come to her home. She’d let him know who was in charge.

  “Is that—?”

  He squeezed Erica’s hand. “That’s her.”

  “Well, well. If it isn’t Reel Tritone. With a Human. ”

  Ceto sauntered forward, shell-fillers so lush they were spilling from the sides of the Human clothing she’d elected to wear. Today, her twin tails pulsed red, orange, and gold with each sway. Malachite hair curled around her head like tentacles. It was no secret that Medusa had stolen her own hairstyle—not to mention lover—from her mother.

  Ceto flicked one long nail beneath his chin, her shellfillers brushing his chest. She’d tried that tactic before and he’d been immune. It was no different now. He gritted his teeth and resisted the urge to back away. Any sign of weakness, and Ceto would be all over him like octopus on oyster.

  “We want the diamonds.”

  Her laugh was not amused as her gaze flicked over Erica. She turned and headed into her chamber. “So I InOverHerHead.indd 143

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  gathered. What makes you think I’m going to give them to you, Reel? You presume a lot on neighborly relations.”

  “You don’t need them, and I do.”

  “You’re going to have to do better than that.” Ceto glided into the gold-lined room. She’d put up quite the fight when The Council had laid down their edict. The gold was one of the concessions.

  She slid onto a lounge chair fit for a queen, snapping her fingers to send dozens of sea creatures scurrying to do her bidding. A nautilus fluttered over with a clamshell of snacks. Ceto bit into a mussel, the splintering shell grating against Reel’s nerves.

  She took another mollusk and waved them over with two of her tail fins. He was heartened to see the bloodred had left her scales.

  “I’m sure we can come to some agreeable arrangement, Reel. Won’t you join me?”

  Erica was ready to charge forward into battle, but Reel tugged her fingers and summoned his best Hades-may-care grin when he finally got her attention. Threatening Ceto or giving in too easily wouldn’t help negotiations. He also didn’t want Erica stepping on the spotted scorpionfish who’d suddenly materialized at their feet to escort them.

  Escort—ha. Prod, direct, all but immobilize them with one of its spines. Nothing solicitous about it. But then, he hadn’t really expected there to be. Which was why he’d been on the lookout for such a sea-mine like the deadly fish.

  Ceto didn’t give up—or in—easily.

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  Chapter 17

  They settled on the ultra-modern art deco furniture from a billionaire’s yacht Ceto had taken a fancy to—both the man and the furniture. The sofa had lasted longer than he had.

  “So, sweetie,” the sea monster said, helping herself to another mussel while staring at Erica, “do you have a voice or are you as stupid as the rest of your race?”

  Erica cleared her throat and Reel was glad to see her shoulders circle bac
k. She lifted her chin. Atta girl.

  “My name’s Erica, and I’m assuming by your arrogance that you’re Ceto, the Denizen of the Deep.”

  She folded her hands in her lap, fingers intertwined. He wanted to cover them to hide her white knuckles, but that’d be too revealing.

  Ceto cackled. “Ah, you’ve got spunk. No wonder lover boy here brought you along.”

  Ceto turned her obsidian eyes back on him—as he’d expected. She had no respect whatsoever for anything on legs. Himself included. She chewed them up and spit them out every bit as easily as she did the mollusks on her plate.

  “So, Reel, you want the diamonds. Assuming I even have them, which I’m not saying I do, why would you think I’d just hand them over? Not my style.”

  “Come on, Ceto. I know you’ve got them. I’ve seen enough of your henchfishes’ work in clearing out a site InOverHerHead.indd 145

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  to recognize the signs. You don’t need those stones and we do. For the sake of our neighborly relations, as you call it, I’m asking you to give them to me.”

  “What’s in it for me?”

  “Why does there need to be something? They weren’t yours to begin with,” Erica said.

  Ceto whipped her head toward Erica, and a lightning bolt of red flashed over both tails. “Not only stupid, but ignorant as well.” She turned back to Reel with a dismissive spit of shell. “As a matter of fact, there does need to be something in it for me. I owe that esteemed Council nothing. So, they want the diamonds enough to send their pretender to the throne to beg for them. Where’s your pride, Reel? Lost it for a pair of shell-fillers?”

  Reel kept his temper in check. Nasty was Ceto’s normal state of being and it was no secret which of his buttons she’d like to push. Sleeping with The Spare was one notch on her bedpost she hadn’t earned—and wouldn’t, but that didn’t stop her from trying. No matter The Council’s collective opinion of him, having him in her clutches would give them fin rot.

  He leaned back, linking his hands behind his head.

  “It’s a bit more involved than that, Ceto. We’re on a mission from a god.”

  “Give me a break, Reel. Your father isn’t going to follow through on that death threat. Your mother would hook him in a second.” Ceto chuckled. “You gotta love that the Ruler of the Seas is scared of his wife. That’s about the only good thing your mother ever did.”

  He shrugged. Cool, that’s what he needed to be around her. Don’t let her see how much this meant. Erica’s life was at stake, never mind his own. “Let’s keep my family InOverHerHead.indd 146

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  out of this. This isn’t about them. It’s about me. You and I have always gotten along. I’m willing to trade.”

  Erica scratched her ear. He really wished she hadn’t when the actinia sprung up from its nap.

  “Hades, Reel! An actinia? ” Ceto’s eyes widened.

  “What’d your father say? I might’ve traded you the stones just to watch you spring that on him.”

  He resorted to Mermish. Erica didn’t need to know exactly what he’d done. Not yet. She’d be just one more irate female to deal with. “Hey, it’s my life.”

  Erica touched his arm. “Reel—”

  “Don’t worry about it, sweetheart. It’s easier to negotiate in our own language.”

  A speculative gleam filled Erica’s eyes. She knew something out of the ordinary was going on, but wasn’t quite sure what. He could only hope she’d follow his lead.

  “I understand wanting to tweak your father, but with her? ” Ceto’s hand flipped toward Erica. “That, I don’t understand.”

  “Seriously? With all the Humans you’ve lured down here? I don’t believe you.”

  “Pfft. Toys. They shriek too easily. Even the brawniest of them turn into whimpering children when they realize there’s no going back. Ends their usefulness real quick.”

  She scratched one of the curls that had lodged in her ear. “At least your Promised seems to have held up for, what? A week?”

  “’Bout that.”

  “Would someone kindly tell me what you’re talking about?” Erica said in very loud English, her fists balled in her lap.

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  “Sweetheart, calm down. It’s nothing. Just discussing the terms for Ceto to hand over the diamonds.”

  “Like Hades we were, Reel,” Ceto answered—in English this time. “Tell her what you’ve done. I know you haven’t. Usually when a girl gets an actinia, they’re all smiles and lightness. This one looks like she could kill a seal pup. Not that I’m adverse to that, but your kind do tend to prize those little balls of blubber.”

  “Tell me what?” Erica turned fully his way. How did he get himself in this predicament? Stuck between two angry women and The Council. All because he’d been fascinated with Erica for selinos.

  “That thing?” He flicked the actinia, eliciting another of its squeals. “It means you’re… well, mine.”

  “Yours.” Her hand sped to her ear.

  He reached it just before she ripped the creature off—or tore out her cartilage because the one thing ingrained in the small minds of actinias once they re-grounded on flesh, was not to let go. It’d take her ear with it if she yanked hard enough.

  “Don’t, Erica. Leave it alone. You’ll thank me for it later.”

  “Somehow I seriously doubt that, Reel.” Her teeth ground together with the same intensity Ceto’s had on the mussel shell. Erica’s words were just as gravelly.

  “What do you mean, yours?”

  “You’ve netted yourself a Human for the rest of your life and you didn’t even tell her.” Ceto’s chuckle rippled through her entire body, her tails blinking orange and gold in rhythm. “You’re a piece of work, Reel. Now I see why your father let them send you here.” She picked a piece of shell from between her teeth. “No big loss.”

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  “Netted? For life?” Erica wrenched her arm free.

  “Does that mean what I think it means?”

  “Calm down, sweetheart.” He tried charming. Not that it’d worked before, but maybe she’d remember where they were, what they were supposed to be doing… “The actinia gives you my protection. Stakes my claim. If anyone bothers you, they have to answer to me.”

  “Oh, God. I’ve not only gone to another world, but now I’m back in the days of chattel. God save me from knights in shining armor.” She reached back for the actinia. “I’m perfectly capable of fending for myself, Reel.”

  He couldn’t stop the groan. Ceto’s grin grew two leagues larger, and it wasn’t a friendly one.

  “Oh, really, dearie? You can take care of yourself, eh?” Ceto crooked a finger toward her henchfish.

  “Carlos, Mato, Erica has decided she’s going to stay a while. The bay-view cavern, I think.”

  The actinia forgotten, Erica jumped to her feet as Carlos approached. “What? I never said I was staying.”

  “We have some things to go over, my dear, just Reel and I. Since you are, as you say, capable of fending for yourself, you won’t mind if I enjoy his company, now will you? I’m sure you’ll feel more refreshed after a nap.”

  Ceto jerked her head and Rasgo, another barracuda, joined Carlos and Mato in circling Erica. She might not realize it, but a barracuda circling was akin to prison. Or death. Either she went with them or they’d tear her apart. Reel glowered at Ceto and clicked in Mermish, “Let her go, Ceto. This is between us.”

  Ceto’s eyes flashed at him, red churning in the center.

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  do as I say. No one comes into my lair and steals from me, Reel. It’s time you remembered just who has the power in this part of the sea.”

  Reel glared at her. He’d been outplayed in this battle, but there was still the war. He cleared his throat. “Go with them, Erica. I’ll get it worked out. Everything will be fine.”

  Everything was not fine. Erica swam around the walls of her prison—it could be nothing else—fuming. First he binds her to him for all eternity with some stupid archaic blue anemone thingy (she tweaked it and got a squeak in return), then he treats her like some medieval piece of chattel, and then he abandons her to this hell. If she ever got out of here in one piece, she was going to rip every hair out of the gorgeous head of his, one at a time. Sloooowly. If she ever got out of here.

  That gave her pause. How was she going to get out of here? The walls were at least ten feet of smooth, polished rock with the occasional sea fan popping up to break the monotony. Sunlight filtered from the surface through long slits in the walls to bounce off the iridescence in the stone. She tried squeezing through one of the openings, but all that got her were some nasty scrapes and probably enough blood in the water to put half the Caribbean on full alert.

  Not that she particularly wanted to escape this way since what was outside her “bay-view cavern” was worse than what was inside—a shell garden where at least two dozen young barracuda schooled with a larger one keeping watch. Day care for killers. InOverHerHead.indd 150

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  A hammerhead shark swam just beyond her walls, its shadow blinking through the slits like an old-fashioned movie reel, the play of dark on light starkly ominous. This was why she never went in the water. This. This very reason. Deadly creatures that could attack from any angle, faster than you could see, and not a blessed prayer of saving yourself. And now here she was in the home of one.

  She dove over to sit in a fishing net stretched between two coral colonies. Hell, she was better off in this cave. Let Reel sort it out. Let him fix it. Who did she think she was kidding? She had a hard enough time in her own world; forget about his. She just wanted to have the damn diamonds in her possession then get her butt to the nearest strip of land as quickly as possible. She’d never go back in the water after this.