Sea-Witch

by JE Hunter

My eyes opened. Fluid darkness surrounded me. I was in the ocean, so deep the light could barely penetrate. In the depths was a man, or rather, the outline of a man. He was there, and then he was gone. A deep boom reached up from the ocean floor. It came again. My heart thumped, matching it. Boom. Boom. Boom. Quicker and quicker it came, growing louder, growing closer. My eyes opened.

  The boom came again. Now that I was awake, I realized it for what it was: a knock.

  I sat up slowly, my heart racing in the dark. "Come in."

  The door creaked opened, letting in light. "Good morning." Caesar, my pirate boyfriend, carried a food-laden tray into the dim room. I reached over, turning on my bedside lamp as he closed the door.

  "Breakfast in bed? What's this for?" My alarm clock told me it was seven in the morning. It was still dark outside, the sun wouldn’t rise for an hour yet. I could hear fat drops of rain landing on the windows and roof of the house. Typical for winter on the northern Pacific Coast.

  Caesar slipped into bed beside me. "Because I have a feeling today's going to be a long one."

  He placed the tray on his lap. I pushed up on my elbows to better see the selection: one fluffy, perfectly browned waffle bathed in maple syrup, three strips of extra crispy bacon, an already peeled orange, a large glass of apple juice, and a cup of coffee. The black liquid had become a staple in my diet ever since I'd lost the ability to sleep restfully.

  "Is something wrong?" Caesar asked, when I didn't dive right into the food, but picked at the edge of the waffle instead, eating the crispy bits.

  "No. No…It’s just…” I sighed, looking at the wooden tray, unable to summon an appetite. "I had the dream again."

  "Nessa–"

  "No. I know what you think—what Grandma thinks: that it's just a dream." I turned toward Caesar. He looked back at me, his pupils dilated to let in light. "But it's been going on too long to be a dream. I think it actually happened, Caesar. The kurage got away—I know it." The anchor weighing me down lightened with my confession.

  "I suppose there's a small possibility that he slipped through the vodiani's seaweed trap." Caesar pulled my hand away from the bacon and held on tightly. "But after the ass-kicking he and his groupies got back in September, I don't think he'll come back here—if he survived. He wouldn't make the same mistake twice." Caesar let go of my hand, picking up the fork and knife, cutting the waffle for me. "Eat. It'll make you feel better. Plus, you need strength today. With all the members of the North Pacific Council arriving—along with mermaid royalty—there's bound to be a lot of running around to be done for your grandma. You know she likes to keep us busy and away from all the fun."

  I opened my mouth as Caesar lifted a forkful of waffle to my lips. The sugary syrup filled my mouth, sending a tingle of delight through me, chasing away the vestiges of my nightmares. "Thanks." I mumbled once I was done chewing. "For making me feel better. And for all this."

  "Of course." Caesar stole a piece of bacon. "What else is a boyfriend for?"

  "I can think of a few things." I entwined my arms around his neck, pulling him in for a kiss. Caesar was a lighthouse in what had been a very dark autumn. The past five months had been long ones. It had all begun when Dad died in a car crash. Mom hadn't been able to deal so she'd sent me to live with Grandma. Right before I moved out of the only home I'd ever known, my hair had turned electric red and I'd learned I was a sea-witch. My entire life had turned around in the blink of an eye: a new look, a new home, and a new identity. I'd thought being sent to live on a remote island was the end of my life, but once I grew comfortable using my powers to control water, and made some awesome new friends, I'd realized it wasn't so bad.

  Just when everything was going great, the kurage, an evil jellyfish-like creature showed up and kidnapped Shia—a mermaid classmate of mine who just happened to be a princess. I'd been with her in the woods when the kurage attacked us. I’d been stung and knocked unconscious. When I’d come too, Shia had disappeared. It had taken almost the entire population of our small island to rescue her from the boat of black market traders. But we'd done it, though not before they’d managed to chop off a good chunk of Shia's leg. Apparently, eating mermaid flesh is akin to the fountain of youth.

  "You know, I think you taste better than the food," Caesar said, pulling me out of my reverie.

  I laughed, turning my attention back to my still half-full plate. "Nothing tastes better than bacon," I teased. “Maybe they should just serve this at the banquet tonight.”

  “I can always eat bacon,” Caesar said, swiping another piece from my plate. “When are they supposed to arrive?" Caesar nuzzled closer to me as I slid the tray to the side of the bed.

  I wrapped my arm around his, burying my head in his shoulder briefly before lifting it to glance toward the window. I couldn't see anything since my curtains were still drawn. But I knew all I'd see were grey skies, rain, and rough waves. "Hopefully not until this afternoon; I want to spend more time with you before things get crazy around here."

  "I can arrange that." Caesar's voice was low and husky. "I'm pretty sure I can block the doorway with your desk. That'll keep your grandma out. At least for a little while." He leaned over me, locking his lips with mine. In the three months that we'd been together, the kissing had only gotten better. My body melted into Caesar's as he held me tightly. His hands slipped over my clothes, down to my waist, and then slowly up under my shirt. I moaned, pressing closer to him, wanting more. But the internal conflict I'd been fighting for the past month reared up: did I actually want more?

  We were still kissing—and I was still trying to figure out how far I wanted to go—when I heard the front door open. A rush of voices floated up the stairs. I groaned, pushing Caesar away. There was a small part of me that was thankful for the interruption. I wasn't sure I wanted to go all the way, and I didn't want to do it accidentally. I wanted to be really sure. "I think they're here."

  Caesar sat up, pulling a hand through his shaggy brown hair. "Already?"

  I bounced off my bed, heading for my closet. "I'd better get dressed. Grandma will probably want me to clean or show them around or something before this meeting tonight."

  "Why are they here anyhow? I mean, why now? Shia was kidnapped three months ago, and nothing has happened since we rescued her. We already have Barry—as annoying as he is—and more of the Tiderunners acting as guardians, not to mention the numerous myrmidons the merking sent just to guard Shia."

  I grimaced, pulling the clothes I wanted to wear from their hangers. "Don't even mention the myrmidons, those guys give me the heebee-jeebies. I've never met such...cutthroats in my life. I can't lay eyes on one without feeling like my skin's separating from my bones.” The thought of the myrmidons caused me to shiver, and the memory of the first time I’d seen one of the creatures came to mind. I'd been swimming, and I'd seen a sharp, black forked-tail whip through the water. For a moment, I thought it was a harpoon, heading straight for my head. Then I’d seen his face, the sallow, green colour and the scaly skin and the sharp pointed teeth. I'd later learnt that myrmidons were a distant off shoot of merfolk. They were known for their battle skill, warrior nature, and powerful physique. In their culture, everyone became a solider. They began drills and mock-combat scenarios at the age of three. At the age of ten, a myrmidon was cast out alone, and forced to survive a whole month without any assistance, all the while being hunted by their clan. The best won such challenges, becoming leaders. The worst, those who were captured, were put through another ten rigorous years of training. Myrmidon's used their skills to aggressively defend their lands, and lands that others hired them to protect.

  The very best of the myrmidons were hired into the merking's guard, and by extension, Shia's. She'd told me they made her a bit uneasy, and that her trick was to, ”Forget they're there.” The Tiderunners, a large family of Orca whale shapeshifters who lived on the Northern half of the island, and had been there for hundreds of years, were positively friendly in comparison. And
Barry, mine and Grandma’s new roommate, a selkie, and a recent arrival from Ireland—was the friendliest security guard of them all.

  "Exactly, so why do we need more security? There's already a housing shortage." The way Caesar's eyes narrowed, I was pretty sure he was referring to Barry and the fact that he lived in my house.

  "I don't know, but if I did, I'd tell you," I replied. "Now get out of here while I change." I swatted at Caesar with my blue t-shirt. He dodged out of the way, gathering up the tray of dirty dishes, leaving the room before I could swat him again.

  Every time Caesar left my sight I missed him. I felt smaller, somehow, when he was gone. I'd thought about saying, "I love you," but I wasn't sure I knew what love was. Did obsessive compulsive daydreaming and feeling like there was nothing better than being with him count? Was that love? One of my best friends, Amynta, a passionate siren, told me I should have said it months ago. Colleen—my other best friend, and a much more level-headed selkie—had given me the opposite advice, saying I should wait.

  I dressed quickly, thinking I would miss Caesar less this way. I slapped on my favourite t-shirt and ripped jeans, and a hooded sweatshirt that would fit snuggly under my rain jacket. I let my long red hair cascade over my shoulders, proudly showing it off. Things had really changed since I'd transformed from a brunette to a redhead. But a few things had stayed the same: my love of fashion, my taste for chocolate, the way my heart ached for Dad everyday—Mom too—although I'd get to see her in a couple of weeks during Christmas break.

  I opened my bedroom door and walked out into the hallway, glancing over the railing to scope out the new arrivals in the entryway as I headed for the stairs. Below me, Caesar was holding the dirty breakfast dishes and talking to a beautiful, tall, dark-chocolate woman with a halo of dark red hair in the foyer. Obviously a new arrival.

  "Who invited you? You don't belong here,” Caesar said vehemently, before I even made it to the top step.

  "I've come to help, Caesar," the woman said, her thickly accented voice carried up the stairs. Her speech reminded me of Juan’s, a pirate classmate of mine, and one of Caesar’s best friends. Juan was from Cuba, and I wondered if this mysterious woman was from somewhere in the Caribbean, too.

  "Oh, you want to help, do you. After all this time? What's wrong with you? He's been gone for nearly a year and now you decide to care?" Caesar's face was red. I bit my lip, briefly debating going downstairs before thinking better of it. Whatever was going on, it was private, yet I couldn't tear myself away.

  "I always cared. Don't you dare accuse me of not caring. The fact that I didn't want to be reckless, doesn't mean I don't care. This wasn't the first time your father disappeared on one of his treasure hunts."

  “So, it's about the treasure? I should have known. Just because–"

  "Scary, isn't it?" Someone said from beside me.

  I jumped, having not heard Barry come out of his room and join me at the railing. He was Colleen's selkie cousin. He'd come over from Ireland after his own father disappeared, and had moved in with Grandma and me because there was no room left at the York's house and we had lots. Plus, neither Grandma or I minded having someone around acting as our own personal security guard. Especially one who was as good-looking as he was. I didn’t mention that bit to Caesar.

  Barry was on the tall side of average and had the trademark pale skin and deep brown eyes of a selkie. He kept his hair buzz cut, so only a tiny bit of the dark black showed. He was extremely fit. I couldn't stop my eyes from drifting over his ripped, bare shoulders and the black, round Celtic knot tattoo on his left bicep. He had a second tattoo of a mermaid on his right bicep, which brushed against mine as we watched the scene below. Needless to say, Caesar did not get along with Barry, mostly because of the fact that Barry refused to wear a shirt when hanging around the house. I didn't mind his clothing choices in the slightest. A girl could be loyal and still enjoy the view.

  "Sorry, I didn't mean to scare you,” Barry said in his lilting Irish accent. He nodded at the woman down below. "She's a fiery one."

  "Do you know who she is?” I asked, keeping my eyes focused on Caesar.

  "No idea," Barry replied.

  "I don't need to listen to this. I'm not going to forgive you. You might as well go home!" Caesar stormed away from the woman and out of my view.

  "I'd better go find him.” I gave Barry an apologetic smile before running down the stairs.

  The fiery woman was angrily digging through her purse when I reached the foyer. I didn't say a word to her as I stepped off the stairs, speeding through the hallway. I didn't want to upset Caesar by talking to the woman who appeared to be his mortal enemy.

  Caesar was in the kitchen, standing at the sink. He turned on the faucet and picked up the soap bottle, squeezing it hard enough that the top popped off, dropping a gigantic dollop of soap into the water.

  "Hey, how are you doing?" I reached for the bottle. Caesar slammed it back onto the counter before I could grasp it. In the sink, bubbles were quickly piling up.

  "Great," he muttered under his breath. "Everything's just great." He plunked the dirty dishes into the water, loudly.

  "Why don't you let me do this?" I reached for the plate Caesar was holding. He grasped it firmly, pulling it from my reach.

  "I don't need any help, Nessa. I'm fine." He faced me; his eyes dark. He grabbed the silverware from the tray, dropping it into the sink. "Or don't you trust my judgement either?"

  I took a step back in surprise; I'd never seen him like this.

  "Come on, Mate, there's no need to snap at your girlfriend." Barry swooped into the kitchen with a powerful stride and a friendly, disarming smile. "Why don't you go calm down; we can handle the dishes."

  Caesar spun round, fixing Barry with a cold glare. He tossed the wet dish cloth to the floor. "Perfect timing, Mate. I was just thinking how great it would be for a shirtless selki to guard my girlfriend for me because no one thinks I can do it myself."

  "No one said that," Barry said, but Caesar just shook his head, stormed passed the selkie, out the back door past the laundry room attached to the outside of the house, and into the forest, without so much as a goodbye.

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  J. E Hunter is the author of the Black Depths series—Tales of a Redheaded Sea-Witch, Broken Tide, and Dark Shores are all available for purchase now. The fourth book of the series, and the thrilling conclusion, Twisted Currents, will be released in September 2016. J.E. Hunter lives in Saskatoon, Saskatchewan, Canada with her family, and spends much of her free time reading, gardening, and consuming too much chocolate.