Songs and Fins (The Merworld Trilogy Book 2)

by B. Kristin McMichael

“Okay, little buddy. I’m going to try this, and I’m really sorry if I say the word wrong and you end up going for a swim, or maybe have a craving for pineapple for weeks or whatever else that word might mean.” She was rambling—a good indication that she wasn’t ready, but knew she really didn’t have a choice.

  Closing her eyes, Whitney tried to remember the sound of the tune behind the words as Sam spoke. She hoped she had it right as she took a deep breath and attempted to pronounce the word correctly.

  “Too-aw,” she said, putting the song behind her own voice.

  It was a strange sensation as the word came out of her mouth. When she had lived with her mother, she had taken classes in casting magic. She had used magical words before—rather unsuccessfully as she was a horrible witch—but nothing felt like it did now. It was like she heard the sing-song tone reverberate from her toes, all the way back up. Her hands tingled as the magic made its way all over her body.

  Opening her eyes, Whitney expected to see a sitting rat or maybe one that was starting to sit. Instead, she saw it lying on the ground with its eyes wide open, not moving. Whitney turned to Sam to see the stunned expression on his face.

  ‘I killed it,’ she said mentally, hoping that her magical voice didn’t get through the headphones.

  Waking from his awe, Sam shook his head as he took off the headphones. Again he said the same magical words to the creature at their feet. This time the rat thing didn’t stand. Instead, it wobbled as it turned over to its belly. Slowly, like it was a bit drunk, the animal scampered away. Whitney was relieved to see it move and glad to see it leave. She hadn’t killed it after all.

  “So I guess my singing is just as bad now. Man, I was hoping my voice would improve to be as great as my rock star boyfriend’s.” Whitney tried to use humor in the situation instead of freaking out. From the look on Sam’s face, it was possible freaking out should have been her top choice. Good thing Sam already knew her as a smile crept over his features.

  “I have a feeling I don’t want you to sing for me after all,” Sam told her. “I might not retain free will, and have to do anything you say. I think you’re stronger than me. Maybe even stronger than my father.”

  Now it was Whitney’s turn to be shocked. It had to be bad singing. Or at least that was what she was desperately trying to convince herself of.

  “But I suppose we do have to try to be sure,” Sam continued, much to Whitney’s dismay.

  “No. I could hurt you. Heck, I don’t think that rat will be walking straight for a while. Think about when he goes back to the missus, and Mrs. Rat-thing gets all upset that he was drinking without her and he can’t explain that some blond-haired bimbo did it to him while singing him a song.”

  Grinning, Sam pulled her close.

  “If he calls you a blonde-haired bimbo, I will hunt him down and eat him for supper.”

  Sam’s lips found hers when he was done threatening the non-existent rat. Whitney placed her arms around him and kept him close as his kiss was bound to end soon. It seemed like his father put a fifteen-second limit on them.

  Whitney was worried at Sam’s words and his guess at her siren strength, but he was making her forget about that. And when he didn’t pull away after fifteen seconds, Whitney let it all travel to the back of her mind. She was on a tropical island, by a beautiful waterfall, in the middle of nowhere, with her boyfriend. It was time to forget about everything else as his father’s orders seemed to be fulfilled, and now she would get that make-out session she had been dreaming of all week.

  CHAPTER 6

  Standing in front of his father, Sam did his best to not let a single nervous thought cross his mind. The moment his father’s order stopped, he had found the truth: Whitney was stronger than anyone on the island, including the king. That wasn’t going to sit well with the old man. Sam wasn’t sure how to get around it, but whatever they did, his father wasn’t going to be happy.

  “Did you two have a fun time?” the king asked. Sam knew his father wasn’t one for chit-chatting and was likely up to something.

  “Yes, sir,” Sam replied curtly as he squeezed Whitney’s hand. He had begged her on their swim back to let him do all the talking. So far, so good. Now he just hoped his father would get right to point and they could get it over with. Sam was prepared to flee with Whitney if his father made any motions of hurting her.

  “And I take it she sung for you,” his father continued when no more answer was given to him.

  Whitney opened her mouth, and Sam squeezed her hand again.

  ‘If he refers to me again like I’m not standing right here, I might give him a piece of my mind,’ Whitney threatened silently.

  Hiding his smile, Sam nodded to his father. It was nice to have found Whitney, what with her lack of fear of the king. She should have feared him. It wasn’t just that his father’s voice was the strongest on the island; he was also the most cunning of all of the siren, and quite ready to fight anyone. The only reason his father was still king was because he didn’t just rely on his voice. All the others before him thought ultimate control came by singing. Sam’s father knew otherwise, and that was what Sam dreaded the most. He wasn’t going to be happy in the least that his song wasn’t more powerful than Whitney’s.

  “So what did you decide?” The king turned back to them from viewing the water just outside his office window.

  “I think she might be around the strength of me,” Sam replied, not wanting to give a certain answer. He still didn’t have a plan.

  “Either she’s weaker, or she’s stronger. It can’t be both, son.”

  Crap, Sam was caught. He had to say something, and nothing was coming to mind that would work.

  “It’s an easy enough question. Can she control you?” the king added.

  Oh, she could control him. After hours and hours of practicing, it was close to impossible to get her to not control him. It was like asking someone driving at sixty miles an hour to slow down to ten without using brakes. They hadn’t found a way to tone it down. Whitney had made him jump in the lake, squawk like a chicken, and hop on one leg. Each time a more embarrassing thing, and he had no choice but to do it. Yes, Sam knew where she stood in power, but he wasn’t about to tell his father. Then he would want to see more and test her himself. Once he did that, it would be over. His father would know the truth and Sam wasn’t sure how he would respond.

  ‘If I tell you to tell me the truth about something, will that count as controlling or not controlling you?’ Whitney asked.

  ‘Sure, but I can’t lie to him. He can see inside my head.’

  ‘Don’t worry about that. I think I know how to get around this.’

  It seemed that Sam wasn’t the only one worried about telling his father, and it was a good thing his other half was ready for it. Again, Sam was thankful to have found Whitney.

  “How about I tell him to tell me something, and he lie about it?” Whitney suggested, causing the king’s sea-blue eyes to turn to her as if he finally noticed she was there.

  “That would do. If you can get him to tell the truth and he can lie about it, then we know he’s stronger than you.” The king looked back at Sam and shrugged. “At least she understands that there’s no ‘kind of’ in siren power. Everyone here falls somewhere on the power scale. Either she’s higher than you or lower.”

  Sam hid his worry as his father talked. Whitney, though well-meaning, was playing with fire. His father wasn’t someone to cross; and even though he did it all the time, Sam knew how far he could push the old man. Whitney didn’t. But being that he didn’t have a plan of his own, he had to go with her. He had to trust her.

  “How about you tell me when you first met me,” Whitney said, batting her eyes and using the smallest amount of push she could in her voice, just enough so that the king could feel the magic behind the order.

  Sam tried not to turn and stare at her. What sort of question was that? Sam was about to ask when he felt his father pushing into his head and siftin
g through his memories without Sam’s permission. Quickly the image of Whitney arriving at school the year before flashed in front of his eyes. That was the answer, and Sam didn’t need to say it out loud for his father to know. The king backed out of his head while Sam tried to formulate a lie, but knew it was never going to come out.

  ‘Is he gone yet?’ Whitney asked like she had sensed him there.

  ‘Yes.’ Sam’s head was his own.

  ‘Then here’s your lie,’ Whitney added before sending new pictures to his mind.

  Images floated from her childhood to him of a black-haired boy standing on the edge of the pier, asking her where he was. Realization set in as Sam recognized the scene from his own memory. When his father had sent him off to find his way home by the way of a rite of passage that every mer had to endure, Sam had been dropped in the Pacific Ocean. He had swum upriver to find out where he was and talked to a young girl. Whitney had been that girl. He had met her years ago.

  Sam chewed his lip as he pretended to think up his lie. He was in awe of the truth. Now, more than ever, he felt like he had been fated to meet her.

  “We met as children playing in some small town in the middle of nowhere,” Sam pretended to lie.

  Whitney faked a gasp. “That’s not fair,” she complained, continuing her act. “When I tried to make you tell the truth before, it worked perfectly. Why are you lying now?”

  Sam knew she was playing it up to make his father believe, and not want to pry more.

  “I told you the truth before because I wanted to,” Sam answered. “I believe in honesty in a relationship, no matter how embarrassing.”

  “That will change,” the king said, moving past them and out of the office, signaling that the meeting was done.

  Sam took that as a good sign. Hopefully, it was enough to convince the old man that Whitney wasn’t a threat. Now he just wished he had more time to teach her how to control it better. And, heck, more time to teach her how to defend herself. He hadn’t had time, with all the singing practice, to tell her the truth about her new friends. Maybe they’d spent too much time practicing, or it might have been from too much time kissing, but he was never going to get enough of that. He didn’t need the bond to prove that he was completely head over heels in love with Whitney.

  Whitney sat on the edge of the rock as Sam swam before her. They had taken the boat back to shore with their much lighter packs and even tried to go ashore, though Sam promptly had to hop in and hide in the water since his father’s rules still applied to him. She had taken Sam’s car back around to the diner and climbed out on the rocks to be able to sit and talk with him a little more before it got dark. She hated having to go back so soon, and doing so without him was torture.

  “So why can I talk to you way back at the island when I go in the water, but not when I’m on land?” Whitney asked. She had learned more over the weekend about their bond, and bonds in the night human world in general. The amount of space that people could talk to each other over a bond had to do with their strength. From their singing lessons, they had discovered that Whitney was a very strong siren.

  “I think it has to do with it being two different worlds: the land world and the sea world. I bet if I was on land and hundreds of miles away, you could talk to me then. It’s just not between the two sides.”

  Sam kept himself upright, but bobbed in the water with the waves as they came by.

  “Do you have to go back?” Whitney asked. Not being near him was bad, but to have him far away and somewhere she couldn’t get to him quickly was worse.

  “Yes, because I have to train. If I want to come back on land, I have to work my way up through the ranks.”

  He’d already told her that, but she still had to beg. Their short weekend together hadn’t been enough. She wanted him on shore and able to kiss her whenever she wanted. Thinking of kissing him was enough to make him move closer to where she sat. Sam used his water magic and made the water rise high enough to take him to her. Whitney grinned, knowing that he had read her mind and was giving her just what she wanted.

  “I’d give anything to be with you, and I’ll be back before you know it. There’s no way you’re walking graduation in a few months without me there.”

  His words were meant to reassure her, but it hurt more now. His plans were to be back in a few months, not days, which was all she figured she could tolerate. Her life over the past year had been rough with losing her mother and father, and then moving away from her brother and best friend. Now she finally had that bond she craved, and she had lost him, too. Sam understood, and his hands cupped her face.

  “We will have next weekend together and every weekend after that. I’m not leaving you, ever. Bonding is for life.”

  Sam’s lips were upon hers before she could respond. Whitney sighed as she gladly kissed him back, wishing it could last forever. Sam kept her balanced on the rock as they continued to kiss, neither one wanting to actually say good-bye. The sun was slowly setting, and they just didn’t care.

  “I have to let you go now, but know it’s not because I want to leave you.”

  Whitney smiled sadly. She didn’t want him to leave, either. It was going to be quiet in her head, and even quieter at school. Sam had told her she didn’t have enough control to sway her friends without potentially hurting them. It was fine for her to practice on him all weekend because he was strong enough himself, but her friends were all greens. He said that while all blues could control greens, it was painful for them if not done right. That was enough to squash her hopes of getting them back. He had offered to make them come to the island, and he would take care of it, but she was sure that it was her battle. Amber wanted to test her, and Whitney was going to pass with flying colors once she got control better. At least she had her new friends.

  “Um, about those new friends,” Sam said from his spot down in the water again. “Do you know much about them?”

  It sounded like a loaded question, but Whitney took the bait.

  “They move around a lot for their mother’s job and never stay any place too long. They’re both a little different, but that’s not a bad thing. Jade’s actually quite funny once you get her to open up, and Jax reminds me so much of my old friend, Owen. Don’t worry; there’s nothing between him and me. It’s strictly platonic.”

  “Did they ever mention what their mother does for work?”

  Whitney shrugged. Not that she could recall. What was Sam’s interest in them? Did he only want her to have siren as friends? Fat chance that was going to happen. The only siren that actually liked her were told to not go near her.

  “Did it ever cross your mind that they might be hunters?” Sam asked, obviously trying out what he wanted to say nicely.

  “Hunters?” Whitney replied in disbelief. “No way. Jade is quiet and nice. I can’t imagine her hurting a fly.”

  “I think Jade and Jax are the children of Rommy Kristian.”

  “Rommy Kristian,” Whitney repeated. She had learned very little of hunters growing up. They were almost as mythical to her as merpeople, but certainly neither were a mystery now.

  “The Rommy Kristian,” Sam repeated.

  Images flashed before Whitney’s mind. Letters upon letters from various mer divisions. All had lost dozens of their people to that one woman. Then there were more siren Sam had to help carry back to the island. He’d been too young the only time he had seen her, and one of his older brothers had kept him out of the brawl. Young Sam watched as a lady who looked like she could be an older sister to Jade threw punches, ducked, and weaved around the three sirens she was fighting all at once. Sam’s brother dragged him away from everything before he could see the outcome. But because Whitney was sure Jade’s mother was still alive, she had a feeling all three sirens died.

  “She’s one of the all-time greatest hunters. She fights with a passion that none of the others have, and no one has been able to kill her. Hundreds of night humans, if not more, have fallen to her.” Sam now sou
nded worried, maybe even a little panicked.

  From Sam’s memory, Jade’s mother wasn’t a pleasant person, but then again she hadn’t missed the memory image where the three sirens had a dead day human body at their feet. She figured they probably drained their victim. It was hard to take sides when Whitney wasn’t sure where she belonged.

  “You have to be careful with your new friends,” Sam said as the water lifted him back up to her. He touched her face to get her to look at him.

  Whitney stared into his eyes. It was shocking to find out her friends were hunters, but that wasn’t what was bothering her. Sam’s memory showed the siren feeding on a human, killing the human. No one but the hunter Rommy seemed to care. Not even Sam, in his own memory.

  “They’ll kill you just for being a siren. I know you don’t understand the siren and all their ways, but it doesn’t matter to them if you’ve taken a life or not. All the children running around the island have never taken a life, and they’re just as innocent as you are. Remember those are the people we protect.”

  Yes, that much was true. There were still innocent mer, at least she had to hope so.

  “I will be careful,” Whitney replied, reaching over and touching his cheek, too.

  Sam leaned into her hand like he was drawing all the strength he would need for the week. Whitney knew the feeling all too well. Leaning forward and pressing her forehead to his as he stayed there, she wished there was another way for them to be together.

  “Sam, I promise to stay safe as long as you do, too.” If there were hunters around, it wasn’t the best idea to be sitting near shore talking.

  Without warning, Sam wrapped his arms around Whitney and pulled her into the ocean. As she hit face first, she didn’t hesitate to transform into her siren form to be able to breathe under water. She wasn’t sure if her tail was in the water when she transformed, but she didn’t really think too much about it.

  ‘They’re on the shore,’ Sam said as he pulled her deeper down in the water. ‘We have to go back to the pier, and we have to say good-bye now. I’m sorry; I was too lost in saying good-bye, I didn’t notice them.’