I narrowed my eyes and looked my father’s bodyguard over. “Interesting. He’s afraid of a pair of gorgons?”
“Afraid is far too mild a word. The last time they visited, I found him on the roof trying to hide in the chimney.”
“If you come home with me, I solemnly swear I won’t subject any grandparents on you without your consent, and if you’re convincing, I might add my parents to the list,” I offered with a wink.
“Tempting,” my prey replied, heaving a long-suffering sigh.
First, I would find out why my father’s bodyguard feared my gorgon grandparents. Then, I would decide what to do about it. The task went onto my ever-growing list, and I rose from my seat. “Should I get changed for dinner?”
“What you’re wearing is fine.”
I arched a brow. “But you’re wearing a suit.”
“I rarely wear anything else. You’ll get used to it.”
No, I wouldn’t, and at my first opportunity, I’d make some adjustments to my father’s wardrobe. It was only fair, after all. If he could change my living arrangements, I could change his clothes. I’d skip the getting mad part of things altogether.
I had a whole new world of terrorizing my father to explore, and I meant to enjoy it.
True to my father’s word, he had planned an extravagant feast featuring so many fish dishes my head spun. His pet lion fish was a baby, and it lived in a wall-to-wall fishy palace with at least ten other lion fish who ruled over a coral paradise. The lion fish weren’t the only occupants, and I had no doubt I’d lose a lot of time watching the aquarium, which housed an octopus and several species of sharks smart enough to leave the lion fish alone.
My mother waited at the table, her arms crossed over her chest and her eyes narrowed to slits. “You’re pure evil.”
“I’ve been informed our daughter is the devil, so I can’t be pure evil. She is.”
“What’s the meaning of this?”
My father stepped to the table, picked up a large, battered and fried shrimp, and bit into it, smiling while he chewed. He swallowed before saying, “I’m declaring war, Your Royal Majesty, and I’m doing so with the most extravagant feast of fish money can buy. Our daughter belongs to me now, and should you want her back, you will have to play my game.”
“You presume I want her back.”
“That’s mean even for you, Mother,” I complained, sitting beside her and grabbing the nearest plate with lobster on it. True to my father’s claim, there was a steak, and everything still steamed, promising it’d been set on the table shortly before our arrival. “If you allow him to keep me, then you conquered Madagascar for no reason. You hate when you conquer things without reason.”
“Breeding season is approaching, and the shoreline is perfect for spawning,” she replied with a delicate sniff.
“Are you finally going to pick a His Royal Majesty, or are you going to take pity on my father and participate in some interspecies nookie again? If so, I respectfully demand you leave the bodyguard with me and do so somewhere very far away. Madagascar is a sufficient distance. I further request that if you get bitten, as is proper when picking a His Royal Majesty, you do so in private. No one needs to see that.”
“Get bitten?” my father asked, his tone mild.
“If you want to claim her, you have to mutilate her, biting her hard enough it scars as a public mark of your claim. In retaliation, she’ll bite you back. When you two are done mauling each other, it’s accepted you’re a couple. The mer take this very seriously, and should you stray, you will find yourself short a few body parts by the time she’s done with you. Should you decide to maul my mother, make certain you don’t inject any of your venom. The idea is for both participants to survive the mauling,” I answered in my chirpiest voice. “Aren’t you excited to have foolishly involved yourself with mer?”
“I see you have had a very thorough education regarding the reproductive practices of other species.”
“Mother has been hoping I would get bitten for years and carry on the family line.”
“As I said before, there’ll be no assaulting of my bodyguard.”
My mother’s stare locked onto Justin, and she hummed while looking him over. “Do you want him, Tulip?”
While my mother’s interference hadn’t been part of my plans, I’d find a way to take advantage of her. I waved away her question. “It seems I’m not good enough for His Royal Majesty’s bodyguard. No matter. I’m sure I could find a male if I really wanted one, one with the backbone to handle a delicate little princess like me.”
My mother reached out, and as expected, she homed in on a plate of eel, placing it in front of her. “Defective male,” she muttered.
“Be nice to our hosts, Mother,” I chided. “I’m going to pursue some secretarial work in Rapid City for some practical experience on behind-the-scenes management of humans. Secretaries get an excellent view of the nuances of human-to-human interactions, which should be beneficial if you insist I become involved with Madagascar. I’ll also be practicing my French in the meantime. Perhaps, if you’ll be dragging His Royal Majesty to my new kingdom, you might find some educated women willing to teach me Malagasy.”
“You speak French?” my father blurted.
I took my time savoring a bite of lobster and steak, wrapped in bacon as promised, before giving my father my full attention. “I speak six languages fluently, and another four passably. My French is passable. It’s an unfortunate consequence of being the daughter of a queen who conquers islands so I can live on them. I need to be able to speak to the locals—or to the people living on the nearest shores.”
Justin’s eyes widened, and his mouth dropped open.
Excellent. Surprising him would keep his attention focused on me, which served me well. I ignored my father’s bodyguard and returned my attention to my dinner, wondering how I’d eat enough to justify the amount of food littering the table. The portion sizes were small enough, but I’d still be stuffed to the gills eating my share of it.
“Despite appearances, she’s quite educated,” my mother said between bites of eel. My father chuckled, picked the seat across from my mother, and joined me in pursuing a plate of lobster and steak.
I pointed at the seat beside me. “Sit, Justin. If you keep standing like a statue, I’ll have to eat even more food, then I’ll get fat. If I get fat because you don’t sit and eat, I’ll make you regret it.”
My threats needed work, but Justin sighed and obeyed, although he sat stiffly and glared at the food like it’d bite him. Suspicious he disliked fish, I reached over for the nearest plate with steak and set it in front of him. “My mother eats fish daily. She’s a predator. However amusing my father thinks he is, the only reason he got a rise out of her is because she didn’t hunt the fish herself—and he implied she’s prey.”
Justin slumped as though the weight of the world had dropped onto his shoulders. “I need a new job.”
“Offer’s open. You can make me bacon every morning for the rest of my life. Think about it while you’re hard at work preventing my mother from killing my father. I’m sure you’ll be appropriately challenged.”
“There’s the issue of assigning you a bodyguard,” my father began.
“The only bodyguard I’ll accept is the one seated beside me, and only if he’s bringing bacon to me in the morning. Non-negotiable. The last bodyguard I had needed therapy.”
So many ideas rattled around in my head, and I liked the thought of sending Justin away with my father for a while, giving him time to wonder about me—or forget about me. Either would do. When he returned, I’d surprise him.
And I’d have a chance to see if he was as interesting as I believed.
“It’s true,” my mother admitted. “He still hasn’t recovered. She’s got the pride of a queen, and she doesn’t need a mere male to protect her. Unfortunately, she views females as competition to be eliminated, so my options for protection are limited. I value my minions, and after
she sent the first few bodyguards to therapy, the wise ones refused the post—and I wasn’t going to assign a useless waste of air to my heir. I suspect she’ll settle down once she chooses a His Highness for herself; he might be able to contain her a little. That’s my fault. I taught her to be self-sufficient. When she isn’t delivering packages, she’s capable of taking care of herself.”
“I’ve banned her from any courier work.”
“I wish you well convincing her to listen to you. I’ve been banning her from working as a courier from her first day. This fetish with earning her keep is downright disturbing, frankly. She won’t even take a vacation. It’s disturbing.”
My father froze, his fork halfway to his mouth. “You’re upset you’ve raised a responsible woman?”
“That’s what minions are for,” my mother muttered.
Closing my eyes, I inhaled, held my breath, and waited until my lungs burned before sighing. “Just go to Madagascar, Mother, and take my father with you. You can scout the new addition to your kingdom, handpick a few women to teach me Malagasy, and set things up to your liking. I’ll visit for a month each year and handle the critical business. Will that satisfy you?”
“For now,” she agreed. “You intend to leave them self-ruling?”
“Is there a reason I shouldn’t, as long as you have access to the spawning grounds?”
“No, not really.”
“Then leave the poor humans alone. A happy population makes for a wealthy and happy queen—and prevents you from having a very unhappy heir.”
“Who taught you to be such a pain?” my mother complained.
“There’s only one viable candidate at this table, Mother, and that’s you. While I’m grateful for my father’s contribution of genetic material, you were the one who taught me everything I know. Aren’t you proud of yourself?”
Heaving a sigh matched by my father, my mother joined Justin in slumping. “No, I’m not.”
“You’ll survive,” I cheerfully informed her before turning my attention back to my dinner. “This really is delicious. You’ve won this round, Father. Knowing my mother, she might forgive you for that someday. I recommend pink pearls if you’re looking for bribes, but you’d better make them good. She’ll even delay conquering tempting islands for a string of good, pink pearls.”
“Traitor,” my mother complained.
I counted myself the real winner of the mealtime posturing session, and content with my victory, I focused my full attention on my dinner while my parents bickered and Justin sighed.
9
I needed to stop underestimating my father.
While I convinced him to accompany my mother on her adventures, he introduced me to my latest set of keepers, two formidable foes I’d have to be careful around. My grandparents were gorgons, and at their first hiss, my mother bolted for freedom, not even sticking around long enough to say goodbye to me.
Had I been a better daughter, I wouldn’t have laughed so hard over her flight.
My father sighed and called out loud enough for my fleeing mother to hear, “They’re not going to bite or petrify you.”
Snakes ate fish, and no matter how many times my father had likely tried to convince my mother my grandparents wouldn’t eat her, he couldn’t get through to her. Deeper in the house, a door slammed.
Justin sighed, too. “I’ll make certain she doesn’t get lost, sir.”
“Thank you, Justin.”
I swallowed my laughter, keeping still and quiet like a proper princess despite being my father’s daughter. Like him, I wanted to laugh and enjoy Her Royal Majesty’s discomfort.
That left the problem of my grandparents, who fit the little old lady and little old man profiles so well I wasn’t sure what I was supposed to do with them. My grandfather was a lot like my father, possessing thirteen black mambas and the ability to walk around without any coverings. My grandmother’s snakes wore tiny little hats with tinier black veils, and her veil obscured all but her mouth.
When she smiled, I considered running for the hills. I’d been bitten by a vampire once, and his fangs had nothing on hers. His hadn’t dripped venom, either. I wasn’t sure what sort of snakes she had, but they were a rosy hue with diamonds decorating their spine.
“It seems our son produced a cute hatchling with that mermaid of his,” my grandfather rasped, and unlike my father, he had a forked tongue. “A pity we didn’t get to meet your mother properly.”
My father smiled. “I’m sure she’ll be back eventually. Hopefully, I can convince her to be a little less skittish around our serpents.”
“My father forgets snakes eat fish, and the only good snake in the mer kingdom is a dead one.” I smiled my best smile. “It’s pleasure to meet you.”
“You don’t seem to have inherited your mother’s fear of snakes.” My grandmother smiled wider, and she licked her fangs. “We’ve been told you’re uninterested in becoming a bride.”
“Gorgons are a polyamorous species. I’m monogamous. It’s likely a genetic mutation. Mer are polyamorous unless they decide otherwise. Of course, Mer are generally inclined to form permanent partnerships as part of the mating season to better care for the hatchlings, but it isn’t guaranteed. Some choose to have hatchlings without biting their partner.”
“I like the sound of that,” my grandmother replied, clicking her teeth together. “I enjoy a good bite.”
“When a mer decides to dedicate to someone, they mutilate them, tearing into their chosen partner until the wounds are bad enough to leave permanent scars. This is done mutually. Should the couple survive, they’re partners for life. Mer talk with their teeth.” I showed my dull, human teeth. “Should a male cheat on his partner, she will use her teeth to bite off something rather important to him.”
My grandfather and father winced while my grandmother laughed.
“Tulip, please,” my father muttered in a strained voice.
“Should a female cheat on the male, her breasts are typically targeted, as it cripples her abilities to reproduce successfully as well. While mer are hatched, they’re breastfed, and mermaids will not feed the child of a disgraced mermaid.” I graced my grandparents with a smile. “It’s important to know, should my father decide to engage in any inappropriate biting of my mother’s person.”
“Inappropriate?” my father demanded.
I smiled my sweetest smile at my father and waited.
Five minutes later, he threw his hands up in disgust and turned, heading in the direction my mother had fled.
“I think we’re going to get along quite well,” my grandmother declared. “Don’t worry none about your little girl, Rufus. We’ll take care of her.”
I wondered if my grandmother meant to sound threatening. In another first for me, I decided to show some mercy on my mother. When faced with obnoxious gorgon, running seemed like the wisest choice.
My father paused in the doorway. “No petrification, no biting, no running her through her paces, and no adoption matches,” he ordered.
The first three made sense, and I narrowed my eyes. “Adoption match?”
“A hive from Wisconsin has eggs up for adoption. Prospective parents fight for the right to adopt the eggs. The hive had consisted of four members, and they were killed in a car accident. The eggs survived. The prospective parents to survive through the worst beating becomes the caretaker of the orphaned eggs. Your grandparents volunteered to oversee the matches.”
My eyes widened. “And how would I participate?”
“You’d get to beat the prospective parents—”
I beamed at my father. “Yes, please. I’d be glad to help beat gorgons to a near-death state.”
“That is obviously the mermaid in you talking,” my father complained.
“It’d be a good educational experience for her if she can resist petrification long enough to fight. We’d have to test to find out how resistant she is.”
“She itches, and when she itches, she gets violent and crank
y,” my father warned.
My grandmother showed off her fangs. “Excellent. Run along, Rufus. It’d be a pity if you let your mermaid escape. It was so much work catching one for you.”
“Why do I have the feeling if I leave my daughter with you, she’ll be returned even more corrupt than she already is?”
I arched a brow, planted my hands on my hips, and looked my father over from his hissing serpents to his shiny shoes. “Obviously, I didn’t inherit my shining intellect and common sense from you.”
My grandfather hooted his laughter, and his black mambas reared up and hissed. “You bred us a feisty little fishy, Rufus.”
“I’m regretting I called you now.”
“Hindsight is ever perfect, dear boy. Off you go before your mermaid escapes. Your hatchling is safe with us, never fear.”
“I was a live birth,” I informed my grandparents. “Much to my mother’s eternal anguish, as I did not inherit any aquatic genetics. The lack of aquatic genes makes it much harder to rule her kingdom, so she’s stuck with me. I’m far better at sinking in water than breathing it.”
My grandmother’s eyes narrowed, and she scowled at me. “That’s troublesome. Very well. Our first order of business is to teach you how to swim. No grandchild of mine will be drowning on my watch.”
“I can swim. I just can’t breathe water.”
“You can’t swim well enough,” she informed me. “Do you own a bathing suit?”
Was my father a bastion of sanity in his family? If so, I feared his contribution of genetic material was the probable cause of my tendency to kill people I found particularly heinous. “No.”
“Then that’s our first errand for the day.” My grandmother seized my grandfather by a handful of his black mambas and dragged him across the room. “Come along, little hatchling. We’re going shopping.”
Sirens and Scales Page 38
