She carried baby Zain into the house with promises to get him tasty food and introduce him to the others, who would love him exactly as he was.
It made Zara’s own heart swell with memories.
Elan sought her hand as though needing an anchor. She took his hand, reassuring him, and squeezed.
His shoulders relaxed. He was a large tattooed warrior, a force of nature, a First Lieutenant in charge of defending a whole undersea city. Attuned to any risk, careful of any danger. Releasing his son to this strange woman must have been the hardest thing he had done in a very long time. And when Zara told him it was safe, he respected her judgment. And her.
She couldn’t let her heart swell painfully. She couldn’t let Elan into her world. She couldn’t feel this gratitude for his constant support buffering her like a rising tide, reminding her that he was always her first, strongest, and most faithful supporter. She absolutely must not get used to the feeling of her husband under her hungry hands again. No.
Elan had shown her not every man was hurtful, untrustworthy. He had shown her the meaning of honor.
Losing Zain had been like losing her dream.
Losing Elan had been like losing the other half of herself.
With Vaw Vaw’s successful greeting, the other relatives stepped forward to greet Elan. He returned their greetings stiffly, but doing his best to perform according to the laws of her land.
And Zara felt the dangerous cracking of her shields as she leaned against Elan, giving him the silent comfort he seemed to need in order to function.
This could only end in heartbreak.
6
Who was this peaceful, domestic Zara? Elan didn’t recognize his fiery wife.
She peeled and cut green-threaded, seeded fruit called kiwis at a counter while the elder named Vaw Vaw carried baby Zain between the women working in her small, cluttered kitchen. Since the beach, Zara had never fully taken her eyes off Zain. In this homey kitchen, for the first time, she focused on her simple peeling task with a small smile on her bright, calm face.
Elan did not share that peace. He couldn’t take his eyes off either. He felt his attention tearing in half.
“Here, wine.” Vaw Vaw handed him a short glass of red liquid. “From my cousin’s vineyard.”
He accepted the odd-smelling concoction with thanks. After being hugged tightly by the small woman for an extended period, brushing her cool fingertips to take a glass did not seem so large a violation. But he still kept himself back from the other females. He was well aware no other males came into this room. He remained in the doorway.
Anyway, he must acclimate to this human practice. Once Zara saw his determination to respect her ways, then perhaps she would extend the same respect to his.
Zain, resting on Vaw Vaw’s wide hip, reached for the passing wine.
“Oh, you little one! It is goat’s milk for you. Do you like goat’s milk? Here is some from my sister’s goats.”
Zara’s smile increased as Vaw Vaw tipped the thick cream into Zain’s mouth. She held the cup steady so he could control how much, if any, he tried. He mostly played with the glass without tasting the liquid.
Vaw Vaw noticed Zara’s soft smile.
“Oh, Mama. Would you like to feed your baby?” She set the glass on the crowded counter and lifted Zain to hand him to Zara.
Her smile fled. She dropped the peeler on the cutting board and fumbled to accept him, her soul light fluctuating in a panic. Zain immediately started crying in Zara’s sticky hands.
The other females cooking in the kitchen laughed.
“So sorry, my darlings, for surprising you.” Vaw Vaw took him back with a laugh and then saw Zara’s stricken face.
She rested a hand on Zara’s shoulder and murmured in her ear so even Elan, standing just on Zara’s other side, could barely hear. “Don’t worry. It is common after a long absence. He is young and will quickly change.”
She sniffed. “I just want to hold him.”
“You will.”
Zara shook her head.
“Yes. He cries because you are his most important person. He worries about getting everything right.”
Zara looked up. “Really?”
Vaw Vaw nodded. “It is certain.”
From the safety of Vaw Vaw’s firm arms, baby Zain regarded his mother with wide, dark eyes.
Her own chest light glowed with reassurance. Zara reached out one finger to stroke his cheek.
He caught her finger in his small fist and clenched it as though making a promise.
Her throat worked. Tears sprang to her eyes.
“See?” Vaw Vaw rubbed Zara’s shoulders reassuringly. “It is already beginning.”
Her expression filled with faith.
Where Elan had sought to comfort her, this Vaw Vaw succeeded. This gentle elder could reach Zara’s heart effortlessly, and now he understood why she held such a position of respect. He was truly grateful.
Vaw Vaw wove between the aunts, checked on pots and dishes, and then carried Zain out to a toy-strewn, children-filled room.
Zara rubbed her cheek with her wrist as though to dry a tear that hadn’t fallen. She picked up the knife to finish slicing kiwis.
Elan positioned himself in the outer doorway to keep a watch on both of the precious ones in his life.
“Can we play with him?” the young children begged Vaw Vaw. “Can we play with the baby merman?”
“Yes, my babies. Sit here and I will set him in your lap.”
And, again to Elan’s shock, Zain willingly went into the arms of a slender girl while the others looked curiously on and begged for a turn. She watched over them expertly, pointing out observations to enchant smiles and excite wiggles.
“Can we walk him?” a little boy asked, demonstrating that he wanted to hold Zain’s hands and help him walk like a human.
“No, my babies. He will injure his fins. He must make human feet first. Mermen can shift between fins and feet when they want to. Did you know?”
“We learned that in school,” the little boy said archly.
A strange emotion moved in Elan’s chest.
Only a year ago, the mer were unknown to the human world except for the few islands that passed the traditions of the mer to their sacred brides. Now, modern humans learned about the mer in school. How could his elders hope to pretend their existence remained secret?
But Dragao Azul had little choice. The All-Council enforced the ancient covenant.
Someday, the All-Council representatives would realize their folly.
The children urged Zain to change his fins into feet. They wiggled their bare toes. “See? Make feet!”
Zain simply stared at them with his wide, curious eyes.
Vaw Vaw laughed heartily. “That is the way, my babies. Show him how much fun it is to have human feet and he will be encouraged to try his hardest.”
Under Vaw Vaw’s expert eye, the children frolicked around Zain, treating him like their youngest siblings, offering him toys and making him welcome. Elan had not seen such effortless direction of young fry in all his years beneath the ocean. Fewer than one young fry was born every year in Dragao Azul, so there was little opportunity. Perhaps someday, when the mer race recovered their numbers, specialized young fry-rearing elders would be needed once more.
Zara brought in the plate of the cut kiwis. The children treated her as a familiar adult and she had no unusual emotions around them. Only near Zain did her soul light brighten and darken.
And near Elan.
She paused in the doorway, offering him a slice of the green fruit. “It sure is different from your home, isn’t it?”
“Yes.”
“Louder.”
He took the slice and licked the sweet-tart juice that slipped down his hand. “I have never seen so many young fry.”
“Not in any of the undersea cities?”
“I have only been to a few. And in those cities, like in Dragao Azul, only one warrior was honored to tra
vel to the surface and take a sacred bride.”
It was different in the past. Only a few generations ago, their sacred islands had teemed with willing brides. Secret traditions passed from mother to daughter. Brides from ten, twenty sacred islands had gathered each year to join with Dragao Azul warriors.
Then, the islands had emptied. The brides had modernized. Across the sea, constrained by the ancient covenant, the city populations declined. Zara was perhaps one of the last sacred brides to join with a warrior in the old way. And that was only because she had been at the sacred island by mistake.
Meanwhile, from Dragao Azul itself, a new voice had risen. Kadir called out to the mer to throw off their old ways, embrace the new, and reveal themselves to the world at large. Break the covenant. Woo and marry modern women according to modern ways.
Kadir’s voice had been compelling — and doomed.
No. Elan would not think of it. Not at this happy house during this peaceful time.
Zara frowned in concern. “Are you okay?”
He twitched. “Yes.”
She didn’t seem convinced.
He refocused on their conversation. It was safer. “Underwater it is different, but seeing the mer flourish is my deepest wish.”
Her expression turned inward. She sipped her wine. “You were so excited for Zain.”
He pivoted and drew her hip against his belly. “I am excited for any young fry with you.”
With her hands full of the tray and wine, she allowed the contact, but did not melt into him as before. She glanced at him out of the sides of her eyes. “You still want a big family?”
“Yes.” And he wanted this warmth. Her bright light. He wanted steadiness and calm for her. “You will be a grandmother like Vaw Vaw someday.”
Her brows rose. Her light burned brighter, proving she was touched, and she gazed on Vaw Vaw surrounded by children. “I could never be her kind of hero.”
He tugged her closer. “You will be your own kind.”
She rested her weight against him, giving in. Only for a moment. He could tell. “We may never know.”
But he did know. Family was what he’d held in his mind, his vision, the sole image keeping him alive and striving when he’d been forced to do the things that turned his stomach and made him question all he’d been taught about goodness, rightness, and honor.
Zara must become such a hero. She must allow the protective love she hid inside to flow out and inspire all. She must share her love freely and shine her beautiful light.
And then perhaps her goodness would atone for all he had done.
“Come to the water with me,” he murmured pushing those nightmares from his mind and concentrating on the softness of her skin at her delicate neck. “I want to swim with you again.”
She took a shuddering breath. “I don’t have my bathing suit.”
“We swim nude as mer.”
“I’m not mer.”
“Zara.”
She took a deep breath and pulled away. “Dinner is almost ready.”
Their talk would come after. He released her slowly. Every time he held her, the craving to keep holding her grew. He was losing his discipline.
Dinner was a volcanic stew of wine-braised beef, searing potatoes, and vegetables in scorching sauces. Peasant food, the relatives called their dishes with self-deprecating charm, but once they were sufficiently cooled, he found the honest flavors to be filling. Zara slathered fluffy bread with melting butter and showed him how to sop up the last tasty bites.
The dinner ended and, after promising Vaw Vaw to return the following day, they departed for home. Zain fell asleep on Elan’s shoulder. Once at the white house, Milly parked and walked in with them to the living room. She seemed to have things she wanted to say, but after one look at Zara’s face, Milly departed for her bedroom with the words left unsaid.
Zara’s nervous gaze flicked over Elan’s body. Her awareness sensitized him. Desire swirled in her soul light. The mood crackled with anticipation. He tasted her hunger on the back of his tongue. They were alone, and she wanted him.
He wanted her.
It was right.
Elan followed Zara toward her bedroom. “Now, we talk.”
She stopped in the doorway. “We’ll wake Zain.”
He evaluated his options.
Zain needed his rest.
She was softened from her time with her family. If he waited until the morning, she might close up again tightly and not let him in.
Elan placed Zain in the damp seaweed in the bathroom tub. Zain snuggled into the familiar weave and cuddled it with a sigh. Good. He would rest well in this familiar ocean texture. Elan straightened.
Zara bit her lip. “This is dangerous.”
Defensiveness rose in him. “Zain cannot easily escape.”
“Exactly. He could turn on the water.”
“This water is not harmful to mer.”
“No, but he could…” She trailed off as a new thought seemed to occur to her. She snorted and rubbed her forehead. “I must be tired. I was thinking something dumb.”
Her soul light plunged to dark.
Curse his defensiveness. Elan moved to her and stroked her arms, striving to bring back her happy confidence. “No concern for our child is dumb.”
“I was afraid he might drown.”
“In the water?”
“Yes. I told you I’m tired.” She turned away, pulling free. “We should talk another time.”
No. That was the last thing that should happen.
He eased in front of her, rested his hand on the door head, and blocked her exit. “The longer you delay, the longer I will remain here, in your house, where you do not wish to have me.”
She seemed conflicted.
He leaned forward. Now was the time to push. Push her to acknowledge how much she did still want him, how much they belonged together, and how she needed to keep him close by forever.
“We talk now.”
7
“Fine,” Zara told the domineering male who demanded they talk now. “Let me by. I have to tell my sister I’ll be to bed late.”
He released the doorframe.
She squeezed past. His hard body brushed hers like a promise. She shivered.
Not because of Elan’s hard, irresistible body. Oh, no. The temperature had dropped with the pressure, and the air seemed to hold its breath with anticipation for rain.
But she didn’t feel cold. She felt hot. On fire.
He crossed his arms and leaned against the frame. Even in a faded dive shop T-shirt and athletic shorts, he was the picture of male virility. “I will wait.”
Those words, and the rough promise that filled them, heated every feminine thread in her body.
She could not fall into their old life as though nothing had changed. Everything had changed. He had to admit it.
So did she.
Zara detoured to the kitchen, poured herself a glass of water, and drank half. The chilling liquid did not quench her body’s sudden fire.
She climbed up the stairs. Her heart thumped fast in her chest.
In the bathroom, when Elan had looked at her with a seductive glow and murmured the longer she delayed the longer he would be here, she’d almost said, “That’s okay.”
And it wasn’t okay. It very much wasn’t okay, and the fact that she even considered it to be okay for an instant was the proof she needed to have this conversation another time.
He’d only emerged from the ocean a few hours ago. He looked gorgeous, but also like he’d been through hell. She’d just met her son. The world was fragile, and she was shaky.
Milly would talk her out of this.
Her sister’s room was a confetti of fluffy purple pillows, a peach and lavender bed set, textured hangings on the walls, and teen posters of hot guys encouraging her to read because smart chicks were hot. Even though she was twenty and finishing her junior year at college, she’d surrounded herself with the comforts of a simpler, younge
r time.
She’d exchanged her contact lenses for serious, purple-rimmed glasses and reviewed homework on the bed, her back against the pillows and unicorn notebooks balanced on her drawn-up knees.
Milly glanced up with a suppressed yawn and removed her earbuds. “Bedtime?”
“Almost.” Zara shifted her weight from foot to foot. “Elan wants to talk.”
She smiled with a knowing look. “I’m sleeping with my music in tonight, so don’t mind me.”
After her kidnapping, Milly had suffered severe nightmares. Only classical music or Zara in the bed next to her had let sleep return to normal again.
“It won’t be long,” Zara insisted. “I have nothing to talk to him about.”
“Okay, take your time.”
Her sister was misunderstanding again.
“I’m not starting anything with him,” Zara said, making a cutting off gesture with the flat of her right hand. “That’s not what’s happening here. We’re not one happy family. Don’t get any ideas.”
Milly lifted one eyebrow as though to say, Ideas? But she hunched over her homework and, in a tone that was far too casual, mentioned, “You brought him here.”
“He had nowhere else to go.”
“You never bring anyone here.”
“And there’s Zain.” Zara shook her head. “Elan’s not staying.”
Milly chewed on her pen eraser. “Why not?”
“Because!” Zara gripped the water glass so hard it sloshed. “How could I even consider it?”
“He’s the father of your child?”
“Yes, and he practically destroyed me! I lost everything. I barely remembered who I was.”
Milly finally looked up. “I know.”
“So—”
“That’s why, when he first appeared, I was ready to dump you at the airport and storm the beach with a shotgun.”
Zara blinked. “A shotgun?”
“You were hurt badly, and I was going to hold him responsible with both barrels. But, Zara, the moment you saw him on that TV, you came alive.”
Sirens and Scales Page 58
