by Judi Fennell
He didn’t have long to wait—only it wasn’t Livingston.
As Rod turned to leave the pier, a whoosh registered in his mind nanoseconds before a small harpoon plunged into his leg.
Then another one sheared off the bottom of his shorts before embedding into the dock behind him with a thud, and Rod didn’t think. He dove off the pier, forgetting to gulp air before hitting the surface. The impact broke the short shaft attached to the harpoon, wrenching metal against bone. Son of a Mer, that hurt!
His vision impaired by the lack of Mer ability, Rod squinted in the murky water, his fingers finding the harpoon before his eyes could. Gritting his teeth as his air ran out, Rod yanked, tissue screaming as it came free.
Head swimming from pain and lack of oxygen, lungs protesting, Rod kicked toward the surface but allowed only his lips and nose to emerge above water. Whoever was out there would be waiting for him to show himself.
Taking a deep breath, he kicked back down. Blood flowed from the wound, carrying his scent out to The Guards, if they were even there. Not that it mattered because, with a land ambush, there was nothing they could do.
And with the birds out of the picture, Rod was on his own.
Chapter 38
Val blinked against the light streaming into her eyes, the sun’s angle high enough for its rays to shine through the downward-slanting blinds directly onto her. She couldn’t remember when she’d slept so late.
A smile curved her lips. She couldn’t remember when she’d slept so well.
She snuggled back and found only the soft give of a pillow, not the rock hard body that had claimed hers last night and again this morning.
Where was Rod?
She struggled out of the sheets, legs flailing as she fought to stand. He wouldn’t have left her and gone back to the ocean, would he? What if he got his tail? Would he just swim off?
She caught herself just before she slid off the bed in an ungainly heap, reminiscent of yesterday morning.
What a difference a day made. In more ways than one.
She smiled and relaxed. No, he wouldn’t have gone. She knew that. She trusted that. She trusted him.
He wouldn’t leave her.
Val managed to get herself off the bed via her two feet and tossed the pillows decorating the floor until she located her clothes. Her shirt was a crumpled mess, but it was a good kind of crumpled. She pulled on her shorts and shoved her tangled hair out of her eyes. She should probably shower, but honestly? She wanted to see him. To remind herself that this wasn’t a dream, that he really had said he loved her and was going to come back with her.
As for the “forever” part… well, no, she didn’t necessarily need the extra reassurance, but it couldn’t hurt.
Walking toward the door, she knocked his T-shirt off the arm of the wicker settee at the end of the bed with her knee. Hmm, maybe, reassurance wasn’t the right word. Relive. Replay. She wanted to relive and replay that moment and those words and feelings all over again.
Putting a sexy sway into her walk once she was done in the bathroom, Val headed for the kitchen. She wouldn’t mind reliving a bunch of things.
Then she rounded the corner, her shoulder knocking into the pantry door, and she had to amend that thought.
A package sat on the table.
From her mom.
Some things were just too painful to relive.
She sidestepped around it as if it were a living thing and took another apple from the refrigerator, fully intending to ignore the small, brown, white elephant sucking all the air out of the kitchen.
But she couldn’t. She wasn’t running away anymore. She would deal with situations and take ownership. Give it her best shot to work everything out—including dealing with the memories.
Taking a deep breath and setting the apple on the counter, Val straightened her shoulders and reached for the string encircling the box—
Only to have someone grab her from behind.
Chapter 39
Rod swam to a pylon, cautiously surfacing beneath the dock. No feet above him. So far, so good. But he had to get inside to protect Valerie.
Blood still flowed from his wound, and it hurt more than the time he’d gotten hooked with a Human fishing rod, part of the survival training all Mers were required to take. A harpoon was worse.
The screen door on the sliders slid open with its telltale screech. He didn’t have time to mull over the pain. Tearing strips from where the second harpoon had ripped his shorts, Rod wrapped them around his leg as a tourniquet. It’d have to do.
Footsteps pounded down the steps from the deck. Good. At least Valerie was safe.
Rod hauled himself to his feet and headed up the beach. Time to end this once and for all.
And then he saw Valerie.
Rod slammed to a halt.
Her arms were secured behind her, tape over her mouth…
And Drake Cabot’s arm wrapped around her shoulders, a harpoon at her throat.
Drake?
Son-of-a-Mer! The bastard had crossed the line. Drake had always been bitter about not inheriting the throne, but to actually attempt this? He’d never been the brightest anglerfish in the sea. Rod never thought he’d actually try something so heinous. Treason. No one had considered it, or Drake would never have gotten this far.
But the fright in Valerie’s beautiful eyes and that weapon brought home how real it was.
“What’s the matter, Rod? Catfish got your tongue?” Drake jerked Valerie toward the dock.
That got him walking again. Running actually, because if Drake got them to deep water, Rod would be useless without his tail. He intercepted them before they could get onto the dock.
“You want to explain how you expect to get away with this, Drake?”
Drake stopped, gauging the distance to the water. He’d have to get past Rod. With Valerie.
Rod wasn’t about to let that happen.
“It doesn’t look like I need to do anything, Rod.” Drake nodded at Rod’s leg. “That isn’t healing, and, pardon me if I’m wrong, but didn’t you just climb out of the ocean with legs? Looks like the gods have decided it for us.” He took a step to the left.
Rod mirrored it. “Don’t underestimate me, Drake.”
“Right.” Drake feinted right, dragging Valerie. That harpoon was too close. “You might have beat me when you had a tail, but I guarantee you’ll be singing a different tune now. The throne is mine. And so is she.”
“Not while I have breath left in my body.” Rod crouched, ready to spring whichever way Drake moved next, wanting to reassure Valerie but knowing he couldn’t risk taking his eyes off the slimy eel.
“Yeah, see, there’s the sticking point.” Drake jostled the harpoon at his stupid joke. But then he got serious. He yanked Valerie back against him, the harpoon at her jugular, and Rod found himself trying to not breathe for her.
“Give it up, Rod. You can’t possibly hope to win this and we don’t need any unnecessary bloodshed. You know how quickly the sharks can smell it in the water. All your Guards out there aren’t going to be able to save her from Hammerhead Harry if I decide to let him have her.”
“Let her go, Drake.” Rod thrust his hands to his sides, fists clenched. It figured Drake would have Harry on his payroll. What didn’t figure is why Harry would want to be. The shark was much smarter than Drake.
“And lose my bargaining shell? I don’t think so. Now get out of my way.”
“No.”
“What? What do you mean ‘no’? Do you see what I can do to her?” He slid the harpoon along Valerie’s jaw, drawing a thin line of blood.
Rod saw red. “But you won’t.”
“Are you willing to bet on it?” He leaned down to Valerie’s ear. “Pity he’s ready to toss you to the sharks so easily.”
Her eyes narrowed, a
flash of anger in them. Ha. Drake was swimming up the wrong reef with that one. Rod would have grinned if not for the very real chance Drake would do exactly what he said.
“Get out of my way, Tritone. Your time in the sun is over.” Drake plastered himself to Valerie’s back.
Rod had to keep Drake talking until he figured something out or until Drake screwed up.
“You put the bomb in the trench.”
“No kidding. It should have been a one-two punch, but your stupid father sent out a security team at the last minute.” Drake shook his head. “Only you could get so lucky. But your luck’s run out. Now get out of my way.” The harpoon nicked the soft skin of Valerie’s throat.
Rod held off lunging at them. There was no telling what Drake would do.
Rod had said he’d kill for her; no time like the present.
He glanced behind him. Thirty feet of dock stood between him and Valerie’s safety.
“The Council will never appoint you High Councilman, Drake.”
“The Council doesn’t have a choice. I’m next in line. Nothing in that clause says anything about being squeaky clean, only who your ancestors are. I can’t believe you and Reel never considered you might not be safe in your privileged little world. Besides, I have her. Now move, Tritone.”
Drake’s hand was shaking on the harpoon. Rod took a step back. “Why should we have been worried? There was never any threat.”
Drake’s face turned red. “Never? Are you really that clueless? What about the time your anglerfish died in the middle of the passageway on the cavern field trip, leaving you stranded in the dark? You think that was an accident? Or when you had to escape from that shark feeding frenzy during Spring Break? The electric ray ‘trapped’ in your bedchamber? Then there was the boat propeller incident.”
Rod remembered those accidents. They’d started about twenty selinos ago and had seemed par for the course in the dangerous world of the sea.
Zeus. Drake had been planning this for a long time.
Reel’s rejection of Merhood had only encouraged Drake’s attempts at the throne. And now, it looked as if he’d succeeded.
Damn the gods for taking his tail! What he wouldn’t give to get it back.
He took another step backward as Drake moved forward, closing the gap between them. He had to let Drake think he was getting his way, but he’d take a harpoon to the gut before he’d let Drake hurt Valerie.
“So what’s the big plan now, Drake? Kill me? You really think that’s going to swim with The Council? They’ll petition the gods.”
“Give it a break, will you, Rod? It won’t matter. You’ll be dead, and it’ll be my word against hers. A Hybrid.” Drake shrugged. “Actually, it won’t even be against hers. Why in the sea would they put any stock in what a half-Human has to say? There must be something missing in your family’s genes. First your brother hooks up with a Human, now you’re bringing one back… Hades, the gods will be thrilled that I put our race out of that misery.”
He shook his head then wrapped his arm around Valerie’s neck, bringing her to a halt about ten feet from the end of the dock. “Now, we can make it painful and messy, or you can just stand there.” He brandished the harpoon. “I promise to make it quick. I’ll let her go after you’re dead.”
Drake never had been one of the smartest sardines in the can; the current situation proved it.
“If you think I’m going to let you run a harpoon through me, you’re even more deluded than anyone ever thought you were. And trust me, that’s saying something. A High Councilman doesn’t give up the throne without a fight.”
Drake jerked Valerie back against him, his face twisted in anger. He adjusted his grip on the harpoon as if testing its weight. His fingers closed around the shaft and his eyes narrowed. “You and your stupid chivalry, Rod. Whatever. Just shut up and die, already.”
Thrusting Valerie aside, Drake lunged.
Oh no he didn’t.
Val butted her head at the last second, knocking the harpoon out of whack enough so it glanced off Rod’s arm.
Rod barreled into Drake, taking them both down onto the dock, the harpoon shaft clattering beneath them. Val jumped out of the way, trying to work her hands free from the duct tape. Damn, that stuff should be registered as a lethal weapon. It was cutting off her circulation and her air.
Drake whipped Rod onto his back then grabbed for the harpoon.
Val kicked it aside, cursing that she couldn’t pick the damn thing up. Cursing that she couldn’t curse.
Drake fell on top of Rod and began pummeling him. “You. Son. Of. A. Mer.” Each word punctuated a punch.
Val winced. She had to find a way to help Rod.
Rod smacked his forehead against Drake’s with a crack! She winced again. Okay, not going to try that.
Drake went limp long enough for Rod to buck him off—right on top of the shaft again.
Damn it. How the hell could she help Rod if she couldn’t get her hands free? She had to get that harpoon.
And then she saw another harpoon embedded at the far end of the dock. She ran over to it while Rod proceeded to flay the skin from Drake.
“Don’t you ever”—Rod let a punch fly—“go”—another punch—“after her”—and another—“again.” Two more this time.
Drake growled and pounded his fist on the wound in Rod’s thigh.
Rod roared.
Val kneeled on the dock, maneuvering her wrists next to that harpoon, then sawed like a madwoman.
Drake tossed Rod off him, scrambling to his feet and grabbing the harpoon. He aimed it at Rod.
Val tried to shout out a warning, screaming for all she was worth behind the duct tape. It wasn’t enough.
Drake jabbed.
The tape on her wrists gave way.
Rod rolled to the side, right into the water.
Drake—and the harpoon—went in after him.
Val didn’t hesitate. Taking off at a run, she ripped the tape from her mouth and dove off the dock.
Chapter 40
So many things happened at once that Val wasn’t sure what was what.
She lost sight of the men as hundreds of dolphins herded into the water around her, clicks, squeals, angry directives, and clipped orders filling the churning water, wayward tails and flippers spinning her upside down and sideways.
A searing, ripping pain slammed into her legs and she sucked in a gallon of water.
Dammit! So much for her noble act. She was allergic to the ocean and now she was going to go into shock and die, just when she’d finally found what she wanted in life. Someone to be with, have a family with, someone who made her stop running—and now this.
Another thwack of a tail sent her tumbling sideways. Where was Rod? Was he okay? Alive?
She shuddered when she thought how close that harpoon had come to him. If only Drake hadn’t surprised her in the kitchen, Rod wouldn’t be in this mess. She wouldn’t be in this mess.
Christ. Even when she tried to be responsible and good, her life went to hell.
She should have left yesterday. Just grabbed the diamond and gotten on with her life where the only things oceanic would be the stuff in Mom’s store and Flight 815 from her favorite television show—
Wait a minute.
Why wasn’t she choking? Gasping for breath? Why had the pain in her legs stopped? Why was she able to see the dolphins more clearly? Hear their words? Swim easily…
Val looked down. Beneath the hem of her shirt was…
… a tail.
She blinked, then rubbed her eyes with her fists. She looked back down.
She had a tail.
Shimmery pale pink, the tips iridescent mother-of-pearl, the scales melded with her skin like a glittery belt beneath her waist. She flicked the fins, her torn shorts falling away with a powerful surge of musc
le, and the silky caress of water flowed over it.
Holy mackerel!
Val looked around at the swirling gray bodies, her breath coming in short pants—but she wasn’t breathing air. That was water coming out of her mouth… and water going in…
Then someone grabbed her from behind and her breathing—if that’s what it was called—stopped altogether.
“Back off or the girl gets it.” A bad line from a bad movie. With one bad-ass point stuck in her neck.
That answered the question of where Drake was, but what about Rod?
The dolphins formed a semi-circle around them while Drake dragged her this way and that, his arm binding hers to her sides while he backed away from those closest to them.
Something beige and finny flicked by her side. Drake had a tail, too.
“You can’t hope to get away,” one of the dolphins said—clear as day, which freaked her out enough to make her suck in another pint or two of water.
Which only freaked her out more.
“I don’t have to hope, Lisa. I’ve got her.” Drake shook Val around the middle, causing her head to jiggle and the harpoon to nick her neck.
Damn that hurt. Not to mention, it added blood to the water.
Oh, wonderful. What were these Mer people like around sharks? When Drake’s arm tightened, she figured he probably had a great relationship with them.
So not comforting.
Oh my God. She was a mermaid! It was enough—almost—to make her forget that she had a crazy person with a lethal weapon half-wrapped around her.
Then the dolphin—Lisa, of all things—spoke, and Val remembered exactly where she was, who she was with… and who she wasn’t with.
“It’s Lieutenant Brackmann to you, Cabot. Now let her go. It’s over.”
Drake laughed, still dragging her backwards. She wondered where he was going, since she would’ve thought the open sea would afford him more avenues of escape, but he made no move to head deeper.
This was what she was contemplating while faced with talking dolphins? Being kidnapped? A tail?
