by Judi Fennell
“It’s not over, Lieutenant. Not while Rod’s still tailless and I have her. The Council will pay any price to keep her alive.”
They would? Oh… that princess thing. She’d forgotten about that on top of everything else. Or was it the prophecy?
She didn’t know, didn’t care, and just wanted to get out of here. She definitely didn’t want anything to do with tails and councils and talking fish and mermen—especially if it didn’t include Rod.
Rod crawled into the shallows, barely able or willing to salute The Guards who’d propelled him out of harm’s way onto the beach, hating the fact that he’d turned tail and run.
Well, no. The Guards had taken the decision to fight from him, citing orders. And even if he’d wanted to turn tail and run, he couldn’t because he didn’t have a fucking tail.
How did the gods expect him to save her if he couldn’t fight Drake in the water?
He flung the hair from his eyes, scanning the sea. The occasional dolphin breaching to refill his or her lungs was the only sign something was happening beneath the surface… something Rod had no control over, no say in.
It was as if all his rule-following, test-taking, law-studying hours—his atonement for the mess he’d made of Reel’s life—were for nothing as he sat here, helpless. What had he done that was so gods-awful to merit stripping him of his tail? Where had it all gotten him?
Stranded on some beach, unable to save the woman he loved.
He stood up, frustrated that he could. Frustrated that he felt helpless. Frustrated that everything he’d worked for, all the time he’d put in, the effort, the energy, the guilt that had kept him striving toward the gods’—and his father’s—idea of the perfect High Councilman, had been for nothing.
But Drake, the slippery fish, who would never live up to the High Councilman reputation, who was only out for himself, had dared to come after him. Rod couldn’t believe the oily bottom-feeder had swum so far below the sonar no one had seen this coming.
So how did Drake hope to pull it off? He had to have known The Guards would move in the minute he hit the water. He couldn’t hope to escape.
Unless…
Rod kicked the sand. Damn it! The Council had constructed a Travel Chamber portal here for Reel and Erica’s wedding—a portal only Council members were supposed to know about.
Drake’s father was on The Council.
Rod jammed his hands into the pockets of the stupid shorts he still wore. If Drake got Valerie to that portal, there was no telling where on the planet they’d end up. Rod would lose her for good and Drake would have the most powerful bargaining shell ever.
Nigel, with all his pomposity and hopes for the throne, had broken a cardinal rule by sharing portal information with his son, and The Council, with all their stipulations and protocol, hadn’t been able to prevent it. They’d failed him.
He kicked a piece of driftwood with the gods-forsaken toes on his gods-forsaken foot. The gods had failed him too. He’d played by everyone’s rules and look where it’d gotten him.
Talk about a failure of epic proportions.
Well no more. He’d paid for the dare; a dare that, apparently, had worked out well for all concerned except him. Even when he’d done all the gods and The Council had asked of him, it’d done nothing for him: Valerie’s life was at risk.
Screw their rules and their orders. He was going to save her, fallout be damned.
He scanned Reel’s shoreline and found the perfect solution. A Jet Ski. It was fast enough to take him out there, hopefully before Drake reached the portal. Rod took off toward the ski.
“Rod!” Livingston dropped out of the sky in a move worthy of an osprey, the rest of the newly arrived air cavalry remaining high above. “The Guards have him surrounded. It should be over soon.”
Rod shook his head. “Don’t count on it. Drake’s a lot smarter than anyone gave him credit for and there’s a portal out there. I’ve got to do something.” He lunged around Livingston in a full-out run toward the Jet Ski.
Livingston wasn’t the Chief of the ASA for nothing. The bird zipped in front of him, flapping his wingspan at shoulder height with enough strength to force Rod to a halt. “Are you crazy? What do you think you’re going to do in your present condition? Five minutes underwater and you’ll be a goner. My orders are to keep you beached. You’re The Heir, for Apollo’s sake. You can’t risk your life.”
“Am I The Heir, Livingston? How can I be without a damn tail? But it doesn’t matter anyway because Valerie’s with him. As far as I’m concerned, they’ve lost my loyalty by putting her in danger.” He feinted left then took off to the right around the gull.
He and Livingston had trained under the same War Tactics instructors so he didn’t get very far. “And who’s going to save you, Rod, when you’re drowning?”
“He can’t hold two of us at once.” Rod scrambled beneath Livingston.
The seagull flicked his wings and ended up back in front of Rod again, but at least Rod had gotten closer to the Jet Ski.
“Rod, you can’t put yourself at risk. It’s against every rule we have. As The Heir, you must be protected at all costs.”
“Really? Where was that rule when we were dodging the fish and the peregrines?” Rod ran forward, but Livingston didn’t budge. “I don’t care what the gods want, Livingston. I don’t care what The Council decrees. I will not let Drake have her and if they don’t like it, they can keep the damn tail. I won’t need it in Kansas anyway. Now get out of my way.” He swung his hand beneath the bird, connecting squarely with his stomach, sending him tumbling through the air.
Rod ran the last few feet to the craft, tossed off the mooring line, then put his studies of Human mechanisms to work as he got the thing running on the first try. Thank the gods there were some benefits to all those hours locked in his father’s study.
He nosed the Jet Ski toward The Guards just as Livingston returned.
“You’re going to get yourself killed, Rod.”
“Not if you help me, Livingston. Get them”—he waved skyward—“to show me where she is. I am not going to lose her.”
He cranked the gear and churned water as he peeled away from the dock.
Chapter 41
The harpoon nicked Val’s neck again as Lieutenant Brackmann refused to retreat. Val was hoping the dolphin would, if only to get Drake to relax his hold, even for a second.
She’d been surreptitiously testing her tail movements as Drake had backed them away, trying to get the hang of it. It wasn’t all that difficult, surprisingly. Simply kick her legs in unison like the butterfly swim stroke. All she needed to escape was a moment or two when the harpoon wasn’t in the vicinity of her jugular.
This time, running was a good thing and the distraction of an approaching boat gave her the opportunity.
Drake looked toward the surface, his hold slackening enough for Val to whip her tail sideways and twist out of his grasp, her hands poised to grab the harpoon.
Surprise was on her side as she managed to get a few good tail whips in, throwing him off balance, and his one-handed grasp on the shaft wasn’t enough to fend off her attack. Within seconds she held the weapon.
She had to hand it to Drake, however. He didn’t let any seaweed grow under his tail. He took one look at the harpoon in her hands, a second look at the closing ranks of dolphins, and kicked so hard a wave of water sent her tumbling back into the lieutenant, giving Drake enough lead time to veer sideways toward a pile of debris.
Val didn’t wait to see what other weapon he had hidden there. She swam out of the dolphins’ way, hugging the harpoon to her like a lover, and let the dolphins move in for the capture.
Tail action churned the water around her, so it was a few moments before she realized the boat engine had stopped. Now what? Had the Coast Guard sent out a team? Would all the Mer secrecy be blown to high heav
en?
Then she looked up and saw… Rod.
Swimming down to her—
With a tail.
And at that moment she didn’t care that she was a mermaid and he was a merman and they were the stuff of myth and legend. She didn’t care that whatever fantastical world he’d told her about truly did exist. All she cared about was that he was here.
And then he was there. In her arms.
Or she was in his?
Did it really matter?
No. All that really mattered was that he was kissing her and she was kissing him and she wasn’t about to let him go.
Until he pulled back to cradle her face in his hands, the look in his eyes almost drowning her. She’d laugh about that pun later.
“Gods, I thought I’d lost you.” He kissed her again.
“You didn’t.”
He brushed his lips over her cheeks. “I know.”
“Rod?”
“Mmmm?” he murmured beneath her ear.
“Why do I have a tail? Why do you?”
“Hmm… I—what?” He thrust her back, still holding her at arm’s length, and they both looked at the navy blue tail. “Holy Hades, it’s back.”
Throwing her disbelief to the wind, er, current, Val went with the flow and laughed. “I’ll say it is. Pretty impressive, too. That’s one whale of a tail you’ve got there, Rod.”
“Actually”—Rod turned sideways, glancing behind him, still not letting her go—“this isn’t my tail.”
“Hate to break it to you, but it’s definitely attached to your body.” And she knew that body…
“I know. I mean, this isn’t the tail I had before.”
“Okay, that’s making even less sense to me than this whole breathing-beneath-the-water/tail/fish thing we have going that I’m trying really hard not to overanalyze.” Or she’d go crazy. “And why do you have a tail now? Why do I?”
He looked at her, still holding onto her arms, now stroking them with his thumbs, and Val didn’t delude herself that the shivers rippling over her skin had anything to do with the water flowing around them as the dolphins searched the area.
“Valerie, I told you that you were half-Mer. That’s why you have a tail. As to mine, I have no idea why it’s back now. But this isn’t my normal tail. This one’s larger, and the color… it looks like my father’s tail.”
“Your father?” The High Councilman… the leader of The Council… the ruler of the oceans… the head of Atlantis… She was trying to piece together all the facts he’d thrown at her into one, coalescent body of knowledge and let it register that all of this was really true.
“Yes, just like my father’s.”
“So does he have yours?”
He raised an eyebrow at her. “That’s crazy. Tails don’t switch bodies.”
She shrugged out of his hold and planted her hands on her hips… er, scales. “Well excuse me for not knowing proper tail etiquette. At least it came back. Besides, what difference does it make if it’s bigger?”
He waggled his eyebrows. “Trust me, Valerie. Size matters.”
She groaned and rolled her eyes. “Trust me, Rod. It’s not the size of the… um… ship, but the motion in the ocean.”
It was his turn to groan, but he reached for her anyway, pulling her against that hard, sculpted torso. “Bad, bad pun.”
“But good, good plan, thankyouverymuch.” She smiled up at him.
“Plan?”
“Yep. I was trying to get away from Drake and needed a distraction. Your arrival was perfect. Speaking of which”—she peered around him to see dolphins milling around, the frenzy of going after Drake having abated—“what happened to him?”
Rod followed her gaze and let out a whistle, followed by those tongue-clicks she’d been hearing. Lieutenant Brackmann swam over.
The fact that Val could tell which dolphin it was didn’t surprise her—which should bother her, but didn’t.
“Sir?”
“Lieutenant, what’s the situation?” Rod asked.
The dolphin shook her head. “He’s disappeared. We’re not sure how. There are no known portals in the vicinity.”
“Oh, there’s a portal here, all right, only it’s not common knowledge.” Rod made an executive decision. He had the new and improved tail; he assumed that meant he was now The High Councilman. And if so, he could use the power that went along with it. To Hades with The Council’s rules. If The Guard had been apprised about the portal, Drake might not have escaped.
He pointed to the pile of debris. “It’s there, but where Drake exited is anyone’s guess.”
The dolphin bowed her head. “Then we lost him.”
“For now, but it’s not your fault, lieutenant. He had information you didn’t. You should have been informed.”
The dolphin’s perpetual grin widened, and she nodded toward Rod’s tail. “I can see things will be different under your reign, Sir. And if I may say so, thank you. It will make our jobs easier. I’ll inform my pod and send contingents through the portal to all known exits. We’ll get him.”
As The Guards dispersed to continue the search for Drake, Rod was aware of Valerie’s scrutiny. “What?”
“What you said earlier. About a High Councilman not giving up his throne without a fight… Did you mean it? Are you really going to fight for the throne? Now that you can?”
Rod pulled her back into his arms. “No. I promised you we’d go to Kansas and I’m not going back on my word. The Mer world has been around for millions of selinos without me. Not having me on the throne isn’t going to bring it down.”
“But Drake will inherit. You can’t do that.”
That gave him a chuckle. “Actually, he won’t. That’s one good thing to come out of all those hours I spent studying, which, obviously, Drake didn’t do. There is a stipulation about murder—and attempted murder. It automatically negates the succession, so the minute he set out on this journey, he doomed himself. But I couldn’t tell him that while he had you in his arms. No telling what he might have done.”
“So if he’s not next in line, who is?
That gave him another chuckle. And after the scare he’d had about losing her, he’d take them where he could get them. “Who? You really want to know?”
“Why wouldn’t I?”
“Oh, I don’t know. Maybe because it might alter your plans for the future.”
“Rod, what are you talking about?”
“You, Valerie. Through your father, you are next in line for the throne.”
If she weren’t buoyed by water, he would’ve bet she’d have fallen down at that statement. As it was, she was fluttering water into her mouth, and he was afraid she’d hyperhydrate.
“Me? How can I be in line for the throne?”
He held out his hand. “Come on. Let’s go somewhere private and talk.”
Valerie took it. “Where? It’s a pretty big ocean.”
“Back at Reel’s house.”
“His house? Rod, in case you haven’t noticed, we’re bound to attract attention the minute we leave the water to go up the beach. I thought that was something to be avoided?”
Rod tucked her arm beneath his. “You’ll see.”
She cocked her head, her curls floating around her like a corkscrew halo… which was so appropriate for her. “All right, but I want to get the package Tricia sent me. After all this craziness, I could really use some normalcy.”
Normalcy. Rod didn’t know the meaning of the word any more. But he was going to.
And it’d be what he decided, not what The Council decreed. Tail or not.
Chapter 42
After Rod swam to the surface to instruct Livingston to bring them the package, Val followed Rod beneath the dock to a hatch his brother had concealed in the depths. He led her through a long, upwa
rd-sloping tunnel until the water level gradually receded and they were below a ladder leading to a room—and air—above.
Rod pulled himself up the ladder, one strong tail-kick propelling him onto a platform. Seated there, his tail hanging over the edge, he reached down to help her up.
“Don’t worry about breathing, Valerie. Your lungs will adjust. We utilize water and air as needed.”
She wasn’t worried. After all the upheavals in her life, at least this time she had someone to share it with. “What is this place?”
The room was outfitted with eight cots made of thick, braided rope, more knotted ropes hanging like bell-pulls from the ceiling, several fans and heating lamps on the walls, and thick, white towels piled on each makeshift bed.
One of the beds had half a dozen discarded towels strewn over it. Rod cursed and gathered them, tossing them into a clothes hamper.
“This is part of the hill beneath Reel’s house. He built it so our family and The Council could attend their wedding. We use it now to visit. It’s a secure place to quickly dry out our tails and go into the Human world without revealing ourselves.” He pointed to another hatch in the ceiling. “That opens into Reel’s basement. Obviously, Drake found out about it and used it to sneak into the house.”
So Drake had been in here, drying out his tail, while they’d slept—among other things—upstairs. God, that was just creepy.
She rubbed her thighs to ward off the ick factor. No. Wait. Scratch that. She rubbed her tail—and the funny thing was, there was no ick factor to that.
Val propped her chin on her palm and stared at her new appendage. Shimmery and pink—she had a tail.
“I can get my legs back, right?” She stroked the smooth iridescent scales, amazed at so many things at once, she didn’t know which to consider first—although not being allergic to the ocean was a biggie.
Why Mom had lied to her was another.
Rod linked his hand with hers. “Yes, you can. You can even keep them permanently if you want.”
“Permanently?” She looked up. “As in, I’ll be able to stay on land and won’t ever have to have a tail again?”
