MERMADMEN (The Mermen Trilogy Book 2)

by Mimi Jean Pamfiloff

  “Hello, Liv. My name is Naylor, I am an elder here on this island, and in the absence of our leader, I am charged with administering the laws.”

  Liv got up from the army green cot she’d been sitting on. “Where’s Roen?” she asked, grabbing the bars of her cell.

  “Gone,” answered Naylor, “to face his fate.”

  “Is he…is he…” She couldn’t say it.

  “Dead?” the man said for her. “Not yet, but he soon will be.”

  She gripped the bars firmly to hold herself upright. She didn’t know how to describe what was happening inside her, but it felt like her heart was suffocating and collapsing in on itself under the weight of her rage. Pure, ugly, hateful rage.

  “And Dana?”

  “Dana’s life has been spared, and she’s left the island.”

  That was surely a good thing, but it didn’t take away the fact that Roen was about to die.

  He went on, “In your case, dear, I’m afraid the deal Roen struck cannot be honored. It has come to our attention that you have broken our most sacred law. For this, you shall be executed.”

  Liv’s eyes narrowed. “What did I do?”

  “You think because we are here, isolated from your world, that we do not monitor what happens? We make it our business to know everything—do not let our primitive dress fool you, Liv.” Naylor made a juicy cough and then swallowed the glob.

  “You can save the superiority lectures,” Liv said acrimoniously, “and tell me what the fuck you think I’ve done so we can get this over with.”

  “In such a hurry to die?” Naylor said.

  “No. I’m sick and tired of these games, especially the island’s. I mean, really. She has you idiots so wrapped up in myths and archaic traditions that you’ve all become blind to the fact that she has absolutely zero control over you.”

  Naylor gave her a look like he wanted to carry out the execution right then and there.

  “Oh no—” Liv threw up her hands “—did the silly landlover upset you? Or is the island buzzing away in your ears right now, telling you I’m a liar?”

  “Are you claiming you’re not?” he asked with a condescending smile.

  “Yes. I’m also free of any brainwashing because I haven’t been digesting a steady diet of bullshit for hundreds of generations. You do not need her to survive. She needs you. She feeds off of you.”

  “You were right, my dear,” Naylor said, shaking his bony finger, “you are a silly landlover. Because without her, life on Earth cannot survive. She is the key to the circle of life.”

  Liv wasn’t so sure about that.

  “Looks more to me like a food chain than a circle. And you are higher up, yet you insist on letting her pretend it’s the other way around. But I will hand it to her; she’s a master manipulator. She made all these rules and you guys follow her like sheep. Meanwhile, the only rule she obeys is keeping herself on top.”

  Naylor cocked his head. “Your attempt to circumvent death is understandable. But I will not allow you to dishonor us with your insults.”

  Liv lifted her chin, gripping the bars. “They’re the truth.”

  “The only part of your logic I agree with is that there is a pecking order among life on this planet. And your species is somewhere beneath the cockroach.”

  Liv laughed and crossed her arms. “Oh really? Then how come you need us to have children and to guard your island? You can’t have babies on your own. And your history proves that you men can’t protect the island on your own. I believe the name ‘El Corazón’ was meant to remind you of that.” Yeah, the men had their butts kicked by Spanish explorers, and the maids saved the day. “So without us landlover-ladies, you’d all die off. Therefore, in the scheme of things, I’d argue you’re beneath me. You, your men, and your fucking idiot of an island. The only person who was worth a damn was Roen, but you just proved your superiority by fucking that one up, too. What a bunch of asshats.” Liv released an accomplished sigh and grinned. “Okay. Now I’m ready to die.”

  Naylor’s nostrils flared with abhorrence and his pale wrinkly skin flushed. “Seems we agree on something.” He called out over his shoulder and two men appeared, one being Jason.

  “Throw her to the maids,” Naylor ordered.

  “Wait!” Liv said. “You never told me what I did.”

  “You gave a landlover—a doctor Fuller—a sample of our water. She’s made public claims that she’s discovered a substance that can cure any illness.”

  Dr. Fuller had attended to her and Dana after they’d both had “episodes.” First Liv then Dana. After running blood tests and discovering an unknown substance in Liv’s system, Dana then experienced a very suspicious attack and ended up in the ER later that night. Liv miraculously had sacred water on hand to save Dana.

  What a conniving bitch! No, Liv didn’t know how the island had gotten to Dana and made her sick to begin with, but it all felt like another well-orchestrated event. The strangest part was that three weeks later, Dr. Fuller confronted Liv with more lab tests and told her she’d dreamed of the “miracle drug” found in her blood. Liv chalked it up to a nosy doctor and coincidence. Now Liv knew that was ridiculous.

  “Well,” Liv sighed, “I realize no one is interested in the real story, so I’ll just say that I didn’t tell or give anything to Dr. Fuller. Regardless, the circumstances miraculously played out in favor of D.B.”

  “Who is D.B.?”

  “Your island. I’ve renamed her Dirty Bitch. Because she’s made of dirt. And she’s a bitch. I’m hoping it will stick like the El Corazón name.”

  Naylor left, shaking his head, while Jason and the other man stayed behind.

  “What are you waiting for, Jason?” Liv snarled. “Throw me to the maids.”

  A moment of regret flickered in his green eyes. “I’m sorry, Liv.”

  “Is that sorry enough to let me go?” she asked.

  “No. I cannot disobey orders.” He glanced down at his bare feet.

  “Then let’s get this over with.”

  When they took her from the holding cell, she felt tempted to make sheep sounds to taunt them, but she wanted to use her few remaining moments to think of the truly wonderful things in her life: those whom she loved, especially Roen. She remembered coming across a story in one of the texts in the library about how the mermen believed they would be united in the afterlife with their mates. The sketches in the book were of a man and a woman, nude and embracing on a beach, passionately kissing in a From Here to Eternity moment. She remembered sighing, thinking how wonderful it would be if something that sinful awaited everyone after they passed on. An eternal make-out session with the man you loved.

  She straightened her spine. Think of that, Liv. Think of being with Roen, in his arms, kissing his lips. Just think of that.

  The two men walked with Liv to the beach, where the final rays of sunlight sank into the horizon. They called out in a strange language reminding her of Greek or Latin. Within seconds, yellow eyes and reams of flowing black hair rose like a haunting nightmare from the calm waves.

  Liv’s urge to run for her life kicked in right when the men threw her in. Claws dug into her flesh and razor-sharp teeth bit into her arms and legs. She screamed, but the salty water entered her mouth and smothered her voice.

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  Roen had been swimming less than ten hours when his body finally gave out. Exhausted, he flipped onto his back and stared up at the early morning sky. The pastel blue seemed so flat and mundane compared to the sky over the island, and he welcomed the hell out of it.

  “Aah!” A cramp shot through his leg. Every muscle felt like he’d put them through a meat grinder. His skin felt raw from the exposure to the salt. His lungs burned from a night of inhaling, and then coughing out, buckets of water.

  Meanwhile, Shane was well on his way to Amatignak. Hell, he’s probably there by now. For the record, the fastest humans swam an average of four point five miles per hour—not much faster than s
peed-walking. It would take that same person eighteen days to make a two-thousand-mile journey if they somehow swam nonstop. Impossible, of course. A well-trained merman like Shane, however, swam ten miles per hour, which meant he’d make the two-thousand-mile journey in a little over eight days.

  Whichever way Roen sliced it, there would be no beating Shane even if he wanted to. Which he did not. Roen had come to genuine terms with his fate, settling any remaining thoughts of resistance somewhere between mile three—after he’d miraculously avoided becoming mermaid food—and mile forty when his nature to push back and fight began urging him to turn this around.

  Roen, this is the one time you must defy yourself. You cannot back out, because you know what will happen. Liv would die. The men would suffer.

  “You must face the end like a merman with honor and bravery,” he mumbled to himself.

  “Brave? You are not brave,” said a toxic feminine voice. “You are a worthless, useless traitor, Roen. And now that you see there is no limit to my power, no distance too far, no task too low or cruel to punish those who defy me, I hope your final thoughts will be of me and how you should’ve bowed down to me, merman.”

  Roen held his breath and treaded water, wondering if his mind wasn’t playing tricks on him.

  “Well? Don’t you have anything to say, merman? Perhaps you might start with admitting how wrong you were to break your vow.”

  “I vowed to protect you and lead those men. I didn’t break anything.”

  “You vowed to give your heart to me! You vowed obedience in exchange for saving that little bitch’s life!” she roared so loudly, his eye sockets reverberated.

  “I couldn’t. Liv is the only thing in this world I can’t live without.”

  “Because you’re weak, Roen. Weak and unfit to lead. Unfit to save anyone. Unfit to live. The same goes for everyone who followed you.”

  A burning sensation exploded on his face and inside his eyes. He screamed in agony, feeling the sunlight sear straight through his skin and lids, singeing the nerves and muscles. The pain felt like hot oil thrown in the eyes.

  “That’s right, Roen,” she chuckled her words. “Who’s the mighty warrior now? Where are all your ships and your men? How about that money you love so much? I am the only real power.”

  Roen instinctively dove down to escape the burning rays of the sun, but the pain wouldn’t stop. It was enough to drive a man over the edge and slice his own throat.

  Sadly, there were no knives here.

  As best as he could, Roen relaxed his body and thought of the beautiful place he’d read about in one of his people’s many stories. It was a place where those you loved greeted you with open arms. Where sadness, anger, and regret didn’t exist. Suffering was for those in the physical world. Roen was not a religious man, nor could he claim to be spiritual, but imagining such a place gave him comfort. He pictured Liv in a skimpy bikini, running in the waves, her long dark hair blowing in the wind, her smile so bright it could warm the coldest heart. He pictured holding her in his arms and telling her he loved her more than any man had ever loved a woman since the dawn of time. Roen visualized every detail of his perfect world with the woman he loved; meanwhile his body sank lower and lower into the dark, cold, foreboding abyss of the North Pacific.

  Just let go, Roen. Let go…

  A cool hand on his wrist and the jolting pain of his skin being pierced snapped him into a shallow moment of lucidity. Bright yellow eyes flickered at him.

  Was he dreaming?

  The mermaid’s eyes narrowed, and she dug her nails deep into his arm, eliciting a garbled scream; meanwhile she swam so fast the resistance of the water tugged at his raw, cold skin.

  His head broke through the surface, and the maid slammed her fist straight into his stomach. He coughed hard, projecting a stream of salty water.

  The maid released her grip and cupped his face, staring deeply into his eyes. “We count on you. Save us,” she said in a scratchy, nearly inaudible animal voice. “You fight, merman. And you fucking swim.”

  What the foke?

  “You know I was trying to help you?” he asked.

  The maid nodded. “Swim.”

  How could he?

  “Who are you?” he asked. More importantly, why hadn’t she eaten him?

  “Swim, merman! You win,” she replied, pulling him along.

  He spit some water from his mouth. “I can’t win,” he panted, waves splashing his face. “And if I could, the island will know you helped me. Either way, I lose.” Then she’ll go back to punishing everyone. If she wasn’t planning to do that already.

  “She can’t hurt them,” said the maid with her unnatural voice, “if they don’t let her.”

  “What did you say?”

  The maid stopped swimming and carefully pushed out her words. “Shut her out. Shut her out.”

  “What do you mean?”

  The maid poked at the skin over his heart. “Close here. You let in. You push out.”

  The mermaid’s words kicked down the walls of the dark cave he’d been living in since coming to the island. He had chosen to let the island in the night he fought for leadership. He had decided. He let her into his heart. So it only served to reason he could shut her out, and if he could, they all could.

  “Wait,” he told the maid. Roen clenched his eyes shut and attempted to imagine his heart closing, but nothing happened.

  He opened his eyes. “I’m not sure I know how,” he said to the maid.

  The maid swam a few laps around his body and then popped her head up. “Speak to her. Say she must go.” The maid pointed to his head and poked him with her black claw.

  He thought he understood what she meant—tell her to leave. Plain and simple. But could it be that? So simple? It was worth a try.

  This time Roen closed his eyes and silently said, I no longer accept you. You are no longer welcome in my heart. I revoke my connection with you. He visualized the doors in his heart slamming shut and blocking out the intruder.

  Light instantly poured inside his mind, filling every dark corner with vivid clarity. Every minute of every day for the last three months had been shrouded in a murky cloud. “Bloody hell. She’s been blinding me.” Fresh images and thoughts flashed inside Roen’s head. He now understood everything he’d seen and learned—the texts, scrolls, folklore, and stories. The conversations he’d had with his men and the elders. He’d been working for months learning everything he could, but somehow the island had kept him from connecting any dots. Like little foking partitions in my head.

  The answers were right in front of him the entire time.

  “We’re all afraid of her. An island.” He laughed. Yet, she had no hands to punch with, no legs to kick with. Her only real means of physical contact was through that water, which they gladly drank every goddamned day—why wouldn’t they? It made them strong and indestructible. It made them fearless. He didn’t need the island for that. Neither did those men.

  Without their willingness to let her in and drink that water, her illusion of control vanished. She could do little more than inflict pain. And death? No. She needed them to do that. Otherwise, she would’ve mowed men down on her own. It was all one big illusion, masterfully woven with fear and manipulation.

  Roen smiled at the bobbing black face snapping her lids open and shut in an awkward birdlike rhythm. “You’re a genius,” he said. “I think you’ve figured out how to save us.”

  She shook her head and growled.

  Oh. He hadn’t figured out how to save the maids, had he? Thankfully, his mind felt like a razor-sharp sword, ready to cut down anything in his way.

  The stories said the women engaged in sex and were bitten. But knowing the island’s adeptness at playing smoke and mirrors, what was missing? He’d bitten Liv, and she had been fine. No, they hadn’t had sex, but was that really the trigger?

  It’s the water. Everything led back to the water, and Liv had drunk some before being bitten. In fact, because o
f her resistance to the water, Holden, their healer, had mentioned in passing how he’d given Liv an entire IV bag full of it before he’d seen an effect on Liv’s dehydration that day she’d first come to El Corazón.

  Was that the key?

  The men’s bites had some sort of, well, for lack of a better word, infectious substance, similar to the folklore related to the effects of a vampire or werewolf bite. Of course, those species weren’t real. But mermen were. And if the women ingested any of the sacred water, it would prevent their venom or whatever they carried from taking hold.

  Now, how it all worked out so that the men’s mates didn’t drink any sacred water during claiming, he didn’t know. There were a million ways the island could rig the “game.” For example, he could easily see the old bitch whispering in the men’s ears to give their particular woman a sip of water, making the night last much longer. Those women went home thoroughly worked over, filled repeatedly with potent sperm, and ended up pregnant. No surprise there.

  Foke. That must be it.

  Roen looked at his companion. Her big bright eyes were glued to his face.

  “Have you ever been given any sacred water?” he asked.

  She held up her sharp claw, trying to form a word. “Swim in sunlight with it.”

  Roen winced. His arms cramped in the cold water. “You mean, the other day when the ship was attacked, some of the maids drank sacred water?”

  The maid nodded. “Caves,” she ground out the word. “Filled with it. We drink.”

  Sonofabitch. The water had disappeared from the pool in the great hall because the island had diverted it into the ocean. The maids, who lived beneath the island, taking shelter in the underwater caves, were flushed with it, which is why they were able to come out into the sunlight and attack the women.

  Had the island done it on purpose, knowing that would be the outcome? Perhaps. Regardless, it stood to reason that the women had been partially “cured.”

  Roen now felt the warmth of full sunlight on the back of his head while his arms made excruciating rotations in the cold, salty water. He looked to his side, and there she was right below the surface, her long, sleek black body floating in the water, her tail undulating like a dolphin’s. The sunlight did not seem to affect her one bit.