Poison and Potions: a Limited Edition Paranormal Romance and Urban Fantasy Collection

by Erin Hayes

  “Yep,” he said, nodding towards the dolphin. “That’s his name. It fits him, doesn’t it? He’s the newest addition to the aquarium.”

  “He sounds so sad,” I said, more to myself than the aquarist.

  The aquarist flashed me a smile. “Don’t worry your pretty little head.”

  I knew he didn’t mean anything by it, but that comment with his accent rubbed me the wrong way.

  Not noticing my anger, the aquarist continued. “He’ll be fine. He just needs to get used to being here, and we’ll get him acquainted with the other dolphins after his quarantine in the isolation pool.”

  “How long will that take?”

  The aquarist shrugged. “A week or so, until we know that he doesn’t have any diseases that can be passed onto the others in the group.”

  I looked back at Kai and frowned. Even though I’d only been at Neptune’s World for a couple of months, I knew from talking with the aquarists at that park that dolphins were highly social creatures and that isolation was really hard on them. While quarantine was a must for new animals, surely they acted a bit more lively than this one.

  “Where did he come from?” I asked.

  “Not too far from here, actually,” the aquarist said. “He was caught in a fishing net and separated from his pod. The little guy is lucky to be alive. Mr. Stevens wants him to start training for shows within the next few weeks.”

  I’ve met Mr. Stevens twice before. As the president of the Houston Aquarium, he was Neptune’s counterpart, though it sure didn’t seem that way. I could tell from the way the two men interacted that they weren’t on good terms with each other. Based on those two meetings with him, I didn’t like Mr. Stevens because he treated everything like a business venture. He wasn’t in this because he loved animals; he wanted to make money off them.

  My heart broke for the poor dolphin. I wanted to reach out and touch him, to tell him that he was going to be with new friends soon.

  “Hey, buddy,” I whispered. “It’s going to be okay.”

  “I miss my mama... I miss my friends...”

  I froze at the words. They were in a childlike voice I didn’t recognize. In fact, they hadn’t even been audible. I had heard them inside my head. The aquarist was still flitting about the edge of the pool, acting like he hadn’t heard anything.

  “Did you hear that?”

  He blinked up at me. “Hear what?”

  I hesitated. It was so weird, like a young boy was speaking to me right in my ear.

  “...Mama...Daddy...”

  A surging sense of heartbreak imploded my chest, making my ribs feel like they’d crack under the force. The air was sucked out of my lungs, and for a few terrible moments, I couldn’t breathe, and an overwhelming sense of desolation overtook me. Tears pricked the corners of my eyes.

  These aren’t my own emotions.

  As suddenly as it happened, it was gone. Bewildered, I looked down at the dolphin. Kai was watching me with one eye, keen intelligence bearing down on me in that gaze.

  Did that dolphin just speak?

  He moved slightly, and when my gaze followed him, he stopped.

  “Can you hear me?”

  As crazy as it was, I opened my mouth to answer, then I heard my name from across the landing, and I completely forgot what I was going to say.

  “Tara!” Christine yelled. “Are you coming or what?”

  Torn, I made my decision and called out, “I’m coming!”

  I gave the dolphin one last mystified glance before turning away.

  I’m going crazy.

  I sucked in a deep breath, glad my chest seemed to be in working order again. I shook off the last remnants of that dreadful feeling and jogged over to the other pool, feeling mostly normal by the time I arrived.

  The other mermaids were already in the water and checking their breathing hoses before going on stage. Our breathing hoses were nothing special. They were long tubes that we carried with us that allowed us to stay underwater for the entire performance. The tubes fed us air from tanks on the side of the pool, and a trigger at the end released air when we needed a breath. It took a bit of getting used to, but after two months of using one with my performances, it came natural to me.

  “I’m here,” I announced, slowing my jog as I got close to the edge of the tank.

  I gave myself a shake, wanting to immerse myself in the world of mermaiding and brush off the crazy thought that the baby dolphin had talked to me.

  Luckily, I can get into my tail pretty quickly. I grabbed it from where I’d left it by the side of the pool and pencil-dove into the water. I pulled it on, glad that I hadn’t gone a size down when I ordered it, otherwise this would have been really hard. Alaina was already having trouble fitting into her tail with the little that her pregnant belly showed.

  “Where were you?” Christine asked me. She was treading water, testing her air hose. It made hissing noises as she squeezed the trigger to see if air was flowing normally.

  “I wanted to see the new dolphin.”

  I held onto the wall, tugging up the last bits of the tail with my free hand. Inside, my legs were strapped tightly together to create the body while a large flipper at the end camouflaged my feet. I loved this tail. With its silicon green iridescent scales and dorsal fin, it made me feel like a real mermaid.

  “Here you are.”

  I looked up to see Neptune handing me my air hose. His expression was distracted and grim, not the usual look that he had before any of our shows. When he stood up, he cast his eyes over to the quarantine pool, his frown deepening further.

  Yeah, I feel that way too. I felt awful for the little guy, and with the strange voice in my head, I couldn’t quite get all my thoughts together.

  I forced them from my mind. I’d have to think about it later and see if I could help Kai. For now, the show must go on.

  I sucked in some air from my hose, testing it as the sweet oxygen filled my mouth and lungs.

  “Okay, I’m ready.”

  Christine nodded and signaled to a volunteer, who relayed that information. The audio system on the other side of the arena wall boomed as the announcer went through introductions about the wondrous mermaids of Neptune’s World.

  My heart pounded in time with the music.

  When our cue sounded, Christine was the first to move, dragging her air hose with her.

  As I submerged my head, ready to swim for the staging area, I heard one last mournful cry.

  Focus, Tara, I reminded myself.

  I dolphin-kicked my way underneath the curtain to the performance-side of the pool, where spotlights blinded me and the cheer of the crowd deafened me. I took my spot on the front glass to the right of Christine. I surfaced and graciously waved to the crowd.

  “Here are your Neptune’s World mermaids!” the announcer roared.

  Caribbean-style music echoed throughout the arena, and after a four-count rest, I dove underwater and began my performance. They blasted the music underwater, too, so we could clearly hear our cues.

  When I was five, my mother had enrolled me in ballet class right after my dad died to take my mind off his death. At the time, I didn’t know how much it would help in my professional mermaid career; I just really liked the tutus. While my mermaid performance was underwater, a lot of the principles were the same; it was an underwater dance. Instead of pointe shoes and leotards, I had my mermaid tail, the water, and my breathing hose.

  Because the viewing glass was relatively shallow, our performance was a lot less complex than they usually were. At Neptune’s World, we’d twist and turn and do underwater somersaults, although here, we were highly limited. We were basically doing an elaborate port de bras, or arm movements, smiling and waving graciously at the audience.

  I tried to avoid using the breathing hose much at all. When I had started, Neptune made me promise to breathe as much as I needed to. Apparently, one mermaid tried going as long as possible and ended up nearly drowning. As a result, he’d bee
n paranoid ever since. Christine and the others used their breathing hoses almost as much as we do when we breathe outside the water. Yet I clung onto this notion that using it less made me more like a real mermaid. I held my breath and used it only when necessary.

  We mermaids worked well as a unit. We kept an eye on each other, both for keeping ourselves synchronized and to be there in case one of us got into trouble, keeping us in tune with one another. We all enjoyed our jobs. Here in the water, we were right at home, living out our dreams.

  Some girls wanted to be mermaids. We were mermaids, and that made all the difference. I couldn’t believe that I was here. Regardless of what happened in the future, I’d always remember this as the happiest time in my life.

  The music swelled for the climax all too soon, meaning that we were coming to the end of our routine and our performance for the crowd. Underwater, Christine signaled for us to head towards the front glass to wave our goodbyes.

  I swam up, breaking through the water. I grabbed onto the edge and hauled myself up as far as my arms would take me. I grinned and waved.

  The crowd erupted into cheers and applause.

  My wave became less enthusiastic when I locked eyes with Neptune on the sidelines. He always made sure to catch our performances for extra support. Usually, he was the one who started the applause, though not this time. He still had that grim expression on his face. He blinked and shifted his gaze somewhere behind me, and I knew that he was thinking about the poor dolphin calf.

  My heart sank, taking the jubilation out of a good performance. My arm fell slowly back to my side, and as the mermaids turned to leave, I couldn’t help but wonder if there was something I could do to help little guy.

  I’ve never felt so helpless before. Mermaid or not.

  “Good job today, mermaids!”

  Oh no. I recognized that voice, and after today’s events, he was the last person I wanted to see, especially in the women’s changing room.

  Mr. Stevens stood in the doorway, wearing a pristine white button-up shirt and tie. An absolutely ridiculous outfit for the backstage area of the aquarium. Then again, he was the type who always wanted to make the best impressions.

  While Neptune was laid-back and easygoing despite his rough exterior, Mr. Stevens was calculated in his manner to come across as a successful executive. He appeared to be in his mid-forties, with salt-and-pepper hair.

  The praise would have been more meaningful coming from anyone else.

  I looked up, meeting Christine’s eyes in the mirror. She gave me an encouraging grin, which meant that I must have looked as forlorn as I felt. She was wearing a loose-fitting sweater, her blonde hair messily blow-dried after her shower and her makeup a lot less dramatic than it had been for the performance. We all used heavy-duty waterproof makeup for our performances, so seeing us without those masks on made us look like entirely different people.

  To my utter relief, she took care of the president for us. I could see Alaina and Jordyn sighing with relief as well.

  “Thanks, Mr. Stevens, you too.” Christine got up from her seat and headed to the door. She left the room, leaving us to ourselves.

  “Ugh, I hate that guy,” Alaina muttered.

  Jordyn smirked. “My sentiments exactly.”

  I was glad that I wasn’t the only one who felt that way. As I pulled a sweater on over my tank top and pulled up my jeans, Christine came back into the room.

  “Well,” she said with an exuberant smile. “Glad to know that we’re appreciated here.”

  “He gives me the creeps,” Jordyn said with a shudder.

  Christine chuckled. “He’s not that bad.” She swung her car keys around her finger. “He’s treating us to dinner.”

  “With him?” Jordyn interjected, her distaste apparent on her face.

  “No,” Christine said, her smile broadening, “only us mermaids.” We never referred to ourselves as “girls” like most people would. We were always “mermaids” to each other, and I thought that was why I fit in better with them than any other group I’d encountered in my life.

  That elicited grins from both Jordyn and Alaina. I still felt a bit out of it, and Christine picked that up. She sat in the chair next to me.

  “Are you okay?” she asked. “You seem down.” She placed a hand on top of mine on the chair’s armrest. “You did fine with your meet and greet today. And your performance was fantastic. The crowd loved you.”

  I fought the urge to clench my fists in my lap. Yes, it was a good day in those respects, but my thoughts kept drifting back to the baby dolphin in the tank and the child’s voice that I had heard.

  Did I really hear it? It sounded so mournful, like there would never be any hope again. Whoever said it sounded far too young to feel that way. And if it was the dolphin, then I was either losing it or something was terribly wrong. I didn’t know which was worse.

  “Yeah, I’m fine,” I lied. “Just tired. Traveling’s getting to me.”

  “I know what will cheer you right uuuup,” she said, drawing out “up” to make it sound like a song. “Dinner, you, me, Jordyn, Alaina?”

  A few hours ago, I would have jumped at the chance to connect with them. Now, something was holding me back. I needed time to myself.

  “I don’t think I’m up for it tonight,” I said. I offered her a half-smile so she wouldn’t get all motherly on me. “I’m really tired. I’ll meet you guys back at the hotel later.”

  Christine immediately frowned and twirled the rental car keys, trying to tantalize me with the thought of a fun dinner. My heart wasn’t into it.

  “You’re not coming, Tara?” Jordyn asked, alarmed.

  “I’m exhausted.”

  “C’mon, Tara,” Christine pushed. When I didn’t acquiesce, she sighed. “All right, I understand. Are you going to be fine by yourself, hun?”

  I chuckled dryly, putting on false airs. “Of course.”

  She quirked an eyebrow. “All right. Well, we shouldn’t be any later than ten o’clock. Don’t wait up for us.”

  Right now, it was seven o’clock. I had three hours to get my head screwed on straight.

  “I won’t. Have fun, mermaids.”

  The other mermaids waved, giving me hugs. We really were like one big happy family. I was going to be sad whenever I did decide to go back to college and get that “sensible job” that my mother always wanted for me.

  Dad would have approved of me being a professional mermaid. I missed him so much; my family was never the same after he died.

  Family...

  My thoughts once again drifted back to Kai and his piteous cries. I knew what I had to do to get him out of my head. I had to see him again, if only to see if I could comfort him one last time before I went to bed. I wasn’t sure if seeing a dolphin was against the rules or not, yet I could always feign ignorance if I got caught. After all, I was already behind the scenes in the dressing room. It wasn’t like I was going to be sneaking around in places I hadn’t been before.

  Mind made up, I got up from my chair, checked to make sure that my mermaid tail was safely zipped up in its garment bag, and rushed out the door. To my delight, no one was there to stop me.

  I snuck backstage, trying to act like I knew what I was doing to not raise suspicions, and was grateful that most of the staff and volunteers had left shortly after the aquarium closed.

  Happy dolphin clicks greeted me as I neared the pools, and I hoped that one of them was from Kai. However, when I looked across at the quarantine pool, I knew that he hadn’t joined in with his fellow dolphins.

  “Hey, guys,” I said to the dolphins. One inspected me with a side eye and then crested and submerged again. They were swimming in circles as if they were trying to figure out who I was and what I was doing there. “I’m just here to check in on Kai. See how he’s doing.”

  One stuck its head out of the water and squeaked at me. I almost could have sworn it was trying to say, “Help him out.” I was transfixed by it, unsure of what to
say.

  Another piteous cry from the quarantine pool drew my attention back to Kai. I stepped by the pool, seeing the little dolphin floating on his side, towards the top of the water. Like earlier, he wasn’t moving much, only doing the bare minimum to keep himself towards the top of the pool.

  The wave of dark, depressed emotions hit me like a brick wall again. Even though I was more prepared for it this time, it still nearly bowled me over.

  “It was you,” I managed. “I heard you before. Felt your sadness before.”

  There was no response, and the deep emotions flowed away like water.

  Curious clicks from the other dolphins followed me as I circumnavigated the pool, trying to get the best angle on Kai. He didn’t even look up at me, as if he was ashamed.

  “It’s going to be okay, Kai,” I told him. “Tell me what I can do to help.”

  I was at the far edge of his pool now, where I was the most exposed to the elements. The evening wind had picked up, and I shivered, looking out over the Atlantic Ocean. The pool had a platform that jutted out about eight yards from the water with a waist-high fence, probably to discourage the dolphins from attempting to jump the distance. From this vantage point, about twenty feet up from the rocky shore, I felt as if I could see everything. The winter moon hung lazily over the horizon, reflected like a mirror on the ocean’s surface.

  It was beautiful, and at that moment, I thought how horrible it was for the dolphins to be so close to the freedom and the beauty of the ocean while being held captive. Neptune’s World was a rehabilitation center for injured animals, and once those animals were healthy, they were returned to the ocean unless they could no longer fend for themselves. At the Houston Aquarium, I could tell that these were healthy, strong dolphins, having no other reason to be here than the fact the aquarium needed dolphins. These dolphins weren’t going to be released back into the wild. They were caged.

  “Help me. Help me, please. I miss Mama.”

  I remembered how I felt after my dad died and my mother emotionally distanced herself from me, afraid of getting hurt again. I was so young. I would lie in bed crying, wanting someone to comfort me, to hold me and tell me that they loved me, something that never came from my mother.