by Devyn Quinn
Mason had a thought or two about that fact. “In my opinion the government should have kept the sisters confined and controlled instead of releasing them back into society. Yes, I am aware they are basically peaceful and have lived their entire lives in Port Rock. They are even productive citizens, who hold jobs and pay taxes. But that doesn’t change my mind about the species. To the core of their DNA, they are still part of an alien life-form that has proven to be particularly deadly. At this point, I consider all mermaids to be suspects.”
Webber’s expression betrayed a hint of annoyance. “Your concerns are noted, Captain—and overruled. These orders have come down from the top, and that’s the way it’s going to be.” His brown eyes narrowed. “If you have a problem with that, you will be reassigned—immediately.”
The idea tempted him, but Mason quickly pushed it out of his mind. Being cherry-picked for the command of the covert USET team was more than an honor. If he brought the operation in as a success, the rating of rear admiral, lower half, bestowed by Naval Special Operations, would surely be his next step up the ladder. Intending to go all the way up the chain of command, he had his eye on the chair Webber presently occupied. In his mind it was time for the old-guard politicians to hand over the power to the young pups who actually had experience with the jobs they oversaw.
Alas, those dreams of future glories would have to wait. He needed to focus on the present, and on the unusual circumstances he’d been thrust into.
Mason offered a sharp nod. “I have no problem, sir.”
“Off the record, I’m half inclined to agree with you,” Webber grumbled beneath his breath. “But whatever prejudices you’ve got against the Mer, keep them to yourself. We’ve got a job to do, and we’re going to do it right.”
Mason squared his shoulders. After twelve years in the service, he was an expert at performing above and beyond expectations. He might not agree with his superiors, but he’d carry out his duty to the bitter end. Even if it means going down with the ship, he reminded himself.
He acknowledged his superior’s admonishment with a nod. “Absolutely, sir.”
Webber picked through some plain manila folders. “Of the three Mer sisters, we believe this one,” he said, passing the selected folder across his desk, “Addison, is the best choice.”
Mason took the file, which contained all the pertinent information the government had on Addison Lonike. Although he’d already studied up on the sisters after joining USET, it probably wouldn’t hurt to refresh his memory.
Webber still hadn’t convinced him that asking one of the girls to join the team was the correct way to go. Sleeper agents were known to be benign for decades before being activated by those they served. The Lonike sisters’ integration into the human world could have been something the Mer planned a long time before their sudden emergence back into the mainstream. Hundreds, perhaps thousands, of their kind could already be spread throughout the world, just waiting for the call to arms.
He had no doubt that his superiors had considered all the options as well. Still, they’d chosen to proceed.
“She’s a good candidate for this mission,” Webber filled in. “She is the youngest, approximately twenty-six years of age.”
Mason thumbed through her profile. “This is pretty basic,” he commented. “On paper nothing looks out of the ordinary.”
Webber shuffled through his own massive pile of notes on the Mer sisters. “On the surface they seem as normal as any human.” He began reeling off the stats. “Her father, David Lonike, was human. Half Scots-Irish, half Native American from the Abenaki tribe. He had a small fishing business—one he inherited from his father. His wife, Jolesa, was full-fledged Mer.”
Mason inwardly blanched. The idea of a mermaid tail and human legs didn’t mesh in his mind. How did they manage that, anyway? He didn’t dare contemplate the answer. “It says here that Mer offspring are always female.”
Tilting his head, Webber peered over the black rims of his glasses and scanned a few more pages. His folders were considerably thicker than the one Mason held, and he’d obviously gone through the intelligence forward and backward, then forward again. Considering the delicacy of the situation, his couldn’t have been an easy decision to make. He had superiors to answer to, as well. “It seems to be a genetic quirk with their species, a way of ensuring the Mer DNA doesn’t die off and become extinct,” he noted. “From what we can glean, this particular bloodline has been in Port Rock for centuries.”
More than a little uneasy, Mason closed his own folder. He didn’t like the way Addison Lonike’s flashing green eyes seemed to home right in on him through her photo. Nor did he like the fact that interspecies breeding didn’t exactly sit well with him. “It’s amazing they’ve managed to hide in plain sight for so long,” he commented as a way to remain neutral on the matter.
“The Lonike sisters have done their best to be cooperative,” Webber said, making sure every word was precise and clear. “And without their assistance, we wouldn’t have any idea what we’re up against. But for all we do know, there are still too many gaps to fill in. That’s why I want a Mer on our team. ASAP. We haven’t got the time to guess what’s waiting for us out there in the Mediterranean.”
Mason handed Addison’s folder back. He had to admit the more he learned about mermaids, the less he liked them. “When do I leave?”
Webber’s expression turned grave. “Immediately. A seaman is waiting outside my office to take you to the airfield. I expect you to be back in Washington within twenty-four hours. With Miss Lonike in tow.” He dug through his pile of paperwork and extracted a second folder. “Here are the details of the position we’re prepared to offer her as MTA.”
Mason’s brows rose. That was one he hadn’t heard before. “MTA?”
“Mer Tactical Adviser,” Webbed filled in. “It’s noncommissioned, and she won’t have any rating in the team, but she will be compensated. As an EMT and experienced search and rescue diver, she’d be a good fit even if she weren’t a mermaid.”
Without betraying his unease for a second time in front of his superior, Mason pushed to his feet and tucked the folder under his arm. “Understood, sir.” Drawing in a deep breath, he snapped out a neat salute.
Adam Webber halfheartedly returned the gesture. “You are dismissed, Captain.”
Mason nodded once before turning toward the door. There was nothing more for him to say. It wouldn’t have done any good anyway. The decision was made. He had his orders. His opinion had no place beyond this point.
Personal prejudices aside, Mason felt confident he could handle the assignment. If he did his job right, everything would be fine.
Chapter 2
Queen Magaera was restless.
Although she had achieved her desired goal of securing the scepter that would allow her to raise Ishaldi from the seafloor and into the human world, she wasn’t happy.
Jake Massey glanced toward the agitated monarch. Draped in silk so fine it might have been spun from cobwebs, she presently wandered the halls of her temple, a wraith who could find no succor in her recent success.
Cloaked in mists that shrouded it from the eyes of the curious world, the island paradise she’d worked so hard to restore in Earth’s waters had also become her prison. The kingdom she’d single-handedly resurrected from the depths of the sea was an empty one, devoid of subjects. Most of them were still trapped in a hidden realm within the ocean, where they’d been ever since the Lonike sisters’ grandmother, who had once been Queen Nyala of the Mer, sealed the sea-gate to prevent her kind from overtaking humanity. This world was accessible only via a sea-gate, a sort of wormhole that could be accessed only if one had the correct key. That key had once been a diamond choker and crystal orb, both of which had been destroyed when Tessa opened the sea-gate for the first time. Now that the pieces were destroyed, Tessa had somehow reset the sea-gate to recognize only her psychic imprint. If she went through first, others could follow. If not, the sea-gate re
jected those attempting to breach it, spitting back bones. Magaera and eight of her soldiers had managed to follow Tessa as she escaped the realm, but the rest of the Mer were left behind. Magaera could not open the sea-gate to return home and retrieve her people—not without Tessa Lonike.
Though Jake struggled to keep his brow smooth and untroubled, his thoughts were racing a mile a minute. He knew that to assume control of the sea-gate, Magaera would have to fool it into thinking she was Tessa. Normally, such an energy output was unique to each individual, as personal as a fingerprint. However, all Mer carried a psi-kinetic gene that allowed them to communicate on a cerebral level. Normally this gift was used when submerged. But it could also be manipulated for more nefarious purposes.
Although the practice was forbidden, a Mer could make the electrical forces of her brain resonate on the same wavelength as another’s, thus mimicking the exact frequency until the two were impossible to tell apart.
Jake inwardly frowned. Magaera needs Tessa’s soul-stone, he thought. Without it, she has no way to bring her people through the sea-gate.
And a queen needed her subjects—to worship her and for her to command. A queen without subjects was like the Sahara in high summer—empty, arid, and dry.
He frowned. Paradise without peons is boring. Twiddling his thumbs on an island was not what he signed on for when he’d agreed to become Queen Magaera’s guide in the human world. As the archaeologist who’d returned the long-lost mermaids to the earth’s surface, he’d imagined not only reclaiming his standing in the archaeological world, but also receiving an ambassadorship. He’d be an important man—feted; toasted for his brilliance; significant.
As things presently stood, he was a gigolo; the reluctant lover of a seven-hundred-year-old cranky Mer queen with four—count them, four—Mer subjects to serve her every whim and command.
Although the island provided for every physical need a mermaid might have, its options were limited when it came to conjuring up some entertainment and eats for a human being. How he longed for a wide-screen television with satellite, and a computer with Internet access. A decent bottle of whiskey and a steak would be welcome, too. In his mind, an ambassador such as he deserved much better lodgings and luxuries. He’d cut off a limb to be aboard a yacht; sitting on deck and sipping a margarita while watching the sun slip in a leisurely fashion behind the faraway horizon.
Since that wasn’t possible right now, he had to think of something else.
I need some action.
It was time to put his foot on Magaera’s ass and give the bitch a push in the right direction.
Sauntering over to the object of his ambition, he came to a stop a few feet behind her. Lately, the most casual of conversations was guaranteed to send her into a rage. “You have something on your mind?”
Magaera did not glance his way, nor did she cease her pacing. “These days of leisure have begun to grate upon my very nerves.” Her hands suddenly balled into angry fists. “The whole world is out there, and I cannot yet touch it.”
“We agreed it was best to let the humans think we are in retreat,” he reminded her. “By acting too quickly last time, too many mistakes were made. Good soldiers were lost and our number was effectively halved.”
Magaera froze, regarding him through an icy blue gaze. “Which I did upon your advice,” she shot through clenched teeth.
Jake hurried to explain his grievous tactical error. “There was no way they should have been able to beat your soldiers. How they managed it, I don’t know.”
The queen turned her head, gazing through the murky fog enveloping the edges of their island fortress. Through the last few days she was moody and volatile, driven by the twisted thoughts writhing in her mind. The revenge she was planning against the human race would probably make men shudder. “Humans today are not as weak as they once were. They have command of these waters now, and technology we do not yet understand. They watch us now, curious as to our next move.”
Jake tracked her gaze, though it did little good. To his eyes the glittering mist surrounding the island was impenetrable. “The Mer, too, are an enigma they don’t yet understand,” he reminded her.
For several weeks, several navy ships had patrolled the perimeter of the island, sending out reconnaissance teams in order to investigate the anomaly that had suddenly appeared in Mediterranean waters. There was no doubt in his mind that the United States government now knew about the Mer. The feds had taken Tessa Lonike and her family into protective custody after Queen Magaera’s ham-fisted attempt to take her hostage. Of the four soldiers she’d sent to reclaim Tessa, none had returned. They, too, had been taken into custody.
He imagined the feds were trying to digest the existence of the Mer and to decide what to do now that they had come out of the water.
At this point, Jake knew the island was being watched, and closely. The US Navy had even sent in an exploratory ship, and divers had attempted to enter the waters around the island. They hadn’t gotten very far. Magaera’s remaining four soldiers made sure the waters around the island were well patrolled. It also helped that the electromagnetic field generated by the wormhole beneath the water kept their ships at a respectable distance. Anything electronic went haywire. He’d gotten an inkling into the energies emanating from the sea-gate when his BlackBerry blew up. It was fried—toast.
Their stamina, however, was beginning to wear thin. Five weeks had passed since their queen had reclaimed Atargatis’s scepter, the very thing that had allowed her to raise Ishaldi from its watery grave. It was time to decide on their next move.
Jake cleared his throat. “It’s only a matter of time before the navy figures out a way to penetrate the island’s perimeter.”
His observation seemed to amuse her. “You think I do not know that?” she snapped through a scowl. “It is true we are well shielded. But it is not enough. I must have my missing piece.”
Jake felt the fine hairs on the back of his neck prickle. “It always comes back to her,” he murmured.
Tessa…
Thinking about her caused his heart to skip a beat and his chest to tighten. He briefly closed his eyes, allowing cloying memories to seep back into his mind. If there was anything on his conscience that bothered him, Tessa was it. She was the best thing that had ever happened to him. Letting her go was the biggest mistake he’d ever made.
At one time they’d been lovers, and she’d trusted him enough to invite him into her secret world. It was an honor and a privilege, and there really was a time he thought they’d be together forever. There was only one problem, and it wasn’t that Tessa was a mermaid.
He was totally screwed up inside.
Deep down, he harbored a mistrust of the female sex. Women were unstable, emotional, even hysterical. And with such a notion embedded in his psyche, there was no way any relationship he entered into could ever succeed.
Jake had always longed for a mother who’d rescue him from his own bat-shit crazy father. His mother hadn’t done jack, though. Three years after giving birth to her son, Beth Massey had taken the proverbial walk for cigarettes and never come home.
Left on his own with a young son to raise, Jake’s dad had drifted from woman to woman. Some he married; others he merely took up with to have a convenient babysitter. Most of the females he picked up were trash—loose women who weren’t interested in another woman’s child. When he wasn’t getting the better side of a leather belt from one of his many stepmothers, Jake was completely ignored, thrust aside whenever his dad had the misfortune to knock up another broad. He had so many half bothers and half sisters that he couldn’t even keep count.
A swirl of nausea caused his stomach to tighten. Watching his father cycle through wives the way an elephant devoured peanuts, he’d never learned what a true relationship looked like. In his mind, women were disposable. He had no respect for their sex whatsoever.
And then one woman had stopped him dead in his tracks.
When he’d met Tessa, he
’d actually believed he’d have a real honest-to-God chance of making a relationship work. Tessa wasn’t human; she was Mer. And, in the beginning, everything seemed perfect.
But then he discovered a female was a female, no matter her species. Once a woman got those nesting instincts, everything changed. The strings tightened. Once they cut into the skin, they began to strangle. Instead of remaining his magical and ageless princess of the sea, Tessa wanted to get married—and make some spawn.
Jake supposed his resistance to the idea of children was the catalyst that caused Tessa to question her choice of a husband. Once a Mer took her breema, her breed-mate, it was for life. When she’d suggested they postpone their forthcoming nuptials, he’d persuaded her to go through with their plans.
His pulse rate bumped up a notch. Myriad emotions caused his chest to tighten in a most uncharacteristic way. Instead of honoring his commitment to Tessa, he’d walked out on her the night before the wedding. And despite what people might presently think of him, he regretted the decision to this day. He’d even tried to make it up to Tessa by locating the ruins of Ishaldi, perhaps giving her and her sisters proof of their place in the human world.
The idea backfired—terribly. Once they learned that he intended to bring his search for the Mer into the academic realm of archaeology, Tessa and her sisters had accused him of taking advantage, and of seeking to exploit them and their kind.
I wasn’t always a backstabbing fuckup, he thought. Even though he hadn’t intended to, he’d somehow become a carbon copy of the father he’d never respected—insensitive, reckless, heartless.
But it was too late for regret now. He’d made his choices—and his enemies—and all he could do now was follow the path to its end. After breaking up with Tessa, he’d prided himself on being cold, emotionless, and detached. Archaeology became his god, filling the void he’d let himself be sucked into. It also kept him from having to think about the pieces missing in his life, those tiny details that gave a man a sense of purpose and fulfillment.
