by Lani Lenore
The thought of capsizing was their biggest fear, but that was before a high-pitched sound came to their ears over the din of the storm. With soaked tendrils of hair clinging to their faces, they stopped their work and looked toward the sound.
It was a pleasant chorus, begging for their full attention and allowing for nothing else. The song consumed the men wholly, making the storm disappear and all cares vanish. Within, deep lusts began to unravel. Dizzying warmth ensnared them and a careless relaxation took over their bodies. The pirates were helpless to control themselves or even realize the source. Every man on the rocking vessel heard the same perfect melody, stopping their fight against the storm. There was not one among them that understood the terror that they should have felt.
From the ship’s wheel, the helmsman saw the glowing eyes in the distance, but beneath the light of the full moon, he also saw the creatures who had ensnared him. They were perfect things, sitting on the rocks, drenched with the rain. There were dozens of beautiful women in the water, daughters of the sea that had been his first love. They had been birthed for him, solely for his pleasure. Beneath the hips of their lean torsos, their legs were entwined to form a fish’s tail, but having no legs did not mean that there was no access to the warmer places within. Somewhere in his mind, he knew that. Those women sang for him, their song falling away into a chorus of lustful sighs and moans. They yearned for him deeply—only him. He could fulfill them all. Their breasts glistened beautifully as their arms reached out to him. All he had to do was go to them. Without his knowledge, his hands released their solid grip on the helm, allowing the sea to have full control.
The rudder turned abruptly, slamming back as the willful current bade. Every man was thrown across the deck.
3
Nathan had heeded the orders barked at him over the sound of the thunder, but the hard rocking of the ship made moving about nigh impossible on the slick deck. While he worked—wrestling down the square sails and raising trysails in their places—the thought of what he’d been told earlier about the mermaids—or deep sea nymphs—did not cross his mind.
Tonight be a prime night for an appearance. A full moon; a fog, an approaching storm. His mind made no connection with it.
He’d been struggling with a rope when the song had come to his ears, and at the first notes of it, his muddled mind had not allowed him to question what it was. That was when the rudder snapped.
With no resistance from his feet, Nathan slid across the deck and smashed his head into the railing. The blow was hard, disorienting him, and he slumped against the boards, his vision blurring as pain shot to the back of his skull. He was losing consciousness, but the song continued on in his ears as he slipped into the darkness. He did not hear the crunch as the ship rammed into the large rocks or as the hull burst open below him. He did not resist as the vessel began to capsize.
Nathan was thrown overboard and splashed into the cold depths, waves lapping over his head, pulling him down. He lapsed in and out of the blackness, but the thing that would be forever implanted into his mind was the moment he opened his eyes to find water rolling up over his face.
He was floating in the ocean, and the night was filled with screams of pain and terror. Waves crashed into each other, thunder roared, and with unfocused eyes, Nathan saw his shipmates being eaten alive by vicious monsters of the sea.
The skin of the creatures was gray and cracked, their glowing eyes wide with hunger. Their hair was long and brittle black—those of them that had hair on their heads, for some seemed made of armored scale from crown to waist. He could scarcely tell, but he was certain that their lower bodies were the tails of fish. It was then that he realized the water he floated in was stained by a cloud that was thick and red.
The hideous female creatures made sliding motions against their victims amongst the wreckage. Nathan wasn’t sure what he was seeing as his vision faded in and out. Were the creatures raping these men while they bit ragged holes into their flesh? They steal the seed from your loins. The song had been an enticement, and by the time the men were in the water, they were prepped for this death. Nathan wondered about himself, but he felt completely numb below his neck. Was he dying from huge wounds? Was there any part of his body remaining in this dark water? He was too distant to tell.
Nathan was not even aware enough to panic. He was drifting away.
He had not been giving much thought to his life when arms wrapped around him beneath the waves. Unknowingly supported, he watched as one of the fish-creatures ripped out a shipmate’s throat, tearing skin and meat and cartilage, stifling his screams. Then there was a sweet voice in his ear, singing a soft lullaby that had no words. Listening to it, he didn’t care about the raging sea or the horrors in the water. He didn’t mind the swelled knot on his head. He didn’t care if he was bleeding or dying. Languidly, he leaned his head back against a cold, wet shoulder and closed his eyes. He knew no fear.
He understood then. This was freedom—letting everything go, achieving a state without worry or guilt. It may well have been death.
Chapter Two
The Beauty of the Tide
1
The morning sea was smooth and calm with hardly a wrinkle. The treacherous rocks were easy to spot beneath the light of the sun. So was the wreckage. Several eyes surveyed the mess from the deck of a ship—His Majesty’s Loriletta—until there was only one thing to be said about the vessel that had been claimed.
“Just pirates.” This came from the mouth of the crown prince himself.
Thaddeus Archibald Ellister III observed the scene calmly, smoking from a hand-crafted pipe. He was a sensible man at thirty-two, well-educated and liked by the people in the seaside nation of Solaris. Even if he had not been the eldest child of his father, he still would have been the pick of the litter as heir to the throne.
Since he had been a lad, with such freedoms common to a prince, Thaddeus had made it his business to secure the sea that surrounded his father’s kingdom. He wanted to rid the waters of their monsters—a list including villainous pirates as well as creatures of the deep. His biggest concern, however, had always been the flesh-eating deep sea nymphs. Those creatures had been his bane and his burden. Only a select few knew what drove him, but they kept that information to themselves. Several of these men surrounded him now, keeping their eyes open but holding their assessments until he had made his own.
Crown Prince Ellister surveyed the stray, floating chunks of human flesh with a skillful eye.
“It’s not the work of sharks, but that’s what we’ll say,” he informed them in his eloquent voice. He puffed from his pipe, unmoved. “This was certainly the doing of our vicious female friends of the depths.”
Thaddeus had seen enough of this work to know what he was looking at. Most of the bodies were whole, bled dry, with ragged holes ripped in their throats from small mouths with sharp teeth. Gashes from dangerous claws had marred the faces beyond recognition, but those same nails had also dug gouges in the chests, arms, and backs of these dead men. There was a sensuality to the design of these wounds—a need gone too far. It was lust; it was hunger; but it was death.
“At least it was only a pirate ship this time, and not one of our own,” mentioned a middle-aged attendant next to him. This man was one of many, fully interchangeable to Ellister’s thinking. “That’s at least a point on our side.”
The prince was not interested in this. Thaddeus turned away without a word, stepping across the deck in his fine, polished boots which seemed to clomp with authority.
“I want to know why we did not already have this position marked,” he said. “These rocks were perfect for the creatures’ use. They should have already been found and netted.”
Thaddeus did not look at any of them as he spoke. His voice was so calm that it sent chills throughout those around him. The tone was smooth, like the sea, but in an instant, it could rise up and swallow them all. They all groped for an answer, but a short, portly man—Mister Browning—
spoke up first.
“Please understand, Your Highness. The seas are not fully charted. They change with the rise and fall of the tide. It is not negligence. Please believe that we are doing our best for you.”
Bold words, spoken in a timid, reverent manner. Ellister liked that the man felt completely inferior to him. He knew his place, and it was far beneath where the crown prince was. Ellister was so appreciative of this that it put him in a lenient mood. He removed the pipe from his mouth.
“I want this kept quiet,” he said, as if to refresh all their minds, “and see that nets are dropped here so that this mistake does not repeat itself.”
“What of the remaining bodies?”
Ellister looked out over the water once more, noting the shimmering texture of the ocean, but gazing impassively at the pale, lipid blobs that had been left behind after the feeding frenzy.
“They belong to the sea now,” he said. “The remains may be good for bait.”
2
“He’s not your son!”
Nathan shot awake, shaken by the shouted phrase in his mind, even though it was forgotten as soon as the dream had left him. He opened his eyes to the glow of the sun and a mild, burning sensation on his skin. His face, neck, and clothes were covered with gritty white sand, but he was alive.
Alive.
At the sudden memory of the previous night—the gnashing, bloody teeth of the fish creatures, tails lashing in the churning waters—Nathan shot upright, examining himself to be certain that no large chunks of flesh were missing. To his relief, he found himself whole, down to the last whisker on his face. He panted while his heart calmed, and after considering how he’d cheated death, incredulous laughter swelled inside his chest until it burst free.
Nathan closed his eyes, tossed his head back and laughed for the sheer, dumb luck of it all. Twice in one night, he had cheated death. It was too bad for all those others. They’d certainly not made it.
It’s terrible, isn’t it? he thought to himself, wiping tears from his eyes along with bits of sand. Can you even imagine what it must have been like?
He had to recant his statements from the night before, though he had no one to justify himself to. Mermaids—those deep sea nymphs—were real. He had seen them with his own eyes, and he could deny no longer. He shook his head violently to pry the thought loose, making his head ache. There was no sense in ruining the fine feelings of his good fortune, but his laughter had faded. For some reason, he had not been eaten by those creatures. He had survived the storm, and now he was here.
Where?
His brown eyes, beneath a gently reddened brow, looked around. He was on a beach—that was certain—peering toward the sea of white caps that stretched on for miles. To his right, there was only a shoreline with no one in sight. Behind him, there was no settlement; only a cluster of trees. Nathan’s good spirits fell instantly.
“Perfect…” he muttered with a slight shake of his head. No, he’d not drowned. He’d not been eaten by scaly creatures with flesh-ripping teeth. He was alive—alive on a small island he didn’t recognize, miles from the mainland. It was brilliant how God had decided to mock him. Just perfect.
He was about to rise, to stand and yell at the top of his lungs before trying to gather his thoughts on how he would get out of this, but before he’d even shifted his weight, his gaze hung on something lying near him. His brow creased involuntarily as he looked over what he had found, confused and yet amazed.
There on the beach, partially covered by a ripped sail that had drifted ashore, was a woman.
She was naked, her skin lightly tanned by the sun, smooth and young. Long, golden hair was wet from the gently retreating water, spread out around her in all directions. Nathan leaned forward for a closer observation, though hesitant, even if he wasn’t sure why.
Am I dreaming? He was sure that he was awake, but was he seeing something real, or a mirage? Could she be... Is she dead?
The skin of the woman’s back appeared radiant and fine; not the color of death. He could see that she breathed softly, and he found that he was relieved, but what was she doing here? He’d been lucky to live. How was it possible that she was here as well? She had not been on that ship the night before. He certainly would have remembered.
Absently, he touched his head, feeling a hardened mass of blood encrusting his scalp. He’d hit his head on the ship’s railing, and the sight of her did not make things better. His mind was groggy. He wasn’t thinking properly as he looked at her—as slowly and deliberately he closed the space between them, pulling himself past the wreckage until he was beside her.
He hesitated to touch her, for touching her meant that she was real, and if his hand passed through her, it would reveal that he was truly alone here. He was apprehensive, but carefully, he rolled her over.
She was dead weight, but went easily onto her back without stirring. Nathan’s eyes lit fully at the solidity of her form. He was not imagining this. If he’d not been intrigued by her before, he certainly was now, for she was more and more beautiful from every angle that he witnessed.
The ruined sail twisted around her body, hiding her hips and legs that were submerged in the tide. Her body was lean, but with flowing curves like only an artist could depict from his most lustful fantasy. She could not have been older than he was; perhaps much younger. The woman’s lips were full and even, the top just as perfect as the bottom. Her eyes were closed, but the lashes were long and light, weightless like wisps of cloud.
Lost in awe, his fingers brushed the side of her face, and disbelieving laughter passed through his lips at the warmth of her skin. Perhaps God had not mocked him after all. This was a gift; it must have been. An unsettled island, this perfect woman, and nothing but freedom. He was in Eden. Could his fate have been any better? But where had she come from? He should have expected that he would not let this all get past his busy mind. Something was sure to vex him.
“Who are you?” he whispered to her, observing her lovely face.
She did not answer him—of course she did not. But that was alright. She did not need to speak. His hand trailed down her body absently—softly down the slope of her neck, smoothing hair away from one round breast before tracing down the contours of her ribs, her stomach. She was as pleasant to the touch as to the eyes. He could not look away.
Gazing at her, Nathan felt warmth stirring within. He might have sworn that a spell had taken him over, for he found himself unable to control his urge to touch her further, his thoughts running in dizzying circles all around her. Her. He was drawn to her in a way that he couldn’t describe, only knowing he wanted her more than food or even water. If to kiss her mouth would steal away his last breath, then he felt he would die a happy man. She became the center of all things, and he did not know where he was or why he was here, only that he was with her. He’d forgotten…everything. Within that swirl of heat, he almost forgot himself.
His body was tightening, his breaths growing hotter. His lips moved toward hers, desperate to claim them. He did not know her, but that was not a thought that disturbed him. The lost pirate kissed the mysterious woman, tasting salt and swallowing sand, but the softness there was well worth it. His tongue slid into her easily and filled his body with insatiable desire.
She awoke in his kiss. Slender fingers touched his jaw lightly, tracing the curve and then slid down his neck. She accepted him without question, returning his lust. Despite all uncertainty, he felt relaxed and blissful. His hand wandered beneath the sail, sliding down her body—until his fingers met with something that snapped his mind back into place.
The texture had changed from smooth skin to something slick and rough, like fish scales. For a moment, he could not grasp it, only knowing that this was very different from anything he had expected to feel beneath there.
What in hell…?
Another flash of the night before swept by him, and he understood then. He had been tricked! This was no woman at all, but a deep sea nymph that had ensna
red him with an illusion of beauty. She had only appealed to his senses in order to get him so close, but truly, this one that had her arms about his neck was a monster. In another short moment, she would surely rip the lips from his face.
Oh God…
Somehow, his mind managed to catch and his body reacted along with it, throwing himself away from her. He reached for the knife that he kept in his boot, relieved to find that it was still there. By the time she had leaned up to look at him questioningly, he was crouched with the knife, defending against anything she might do.
The woman looked at him doubtfully, as if pained by his rejection. Her eyes were like gems, the very same color as the blue-green sea. They glittered in the sunlight, but it did not suit him to look at those eyes—or any other part of her, yet he dared not look away. Nathan squinted, trying to see her for what she really was. Always, he was left staring at a gorgeous woman with a fish tail and not a hideous monster like he had seen before. Even so, he vowed to not be taken by her wicked spell.
His feet flat in the wet sand, he settled to focus on her chin. There was no harm there. Her spell would not ensnare him if he focused there; that was what he decided.
He recalled something then—of floating in the water, seeing the others being eaten. Just at the brink of drowning, he’d been lifted and pulled backward, someone singing a sweet melody into his ear which put him to sleep. It must have been her. This creature.
“You saved me,” he realized aloud, having no idea if she could understand him and not caring much, “but you didn’t rescue me, did you? You delivered me here in one piece. Were you so greedy that you couldn’t share with the others? Or were you just saving me for later?”
Nathan tried to be harsh, refusing to be tricked by her again. The young woman only stared at him in confusion. Her expression was so fearful—so attractive, even though he did not look directly at it. He felt his resolve with the knife wavering. Was it some power she had over him, or was it his own mind and conscience loosening him? Nathan had no clue. It would have been nice to believe that she had saved his life out of the goodness of her heart, but from what he had seen, the tales he’d been told so recently were true. Mermaids were soulless monsters, wicked in all ways.
