Catch of a Lifetime

by Judi Fennell

  The look in her eyes said she was thinking the same thing—and couldn't wait to get back to practicing any more than he could.

  He stepped out onto the patio to check the angle of the sun. A few more hours until his in-laws took Michael for a "cool"—no, make that "awesome"—un derwater vacation, while he and Angel began a week's worth of uninterrupted, deserted island honeymoon. Sounded like heaven to him, though Zeus had assured him after the ceremony that the deserted island was nothing like Olympus.

  Logan didn't care. Anywhere Angel was, was heaven for him.

  "Oh, look! A rainbow!"

  Michael darted out of the cabana, a finger pointing toward the beach.

  Just offshore, a full rainbow arced across the ocean.

  "Rainbow said I can remember her every time I see one, and she's right!" The little boy took off down the beach, kicking up sand behind him.

  "Hi, Rainbow!" he called, running toward the water until Angel's sister rode a wave onto the beach, grabbed Michael around the waist, and sent him back to his father.

  Not that Logan was worried about sharks anymore. Zeus had promised him there'd be no more of that in Michael's life, and Logan didn't want to ever drag Michael away from a rainbow. Not now, knowing what one represented. Christine's name choice was easy to understand.

  "A cowrie for your thoughts." His wife—his wife— snuggled up under his arm in the beautiful peasant blouse and shirt Nadia had sent with Michael as a wed ding gift. Someday he'd have to talk to his mother about her psychic abilities.

  And find out how much she knew about Mers.

  He kissed the top of Angel's head and nodded at the ocean. "Rainbow."

  "Hey, Angel! Didya see it?" Michael bounced back onto the porch.

  "I did, Michael. Isn't it beautiful?" She tilted her head back to look up at Logan, that gorgeous blonde hair flowing over his arm, her teal blue shirt the perfect foil for her hair and eyes. "Did you know that, in Mer mythology, a rainbow is said to represent the unity of heaven and earth? Over the ocean, it represents the unity of all three."

  Logan reached out for Michael and drew him into a hug with Angel.

  His wife and his son. Unity of all three.

  A family.

  As normal as any under the sun.

  Or under the sea.

  He could live with that.

  ~Fin~

  Author's Note

  Research is one of the best parts about writing, and I find myself getting lost in it on occasion, which opens up whole new worlds and possibilities—a gift for any writer. What I also like about research is that sometimes I need something to be a certain way for the story and voilà! I find the history, facts, or location I need. Some times, though, I have to tweak it, so enjoy the factoids but know that some might be tweaked to fit the story. I added the "over the ocean" part to the Greek mythol ogy about rainbows, and I also played around with the Miami Dolphins' preseason game schedule.

  I apologize to the players for having them suit up a few weeks early in the Florida heat so Logan could turn down the fifty-yard line seats, but I needed to make the story timeline work.

  Enjoy the few extra weeks of practice, guys.

  Acknowledgments

  My editor, Deb Werksman. It is a true pleasure to work with you, and you make it all so much better.

  My agent, Jennifer Schober, for the pep talks, enthu siasm, and sage advice.

  Sue Grimshaw. Again. Because. 

  Sia McKye, for the marketing/blog wonderfulness.

  Hawk, for all the enthusiasm and help in spreading the word.

  Carla, for the promotion, you sneaky thing!

  Sharyn (and Vince, too), for all your Florida and bird information, as well as the perfect pre-RT stay at "VFRW South"!

  Ann "Twinkles" LaBar Russek, for all things poetic.

  Dana Marton, for the Hungarian help.

  Tracy Garrett, for The Princess Bride reference at PASIC.

  Jamie Chapman, for naming A.C.'s girlfriend. I can't believe I couldn't come up with that one on my own, and thank you for doing so! Utterly perfect!

  Tailgate Russ and his Tailgate Nation, for all the votes. Every time.

  Bob Hitchner at All Seasons Marina in Marmora, New Jersey, for painstakingly crawling over every boat in inventory with me to see where a mermaid could possibly hide. And not cracking a joke when telling people what we were doing (though we did get some funny looks).

  The usual list of suspects: The Writing Wombats; all the supporters on Gather; my fellow VFRWers and AT3ers; The Survivor Girls; The SoonToBes; The "Jens:" Jenny G. and Jen T.; Robin K.; Val A.; Chris S.; Cindy S.; Julie P.; Mom and Dad; Nan; and of course, my own family—I'm so glad you love pizza!

  My publisher, Dominique Raccah, and the team at Sourcebooks: Danielle, Sarah, Susie, the marketing department, and everyone else involved with the sto ries—thank you all for bringing my dreams to fruition. Especially to Anne Cain for the utterly gorgeous covers that really capture my world.

  And to the readers who have embraced that world, I thank you for your emails. As much as you've said I've helped or amused you, you've given it back tenfold to me and make all of this fun and worthwhile.

  About the Author

  Judi Fennell is an award-winning author whose romance novels have been finalists in Gather.com's First Chap ters and First Chapters Romance contests, as well as in the third American Title contest. She lives in suburban Philadelphia, Pennsylvania, and spends family vacations at the Jersey Shore, the setting for some of her paranor mal romance series.

  Author of In Over Her Head and Wild Blue Under, Judi has enjoyed the reader feedback she's received and would love to hear what you think about her Mer series. Check out her website at www. JudiFennell.com for excerpts, reviews, contests, deleted scenes, and pic tures from reader and writer conferences, as well as the chance to "dive in" to her stories.

  Read all of Judi Fennell's Mer trilogy

  Now available from Sourcebooks Casablanca

  From

  Reel carried the woman toward his home. Had he done the right thing? The Powers-That-Be were not going to be happy. There was going to be Hades to pay.

  "So where are her fins?" Chum swam up on his right.

  "I told you. She doesn't get any."

  "But I thought when you turned a Human, they—"

  "Their lungs are able to breathe oxygen from water, Chum. Just like me and the rest of the Mers. That and they get the ability to see, speak, and hear underwater. But she doesn't get fins." If he couldn't have them, it'd be really unfair for turned Humans to get them.

  Reel blew through a school of herring, their silver scales sparkling like a burst of moon-glow around them.

  "Seems kinda unfair. They can't keep up with the rest of you if, say, Harry gets a hankering for a tasty meal."

  "Harry's going to keep his rectangular head out of my territory, if he knows what's good for him." He angled down to a lower trench, skimming above a family of starfish out for a slow slink across a rusted ship anchor.

  Those earlier Humans hadn't been too bright about sail ing. His great-great-grandfather had told him hundreds of stories about drowning people being saved by dolphins. Well, what they'd thought had been dolphins.

  "So, now what are you going to do with her? When she wakes up, she's going to have a ton of questions."

  "And whose brilliant idea was it to turn her?" Reel glanced at her face, now restful in sleep rather than death, her chest rising and falling like his own. Her lungs were working perfectly.

  "Hey, don't look at me. You could have let her drown."

  "Like that had been a choice." But, oh, was he in for it when The Council heard about this. Turning a Human was expressly forbidden. No one had turned any since the massive sea-serpent hunts two hundred selinos ago.

  A Human had changed his mind about living under the waters and told his kind about Mers, which caused the Great Exodus from coastlines. Before that, they'd enjoyed hanging out on nice sunny beaches
among the seals, swimming in the surf, and passing themselves off as dolphins for the local legged folk, but that mass hunt ing of his kind had sent them to the ocean depths.

  Then Humans had come up with all sorts of gadgets for exploring the sea bottom. Massive trolling nets, subma rines, sonar, scuba gear… it was difficult to live a normal life anymore. No late-night jumping contests in the shore line surfs—not unless they were uninhabited islands, and where was the fun in that? And even though he physically looked like a Human, his parents had grounded him for risking such exposure at their crowded beaches.

  And for good reason. No Human could know Mers existed, or they'd be out on their ships in no time. With the technology they had today, an intensive hunt could lead to an intensive slaughter.

  And he'd just brought one of their kind over.

  He must be out of his brain-coral mind.

  She exhaled and moved slightly in his arms. Her

  eyelashes were the same seal brown as her hair. They swept her cheeks where the sun had lingered a bit too long, leaving a sprinkling of sun-dots on her nose, but even those were adorable. He wondered if her eyes were as Caribbean blue as he remembered.

  Fish, she was so tiny. Her legs were in proportion to what he'd expect to see on a small Mer of her size, but to be so slight! His people were full of muscle to battle the roiling waves in storms, to swim downstream in the strong currents of the North Atlantic, to outrun a hungry white or orca…

  She'd never be able to survive the rigors of his world. Maybe he should have let her die or taken the chance of rushing her to the surface…

  "Dude, what's done is done. She's turned. Now you get to keep her."

  "She's not a pet, Chum."

  "It's sure going to feel that way until you get her used to her new home away from home."

  "You know, I could use a little more confidence at the moment. A little more help. You were all full of advice while she died. 'Turn her, Reel. No big deal.'"

  "Hey, that rhymed."

  Reel rounded a guyot. Behind the rise in the ocean floor yawned the gutted hull of a once-proud U.S. bat tleship behind the gates he'd salvaged, complete with guards. No one entered his lair without permission. That included chatty remoras.

  "I'll catch up with you later, Chum." He sped through the gates, nodding to the monkfish on duty.

  "But—"

  Reel turned back, the woman's hair wrapping

  around his waist like a trawling net, only now he didn't mind being snared. "When she wakes up, she's going to freak out seeing me. We don't need to add talking fish to the equation."

  "But every fish talks."

  "She doesn't know that." He turned back and headed inside. "Yet."

  From

  Rod ran his fingers over Valerie's smooth leg, down the curve of her calf, around the heel, and gently probed the indentation below the anklebone.

  "I don't think it's broken." Zeus, there were so many little bones in there.

  And if he focused on that, instead of the soft puffs of breath brushing his cheek and the scent of flowers cling ing to her skin, he might be able to ignore the heat radiat ing from her like the volcanic rock that lit his world.

  Then he touched another spot that made her flinch and she grabbed his arm. Electricity raced from her fin gers straight to his groin.

  There was no ignoring that.

  But he had a job to do, not to mention a throne to in herit by doing it, and he'd focus on that, and not the fact that her shell-fillers—breasts, Reel said Humans called them—were mere inches from him.

  He shifted another inch or two away from her just to ensure he stayed focused, which also ensured that she'd remove her fingers from his arm.

  A High Councilman did have to make sacrifices for his people.

  "Rod, I'll be fine." She tried to stand and nibbled her upper lip again, an action so insignificant it shouldn't have caught his attention—but did.

  Especially when she did it again.

  Chum's words about falling in love with her came back to taunt him.

  But that was ridiculous. He wasn't falling in love with her because she was beautiful. He'd been around beautiful women before. Hades, all Mer women were beautiful.

  It was just that Humans weren't beautiful, and he hadn't expected her to be.

  Her Mer blood must be shining through. Just like her eyes, blue as the Tyrrhenian Sea, shone beneath the jumble of blonde curls that framed her face with those adorable sun-dots bridging her nose.

  "Um… Rod?" She tapped his shoulder this time, and, clothing or not, it had the same effect as when she'd touched his bare skin.

  Not a thought he needed at the moment.

  "Yes?" He cleared his throat and willed his body to simmer down. This attraction was odd. Stronger than he'd had to anyone before. Must have something to do with the air…

  "Could you help me up? The shirts… they're too soft to push off of."

  Then she nibbled her lip again. Good gods.

  But what could he say? No?

  So instead, he prepared himself to touch her again, stood up, and held out his hand. "Uh, certainly."

  Her fingers rested in his palm. Yeah, there was no preparation for that…

  "Thanks. I'm sorry for knocking you down—"

  "It was nothing, Valerie."

  She arched an eyebrow at him, steadying herself with yet another touch to his shoulder. "Really? You have women bowling you over all the time, do you?"

  None before her, and he didn't mean the incident on the floor.

  Zeus. What was wrong with him? She was just an other female. Half-Human at that, and he was the next High Councilman. He needed to back off.

  But then she stumbled as she tried to take a step, and he instead swung her up in his arms. Big mistake. It was as big a gesture on land as his brother had said.

  He deposited her on top of the counter. "You should stay off that leg." And out of his arms.

  Valerie looked up at him with those beautiful blue eyes, startled wide now, and a blush tinged her cheeks before she quickly lowered her golden lashes. "Um, thanks, but I have work to do. This mess has got to go."

  And she had to go, too; that was the thing.

  That bird, whoever he was, had a lot of explaining to do, and Rod would put out a call to Air Security to fol low up once he and Val were on their way to the ocean. But right now, Val had something more pressing to deal with.

  "Don't worry about it, Valerie. You have your fa ther's estate to concern yourself with now."

  She licked her lips, moistening their soft pink sheen, then nibbled one again. He still found the action mesmerizing.

  "Right. My father's estate. Um, listen. I appreciate you coming here to tell me about it, Rod, but I'm going to pass."

  "What?" That statement got his eyes off those perfect lips. "You can't."

  "Yes, I can. I don't want it. At all." She slid to the edge of the counter. "Thank you for stopping by, but as you can see, I've got my work cut out for me, so if you don't mind…"

  She was refusing?

  No. That wasn't possible. She had to accompany him.

  "Valerie, you don't understand. You must accept this inheritance. And soon. Time's running out. Just come with me to New Jersey, and the estate will be all yours."

  In Rod's experience, the words "legacy," "inheri tance," and "dreams come true" brought people swim ming—make that, running. The Council had fabricated this story for that very reason.

  He'd hated the thought of lying to her. Oh, there was an estate. But it wasn't a cherished memento or a bag of currency he could hand over. No, Valerie stood to inherit the governorship of the Southern Ocean. They'd all agreed, however, that spouting off about Mers and Atlantis to an unsuspecting Human would damage Rod's credibility and risk her refusal. Not to mention break that rule again—and that was not an option.

  Hades, they'd gone to the trouble of manufactur ing those papers to make the story seem legitimate in Human terms. All he needed to do w
as get her to the ocean where one drop of seawater would begin her transformation so she could learn—and believe—the truth. A tail was very convincing. But if he couldn't even get her to come with him…

  No. That was not even a consideration.