Torrents (DROPLETS Trilogy Book 3)

by Rauscher, Meaghan

  If I had thought my heart was beating fast before, it was nothing compared to the erratic pace of it now.

  “Why kill King Oberon?” I asked, desperately trying to think of anything that might draw his attention away. Having his face so close to mine was enough to make every nerve ending burn with fire.

  He sighed and moved back a few inches. The infinitesimal move was still enough to feel as though I had more space to breathe. Sucking in a breath, I waited for him to tell me the truth. Shocking me, he pulled away and returned to the chair near the fire.

  “That little event was Ressa’s idea.” He ran a hand through his dark hair. The strands fell in individual waves along the sides of his face, brushing just past the bottoms of his ears. “She wanted Zale dead, I didn’t see any reason to go against it.”

  A laugh of disbelief escaped my lips, and I looked toward the ceiling. “You make no sense!” I yelled, and felt as though something inside me actually snapped. “If you wanted Zale to be under my control, why would you kill him? Why would you kill the king? None of this makes sense!”

  “No,” he shot back at me. “It does make sense, and it scares you, doesn’t it?”

  Even as he spoke the words, I knew he was right. He claimed to realize he was losing control of Zale; all he had done, since that moment, was establish a situation to force him to trust me even more. Little had I known, Morven was hoping Zale would remember his past and be as much in love with me as before. Even the king’s death had tested our commitment to one another. Zale had walked into Lathmor knowing he could easily be executed on the spot, but he did it because he wanted to be near me.

  The full realization of everything Morven was telling me entrapped my mind, and I was surprised to hear a laugh escape my lips. This time it wasn’t a laugh of disbelief, but a laugh of desperation I couldn’t explain. The worry of the past few days fell to pieces, giving into hysterics. Over and over again, my scratched throat coughed out a choked gargling sound and it lifted throughout the room. The muscles in my stomach began to hurt with the amount of heaving and my ribs ached, as I straightened once more. Tears blurred my vision and as the nervous laughter came to an end, they rolled from my eyes, past my chin, and disappeared into the darkness surrounding my feet.

  “Are you finished?” Morven asked.

  The deep wave of his voice brought me back to reality after my moment of hilarity. Refusing to answer, I simply stared back at him, wishing I had some way of regaining my voice and breaking through his calm façade.

  The siren inside was alive and moving with eagerness in my veins. She surged in my blood, the anger I had tried so hard to quell, began to reign.

  For just one moment, I wished I was able to bait him. I wanted him to beg on his knees before me. I wanted to use my voice to torment him over and over again, forcing him to give me the answers I needed. Paying him back, blow for blow, for what he had done to Patrick.

  Patrick, his name brought forth a glimmer of hope. Breathe, Lissie.

  The anger ebbed, if only slightly. I shut my eyes, refusing to look at Morven. Seeing his face made the fury return all too quickly. Trying desperately to dispel all the rage inside, I struggled to regain control, until Zale’s words came back to me.

  “You have to hold onto your anger, use it to get you through the moment, but don’t hold on too tight or it will overcome you.”

  “I won’t,” I whispered, so quietly I could barely hear it.

  Raising my eyes to Morven standing before the fire, a sense of urgency entered my mind. I had no way of knowing how long he had been in this room with me, and still, nothing had really been done to break me.

  Fear was my enemy and my ally, threatening my future and pushing me to draw him out. Grasping for thoughts, I opened my mouth to speak, but he beat me to it.

  “You really are much more intelligent than I originally expected.” He turned to me. “When I saved you from the waters that night, I thought for certain you would easily give in to everything I demanded of you. Maybe I was the fool.” A flicker of a grin passed over his face. “And now, here you are, a siren.”

  “I’m not a—”

  “Ah,” he raised a hand and cut me off, “you are. And you know it.”

  “It doesn’t mean anything.”

  “Doesn’t it?”

  I was so tired of his questions and the constant battle he waged against my judgment. “No!” I yelled at him, displeased to see his complete lack of surprise. “It doesn’t matter if I have found my voice. It doesn’t matter if I can control others with it. It doesn’t matter, because it will never be yours to use. I will never use my voice for you.”

  “Oh, but you will.”

  “Never.”

  The word hung in the air, filling the space between us and when he turned away, I felt as though I had gained some ground. It wasn’t until he returned to his seat and raised his eyes to mine once more I realized the battle was only just beginning. My challenge had ignited something inside him.

  “What do you know about the differences between our blades and scales?”

  I was left with my mouth agape. King Oberon had asked me a very similar question once.

  “Not much,” I feigned interest, as I leaned away from the wall. “I know the scales are what transform a human into a merperson and I have the scar to prove it.” I added the words on to the end, not entirely certain of why I even said them. It wasn’t as though he cared what I thought about his transformation of me. “And I know the blades are what give a transformed merperson their special abilities.”

  He nodded his head and I couldn’t help but notice the look of pleasant surprise. “You know more than I thought you would. So you’re aware Patrick can see and hear as well as you can?”

  I nodded. “What does this have to do with anything?”

  “Aren’t you excited to be stronger and faster than all mermaids?” He quirked an eyebrow. The idea had crossed my mind once before, but I hadn’t really taken into account what it would mean.

  “I guess I haven’t thought much about it,” I shrugged, even as the thought of him placing one of his blades in me stirred up the terror I had been trying to hold back.

  He scoffed. “You amaze me. You have the chance to be something never seen before and you’ve hardly considered it?” When he stood up again, my stomach tightened.

  “Why does it matter?” I felt he was hiding something from me.

  “Ah,” he clicked his tongue. “There’s one thing your precious Lathmorians don’t understand; the blades give control over a transformed merperson. Didn’t you wonder how Patrick gave up his mind so easily? Did you ever stop to wonder why he did exactly what I said? I didn’t have to beat him within an inch of his life to gain control over him. I only did that to make him forget who he was.”

  My mouth opened to answer, but even as he said the words I realized they were true.

  “So you’re going to do the same to me?” I asked, finally recovering. This was what I had been waiting for. I could tell it was coming. His moment of assault was nearly upon me. “I will fight you,” my voice shook, “Patrick was able to break the control you had over him. You said it yourself, I’m stronger than you realized. I will fight you, and I will win.”

  He smiled and the pleasure he took in my fear made my blood boil. I would do whatever it took to destroy the control he would have over me. If Patrick was able to break through the fog of his commands, then I could too.

  “But that’s just the thing,” he said and began to roll up his sleeves. I noted the two patches of scarred skin on his forearms. I knew one was a result of the scales which now rested in my hip, the other was for Patrick’s. “You won’t be able to fight me. My mother placed the blade inside Patrick’s body, not me. I beat him because I needed him to forget who he was, and you only made that more difficult. He forgot his past and was willing to listen to me, but my control was not complete. I only have half of my mother’s blood.

  “But when I say I will be ab
le to control you, I mean that with everything I am.” He paused a few steps in front of me, and with every word he spoke my body constricted. “My scales turned you into a mermaid and it will be my blade which will complete your transition. So you see, no matter what you do, you won’t be able to fight me. My control over you will be absolute.”

  “No,” the word escaped my lips and I pressed back against the wall.

  Fear was winning, I knew there was no escape. It was the reason he hadn’t begun to beat me, it was why he was speaking so candidly. There was no reason to be cautious, I would be his.

  “Yes,” he breathed and stepped closer, his blades flashing into existence.

  Reaching his left arm toward his head, he brought the blades of his right closer. I looked away at the last second, but heard his sharp intake of breath, as something hit the floor. I was pinned to the wall, my hands hanging helplessly above me.

  Forcing myself to look, I watched him bend over and pick up the detached blade. My eyes widened in fear as he took the last step to bring us face to face. Blood was running down his arm and when he held up the blade, my eyes widened.

  Until this moment, my heart had thrummed, beating with a ferocity I didn’t know it had, but now everything seemed to go still. Each pulse was a full breath and exhalation; a heavy drumbeat inside my head, pounding against my temples as the moment drew near.

  He spun me around, my arms tangling up above my head, and I cried out. Ripping the back of my shirt, he exposed the shoulder Bolrock had wounded. Just when I thought I could gather my courage and push back against him, he crushed my body to the wall with his legs and his blades came down to meet flesh. The pain was just as I remembered it.

  I screamed and still the time didn’t pass any faster. A wet trail of blood rolled down my back, soaking the rest of the fabric of my shirt. When he shoved the blade inside the wound, an ear splitting scream pierced through the room, and it took a moment for me to realize, it was my own voice.

  With a jerk, he spun me around to face him. Dizzy and sweating from the pain, I was no longer standing of my own accord. If it wasn’t for the cuffs around my hands, I would have been a crumpled heap on the floor.

  “Goodbye, Lissie,” he panted in my ear, as I blinked heavily. It was the first time he had ever used my real name. The darkness was closing in, and I remembered something like this happening the night I was transformed.

  My stomach flipped and the world around me rocked back and forth. Leaning forward, my head rested on his chest and when he touched my hair, the darkness clouded my mind.

  My arms were unhooked and I was lifted off the floor, drifting in a weightless world until my face rested on something soft.

  Fighting with everything I had left, I struggled to open my eyes, but couldn’t. I fell into the depths of the pit, drowning in fear of what was happening. My body was burning in ways I had never experienced, and still I fell. It was with one last ditch effort, I pulled my mind together and cried out. Whether the sound actually passed through my lips, I would never know, but the image in my mind was strong as I held onto the memory of my warrior.

  And from somewhere above me, I heard a name I had been trying to run away from. The voice said the name over and over again. Telling her to wake up.

  The rage inside, long-buried, began to flow, and a new mind began to take shape.

  The siren was smiling.

  24. Marina

  Rain poured in torrents all around me, coursing down my face in silky trails like fresh-fallen tears. With open palms, I let the ribbons of water pass between my fingers. Something inside me stirred as I gazed through the grey curtains of storming rain. This was how it felt to be alive. Turning, the sand ground between my toes as I walked along the open beach. Waves crashed to my right, the foam nearly reaching my footprints, and all around me was water. A voice called to me through the violent surge and I straightened—my name hanging in the wind. Facing the direction of the voice, a man suddenly appeared. He was tall and strong, his chest bare and shining as the rain coursed down it. I felt as though I had seen his face before, as though in a dream; or a dream of a dream. He lifted his hand and beckoned to me. My heart smiled and I walked to him. When he wrapped his fingers in mine, I let my other hand reach for his face and traced it along his jawbone. He was stone. Perfect and smooth, his features definite and familiar. Biting my lip, I looked up through my eyelashes until I met his dark gaze. There was a storm behind his eyes, a grey storm to reflect the rain all around us. I was drawn to him and when he bent his head toward mine, I leaned in, running my fingers through the black hair curling beneath his ears. He was a breath away…

  I woke with a gasp—heart thundering in my chest with ferocity. I placed a hand over it, hoping to quell the madness storming inside, but it did nothing. I only felt the overwhelming desperation in its pulse.

  Opening my eyes slowly, I suddenly felt barren and dry. Dark shadows loomed all around the stone walls, and stiff sheets covered my body. Adjusting my fingers, the mattress gave way beneath my hand. To be so suddenly pulled away from my dream left me feeling cheated.

  Shifting my head, a sudden scorching pain shot along my shoulder, my breath left me for a moment. Moving more carefully this time, I rolled onto my side, keeping the throbbing shoulder away from anything which might touch it. Only when I was finally on my side, did I realize I had been holding my breath.

  A high arched ceiling rose above my head, peaking directly above the bed where the stone walls sloped back toward the floor without hindrance. There was no light in the room, no windows, candles, or even a fireplace to give some form of warmth. For some reason, I felt comfortable.

  On my right, heavy tapestries adorned the wall beside smooth oak furniture; nothing more than a chair, chest of drawers and a table, laden with uneaten plates of food. A closed door was just visible in the shadows across from where I lay and though the bed was the focus of the room, I was drawn to the tapestries. I traced the worn threads of the depiction of merfolk lying on rocks, bathing in the sun. Another wove a masterpiece of the world beneath the ocean, merfolk swirling around one another, their hair streaming behind their glistening bodies. But it was the tapestry in the center which captivated me. It depicted the aftermath of a battle. Corpses lay on the ground, heads severed with grotesque faces and half-transformed bodies discarded as though they were dead fish.

  For some reason, I couldn’t take my eyes away from it. Over and over again, I traced the forms of those who remained standing in the midst of the dead. One mermaid drew my attention. There was something about her that was familiar, and yet I couldn’t remember.

  I couldn’t remember anything.

  Taking a heavy breath, I expelled the thought from my mind. There was an innate need to move, to figure out where I was.

  Sweat beading on my brow, I pulled myself into a sitting position. As soon as I had moved, an overwhelming pain shot across the back of my left shoulder. If I hadn’t seen the room was empty, I would have thought someone had placed a hot poker against my flesh. I grimaced and moaned, but the pain didn’t stop even as I bit my lip to keep from crying out.

  My left arm seemed to be attached to my chest. If I so much as even shifted it, the fire burning along my shoulder doubled.

  Breathing deeply, the pain settled, and I could feel the eyes of the tapestries leering at me from above. I ignored their faces as I thought back to my dream. It was another distraction from the pain. Try as I might, there was nothing I could recall aside from the dream. I grasped within, trying to reach for something hidden in my mind, but there was no way to remember—no foothold to even begin.

  Glancing at the waves in the thread-woven picture made my mouth go dry. I needed water, any type would do. I wanted to feel the cool embrace of it rushing over my skin, caressing my arms and pushing against my fins.

  Tilting my head back, I let the idea of water cool the fire in my shoulder. I needed to leave this room, but the thought of standing was enough to make me flinch ba
ck in pain. It would make me weak in the knees, and I wondered if I would even be able to stay on my feet. It seemed such a simple idea, but I was certain I wouldn’t be able to do it.

  Just when I was beginning to work up the courage to stand, a soft click resounded. I turned toward the sound, to see a dark haired man enter the room. He shut the door as quietly as he had entered. His back was strong, broad shoulders angling toward a trim waist, leading to shapely, agile legs. I traced his hair, falling down to the nape of his neck where the ends curled in slightly and strands were brushed back away from his face. As he turned, my breath caught.

  It’s him. I thought, and the pain in my shoulder seemed to ebb into the background.

  His features were just as sharp as they had been in the dream, his cheeks carved by high bones and an angular jaw, flexed to a point near his chin. His hair fell in soft waves, but it was his eyes which drew me in. Grey pupils met my own and I couldn’t help but feel I was falling, as he looked back at me. When he began to walk in my direction, my stomach clenched.

  “You’re awake,” he said, and his words coursed through me.

  I didn’t respond as he came closer, his approach only made my heart begin to stir beneath my chest. With every step he took, I felt more alive. He stopped before me and reached out to pass his fingers over my cheek. The touch was soft, a delicate brush and I closed my eyes, reveling in the sensation.

  “How do you feel?”

  “I’m fine.” My voice was higher than I thought it would be. The simple thought sent my already confused mind reeling again. Why can’t I remember?

  Meeting his eyes once more, I let myself feel safe with him. He was all I knew and there was something about him which drew me in.

  “How’s your shoulder?” He cocked his head to the side, still looming high above me.