The Merman Boxset: Gay Merman Romance

by Aratare, X.

  He’ll be fully back with me soon, Gabriel told himself, hugging the idea close, then he turned and went into the cottage.

  Gabriel knew he should head up to the shower. He should then lay down and wait for Casillus and the others to return. The less he strained himself the more energy he would have for later. But he didn’t do that. Instead, he found himself wandering through the rooms in the cottage and looking at everything as if to memorize it.

  He touched the smooth backs of the chairs in the dining room. He ran his hands along the countertops in the kitchen. He even patted the appliances as if they were pets and not inanimate objects. He went so far as to open the refrigerator to gaze inside a few times. He knew that he was both saying goodbye to his old life by doing this and also distracting himself from what was happening at the settlement.

  He didn’t want to think about Greta and Roger blithely walking into the temple with the pot past the guards with guns and then sidling back out again. Would this really work, or was it ridiculous? And what if Johnson came back early? What if he was in the temple? So many things could go wrong. More than once he checked the clocks to see how much time had passed. The sun had fully set now and the house was in full shadow, but he didn’t yet want to turn on the lights.

  If I keep padding through the house in the dark, worrying about what could be happening at the settlement, I’ll drive myself crazy. An idea suddenly struck him. I know what I’ll do. I’ll gather all of the things I found from Samantha Braven, including her husband’s journal, and get them ready for Grandma. They are the beginning of my story, too, in a way. Grandma will want them.

  With that thought in mind, Gabriel headed from the first floor to his bedroom where he was keeping the box he had found the kalish and journal in. Halfway up the stairs while he was considering whether or not to give the kalish to his grandmother the mental blast came. It was as if someone had screamed at the top of their lungs directly into his ears. He was rocketed back by it and nearly pitched end over end down the stairs. At the last moment, he grabbed the banister and collapsed down on one knee, nearly completely overcome. He was not able to move or speak for what felt like ages. His brain felt like it was rattling around inside of his skull. He realized then that the scream was from Casillus. Cold dread gripped him and he groped for their bond.

  Casillus? Gabriel got out, but he could form no further words.

  The bond was open again, but Casillus’ thoughts were garbled and the images that flashed through Gabriel’s mind were chaotic. There was shouting. Screams. What sounded like gunshots. And then running, running, running. At first Gabriel could make no sense of it, but then everything suddenly became far clearer. Startlingly clear.

  They were waiting for us! Casillus cried. All is lost. Johnson was there. He was there! He knew what we intended!

  Gabriel closed his eyes so that he was just seeing through the Mer’s. Casillus was running back through the cave toward the beach. The cave was dark and the ground was uneven, yet the Mer ran full speed. Then ahead of him appeared the opening to the cave mouth. Moonlight streamed onto the beach. It was almost as bright as day. Gabriel found himself urging Casillus to run faster and faster and faster.

  Get out of there, Casillus! Head to the water!

  It was then that Gabriel realized that Corey was racing beside Casillus. A wave of relief crashed over him. Corey was okay! His best friend’s breathing echoed eerily in the cave. But then came the sounds of pursuit, including footfalls and curses. Casillus looked over his shoulder. There were beams of light from flashlights behind them, bobbing up and down in the dark like crazy shooting stars. They were pursued!

  Johnson grabbed Greta and Roger on the steps of the temple! Casillus explained. He had men at the mouth of the cave. As soon as Corey left to go into the tent they saw him and started after us.

  There was a sudden pained cry from Corey. Casillus skidded to a stop and spun around towards the red-haired young man who was, ironically, almost invisible in the darkness. Corey was on the ground. He was grabbing his right ankle. Gabriel realized immediately that his best friend had just twisted it, likely from stepping into a hole in the loose sand. The men following them were closing in. They were only ten feet behind Corey’s prone form.

  Corey, no!

  “Go, Casillus, GO!” Corey cried. He wildly waved at Casillus to keep running, to get away.

  The thought of Corey in the hands of Johnson’s goons made Gabriel’s stomach lurch. This couldn’t be happening! How had it gone so wrong? He wasn’t the only one to be wondering this. Casillus’ mind was filled with the same questions, but the Mer focused himself on getting Corey out of there. He would carry him if he had to.

  But the red-haired young man shouted, “Get into the water! Leave me! Casillus, leave me!”

  There was an angry whining sound. It took Gabriel a moment to realize it was a bullet. Someone was shooting! Someone was shooting at Casillus and Corey! Gabriel tried to get up onto his feet. He had to get to them! But his legs wouldn’t obey him. Gabriel was still frozen.

  There was another angry whine, and this time rock rained down on Casillus’ shoulders. A bullet had hit the side of the cave near him, shattering rock and sending it spinning through the air. Because Gabriel knew Casillus also understood what those bullets could do to him yet he still hesitated, wanting to help Corey. He already loved the red-headed young man almost as much as Gabriel did. He would not leave unless there was no other choice.

  And suddenly there was no other choice.

  Three shadowy men piled on top of Corey. One of them had his shoulders, another had his legs and the third had something pressed against his temple that made Corey sit as still as stone. His face was a white blur in the darkness. But then Corey was again shouting at Casillus to run. Run. RUN! One of the men cuffed him on the side of the head and Corey went down with a groan. Gabriel cried out.

  One of the men then lifted something that glinted in his hand. A gun. Gabriel gasped. The man was pointing it at Casillus’ chest. The Mer was only twenty feet away. He wouldn’t miss at that range. If he pulled the trigger Casillus would die. But at the last moment, another of the men slammed his hand down on the gunman’s arm, sending the barrel down towards the floor of the cave.

  “Don’t, you fool! Don’t you remember what Tims said? Not the gun! Not the Glock!” the man growled.

  Casillus had no choice but to turn and flee then. The Mer grieved at leaving Corey. He cursed Johnson and the goons with every breath. Every fiber of Casillus’ being told him to go back, but he knew he could do nothing. Gabriel felt the same.

  The Mer was out of the cave now and onto the beach. Sand puffed up. He was racing towards the water. Fifty feet. twenty-five feet. Fifteen feet. He heard soft footfalls behind him as two of the goons flew out of the cave and came after him. They would not be able to follow him into the depths of the sea. Once Casillus reached the water he would be safe. Gabriel held his breath. Casillus would make it! He had to!

  But suddenly there was this fwumping sound and then there was a terrible pain in the middle of Casillus’ back. The fwumping sound occurred again and a second pain joined the first. Casillus stumbled. He caught himself and tried to keep running. The sea was only five feet away! But the Mer could no longer feel his legs. He staggered forward, his feet touching water, but he simply couldn’t go any further. He was falling. Casillus collapsed face-first into the surf. He was in the water, but not far enough. He could not move. He tried to drag himself further into the oceans, but the goons grabbed a hold of the shift around his waist. They dragged him back onto the land and turned him over.

  Not the gun. Gabriel’s mind repeated the words the one goon had said to the other in the cave, and then he realized what they had meant. Not the gun with the bullets, the gun with the darts. They had another weapon. A tranquilizer gun.

  Casillus was now on his back, staring up at the sky. There were so many stars. They were sprinkled across the velvety blackness. It was beautiful a
nd cold and unfeeling. Casillus was but one person in all the worlds there were. He was insignificant and precious at the same time. Was Cthulhu the only god out there that looked after Mers? Gabriel wondered. Was there no one and nothing looking down and seeing the wrongness of this? The faces of the goons suddenly appeared in front of him, blocking Casillus’ view of the sky.

  Theirs were the faces of soldiers. It was unnerving how easy it was to tell that they were not civilians. It wasn’t just the crew cuts, their trim, muscled forms or even the body armor they wore. It was their eyes. Those eyes had seen death. Lots of it. They were looking at Casillus now, gazes roving over him in a cold, detached appraisal that chilled Gabriel. One of them grunted and pointed to Casillus’ sides. The water had undoubtedly brought out his gills. Gabriel clutched his own sides as if he could shield the Mer in some way by doing that.

  “He’s one of them,” the goon said.

  “Not the one that Johnson’s going after though, right?” the other goon asked.

  Not the one … does he mean me? Gabriel thought, a chill running through him.

  “No, this one’s got long hair. Older, too. He was never human,” the first goon said.

  Never human. The words were spat out.

  “Better call Johnson and tell him the one he wants isn’t among them,” the second goon said as he unclipped a walkie-talkie from the right strap of his bullet proof vest.

  “Call him while I get this one up. Johnson will want him for study,” the first goon responded.

  “Right.”

  The first goon handed his weapon over to his compatriot and lifted Casillus up into a fireman’s carry. The man grunted at the Mer’s weight but he finally straightened up. Casillus’ view now was of the man’s back and the sand. Casillus vision was going in and out. Unconsciousness was overtaking him like a rogue wave.

  Gabriel … Gabriel, you must—must get out … out of the—the house, Casillus said.

  Gabriel could barely form a coherent thought in response. He was in agony, he was losing consciousness himself right along with Casillus. Coming to get you. Coming—

  NO! Go—go—go into the sea. Await—await Aemrys … Johnson is coming for—for you …

  And then Casillus was gone, sucked into oblivion.

  Gabriel lay like a dead thing on the stairs. His body hardly felt like his own. He was like a marionette whose strings had been abruptly cut, yet the puppeteer was still trying to make him dance. But then he began shaking badly. His teeth chattered. His arms finally responded and he was able to wrap them around his chest, in an attempt to still the involuntary movement.

  I’m in shock. Maybe part of me is still with Casillus. But I need to get it together. I need to stand.

  He had to get to Casillus, Corey and the others. He had to rescue them. Gabriel grasped the banister and hoisted himself to his feet. His legs trembled beneath him like a new-borne fawn’s. He took one step down the stairs. He waited a moment until he felt steadier and then took another step. Right at that moment he saw the headlights of a vehicle as it pulled into the cottage's drive. He had a momentary hope that it was his grandmother returning home from the council meeting, but he immediately knew it wasn’t her. It was Johnson. He could feel the ex-soldier’s mind out there. It was touched by darkness. It was touched by Cthulhu. And it thought only of capturing him.

  Gabriel staggered to the bottom of the stairs just as he heard the crunch of gravel as two people got out of Johnson’s SUV and headed for the cottage. One of them was going to the front door and the other seemed to be heading around to the back.

  They’re trying to cut me off from the one place I can escape from them: the sea.

  Gabriel’s limbs felt alien to him, but he forced them to work as he tottered down the hall. His movements became more fluid once he made it to the kitchen and he was able to run to the back door. One man was already at the front door. Gabriel glanced behind him and saw the silhouette though the screen. The man’s voice was harsh as it shouted for him to stop. It was not Johnson. Gabriel suddenly realized that it must be Johnson who was going around to the back.

  Gabriel thrust his hands out in front of him as he slammed out of the back door and onto the porch. The screen pulled out of its housing and tangled around his arms, but Gabriel kept going. Out of the corner of his eye he saw that Johnson was rounding the side of the house. Johnson physically jerked to a halt for a moment, and Gabriel knew that Johnson had seen him. Johnson let out a shout.

  “Gabriel! Gabriel, stop! Stop! You must stop!” Johnson cried.

  But Gabriel didn’t stop, didn’t slow down, and didn’t look back. He had to make it to the ocean. He was going into the sea. Alone. It was the only way to save his lover and his friends.

  “Gabriel, you must stop! Don’t make me do this! Don’t make me stop you!” Johnson’s voice rose up like a roar.

  Just as Gabriel’s feet hit the water he heard the first fwumping sound. He nearly jumped straight up in the air, but there was no accompanying pain. Johnson had shot at him with a tranquilizer gun, but he had missed. He was thigh deep in the sea when the sound of the second shot came. He immediately dove underneath the waves without any hesitation. He felt something streak past his left cheek. The dart. It sank harmlessly to the sandbar in front of him. Then Gabriel swam. He swam as fast as he possibly could. He headed for deep water. Deep, black water. It was the only place he would be safe.

  5

  NEW PLAN

  Gabriel swam until the sea floor was lost from sight, and then he kept swimming out and out and out. The fear of being caught fueled his flight. It wasn’t fear for himself, though, but for what might happen to Casillus, Corey and the others if he was caught. If he, too, were in Johnson’s control, what hope would they have? Even less than the slender thread that they had now with him being free.

  He finally stopped swimming. He hoped he was far enough out. Surely, Johnson could not find him here. Fine tremors ran through his body as he floated about twenty-five feet below the surface. The trembling came from the aftereffects of adrenaline. He curled into a fetal position until the tremors slowed then ceased. Once his body was under control, he realized just how far he had swam and how terribly alone he was.

  Around him the water was silver from the moonlight, but beneath him it was nearly black with the darkness of the deep. He could feel his gills fluttering at his sides. His shirt billowed up underneath his arms. He did not shrug it off, as he knew that eventually he would need to return to land and it would help hide what he was.

  Even after all that had happened his mind was curiously blank. He knew why. He was alone. Black water was all around him. The was no land in sight. Yet there were greater things to fear. The loss of Casillus and Corey among them. He closed his eyes, wishing he could take a deep breath to steady himself, but the gills did not allow that. They kept up their rhythmic, steady movement.

  What do I do? How do I rescue them?

  He could faintly feel Corey’s mind, like a sonic ping, coming from the settlement. Despite being far out at sea Gabriel realized that he knew exactly where he was in regards to the shore. It was a neat Mer ability and he was glad for it. It made him feel less untethered to everything. With his Caller abilities he could sense where Johnson was holding Corey, Casillus and the others, too. It was as if he had a map in his mind and he was the glowing blue dot while his friends were a glowing red dot. But he could do little with this information. He could swim to the temple, but there would undoubtedly be plenty of those armed goons guarding them. Gabriel had no illusions that he could somehow fight his way through trained military men and free his friends. It was ludicrous. He needed help. He simply couldn’t do this on his own.

  You will change your mind. The memory of Cthulhu’s words slid through his brain. Gabriel thrust them away as soon as they appeared. The last thing he needed to do was to call the monstrous entity here now.

  But what if it’s the only chance to save them? But could it save them? Even if there
was some way to protect Casillus, Corey and the others from its ill-effects, what about the millions of other people on the East Coast that wouldn’t be so lucky when it made landfall? No, it’s not an option.

  He then thought about contacting his grandmother. She was a councilwoman and could make the police accompany them to the settlement. But if he called his grandmother and the police became involved, even though his friends would likely be fine, the existence of the Mers would be exposed. He and Casillus would most likely be locked up in some government facility and experimented on. Maybe the military would take Johnson’s view on Cthulhu and the Mers and try to harm them. So that really wasn’t an option either.

  Who else could he turn to? What about the Mers themselves? He could contact Aemrys right now and have him relay back to the warriors in Emralis that their prince had been captured. But it would take days for them to get here. Days that Casillus might not have. Gabriel feared that Casillus wouldn’t even last a few hours under Johnson’s care. But maybe Aemrys would have some ideas anyways, things that Gabriel wasn’t thinking of.

  Besides, he needs to know that the prince of the Mers is a prisoner and it’s my fault. I was the one that insisted on moving the damned statue. I was the one that insisted on staying on land today. After what happened in the temple, I should have gone into the water with Casillus.

  Like he had with the thought of Cthulhu, he pushed those miserable thoughts away from him, too. Those “would have, could have, should have” type thoughts would not change what had already happened. He had to deal with things as they were. Guilt would only cloud his thinking. He needed to be crystal clear in his planning. He shut his eyes as he prepared to call his ancestor. Looking into the silvery water only reminded him of his old fears of the sea and disturbed his concentration.

  After a moment, he sent, Aemrys.

  There was no response. He remembered how easy it had been to touch Aemrys’ mind before, but that was because he had unconsciously been thinking about the man for some time with the glory of House Liseas all around him. This time he was just reaching out into the darkness with nothing to remind him of the other Mer. He settled himself and tried again, but this time he imagined a silver cord connecting him to his ancestor. He imagined a vibration going through the cord, jangling Aemrys, alerting him that he was needed like a phone ringing.