Lovers in Deep: A Reverse Fairy Tale Merman Romance (The Sea Men Book 3)
Page 5
“My whole life you hid from me. People believed I was crazy though I never faltered in my belief you existed. You’ve repeatedly abandoned me and when we finally came face to face, you embarrassed me.”
A wave rolls, but it does not come up on shore. A breeze blows and my skin chills. Rubbing my arms, I look up to see more stars are twinkling.
Water pools at my feet and flows away. I won’t play with you like that again, he writes.
“Play? Is that what you thought you were doing? Do you think it’s okay to play with people like that? I don’t like to be played with.”
No, I suppose not. You’re no longer the child I saved. You’re a woman now.
What did he say? “You saved me?”
Yes, against my better judgment, I intervened.
He saved me! This is why I’ve been obsessed with him. I always knew we were connected, but the trailing comment undeniably hurts. “Against your better judgment? Are you saying you wished you hadn’t saved me? Left me to die?”
I’m saying I wished I’d done a better job of not letting myself be known to you.
Odd. “Why?”
Because you’ve spent your entire life chasing mermen.
“There’s nothing wrong with that,” I confess. “I’ve loved doing the research. I’ve fallen in love with the folklore. I enjoy knowing I’m an expert—an expert in magic. I’m confident there are many folks who would give up all their real-world possessions to know the things I do.”
But you deserve more than magic, Athena. You deserve love. Real love.
I don’t understand what is going on here. It seems he wants me to give up my chase on magic and mermen, but he wants me to get into the boat. Of course, I’m suddenly afraid to go. I’ve never feared to be in Willis’s presence before, but this is the first time I’ve ever gotten an invite, which makes me suspicious. Still, there is an undeniable ache to get to know more about him. I figure it’s the scholar in me and I march my feet towards the paddleless rowboat and get in. “Where are you taking me?” I look at the sand.
To a place known only to me. That’s what you want isn’t it, Athena? To learn more about me?
“Yes,” I admit although I have to say I’ve dreamt of more. Much more. Physical more. Intimate more. Even though I don’t really know him.
We must travel across this great sea, he writes. The journey will last several hours. Are you sure you’d like to go? Do you trust me?
I smile, getting comfortable. “I’ve always trusted you before, Willis. It’s you who never trusted me.”
Water flows in gentle waves to surround the boat and I am lifted and then pushed towards the darkening open sea.
For the first few hours, the journey is lovely. Stars shine brighter than I have ever known them to be. And there are so many of them! Like an intricately woven web, stars sprawl to sparkle across the night sky. Millions of stars I’d never seen before twinkle and I get the feeling they aren’t just twinkling but winking at me.
I spy Orion and the bull, Taurus, my favorite constellations. I regret Theseus, the greatest and my most favorite hero in Greek mythology, is not among the stars. “Perhaps,” I tell Willis, “There is more to Theseus’ story that has yet to be written, which is why he is not up there. What do you think?” I ask, but recall that Willis cannot reply.
Though I know I am in his company, it still feels lonely out here and I wonder how Willis feels about living where he does—without genuine human contact and virtually living in the middle of nowhere. The worst is it’s boring.
I hunker down to lay curled on my side. My lids are getting heavy. As I shut my eyes, Willis continues to swiftly push the boat across the ocean’s surface adding a gentle tip from side to side, and I smile to myself. He’s rocking me to sleep.
Shuffling and a soft screech. The sounds funnel through my ears and I open my eyes.
Wood. I’m surrounded by chipped and moldy wood painted red under an awakening blue sky. I remember I fell asleep in a rowboat made for two, although I had to sleep alone so Willis could push me.
Shuffling and more screeching ensues. Someone or something sounds like it’s trying to get into the boat and I sense I’m no longer moving.
I pop my head up over the edge when my ears are overtaken by an influx of cries and shrieks. I shriek myself but am quickly silenced as sand is thrown into my face.
“Monkeys?” I snort... and blink... and spit. “Yuck.” Sand has found its way into facial crevices I had no idea I had.
Hastily, the fur-covered critters scurry across the beach towards the edge of a tropical forest line, but they keep their heads poked out of the foliage to assess me. They don’t look dangerous but then again, there are at least thirty or forty of them and they all appear to have very large white square front upper incisors laid between very long, sharp yellowing fangs. They could easily attack me. Adrenaline surges. I think I’ve gone into fight or flight mode.
“Willis?” I call out and a wave unfolds, knocking the boat.
Peeping over the edge, I see he’s left an arrow in the sand. It points straight towards the edge of the forest line, through the line of gawking monkeys.
“You want me to go that way? I don’t think so.” I shake my head. “Where are we?”
Another wave fans across the beach to reveal the arrow once again and the word, Home.
I take a breath and get up. I remember I’ve been waiting for this. I didn’t just want to prove the existence of mermen but I’d secretly hoped Willis would find some connection with me to whisk me away to his fantasy island and whaddya know?
Here I am.
He and I—we are connected, and I’m about to plant my feet on Fantasy Island. But like a dummy, I’m hesitating.
Another wave knocks the front end.
“All right,” I grumble.
Stepping out of the boat, I lick my lips. My mouth is so dry.
My feet get wet before more words appear at my feet. Thirsty? Cup your hands.
Cup my hands? I do as Willis asks and to my delight, water fills my palms. I take a drink. The water tastes as crisp and clean as if it had been purified through reverse osmosis. I cup my hands again, watching them fill up, realizing he’s able to do this. Willis controls water. That is his power. He’s pulling unseen droplets from the atmosphere and allowing it to collect in my palms.
Feeling refreshed, I spy the monkeys spying me back. “Are you sure those animals are not going to hurt me?”
They’re my friends.
I step on the ‘F’ and walk up the beach. “Of course, you have friends that are monkeys. You’re a sea captain. If you were human, you would have one of those critters dressed in a pirate’s coat and sitting on your shoulder.”
My butt gets sprayed from behind and I’m furious! I told him I don’t like that, although apparently, the monkeys do. Shrieks and shrills erupt in a chorus of what I assume is laughter accompanied by applause. The monkeys are laughing at me. I don’t know why I should feel humiliated in the presence of simians. One of them—a baby in his mother’s lap—is bouncing with such delight, it makes me chuckle a little and I decide to make my way into the forest while they’re amused.
I head straight towards where Willis’s arrow was pointing. Pushing through a few oversized leaves, I find a path made of flat, foot-sized black stones and I can imagine Willis somehow laid this path for himself to walk upon when he was in his solid icy form. The stones are smooth under my feet, making for an easy hike.
There is a bit of an incline and I pause to take a breather. My stomach growls, which is embarrassing and I look around, wondering if Willis is close, but I don’t see him anywhere.
I squeal when a little monkey plops on my head, his tiny fingers gripping my hair, but I calm myself when he hands me an unusually small banana.
“Thank you,” I say, taking the banana and peeling the fruit open. It’s so small, barely bigger than my thumb, so I pop the whole thing in my mouth and gulp it down with one swallow.
Ahead, I see the path is about to end. Ferns and palm trees open to a clearing and I’m fascinated with what I see. The stones lead straight into a small pool at the edge of a steep cliff made of black rock.
I stick a foot into the clear water with a glimmering bottom. It’s shallow. The water barely covers my ankles, so I put both feet in, feeling tiny pebbles massage under the bare soles of my feet. Trinkets also appear to sparkle between pebbles and I bend down to take a closer look.
The monkey on my head shrieks and points at what I believe is a piece of gold. Reaching in to pull out the treasure, the monkey snatches the coin from me and scurries away. Little thief! I pull out another coin to examine it. This coin, a doubloon, looks exactly like Henry’s, which Shelley wears around her neck.
Sifting through more stones, I find more coins and even a gem. Lifting what appears to be a ruby to the sky, I peer through the red stone to examine the kaleidoscope of light. What people would pay for this, I wonder. The jewel reminds me of my dream—the one I’d had of Willis’s heart—and I toss the stone back into the pool.
This is sad, really. This is the place Willis calls home, but there’s nothing among all this treasure that gives any further clues as to who he is other than a collector. And it's all hidden. Like Willis’s soul, there’s nothing here but lost treasure.
Raking my hands through stones and coins and gems, I’m caught off guard by a stick of plastic, which doesn’t belong. I lift it up—it’s my pen! I lost this pen years ago on the beach.
Eyes open in the water, glaring. It’s a bit strange, but I know it’s him and my cheeks warm. “You saved my pen.” I smile, clutching the pen to my chest.
Knowing Willis is with me reminds me that I’m parched and I cup my hand in the pool to take a drink, but the water drains from my palm. I cup the water again, only to watch the water slip between my fingers.
I scowl at the eyes beneath me. “I’m thirsty.”
Willis’s eyes roll to look above me. I look up as well to spy what he’s looking at when I see water is springing from the top of the cliff. I stand up, tossing my glasses to a grassy patch, and readying myself to get wet as I stick out my tongue.
Water showers over my face—gently at first, but my body comes alive with a heavier pour. I take a few gulps before I’m turning around to feel the massage of a cool cleanse washing all the saltiness that had stuck to my skin and made my hair stiff and coarse. I lift off my dress to rinse and wring it out, feeling refreshed and clean.
Tossing my dress to a boulder on the wing, I let my hands rub over my body before I splash and spin to dance in the waterfall. But I stop when the temperature changes. The water gets cold and I know I’m being watched. I’d almost forgotten I wasn’t alone. Turning my back to the cliff, my breath hitches with the sight of the iceman standing on the stone path before me, watching me.
“Come,” I say, reaching out my hand.
He shakes his head.
“We don’t have to touch. Just join me.”
He shakes his head again.
I bow my chin. I’m so frustrated. It feels like I’ve been carrying this obsession with this man around in my mind forever and I finally know why—because he saved me.
Somewhere in my subconscious, I’ve figured I owe him and now I’m desperate, more desperate than ever to save him back.
“There’s got to be a way, Willis. Tell me what it is. Whatever you need to put you back in your human form, I’ll gladly give it to you. Whatever price needs to be paid, I will—”
The water flowing over my back turns icy as Willis, himself, bursts into a thousand shards of ice. The ice falls to the ground in the shape of an arrow pointing back down the path.
Perhaps I’ve said too much or overstayed my welcome.
“I don’t want to leave.” I hug myself, trying to withstand the freezing downpour pummeling over my back.
My feet get uncomfortably cold and I fear I have no choice but to step out of the pool before they become numb and I’m unable to walk.
Treading across the pebbles, I come onto the path. My hands are trembling—I’m freezing! Reaching for my glasses and dress, I find that it’s all dry and I’m thankful that Willis has removed every water molecule from the fabric.
Slipping my dress over my head, a cool splash folds about my ankles. Looking down, I see pieces of treasure that have been laid at my feet. I figure Willis wants me to take these coins and gems, including a pearl necklace and a tiara with a few missing diamonds. He’s giving them to me. I believe this is really the reason he brought me here—to pay me off. But for what? It doesn’t matter. I don’t want any of it.
“I already have the treasure I want, Willis. I have knowledge of you and as soon as you lay with me, you will be a man again. I know you’re afraid you might hurt me, or perhaps even kill me, but nothing would make my life more complete than to see you walk. You can have my body. I will gladly give it to you. It’s the least I can do since you not only saved my life but filled it with such wonderful mystery and magic. I’ve had the most mystical existence. You deserve to be a man again, so you can enjoy the rest of yours.”
I wait for a response but, as usual, he doesn’t do anything. The arrow made of crushed ice remains fixed, pointing back down the path.
My teeth chatter. I’m still a little cold and after a few monkeys poke their heads out of the brush to spy sadly at me, I decide to head back to the boat.
7
Willis
Swiftly, I push Athena across the ocean’s surface back to her town. The voyage takes several hours and although the wind in her hair makes her smile, it’s obvious she’s annoyed with me. I’ve offered her all I can give—the finest treasures I’ve collected for the last few centuries, but I should’ve known such things would not appeal to her.
And why did I want her to have those things?
I’m not sure.
But the fact she’s denied such fine treasures upsets me. She is unlike other women. She’s stubborn, as stubborn as she was when she was a child. The urge to tip her over and swat her behind with a lash of my belt...
Aye, the urge is overwhelming. Lucky for her, I have no legs and therefore, no pants. So, no need for a belt.
Pushing Athena close to shore, I watch from below the surface to see her step out. As her toes slip into the water, I regret that I’ve brought her back so soon.
Her heels plant in the sand causing a small flurry and I look at her legs. They have a slight pink hue. I regret that, too. I’ve cooked her. After traveling the seas for hours under the sun, I’ve allowed her skin to burn. She will be in much discomfort for days to come. The thought that I should be the one to ease her discomfort with oils soothed over her body by my hands...
Truth be told, the thought of my hands on her excites me, but I quickly toss the thought away as I have no hands to touch her with.
Athena makes her way back to her things on the beach. She shuffles through her belongings and finds her communication box. I wonder who she’s communicating with and when I see her blush with a smile and a bite of her bottom lip, I am sure her reactions are the result of being wooed by her gentleman caller. Athena has yet to look back to me to say farewell or make a promise to return, as she always does. Her eyes remain fixed on the device in her palm as if she’s obsessed with the box. She cannot look away from her communications, including while she is packing up her things. Within minutes, her bag is over her shoulder with an umbrella in hand and she is strolling away.
Watching her leave, I am beside myself. The woman doesn’t even look back. Not even after the journey we just made together. She always looks back with eyes so enormously wide they speak everything of how de
sperate she’s been to prove I exist—begging for a sign, any sign that I would show myself to her.
Though she hates it, I’m tempted to shoot water at her again to get her attention, to force her to come back even if it means she will be upset to yell at me, but I decide to keep still. I have no clue if I’ve upset her so much that she will no longer come to visit to talk or read to me. The idea that my existence will once again be a lonely one...
I don’t understand my feelings. I can’t bare the thought Athena might never return. If I had a heart, I believe it would be aching. Bleeding!
What is this? What are these? Feelings? For Athena?
Watching her disappear over the sand dune, I can only imagine where her long thin legs are headed. She’s going to walk those beautiful, burnt-to-a-crisp legs to mix and mingle with another’s.
Damn her and damn her gentleman caller.
If I had legs, real legs, that woman wouldn’t be so eager to run away.
If I had arms, real arms, I’d wrap them around her and give that woman everything she’d always wished for and then some.
With real hands and a real tongue, I’d tease and prod and poke at that woman until she was cursing, giving her a real reason to run, but I would not let her go.
And if I had my body, I’d give it to her—smother her—teach her a lesson for always wanting so much. I’d give her every Goddamned fucking thing she ever wanted—me, my flesh, my bones. Because that’s what she’s really been after and I’d give her everything.
Every. Piece. Of. Me.
Including the piece I believe she wants most. The piece she’s been saving herself for. And just when Athena thinks she’s had her fill, I’d give her that piece again and again until she bursts at the seams but only on my command, hollering, “Oh, Captain! Please, Captain! Yes, Captain!” in obedience.
But, I don’t have legs, hands, or a body at my disposal. I do know, however, where I can get those pieces of me back.
“Well, it’s about time.” Lenora folds her hair away from her face.