Falling in Deep Collection Box Set

by Pauline Creeden

  His jeans felt unnatural. Pulled over his legs, the denim scratched against his scales, irritating him. A heavy fog had settled; casting a gray hue, it dampened the morning sun. Images of Gaire washed through his mind, and he checked the corner of his thoughts now reserved for her.

  Trying to see into the large picture windows that covered the rear of the house, but squinting, he still could not see through the cloud now hanging over the bay. A revelation struck him. Gaire… He waited.

  Her answer was not long in coming. “Yes?”

  There’s a heavy fog, but the sun was shining bright earlier. Is that your doing?

  He understood that she smiled, rather than seeing or hearing it. Yes. After you’d gone, I practiced pulling clouds from the sky. I thought it would help. He sensed her uncertain pause, felt her second guessing herself, insecurity creeping into her thoughts.

  Smiling, he could see her chewing her bottom lip, and he was captivated by the image. Her hesitation filled the bond, and he offered reassurance. It’s perfect. With a twinkly-eyed scowl, he scolded, but next time, you better let me watch you practice any new talents you find.

  Not waiting for her response, he climbed the old rock steps that had been deeply laid into the sandy soil leading down to the beach. Still no movement in the yard. He approached the black-coated chain linked fence. Slipping his hands deep into his pockets, he adjusted them, a frustrated whisper escaped, “They never bothered me like this before.”

  A metallic crash caused Calder to duck low behind the slatted gate. His oversized iris pressed against the thin wood. He heard a meow and a bell jingling low to the ground, moving from the right to the left, across the thick sod.

  Cat…

  Gaire heard him, but said nothing.

  Heart pounding in his ears, he listened carefully, but no more sounds followed. The fog remained heavy, despite the climbing sun. Approaching the gate once more, he grasped the lock in his hand. He tugged. When it didn’t release as usual, he frowned, trying to remember the code.

  Why is it locked? It’s never locked. Birthday, birthday… somebody’s birthday… He puzzled. Oh. 04-21.

  Pushing aside the pang of the memory, he turned the dials to the date of Mrs. Love’s birthday.

  With a click and a lift of the wrist, it popped open. How many times have I done exactly this? Every time the same, but this time… Hooking the lock on the fence, he lifted the latch and pushed inward. The gate caught as it swung over the thick Bermuda. He leaned into it, shoving twice before pushing it open far enough to let him in.

  Stepping around, his toe caught on something soft and he tripped. Catching himself on his left foot, he straightened, turning as his temper ticked. His eye lighted on an arm bent backward, covered in a rolled up khaki shirt. Bones protruded from a dark gash in the forearm, the body warped into an inhuman shape, blood splashed across the white pants.

  The almond eyes were foggy, staring but seeing nothing. Flies buzzed over the body, walking confidently undisturbed across the dead man’s cheeks as the blood drained from Calder’s face. Anger boiled up until a seething fury enveloped him.

  “Calder? Is it Mike?” Gaire’s gentle question banked his rage.

  No, someone else. Gaire did not respond, but he felt her sorrow lapping against his wrath, cooling it until the jeopardy inherent had faded.

  So senseless, why kill the old man? Venora must answer for her actions.

  Footsteps crunched across the gravel path. Panicked, Calder darted into the studio. He searched the room. He needed a hiding place, and quickly. The fog still hid him from view, though the footsteps came closer.

  “Who is it?”

  I don’t know. Folding himself between a sideboard and the farthest corner from the door, he held his breath, his legs pressed against his ribs, pinching the floating rib on both sides of his ribcage.

  Mike stepped from the fog, mumbling to himself. “Where did that gardener go? He should be here by now.” Week-old stubble shadowed Mike’s chin and cheeks above an emaciated frame.

  The mumbling continued. “Left this door open, Calder. When will you be back from Hawaii? Venora wants to get married. My parents love her. They’ll be at the wedding.”

  A screeching voice called from the distant fog. “Mike. Mike. Come back in here.”

  The vibrating alien voice was cut off by Mike as he slid the door closed. Calder heard Mike call weakly, “Coming, Venora,” and he trudged away from the out building.

  Calder rushed to the window to watch Mike shuffle past the contorted remains of the gardener and into the heavy fog. Calder clenched and unclenched his teeth, the action echoed by his fists.

  Gaire, come quickly.

  * * *

  The full moon lit the strait, the water shimmering in sparkles. The unnatural fog had faded while Calder cursed the she-devil that held his friend captive. Looking through the window, he saw no movement inside the main house. Calder could feel Gaire drawing closer, the twins with her.

  He watched from the window, waiting quietly, feeling the rush of warmth as Gaire shifted from fin to legs. 04-21. He shared the information.

  “What?”

  Gate code. Calder did not add anything else, steeling himself for the coming task. A soft rattle of metal brought Calder to stand at the rear window, where he watched Gaire, Hope, and Melody slip into the backyard. Their feet made no sound. Hope and Melody each had heavy canvas bags slung over their shoulders.

  He gently pushed against the door, inviting them in. Standing just inside, they each left a puddle on the floor beneath them, still wet from their swim. Calder pulled Gaire against him, taking a moment to relish the serenity in her nearness.

  “Where is Mike?”

  In the house, I think. He leaned into the nape of her neck, letting her smell fill his mind. Pulling strength from the softness of her comfort, he took a deep breath. To Melody and Hope, “Are you ready?”

  Hope grinned, pulling armor from their bags and handing duplicate pieces to Melody. “My mother heard a saying once. I think it went something like… Paybacks are a water witch.” She strapped a thin gauntlet to her forearm.

  Close enough.” With that, he slipped out, quietly padding toward the house. Gaire followed, Hope and Melody following close behind, armor glinting in the bright moonlight.

  Hiding in the shadow of a corner, Calder looked into the window. Still seeing nothing, he pressed himself against the backdoor and pulled the levered handle down slowly. It clicked quietly, swinging on silent hinges, and Calder eased through.

  Almost in, he thought.

  He could feel the air thrumming with anticipation and something else.

  Gaire answered, “I think it’s me.”

  Calder puzzled only a moment before nodding, then stepping onto the wooden floor. No sound stirred. No alarm blared. He waited as Hope stepped into the living room, followed by Melody, who gently closed the door behind them. The dim lights glinted on the daggers they now held.

  The air around them began clicking, popping like static electricity in a woolen sweater. Gaire?

  “I can’t help it, Calder. She’s here. I can feel her.”

  Where?

  “Just here. That’s all I know.” Gaire’s hand closed around Calder’s arm. “But Mike is here, too.”

  Calder looked into her eyes. Something else?

  She nodded. “Mike won’t be on our side… not at first.” She bit her bottom lip.

  Even though we’re old friends? Surely he remembers me. I haven’t been gone that long.

  Gaire lifted her shoulders.

  They moved through the house, slowly, warily, peeking into each room before gingerly entering, leaving none of the vast expanse unexplored. Until finally, Calder stopped, back in the living room.

  “Where is she?” He whispered. Still here?

  She nodded. A clatter down the bedroom hallway startled the hunting quartet, bringing the twins and daggers forward into attack posture. The panic room. Calder burst between the
twins and jogged down the hall, impatience winning over caution.

  Launching himself into Mr. and Mrs. Love’s room, he dove toward the nightstand, keeping the bed between himself and the entrance to the panic room. He knew Venora could see him. A thump-thump-thump sounded from behind the wall.

  He grasped the handle on the drawer. Yanking it open, he spied the nine millimeter pistol Mr. Love kept there. Yes. Venora didn’t know and Mike forgot.

  He released the clip. Perfect. Fully loaded.

  He twisted to face the panic room entrance. “Come on. I’m waiting for you.” He bellowed at the wall, pointing the barrel at the hidden entryway. Gaire, Melody, and Hope waited in the hall, their eyes on Calder.

  The wall opened slightly. “Waiting for me?” A harsh cackle followed Venora’s answering wail. “Mike is in here.” The pounding intensified. “I can kill him.”

  “You can,” Calder concurred. “But then what keeps me from killing you?” She cackled again.

  The door opened farther. Mike sat in a stupor on the floor, staring into the distance. Anger flared in Calder again. A single tentacle slipped into the room, held over Mike’s head. Calder shot three times, missing the wiggling appendage and Mike. Another cackle sounded.

  He sank behind the bed, catching Gaire’s eye. Calder, I think I can do… something.” He nodded.

  The air in the room suddenly crinkled and popped with intensity. Green eyes glowing, Gaire lifted her hands toward Venora, palms down, eyes closed. The panic room entrance was flung wide, exposing her white-gray squid upper body, over the humanoid lower shape.

  Calder squeezed the trigger. Three more shots flew. Aim true, two grazed the shape shifter’s elongated head and one lodged in her shoulder.

  Her pain-filled shriek shook the window panes. Mike roused, mumbling to himself, patting the wound. “Poor Vee, poor Vee,” he repeated over and over.

  She struck him, lifting him from his feet and flinging him into the frame. He crumpled to the floor.

  Calder bellowed, “Mike.” He threw himself onto the king size bed, squeezing the trigger and emptying the clip into the squishy creature. She did not fall, but shrieked again, slamming each of her ten arms on the floor, splintering the hardwood and breaking tiles. Throwing herself at Calder, she knocked him to ground at the foot of the bed. Her ten arms soon overpowered his two.

  Out of the corner of his eye, Calder saw Mike stir, then stand, swaying on unsteady feet. Mike reached into the secret room. When he brought his hand back, he held a 454 revolver. As if under a spell, Mike stepped toward Calder, holding the weapon out at arm’s length, pointed directly at Calder.

  Struggling against her, Calder tried to free himself. Each time he freed an arm or a leg, she recaptured it. Mike still pointed the gun barrel at him. Can’t get free.

  He felt Gaire strain, just behind the wall, all three still hidden from Venora.

  “Hush, I will not let you die.”

  Mike pressed the barrel against Calder’s forehead. Gaire, he thought again. I love you.

  “Hush.”

  He felt her reach out, siphoning energy from the earth, the water, the sky. Molecules danced in the air. He struggled against the arms holding him down. Venora’s hold weakened when she turned to study the wall that hid Gaire.

  She feels it, too. Gaire, what are you doing?

  “Distract her.” Calder kicked his knee toward Venora, trying to unseat her. “You’re going to die.”

  Venora glared at Calder. “No, I won’t.”

  Mike pulled the hammer back, eyes glazed over, Venora began cackling manically. Mike said, “You are dead, Cold Water. Dead. Gaire will die.”

  A light exploded in front of Calder’s eyes, dulling his senses. Two screaming women clattered into the room, shouting. A shriek sounded close to his ear. The blast of a gun sounded close to Calder’s ear, and then there was nothing.

  Dead, am I dead? Have I been shot?

  He blinked rapidly, his vision slowly returning. As his pulse throbbed in his ears, everything else was a blank of sounds. Dark shapes slowly congealed into people, features appearing in the shadows.

  Realizing he was no longer held down, Calder heard himself call, “Gaire?” The sound was muffled and faraway. The twins were hunched over the gelatinous remains of Venora. Bits of tentacles stretched out from a semi-humanoid shape, and the tips twitched like a snake missing its head. Pushing himself up to an elbow, Calder surveyed the room.

  Gaire’s cool hands caressed the hair at the nape of his neck, humming what seemed a familiar lullaby. “See, you’re alive,” Gaire crooned.

  A blue glow settled over Calder. His heartbeat raced, pushing weariness from his limbs, and clearing his thoughts. When Gaire’s hands fell away, Calder discovered that even his stomach had settled, despite the gore still covering the room.

  “It’s done.” Gaire spoke the words softly.

  Calder asked. “Venora is dead?”

  “Completely, this time. Guess I found a new gifting.”

  “Did Venora explode?”

  “It seems so.” Gaire smiled, but concern pulled her eyebrows together. “Mike is struggling.”

  Calder leapt to his feet. “Where is he?”

  Gaire pointed to the hallway. Hope cradled Mike’s head in her lap, whispering softly in his ear, stroking his face. A slight glow danced at her fingertips. Mike’s eyes were rolled back in his head, his body seizing violently. Calder looked to Gaire. “Can you do anything?”

  She shook her head. “I’ve done what I can. Hope is helping. It takes time to see what damage remains.”

  “Can we take him home? Will they accept him?”

  “If I accept him, they will accept him. But how will we get him there? He’s not a merman.”

  Calder’s answering grin was mischievous. “Have you ever been on a yacht?”

  Chapter 2

  “In other news, San Francisco native and billionaire Mike Love is still missing only one month after the brutal murder of his parents. If you have any information on the whereabouts of the local billionaire, please contact Crime Stoppers at…”

  Calder switched off the radio.

  His gaze flicked across the hardwood deck. The mahogany polished to a shine, the soft leather seats were the finest quality. Mike sat huddled at the edge of a bench, staring off into the distance. Calder wondered how far away he was today. “You okay, Mike?”

  Mike startled. The dark circles were fading and his weight was increasing, but his complexion was still sallow. He flashed a weak grin, “Sure thing. Just thinking.”

  “Have any nightmares last night?”

  “Don’t think so. Hard to believe my parents are really gone. Sometimes I think I’ll wake up and find this was all a dream. She told me over and over that I had sent you on a sketching trip to Hawaii, and when you got back, we’d get married. I can’t believe I couldn’t think straight enough to know she murdered them.” Pain crossed Mike’s face.

  Calder didn’t respond. The old Mike showed up from time to time, but withdrawals from Venora’s mind control and horrible nightmares were taking their toll. Soft footsteps pulled Calder’s attention from his longtime friend. Hope’s blond hair whipped about her. She was wrapped in a sheer white dress from top to bottom.

  Meeting Calder’s eyes, she asked, “How is he today?”

  “Ready for your company, I think.” She looked sheepish. Calder hid a knowing smile, and he looked down to keep it hidden. She thinks we can’t tell. “Go on, Hope.”

  She strolled across the boat, gently seating herself next to Mike. He patted Hope’s knee, but she caught his hand, holding it until he turned to look at her. She smiled into his eyes. Mike raised his eyebrows and then his gaze dipped lower. The sheer dress hid very little, and when his gaze returned, Hope still smiled. Mike tossed Calder a blatant wink, before he settled his arm around her, pulling Hope close.

  I think he’ll be okay. He could feel Gaire winding her way up the spiral staircase.

 
“I think so, too,” she answered. “Hope is very fond of him.” She appeared on the deck, blueish scales flashing through the slit in her sarong. Out loud, “We’re almost home.”

  “When we return to Three Fingers, will you be queen?” Hope asked.

  “I promised.” Gaire tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, squeezing into the seat next to Calder behind the steering wheel. “Melody is fussing downstairs, worried about her betrothed back home.”

  “We’ll be there today.” Locking the wheel, he put his arm around Gaire, watching Mike. Hope laughed at something Mike said, and Mike beamed. “I’m pleased about that. Maybe he’ll find some happiness after all the ugly.” Gaire nodded. “And you’ll be queen.” She nodded again. “And I’ll be… What? The Orphan King?”

  Gaire laughed. “King?” She playfully pinched his tattooed side. “No, you will be my mate.”

  “Even better.” He tucked his finger beneath her chin, turning her to face him. “What will you do about the other queen?”

  Gaire shrugged. A small volume was open in her lap, a doodle in the margin caught Calder’s eye. A white-haired mermaid clutched a trident in one hand while the other gripped a crown in a tight fist. He tapped the image. “I think I’ve seen that somewhere before.”

  “Really? These are the Secret Annals, meant for queens’ eyes only.” She closed the book, tucking the small volume between them. “I wonder where you could have seen that.”

  Calder shrugged. “We’ll deal with Mother Mistress when we have to, I guess. We’ll welcome all the mermaids that leave her.”

  She paused, studying her fingernails. “I can’t believe that Venora did everything on her own. And the Secret Annals record a different story for the Mermaid that died at Benbecula. That mermaid had shown signs of becoming the next queen.

  “Adrial was careful in her recording – accusing her of insanity and ignoring laws. I don’t believe them, though. There are even some journal entries that imply the Blue Men of Minch were beginning a rebellion.” She sighed. “There are so many pieces to wade through.”