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Spellbound by the Sea Lord

Page 3

by Starla Night


  Jonah jutted a bony, pajama-clad leg out of the sheet and sighed.

  Bella ran a soothing, glove-clad index finger along Jonah’s leg to let him know she was here. He didn’t react.

  His pajama flannel must be soft. The plastic gloves blocked all sensation.

  Bella tugged the thin hospital blanket over Jonah’s exposed leg and tucked it in, smoothing the fabric.

  Then she erased Dannika’s message and the merman fantasies that accompanied it. She would not be happy for one moment until Jonah was healthy. Hear that, God? Not a single moment.

  She listened to the next message.

  “Bel— Guess you only call when you want something.”

  Acid tainted with powdered cheese burned the back of her throat.

  Her ex-husband, Chaz, dripped scorn with self-righteous indignation. “You can’t demand my bone marrow just because you never asked for alimony or child support. The answer is no, and you can go to hell for asking. Do you know how big that needle is? It looks painful. Don’t call me again.”

  Bella stopped the messages, clenched her phone, and swallowed.

  Chaz thought the procedure looked painful?

  Did he understand how many times Jonah had been through it?

  How dare Chaz—

  Jonah moaned and opened his eyes.

  She composed herself and put on a soft, welcoming smile. “Hey, Jo-jo.”

  He fixed on her. In the jittery TV light, bruised rings and hollow, sunken cheekbones looked like a skull. His dry, cracked lips tugged into the ghost of a smile. “Mom.”

  “Happy birthday.” She put on her best enthusiastic voice. “Did the nurses remember? They promised to sing.”

  He nodded slowly. Every movement took a heavy effort.

  “I asked them to blend up your birthday cake and put it in the IV. Can you taste it?”

  His light-colored brows drew together, and he frowned at the clear dangling bag of liquid. Didn’t he remember this was their joke? She used to joke all the time about injecting his favorite snacks and meals into the IV when he couldn’t keep anything down. His illness was making his brain fuzzy.

  Her throat closed and her chin wrinkled.

  She rubbed her chin and made her voice extra bright to disguise her feelings. “Can you just taste the cake? It’s Funfetti, your favorite.”

  His brow smoothed, and he tried to smile again. He remembered. “Yeah.”

  Even when he was feeling so bad that he probably had forgotten what birthday cake tasted like, he humored her to make her feel better.

  She cleared her throat. “This is a pretty sucky birthday, huh?”

  He nodded with more feeling.

  “Where do you want to go next year? We could have a huge party with all your friends, and we could go to Ninja Warrior House or Luna Park or even, you know, Disney World…”

  He thought about all his options and then said, “Home.”

  Her throat closed again. She cleared it once more. “Next year for your birthday, you just want to go home?”

  He nodded.

  She gently rested her hand on his blanket-covered leg, nodding because she couldn’t trust her voice. “Okay. That’ll be…that’ll be great for us. It will be so much fun. We’ll have a big party, dress up in our best, have your favorite lasagna and salmon rolls and daal, and play games at home.”

  He smiled tiredly. His eyelids drooped half-closed. Her window of time with him was closing.

  “Right.” Bella pulled herself together, turned to the bedside table, and picked up the unwrapped present. “Did you want to open your…”

  His eyes had closed.

  While she’d been looking away, he’d gone back to sleep.

  Bella rested the present on her lap, crinkling the paper, and then returned it to the table.

  Jonah used to sneak in late at night while she was working, and she’d pretend she didn’t see him. He’d fall asleep at the end of her desk, snoring softly, until she finished her work and carried him back to his bed.

  She should have noticed he was sick. She should have protected him.

  Hadn’t she been selfish long enough?

  A wave of sadness crushed her in its fist. She closed her eyes.

  She’d been so scared he’d never reach his tenth birthday. And here they were.

  Will he reach his eleventh birthday?

  She choked on the stabbing pain. This could not be endured. She could not endure.

  The clock beeped. Midnight.

  Her boss wanted her to come in early on a Saturday to redesign the client proposal to redeem a company she very much doubted could be redeemed, but her job was to do the impossible. Advertisers controlled the narrative. The company wanted to tell its lies. In her hands, a lie would become “truth.”

  So Jonah could keep his health insurance. So they could search for a new cure. So he could stay alive.

  She rested both hands on his bedside. Silent prayers raced through her head.

  I will save you. I don’t know how. But I will bend heaven and earth to find a cure. I will not enjoy one single moment of happiness until you’re healthy and well once again.

  And if God won’t answer, I’ll chase down the devil.

  Jonah slept, his chest rising and falling.

  Bella rose and whispered, “Good night.” She did not kiss his cheek before she left, not even through the plastic.

  Her kiss could be poison.

  Outside his plastic-encased room, she peeled off her gown. Gloves and mask went in the trash, gown and fabrics went in the linen bin for sterilization. She stormed down the hall to her locker, changed, and dropped the used outfit into the donation bin on her way out the door.

  A deep breath of dark fall air emptied her lungs of the hospital stench. She checked the subway schedule. Should she go into work now and start the redesign?

  An unknown number rang.

  She swiped her schedule and accidentally answered the call.

  “Bella Taylor.” A weirdly feminine, possibly distorted voice spoke through phone interference. “You have been selected for a one-on-one date with the merman Balim.”

  God, dating sites were aggressive these days.

  She ran a hand through her limp red hair. “Yes, thanks so much. Tell Dannika I need to cancel.”

  “You can’t cancel.”

  “Oh, I’m so sorry. Now’s not a good time.”

  “But don’t you know the mermen have drugs that could cure your son?”

  What?

  Her brain pinged, and the pebble dropped.

  No dating site would call her after midnight on a weekend.

  She pulled the phone away and double-checked her recording app. Yes, it was recording.

  Bella put the phone back to her ear and donned her client voice. “May I have the pleasure of asking who this is and how you know about that?”

  “I know a lot about you,” the distorted voice replied, smug. “As for you, you can call me ‘Herc.’”

  “Okay, Herc.” Bella paced. Working closely with the mermen had taught her a few things. Including their enemies. “It’s thrilling to meet you. Your name wouldn’t be short for ‘Sons of Hercules,’ would it?”

  “Well…”

  “You’re famous. If it weren’t for you taking a stand against mermen despite your busy finals, the world would be a very different place.” She gave a pause that she hoped would let him bask in her almost-compliment. “And you’re so dedicated. Inventive. Really ingenious. I doubt anyone knows I got selected for that one-on-one with Balim…unless the employees have been talking?”

  “Oh, they’ve been talking, all right. They don’t know I’ve been listening.”

  How very helpful.

  “And I should go on this date to get their medicine,” she continued, using her favorite strategy to pull information out of a client. “But I heard they don’t have it to give out.”

  “They have tons. A whole aquarium full in their plague-infested ‘hospital’ build
ing.”

  “Ew, I can’t give my son used aquarium water.”

  “No, no. They have more in vats. They make it all the time.”

  “Well, I’m so impressed you know these secrets, Herc. Nobody can get into the mermen’s hospital building. It must have been so hard.”

  “It was easy until they moved. But we’ll get in again. We have to drive the monsters back to the ocean trenches before they steal our women.”

  “Wow. You’re so set up. Why are you calling me?”

  “Of course, you can’t imagine,” the distorted voice continued, smug. “Because I haven’t told you.”

  “That’s true.”

  She let the silence elongate, testing his ability to withstand subtle negotiation pressure.

  “So I’ll tell you.” He raced to fill her silence. “The mermen are keeping a flower from their underwater Life Tree in an aquarium behind their reception desk. You’re going to steal it.”

  She coughed. “You want me to walk into the merman office alone and steal the only Life Tree blossom on the surface of the planet? Okay. What’s your plan?”

  “You’ll figure it out.”

  So, he had no plan.

  “And why would I accept this extremely dangerous task?” she asked pleasantly.

  “Because you’re not helping your son, Jonah, by pacing on those steps. Especially if you slip on those slimy leaves and break your neck.”

  She halted, the tips of her boots on the edge of the pile of autumn leaves. Her heart beat hard in her throat.

  Few people walked on the street, heads down, occupied. Even at midnight, visitors climbed the steps of the hospital or rushed into the emergency room.

  “Now I have your attention, call the monster office back and accept the date. You will wear our necklace, and—”

  “Your necklace? I’m sorry. You’re giving me a necklace?”

  “Yeah, so when the monster’s back is turned, you stick the flower inside the necklace to steal it.”

  She envisioned some kind of water-filled locket. Not exactly subtle. “Hmm.”

  “And if you tell anyone about this, you will be sorry.”

  “Sorry? I’ll be sorry?”

  “You’ll be very sorry.”

  Right.

  An off-duty police officer she recognized exited the hospital. Bella flew down the steps and hiked to the subway station a few strides behind the officer. “What if the necklace doesn’t match my dress?”

  “You’re not taking me seriously.”

  “Oh, no. I’m taking a threat against my life very seriously. I would hate to have to give the recording of this call to the very nice officer I’m following to the subway station.”

  “Recording?”

  “New York being a one-party consent state, I record my business calls, and I can’t possibly do business with someone who made me fear for my life. But I’m sure the implied threat was a misunderstanding…?”

  “…Yeah. It was a misunderstanding.”

  “Oh, good. I want to help you, Herc, I really do, but I prefer honey over vinegar. If you’ll forward me just a small token of your regret, I’m sure I can put this awkward misunderstanding behind us.”

  “What small token?”

  “Say…” Bella calculated. The instant she found herself operating above the law, one person came to mind. Her half sister, Starr, had contacts all over the security industry, and a wire transfer had to be something she could trace. “Five thousand dollars.”

  “Five thousand!”

  “I’m a highly paid executive, and I have a lot of medical bills. The five minutes you made me worry about my life is worth at least that much.”

  “What makes you think we have five thousand dollars?”

  “Did you really expect me to risk my life for free?”

  “But…I’m not authorized…”

  “How sad. Even my community college debate team had over five grand kicking around in our student activities account.”

  A long silence answered her demand.

  “Herc?” she prompted. “Are you listening?”

  The line was dead.

  Bella hung up and rotated the phone as her recording saved into the cloud.

  This domestic terrorist was inexperienced. She’d flipped on him so fast, he’d reeled.

  Bargain with the devil…

  The offices of MerMatch had a security leak.

  Bella would plug it.

  She was sick and tired of life’s blows. Jonah’s flat-lined status reports. Watching the mer warriors experience cruelty and violence on the news. Planning redemption campaigns for companies that had no intention of redeeming themselves.

  Ooh, she hoped the idiots would call back. What would she make them do?

  Transfer money to an investigation account. Incriminate themselves in a thousand traceable ways. Scramble when she rolled over the rock and exposed their wriggling, black souls to the court of public—and legal—opinions.

  She had no choice but to wait for Jonah’s match on the bone marrow registry. No real choice about her work clients. But unmasking the antisocial college students who’d perpetuated hate-filled acts of violence? Oh, she’d manipulate her busy schedule of schmoozing, lying, and grieving to fit that right in.

  Her phone rang. A new number.

  Oh, goodness.

  She took a deep breath, blew out her nervous excitement, and answered. “Are you ready to pay?”

  “Our funds are liquid, but I’m less convinced of your motivations.” The strange not-female, distorted voice tsked at her. “You’re energetic for a grieving mother, Bella Taylor.”

  Although the distortion was the same, the way of speaking sounded brusquer. Businesslike. She was dealing with an experienced negotiator.

  “My motivations are simple.” Bella grinned into the streetlight. “To be honest, I could really use the money.”

  “I trust no one who begins a sentence with ‘to be honest.’”

  “Who do you trust?”

  “Hmm.”

  “Skepticism is a strength in your profession, but so is risk-taking. You’d be a fool to ignore this opportunity.” She splayed her hand across her chest. “Herc, when it comes to opening up a box of trouble for the mermen, I’m your personal Pandora.”

  “Your face launched a thousand ships?”

  “Absolutely,” she said, although he was obviously confusing Pandora with Helen of Troy. A compliment, even if it was a mistaken one. “Now, tell me about the floral heist.”

  Chapter Three

  A week later, Balim received the most incredible news. “Bella has agreed to meet at the office building for your date tonight.”

  Dannika announced Balim’s future via speakerphone. He needed his hands free to wave in the delivery truck.

  “You already know what she looks like, but I’m sending you her picture.”

  He looked away from the backing-up delivery truck to glance at the photo.

  Silken red hair. Seductive curves. A plump, red mouth. Intricate freckles.

  It was her.

  His heart stuttered and stopped a second time. The band that always constrained him tightened to the breaking point. His hand jerked up.

  The delivery truck stopped with a hiss, and the engine died.

  Balim held the cell phone screen so close the picture blurred. “She agreed?”

  “Of course she did.” Dannika’s voice sounded tinny. “Bella’s a great friend to the mer. Besides designing our website, she was a regular visitor at MerMatch before you surfaced. She coached everyone for media appearances. Mostly, she coached Faier.”

  Just as Hazel had said. Faier had disappeared during a routine Coast Guard mission weeks ago. He had leaped into the ocean to rescue a female and been sucked into a storm.

  Again, surprise struck Balim. Faier had met her. Bella Taylor. And he had complained of never finding a bride?

  The driver opened the truck and wheeled a stack of boxes down a ramp. “Where do you wa
nt these?”

  “Over here.” Balim showed him the storage room.

  The driver shook loose the stack and returned to the truck for more.

  Balim opened the lid of the top box. Thick plastic covered the Sea Opals, but he could still hear tinkling chimes deep within.

  Van Cartier Cosmetics had purchased multiple Sea Opals to create skin-care products that made resonant users miraculously young. Then, they had tried to take more Sea Opals by force.

  Queen Aya had ended their reign of terror, dismantled the company, and retrieved their old scientific materials.

  He carried the box of Sea Opals into the room they’d repurposed into Mitch’s laboratory.

  Dannika prompted him. “Balim? Finish up and meet us at the office so we can prep for our date.”

  He found his voice. “I do not need to ‘prep.’”

  “We do. Hazel’s making a food run right now, and I need to secure the rooftop garden. After the attack on Pelan, we don’t want to take any chances.”

  Balim agreed to her request and ended the conversation.

  The delivery driver held out a pen and a clipboard. “That’s everything. Sign here.”

  Balim crossed an X on the paper. “You have eye strain. Would you like a cool washcloth?”

  “You got me. I stayed up for Ninja Mud Warriors.” He grinned and elbowed Balim. “You don’t have any of that miracle drink, do you?”

  The driver’s chest barely glowed.

  Balim shook his head. “Elixir will not help.”

  “Ah, well. Only ten more deliveries. I’ll grab a coffee when I gas up.” He carried away his clipboard and reentered his van.

  Some humans had dark souls because they were angry, sick, or dangerous.

  This driver was not angry, sick, or dangerous. He was a fine human who simply had no resonance with the sea.

  Balim closed the delivery door, passed by the conference rooms where he tried to explain this concept to visiting scientists every day, and again through the lab.

  Mitch pored over the old Sea Opal research.

  “Look at this.” He lifted a paper marked with human writing squiggles. “How to See Shiny Sea Opals by Best Friends and Cousins Elyssa and Aya. How cute.” He set the paper aside and reached back into the box. “Even as kids, they were doing great things for mermen.”

 

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