by P. Jameson
Remembering the way he stared made her stomach swirl with nervous anticipation. And the way he walked so close to her as they took the few blocks to the diner.
She might not know her own name, but she knew she liked the way this man looked at her. And loved the way he promised she wasn’t alone.
Alone.
It was exactly how she’d felt in her death-dream. Alone, far up in the sky, watching the world below her. And it was how she’d felt waking in the hospital.
He confessed he’d felt the same way before. She wanted to know his story. All of it. Maybe it would help her remember her own.
Mansen looked back at the booth, his hard gaze softening a touch. He was full of mysteries. So was she, but his were hidden. Things he didn’t want to share.
Hers were just forgotten.
He made his way back to her and the man he talked to left the diner and got behind the wheel of a shiny red truck.
“Who was that?” she asked as Mansen slid into the seat across from her.
“Huran.”
“A friend?”
“Not really.”
“An enemy then?”
“No.”
She raised an eyebrow.
“An acquaintance, I guess.”
“Oh?”
“We come from the same homeland.”
Homeland. It was such an odd way to describe your place of origin.
“Which is?”
“East. Across the sea.”
Doe frowned. He didn’t sound like he was from Europe.
“I uh… have been here most of my life.”
Oh. That explained it.
“What were you talking about?”
“Huh?”
“You and Huran?”
Mansen lifted his mug to his lips and took a swig of coffee before answering. “About you.”
“Me?”
Mansen nodded. “Whole town is talking about you, elska.”
Elska. Whatever it meant, he might as well have called her ‘gorgeous’ for how sexy that sounded coming from his lips.
She blushed. Cleared her throat. “I did notice people staring.”
“They’re curious. It isn’t everyday a stranger comes to town with no idea who she is or how she got here.”
“I bet. So Huran—”
“Is mated,” he snapped. “Happily.”
Doe raised her brows in shock. “Good for him. But I was just wondering if he’d heard anything useful.”
The waitress came with their pancakes, interrupting the awkwardness of the moment. She set a platter on the table in front of Mansen and then one in front of Doe before scooting off to get coffee refills.
And holy mama, were these some pancakes.
Doe stared down at the round cakey beasts that took up the entire plate and drooped over the sides. “How do you even put syrup on pancakes this size?”
Mansen seemed to enjoy her confusion if the twist of his lips was anything to go by.
“Fold ‘em,” he said. “Like this.”
Doe watched as he made his giant pancakes look like two flat tacos and then dumped copious amounts of syrup on top of them. She repeated the process with her own pancakes and then cut out a dainty bite to try.
“Naw, woman. You can’t do it like that.”
“What do you mean?”
“You have to get in there. Elbows deep, and get you a big hunk of it. It’ll take you all day to eat it like that.”
Doe tipped her chin up. “Didn’t know we were in a hurry.”
His eyes flashed with something that looked like worry, and she remembered what he’d said to Wilma about only being in town a few days. The idea of him leaving made her nervous.
“Eat, will ya,” he said softly.
Doe shrugged and cut off a bite bigger than her mouth. “Like this?”
Mansen nodded his approval and she lifted the fork to her lips for her first bite of Rita’s famous pancakes—
But as soon as she got the morsel in her mouth, she spit it back out, forgetting to even be polite about it. Taking her napkin, she scraped her tongue clean and downed as much of her water as she could in one swallow.
She found Mansen staring at her, baffled. “You don’t like it?”
“No. No, no, and no. God no.”
He sat back, chugging his coffee again, and eyeing her.
“Maple,” she explained. “There’s maple in there.”
“Yeah. Syrup.” His lips did that thing again, where they looked like they were trying not to smile.
“I don’t like it.”
“Then why’d you order pancakes?”
“Because I didn’t know I didn’t like it.”
He leaned forward across the table to stare into her eyes. Wow, his eyes though. They were the deepest shade of green. Like mountain trees mixed with ink. “Doe, did you hear what you just said?”
“Yeah. I said, I didn’t know I didn’t…” she let the sentence hang as she realized what he meant. “Maple. I don’t like maple. I remembered something!”
Mansen nodded, his expression growing excited. “By experiencing it.”
“Maybe that’s the key. Maybe I just need to try things, visit places around here, talk to people, go to the lake even, until things start to click again.”
“It could work,” he agreed.
She couldn’t help the feeling of victory coursing through her or the smile spreading her cheeks. It was the first glimmer of hope since being pulled from the lake, and it felt huge. For the first time, the crippling fear that she’d battled back since drowning, was nowhere to be found.
“You shouldn’t smile like that?” Mansen grumbled, digging back into his plate.
“Why not?”
“Because. It makes me want to come across this table and kiss it off your face.”
Oh. Wow.
She felt her jaw drop but there wasn’t time to respond to his blunt confession, because just then, Sheriff Holmes pushed through the diner entrance and headed their direction.
He looked tired and a little frazzled but he gave her a lopsided smile and pulled a chair up to their table.
“Sheriff.” Mansen nodded. “Any news?”
Sheriff Holmes blew out a hard breath and signaled the waitress for coffee. “Townsfolk are all abuzz with the mystery, but no one recognizes you, Doe. No one’s heard of you, no one saw you or noticed you before now.”
Her heart sank. “Nothing at all?”
“Nothing credible.”
“So there is something.”
Sheriff Holmes glanced nervously at Mansen. “Meh, the rumor mill running overtime is all.”
“What is it?”
“Just people with their silly superstitions about the lake. It’s nothing.” But something about the way the sheriff brushed it off had Doe wanting to dig deeper.
“What superstitions? Tell me.” She looked to Mansen for an answer.
He eyed the sheriff before finally answering. “Local legend says the lake is home to a serpent who guards the deep and its inhabitants.”
Inhabitants. Like… mermen?
No, that was crazy. She’d seen Mansen with a tail, yes, but she’d also seen it from high in the sky and had thought she was a star. It was lack of oxygen to her brain. Wasn’t real.
“What does this have to do with me?”
Sheriff Holmes shrugged. “Some are saying you’re a victim of the serpent and the lake spit you out to save you.”
Doe laughed. “What? That’s insane. Mansen pulled me out.” But neither the sheriff nor Mansen were laughing. “People don’t really believe this do they?”
“Some do,” the sheriff said. “You’ll find residents of Aurora Falls are very superstitious. Witches and curses and mysteries in the lake. Our little town has it all. But none of that is going to help us know who you are.” He stared hard at her. “Anything coming back to you at all? Even if it seems like nothing, it might help my investigation.”
Doe closed her eyes
, frustrated with her situation all over again. “Just that I harbor a strong dislike of maple flavored things.”
Blinking, she caught the sheriff’s arched eyebrow. “Maple syrup, huh.”
“Yeah. Makes me gag. Apparently.”
He frowned. “Not sure how that will help, but okay. It’s something at least.”
She ran her hand over her face, pushing back the urge to cry. Under the table, she felt Mansen’s leg press up against hers, and somehow, it helped a little.
“Hey, now,” Sheriff Holmes murmured uncomfortably. “Don’t you worry, hun. We’ll get to the bottom of this. Just give it some time, eh.”
Doe sighed. “Yeah. Okay.”
“Where are you staying? I want to be able to reach you if we get any leads.”
“With me,” Mansen spoke up. When she looked his way, he was staring hard at her. As if he hadn’t looked away in a while.
Sheriff Holmes cleared his throat, and Mansen dragged his gaze to the older man.
“Doe will stay with me, at the cabins.”
“Mansen offered to help me until I feel better.”
Sheriff shot him a questioning look, but Mansen’s expression remained stoic.
“Alright then… Sherry, can I get that coffee to go?” he called over his shoulder, standing and pushing his chair away before turning back to Doe. “I’ll let you know if anything turns up. And you get in contact with me if you remember anything else. Anything, ya hear?”
Doe nodded. But she couldn’t help feeling like she was missing something huge. Something about Aurora Falls that had drawn her here, to this very place. As if it was a refuge, but from what? Fear intertwined with the little shred of hope she’d captured minutes ago with Mansen, and she was desperate to keep that little piece from being swallowed up.
She stared out the window at the tiny tourist town with its charming streets and storefronts sloping down to the massive lake beyond. It was time to explore it. All of it. Until something triggered another memory.
She mentally added her hate of maple syrup to the list she was keeping.
Now it was time to add more to it.
Chapter 7
Mansen unlocked the door to the cabin he called home for three days every moon cycle. It was sparse, but it had everything he needed for his time on land. Mer who’d mated and lived normal lives now, kept the place up, so it was always clean when he came out of the lake.
He pushed the door open and stepped inside, holding it for Doe to pass under his arm before locking them in and flicking on the lights.
“This is your home?” she asked, looking around.
“Temporary one.”
Truth was he didn’t have a home. Not anymore. He had a cave underwater and he had this cabin. Neither of them was home. But maybe home wasn’t a place. Maybe it was a person. The one who gave you purpose and hope. Who you wanted to end and begin each day with.
“That’s right. You only stay in town for a few days.”
Doe set her bags on the small table and went to stand in front of the fire he’d asked Huran to start for them. She wrapped her arms around her middle, shivering from the chill or something else. She was tired, he could tell. They’d pushed too hard today, done too much. But she hadn’t wanted to stop until she remembered something new.
He’d given her the tour of Aurora Falls, starting at the town square where the artists drew caricatures for tourists, and a troubadour sang stories of the monster in the lake and the people it protected. From there, he’d taken her by Legends and Tails, the local bookstore, where she borrowed some books from the new owner, Xander. They’d hit the jewelry store where distinguished Rikard sold the stones and gems they mined from the lake. Stopped by Enchanted Brews for coffee, and had lunch lakeside with the tourists.
But none of it jogged any new memories for Doe. And when he noticed how weak she’d become and how her expression dimmed, he decided it was time to bring her home.
“Sit,” he told her, nodding to the couch. It was soft and comfortable, and the only spot in the small cabin to relax. Besides the bed. But he couldn’t take her there yet.
Doe sank into the sofa and he pulled out all the flannel and fleece throw-blankets he kept stored under the TV cabinet, piling them around her.
“Thank you,” she murmured.
“Sure, female.”
He stood back, watching her. Having her here, safe, gave him a sense of relief like nothing he’d ever felt.
What the hell was he supposed to do with her now that she was here? And how was he supposed to fix her?
He’d tried to ask Huran at the diner. The warrior was newly mated, having only lived on land for about a year. They weren’t close, but they’d lived in the same village many years ago. Except the only advice he’d been able to give Mansen was too simple to really mean anything.
Listen to her.
As if that would help him figure out her identity before he was sent back to the water. As if it could make her fall in love with him or prove to her that he was strong enough to be her warrior.
“Do you have hot chocolate?” Doe’s question pulled his attention back to her.
“I’ll check.”
In the kitchen, he rummaged through the cupboards until he found some good chocolate. He would make it like they did in the old land. Warm it in a pot with milk. His mother used to give it to him and his sister whenever they took ill. Maybe it would help his elska now.
When it was finished, he poured the warm drink in a mug and then frowned at the words on the side. Mermaid Material. Funny. Huran’s mate must have left it. She was the worst about perpetuating lake rumors. Odd, since she was one of the few who knew they were true. But Huran said his mate seeming crazy helped keep people from suspecting he was Mer.
Mansen smirked at the mug. Mermaid Material.
He sure as hell hoped Doe was mermaid material.
Walking back into the living room, he stopped short when he found her fast asleep under the blankets he’d given her. A soft snore puffed from her lips every other breath she took, and she was so relaxed all the worried lines in her brow were gone.
Beautiful elska.
He eased onto the couch, taking the hot chocolate with him, and keeping his distance. If he got too close, he’d be tempted to touch her. If he touched her, he’d wake her. If he woke her, he’d kiss her. If he kissed her... well, he wouldn’t want to stop there. And his mate wasn’t ready for the way he would love her. Hard and fast and brutal.
Then again, that was how he rutted in the old days before he knew love. Maybe with her he would like it slow and sensual.
His cock hardened to painful at the mere thought of having her beneath him.
Soon. Soon, they would know her secrets and then he would show her his. For now, he would be patient. If the lake had taught him anything, it was patience.
Another night watching pretty Doe sleep sounded good to him. It sounded like something he wanted to do for the rest of his life.
It sure beat sleeping with the fishes any day.
She was in the dark. Like pitch, no light. Not even stars. She was so cold. Wet.
And scared.
Fear was something she couldn’t escape. It wrapped its ugly tentacles around every part of her being.
And it was because of him.
Him. She knew his name, but she couldn’t remember it. She knew his face, but all she could see was his eyes. Dark and evil and dangerous. Seeking her, breaking her.
And he was everywhere. She couldn’t escape him no matter how she tried.
She’d changed her name more times than she could remember. She’d altered her hair color until she didn’t know her real one anymore. Glasses, colored contacts, makeup, details details, details. The details mattered so she kept a log. Tracked every move, every minute change in her routine, every place she’d stayed and how long.
But he always found her.
He was unstoppable. Unbeatable. And someday, he would kill her.
&nbs
p; Doe came awake on a scream of terror but she wasn’t in the dark now. Blinking, she found the orange glow of Mansen’s fireplace and focused on calming her breathing. But fearful sounds still slipped from her throat no matter how she tried to stop them. Dark eyes, cruel face, always haunting her. A man she couldn’t remember but knew was a monster. One she couldn’t escape, not even when she was awake.
Run. Run fast, don’t stop. Never stop. Run always.
It was just a dream. No, it was a memory. But she wasn’t alone anymore, not in the dark anymore. She had Mansen.
Where was he? Her magic-man. He was the only thing that made her feel safe, and she needed him. Now.
Swinging her head around, she finally found him… right next to her. Expression furious and protective. The way he’d looked in the clinic. The way he looked when he saved her from drowning. With a relieved cry, she launched herself at him, wrapping her arms around his neck and burying her face there.
She didn’t care that this was putting them in an awkward position. All she cared about was getting into his lap so he would hold her. Because whatever magic he used, he made the monster go away, the fear that chased her everywhere she ran. Mansen fought it back without even realizing it.
That’s why she’d chosen him over Wilma. It’s why she trusted him to keep her safe from something—or someone—she couldn’t remember.
Hesitantly, his arms came around her, one palm pressing up her spine until he reached her nape. “Elska,” he rumbled, “What is it?”
She didn’t care what he called her. It wasn’t like she knew how to correct him.
“I remembered something.”
“Tell me.”
Doe shuddered, recalling her dream. “I remember a man. A horrible man.” Mansen’s arms tightened around her and she burrowed closer to his strong chest. Wilma was right. Muscles helped. “I don’t know his name, but I know he terrifies me.”
She felt the tears rise again, falling from her lids to his shoulder.
“Shhh, female.” Mansen’s voice was gentle but she could feel the anger rolling off him. “He will never hurt you here. Not with me.”
