Salt & Venom (Blood, Bloom, & Water Book 2)

by Amy McNulty

  “Got it,” I said, saluting her as we pulled up to the end of the block. Mom knew to drop me off far away, unlike Dad when he’d still dropped me off up until a few weeks ago.

  Had it really only been that long since he’d gotten married, since my life had gone from dull to insane? I didn’t want to think about it.

  “Love you,” said Mom, putting the car in park and leaning over to kiss my cheek. She had her brown store apron on already. No doubt she was running late. “Call me if you need to talk.” The way she said it, it was like she knew I was in for trouble when I finally sat down with Dad.

  “Okay,” I muttered, in no mood to be a good daughter. Slamming the rust-edged tan door of her sedan behind me, I shifted my tote bag’s straps up my arm and pumped my legs to carry me down the block. The bag was missing a few books since Mom had had me bring them to Dad’s on Saturday before Homecoming, thinking I’d be headed to his place afterward. But that was just less to lug around anyway.

  Once I was sure Mom’s sedan had made a U-turn and headed away, I veered right, walking straight to Lyric’s car in the parking lot.

  They were both already waiting there, Paisley’s arms wrapped around her baseball team captain boyfriend, Grey.

  “Hey,” said Grey, nodding at me. I looked around. Half the baseball team—though Devam was pointedly missing—was lingering around Lyric’s car. My eyes went wide.

  “Oh, don’t have a conniption,” said Lyric, pressing her key fob and unlocking the front door. “We told them it was a girls’ day out.”

  Yeah, but maybe it would have been an easier secret to keep had we not informed our whole usual clique about the suspension-level offense we were perpetrating here. But who was I kidding? Paisley couldn’t keep anything from Grey if her life depended on it. “’Kay,” I said glumly, sliding into her backseat.

  Ashton and Charlie let out an “ooo” sound as I slammed the door shut behind me, giggling like they were witnessing the class valedictorian breaking the rules for the first time. Oh, please. They knew me better than that.

  Paisley and Grey exchanged a kiss that turned into three or five and I let out an impatient growl. Finally, Paisley disentangled herself and headed for the passenger side door. I clicked my seatbelt in like it was a dagger I was stabbing into the plush of the seat.

  “Someone’s a bit testy today,” said Lyric, looking over her shoulder at me. Like she didn’t usually get annoyed by Paisley-and-Grey, the two-creatures-in-one they became when they tangled themselves together. “Still feeling sick after Saturday?”

  “Yeah,” I said, happy for a vague enough question I didn’t have to lie about for once.

  Paisley shut the door behind her and strapped herself in.

  “Where to, Miss Hooky?” asked Lyric, turning around and adjusting the rearview mirror.

  “The lake at the park,” I said, digging my phone out of my bag and swiping at its screen. He’d been too chicken to come near Union High to pick me up, of course. Well, if he didn’t want witnesses, that would just have to mean no fishy business so long as I had friends along.

  “The lake?” asked Lyric quizzically.

  “Pond,” I spat, the exchange digging deep into my sense of annoyance just then. Ember and I had argued about the same thing.

  “Oh… kay,” answered Lyric, then we were off.

  Paisley kept talking all the way there, Lyric’s replies just enough to keep the conversation going, allowing me to drift off and stare out the car window, letting my mind go blissfully blank.

  “Oh. Oooohhhh,” said Paisley as we pulled into the little gravel parking area for the park. “Now it makes sense. I guess.” Paisley shifted to look over her shoulder at me. “So best we can tell is you ditched your date for Calder before things got crazy on Saturday, right?”

  “Right,” I said, unclicking my seatbelt as Lyric put the car in park and shut the engine off. The place was truly empty on a weekday morning. The only other vehicle in the lot was Calder’s old blue pickup truck and he was sitting on the picnic table nearest the lake, playing with his phone and frowning.

  “Let me guess,” said Lyric, fluffing her hair in the mirror and dropping her key fob into her purse. “Parents weren’t thrilled with the whole found-half-naked thing and wouldn’t let you see him again, prompting you both to ditch school for your next chance at a tryst.”

  “Something like that,” I said, climbing out. Lyric and Paisley followed suit, and I bit my lip as I looked between the lake and my friends. “So now you know. If you guys want to leave, I don’t mind…”

  Lyric arched an eyebrow. “So much for girls’ day out?”

  “Yeah,” said Paisley. “Grey would have totally skipped with me. Though he didn’t want to miss gym.”

  Of course he didn’t. “Did they get the gym cleaned up after…?”

  “Still working on it,” said Paisley. “So they were going to have a free day outside. The guys were going to get some practice swings in.”

  Jocks. So predictable.

  “Hey, who’re they?” said Lyric, her face lighting up as she stared over my shoulder.

  A fairly buff young guy with light brown skin and wavy brown hair was walking toward Calder with a tiny, pale white redheaded girl a few steps behind him, her thick hair practically sparkling as she flicked it over her shoulder.

  They were both in jeans and plain T-shirts and their hair looked wet. Like freshly, sopping wet.

  Merfolk. I didn’t particularly remember these two from my day under the lake, but there had been a lot of faces to take in that day—a lot of things to wrap my head around.

  “They’re probably with each other,” said Paisley, bumping her hip against Lyric’s thigh.

  “And I’m with Rae,” said Lyric. “Stop harshing my window shopping, Pais,” she added, grinning. “Never hurts to look.”

  Raelynn might have begged to differ, but… “Can you stay?” I asked. The thought of facing Calder with two new merpeople and no one there to stop them from doing their fish-tail party trick was suddenly terrifying to me.

  Paisley shrugged and Lyric grinned, striding forward toward the other teens.

  “He is awfully cute,” muttered Paisley as she passed by me.

  I took a look at the new guy. He was. Though Calder was maybe one iota cuter. My cheeks burned as the thought crossed my mind.

  Calder’s head swiveled toward me and his face lit up, his arm shooting over his head as he waved at us. “You made it!” he said as I awkwardly stepped into place beside Lyric and Paisley in front of the picnic table. It was just then that I realized Calder’s Union High letter jacket had been replaced with a letter jacket in purple and gold—Central High.

  “You joined the swim team fast,” I blurted out, like that was what we needed to focus on just then.

  “I had connections,” he said, bumping his fist against the new guy’s.

  Lyric brushed her hair behind her ear and extended a hand out to the redhead. “I’m Lyric,” she said.

  The redhead looked to Calder with an eyebrow raised, almost as if asking permission. He nodded. “Laguna,” she said.

  Lyric grinned, her eyes shining. “Nice. Sexy. Aquatic. Like a mermaid.”

  Ha ha ha ha. If only she knew.

  Laguna’s pale face flooded with bright red color and she took a step back, her long hair falling over one eye, almost like she was retreating beneath its thick curls.

  Calder rushed to step between them. “We all have creative parents.” He nodded toward the guy with him. “This is Bay.”

  “Paisley,” said my other friend, flicking a hand up in a sort of half-greeting.

  “And you’re Ivy,” said Bay, his grin showing off some pearly white teeth. This guy just oozed mythical merman. Even more than Calder.

  Calder jumped down off the picnic table and wrapped an arm around my back, settling his strong, sturdy hand on my side. I jumped but quickly fell into the half-embrace, dropping my tote to the ground and fidgeting with my hands
in front of my pelvis as I let the small crowd around me take in the spectacle of me being all mushy with a boyfriend. Well, low-key mushy, but mushy for me.

  “Do you guys mind if we have a minute?” Calder asked Lyric and Paisley, the gleam in his eye so at odds with the panic that marred his face anytime the bloodsuckers were around. “Thanks for bringing her, by the way. And ditching.”

  “Sure…” said Lyric, crossing her arms. “So I take it you’re all from Central?” she asked Bay and Laguna. Laguna took another step back until she caught Calder’s eye and sighed, putting one stiff arm in front of a stiff leg and walking away.

  Bay fell in beside her, skillfully ushering my friends toward the sandy beach. “Yup,” he said. “We always wished Calder had been with us, too. We grew up together…” His voice went quieter as the group descended the slight incline and made their way to the beach.

  Paisley checked over her shoulder once and I did my best to smile, knowing that in most situations, I ran the risk of looking like a deranged clown when I tried too hard, but it apparently was passable enough because she turned back to the group and jogged a few steps to catch up to them. Laguna broke off slightly from the others, crouching in the sand and digging to unearth something that gleamed in the sunlight when she held it up.

  “Glass,” Calder said. “Glass thrown into the lakes and the rivers, worn down over years… It can be pretty, actually, even if it’s a reminder of humankind’s polluting ways.” He tugged on me, so I turned to face him and he pressed his lips to the top of my temple.

  My heart beat so fast. I thought I was better than that. Better than the typical teen who thought with parts other than their brain.

  “Are you okay?” he asked.

  How many times was I going to be asked that question? And would I ever be able to answer in the affirmative without lying again?

  “No,” I said. My voice was quiet, hoarse.

  “You’re not alone in this,” said Calder. “Mom wants to meet with you—”

  “Just give me a second to process all this first.” I held my hands to either side of my head, as if to emphasize that my brain was about to explode. Then I cleared my throat, letting my voice grow stronger. “All right?”

  “Okay,” said Calder quietly. His one word was quiet, accepting, not demanding I change my mind. “Bay and Laguna are—”

  “Merfolk,” I said, finishing for him.

  “That obvious?” Calder grinned.

  “Wet hair aside, do you even have any friends who aren’t merfolk?”

  “Touché,” he replied. He stepped back and took my hand in his, prompting me to follow him in an ambling stroll through the grass, away from the beach and our friends. We didn’t say anything for a while and I shivered despite having a coat on.

  “Here,” said Calder, letting go of my hand to take off his coat.

  “This seems familiar,” I said, clutching the soft material of the jacket as he slipped it over my shoulders like a cape.

  “If I recall, you were very adamant about not letting me give you my jacket last time we tried this.”

  “Touché,” I spat back at him. Around me, the quiet lake surrounded on three sides by a wide expanse of brightly-colored trees took my breath away for a moment, the oranges, reds, and yellows clashing with the murky green of the water below the tree trunks. A little peal of laughter caught my attention as Lyric chased Paisley along the beach, dragging Laguna by the arm, clearly against her will, to follow suit. Bay laughed and then kicked up his legs, overtaking all of the girls to touch a tree trunk at the beach’s edge. They’d been racing.

  “Aren’t you cold?” I asked, taking in the merfolks’ T-shirts and feeling the quiet, chilly breeze.

  “We tolerate the cold better than most,” said Calder. “It’s not exactly tropical down there.” He nudged his chin toward the lake.

  “If I were a Midwest mermaid, the first thing on my to-do list would be to move to tropical waters.”

  “Well, you are now. Is that what you want to do? Head for someplace perpetually sunny?” Calder grabbed hold of a light post and swung himself around it, right out of a scene from Singin’ in the Rain. I shuddered when the dated reference made me think quickly of Dean Horne, enemy vampire, and his out-of-time cohorts.

  “I don’t know.” I shrugged. “I hadn’t gotten my post-high-school plans gelled yet before… Before…” I gestured at my legs, like that would explain it all.

  Calder stood straight, the smile falling off his face. “Well, I can understand that,” he said softly. “Not making plans. Not knowing what the future will bring, not really.”

  “You made no plans?” I asked. “What if… What if I’d never moved into that house? Never become the champion? What then?”

  He didn’t answer.

  “Well, there’s one thing,” I said, only half-teasing. “Your mother made it clear I’m supposed to make merbabies with you or something.”

  He shook his head. “That’s the idea behind choosing a champion—choosing the girl you want to be with.” He cleared his throat as I felt myself go unnaturally still. “But once this is all over, you’re free. From me. From my family. I don’t care what she says. There won’t be a need to have another merprince if it’s over once and for all.”

  I appreciated him not making a big deal about us being together, not making it seem like some grand, destined thing. But I thought about that. About his people needing a prince. A lot had come together to have two champions in that house at the same time. “What if you’d been a merprincess instead?” I asked. “Or what if your mother had been the heir in the time of champions?”

  Calder’s forehead wrinkled as he took his time answering. “Then the champion would have been a guy, I suppose. Or a girl or a person of any other gender if that was what she preferred.”

  I thought about that. It didn’t seem right that Dean had been an heir for decades while the merfolk had cycled through several. “Then if Ember had had a brother…” Actually, I was pretty sure Dad had said she did have a brother. An older one, not from Noelle.

  He shrugged and went back to leaning away from the pole. “There have never been two young people of the right age in that house at once until you.”

  “I still don’t get why you or the vampires couldn’t have just moved people into that house if it’s so important. Like explain what’s up and pay the families of the lucky chosen champions to step into those roles willingly.”

  He chuckled. “You really think people would have responded to that ad? ‘Looking for two teens to fight on behalf of creatures from fairy tales. By the way, there might be casualties’?” He shook his head as I tensed at that last word. “In any case, the faefolk didn’t think that level of pre-planning would be fair.”

  Acid coated the back of my throat. Like impatient Orin cared about fairness.

  “Hey,” said Calder, stopping his little dance and standing up straight. His hands slipped over the thick material of the coat I’d borrowed and cradled my elbows. “You’re not alone in this, okay? And you don’t have to focus on the parts that don’t concern you. I’ve got you.”

  It felt weird that he had to keep telling me this over and over. Was I that easy to read? I chewed on my bottom lip.

  “I have something else I have to ask of you,” he said. His gaze drifted over my head to the group now kicking sand at one another on the beach—well, minus Laguna, who had gone back to digging holes in the ground. “And I’m not sure you’re going to like it.”

  Time seemed to slow down then, my instinct telling me to run away, to go where none of these supernatural creatures could ever find me. “I’m listening,” I said, my voice cracking.

  “I need you to transfer to Central High with me,” he said, nodding his head just slightly. “And you’re not going to be crazy about my idea for how you can convince your parents to let you.”

  So many awful ways to decipher what he meant shot through my mind. But once he’d told me, I could honestly say I
really hadn’t expected that.

  Chapter Three

  Our day playing hooky had led the lot of us to the town’s sole used bookstore, the gravel in its parking lot kicking up dust and making it seem even more like the last bastion in the middle of nowhere. True, there was the diner down the road, but that was it for miles that bled into endless, endless farm fields and stretches of shoulder-high grass. I wondered if the truckers stuck going along this stretch went mad at the unchanging scenery.

  I was battling an anxiety attack just pulling up to The Hollow Tree.

  “It’s a weekday,” I said. “And a morning. You really think he’d open the store?”

  Calder shut off his truck’s ignition. “You’d rather look for him in your dad’s backyard?”

  “No thanks.” Though the house was likely to be empty this time of day, so maybe that wouldn’t have been such a bad thing. But there was the more important issue, anyway. I didn’t want to find this faery. “Orin’s not going to help us.”

  “He will if we convince him it’ll aid in the war.” Calder opened his door, as if that were the end of it, just as Lyric pulled her car into the lot with a bouncing Paisley in her front seat and a grinning Bay in the back—he seemed to be belting out a song. Whatever it was, it went quiet as Lyric turned off her car.

  Laguna shifted beside me to slide out after Calder. I jumped. Even pressed up against her shoulder, I’d almost forgotten she’d been there between us. She’d picked Calder’s truck over Lyric’s car without hesitation, even though there wasn’t a seatbelt for a second passenger, when Calder had announced our plan to go get my “last paycheck.” Or first for that matter. My employment hadn’t lasted long.

  I was also looking at this visit—after Calder had twisted my arm to get me to agree to it—as a chance to slug the faery who’d pretended to be my friend. But I hadn’t said that part aloud.

  Sighing, I opened my door and jumped out, my sneakers kicking up more dust in the gravel. The Hollow Tree’s gnarled wood sign was swinging in the breeze above the hood of the truck, the creak of the hinges as foreboding as the bumps in the night in the spookiest of haunted houses.