Fractured Fairy Tales: A SaSS Anthology

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Fractured Fairy Tales: A SaSS Anthology Page 55

by Amy Marie


  Anything to keep Caspian in the villagers’ good graces and hold suspicions at bay. He rather liked his place among the humans. His own little piece.

  And, in a matter of minutes, that piece he cherished so dearly had been breached by the very person he once fled. Never in all these years had he expected Aria to come back to land, and certainly not to ask for his return to the sea.

  She wasn’t asking for you to return, fool. She wants you to sacrifice yourself to Dima in exchange for her family.

  Damn him if that sense of responsibility didn’t niggle at his conscience.

  Smacking his hand down on the arm of the chair, he groaned. “You still have no clue, do you, princess?”

  He shoved up to his feet. Maybe he needed some female entertainment after all.

  Chapter 2

  “Five days. Five.”

  It had taken her two days to find Caspian. Ridiculous, when one considered the relatively small confines of the village and the castle that overlooked it.

  Aria hugged herself against the chilly night air. The cold that was nothing to the merfolk could be deadly to her more fragile human form. The drafty cloak couldn’t shield her from the ice that tangled around her spine, or the circle of heat that burned around her wrist. A physical reminder that her time ticked away.

  Being in the village of Alamari brought back dark memories. She had secretly hoped seeing Caspian would give her some small measure of hope in this dismal situation.

  Well, seeing Caspian definitely brought something—despair that she would fail in her mission and lose her family.

  “What a jerk,” she murmured.

  Handsome. Utterly handsome jerk.

  Ten years had been unfairly kind to Caspian, as had two apparently well-muscled legs and clothing. His jet-black hair in its carelessly mussed style. Those deep azure eyes. He’d always carried himself as strong and proud as the prince he denied he was, but there was something about the way his presence filled that human office that made her skin tingle and her blood heat. His legs filled his pants perfectly. She couldn’t help herself when she stole a glimpse of the tease of scale-free skin beneath the open V of his button-down shirt. He’d grown into himself, and into a human body beyond what she would have imagined.

  It wasn’t any wonder human women fawned after her prince.

  Aria came up short. Pedestrians bumped into her arms as they sidled by to go about their business, their faces pinched with disgust.

  Her heart sank.

  He’s not mine. He never was.

  And he made his total disdain for her clear with his chides, jabs and painful stares. Words and actions she’d never imagined he’d direct at her.

  “I deserve it.”

  “Hey, will you move out of the way?” a man barked. He shoved into her shoulder, knocking her off balance and sending her stumbling into the side of a building. A couple scowled as they passed her, keeping their distance as though she carried a disease.

  Gods, she’d forgotten how cruel this world could be, especially to the less fortunate. How dangerous.

  Lifting her head, she caught the glow of the castle on a distant cliff, gaslight lanterns flickering in the ocean breeze. Dread poured into her chest and weighed down her legs. She’d escaped the prison that elegant facade hid behind stone walls and stained glass windows. So much beauty in this village, until the sun went down, exposing a vile underbelly.

  Aria turned into an alley before another wave of pedestrians could sweep her aside. She hesitated, eyeing the questionable characters that loomed in shadowed doorsteps or huddled in clumps around crackling fires that sent up sparks from metal barrels.

  Slowly, Aria wove her way down the alley, passing its occupants without making eye contact. Women, men, children. Scraps and rags for clothes. Smudges of dirt on faces and matted hair beneath threadbare scarves and hats. Rats scuttled about, snatching up crumbs left by hard rolls and old meat some of the lucky homeless found to nibble on. Her stomach rumbled, reminding her she had yet to eat more than a few slices of rancid meat since washing up on shore. She’d forgotten how fragile the human body was compared to that of merfolk. Two days of no food was too long, and if the expression she’d caught on his face during her brief encounter with Caspian told her anything, it was that she was far from presentable.

  Once, he had a twinkle in his eye when I was near.

  She’d squandered their bond.

  She’d been so preoccupied with learning about Caspian’s life in Alamari that she’d forgotten to be wary of the dangers returning to this seaside village presented. Her face was known to many, although it was far from the glamorous sight it had been when the horrid prince—now king—courted her. She’d seen a few random signs, encouraging the hunting and maiming of merfolk to keep the village safe from savages.

  Savages.

  Like her people cared to come ashore and wreak havoc on the humans.

  As she passed one of the warm barrel fires, a bone-rattling shudder swept through her. Her teeth clattered and she sought the heat at a barrel with only a few strangers gathered around it. Wiggling her fingers at the fire, the first hint of a grin tugged at her lips. She’d been hiding since crawling onto the sandy beach, naked and cold. She’d dug the cloak out of the trash and washed it as best she could in the sea. She had nothing else, besides a scavenged pair of slippers with holes in the toes and soles. A cloak and slippers, and a ticking time bomb pulsing around her wrist.

  The bracelet glinted in the firelight as the sleeve of her cloak slipped back. She immediately lowered her hands, shaking the cloak back into place, but it was too late. A pair of unsavory men emerged from the shadows like tarry figures, slinking through clueless folk. Trying to keep her welling panic under control, Aria tugged the felt cloak tightly around her, turned, and headed toward the street.

  “Aw, no, precious thing. You ain’t going away that fast.”

  Strong hands came down on her shoulders, stopping her escape. She tried to shrug the man off, but another snatched her arm and shoved the cloak sleeve back, revealing the cursed bracelet.

  “Lookie here, Gavon. How much do you think that’ll get us?”

  Aria yanked her arm, but the man’s hold was too tight. The malnourished and weakened state of this human body provided no hope of a positive ending. Not when the man gazing at the bracelet like he’d found a treasure chest of gold twisted her hand in search of the clasp that would free the priceless object. Sadly, it was a cursed bracelet. No clasp. They’d have to cut off her hand to get it. She doubted that would stop them.

  “A hot meal and a warm woman,” the man holding her shoulders said, then snickered. “I’d take this one, but she’s cold, even through the cloak.” A sharp sniff alongside her hood made her cringe. “And in need of a bath. Precious, would you take that off your little wrist? It really doesn’t belong there.”

  Aria tried to twist free again, but the men’s holds only strengthened. Other outcasts in the alley had stepped away to watch the display from a safe distance. She knew from her last jaunt in Alamari that those less fortunate souls kept their heads down in situations like this. Self-preservation, or some such nonsense. Humans didn’t lend aid if it might cause them harm, too, even if they had nothing to lose.

  “She don’t speak English, huh?” the wrist-holder taunted, lifting malice-filled eyes to the shadow that hid her face beneath the hood. His lips stretched in a brutal smile with missing or rotted teeth. Sores dotted his lips and oozing wounds pocked his cheeks. “Girl, you don’t take it off, we’ll take it off for you.” He pulled out a stained blade and held it up for her to see. “However we have to get it off.”

  Aria hissed, twisting violently beneath the hands clamped down on her shoulders. She managed to free herself, but the ghastly man with the knife dug his fingers into her wrist and jerked her closer.

  “Let go!” she shrieked, pulling at her arm while dancing around, trying to keep out of the other man’s grip. He came up behind her again, snagged h
er about the waist, and lifted her off her feet. “Stop! Put me down!”

  “Sure. Just one moment.” The knife wielder gave her his back as he tucked her arm under his own, trapping it against his body. She kicked at his legs and hips, prepared to scream in agony when the rusted metal blade touched her forearm.

  “Pardon my interruption, gentlemen, but I do believe such atrocious actions are punishable by death, should the king hear of them. He prefers to reserve such pleasures for himself.”

  Aria gasped at the sound of the familiar voice, jerking her head around.

  The arms holding her waist disappeared, as did the knife from her skin.

  Caspian caught her beneath her arms, keeping her from a less than elegant fall on her ass. His easy smile hid the glint of anger in his expression from anyone who didn’t know what to look for. He settled her on her feet and swung a black walking stick with an intricately carved silver pommel with seeming negligence.

  The two men backed away slowly, the knife-wielder having dropped the blade. The onlookers sunk deeper into the shadows of the alley, clearly hoping to escape Caspian’s sharp gaze.

  “Gentlemen, I hope this was a mere misunderstanding on my part,” he told the receding men.

  The brute who had picked Aria up nodded furiously, but didn’t speak.

  “Y-yes, s-sir. All a mis-mis-mis…” the knife-wielder stuttered.

  Caspian inclined his head, prompting, “Misunderstanding?”

  The man muttered a squeak, followed by a quick nod.

  Caspian glanced down at Aria. “These two men weren’t about to cut off your hand, were they?”

  She blinked. How much had he seen? And how on this blasted Earth had he known where to find her?

  His eyes narrowed so slightly she wasn’t certain she caught the gesture.

  A loud tap resounded from the buildings that lined the alley as he knocked the tip of his walking stick against the ground. Slowly, he tilted his head back to eye the men.

  She followed his gaze and suppressed the urge to slap a hand over her mouth when a stream of alley rats scurried from the shadows and crevices to swarm over her assailants’ legs. They screeched and shrieked, flinging themselves backwards.

  One slammed into a barrel, knocking the fire-filled canister over. A lick of flame caught the edge of his tattered shirt and quickly engulfed his body until he was a howling, writhing heap. The second man bolted down the alley, but only made it a few feet before the rats tripped him, and he pitched forward. The rodents covered him.

  “Hmm.” Caspian shrugged. He pressed a hand to Aria’s back and guided her around the fallen men, away from the sight that elicited shocked gasps and screams from onlookers and the men alike. “Due justice.”

  Aria waited until they were moving through the throngs of pedestrians before she stopped. Caspian cast her a chiding glance and continued on his way without waiting.

  “What did you do?” she demanded, earning quirked brows from a few passersby. With a huff, she hurried to catch up with him, grabbing his arm. “How did you know I was there?”

  “Don’t flatter yourself.” He flashed her a grin. “I was on my way to find some pleasurable entertainment when I heard what I believed to be a damsel’s cry of need.”

  She threw a hand towards the alley. “I don’t see anyone helping those men in distress, and their howls are far more terrorized than mine.”

  “Well”—Caspian angled the orb of his stick over his shoulder—“you can always return, if my interference was not welcome.” He paused long enough to tap a yellowed sign pinned to the outside wall of a shop. She didn’t need a closer look to know it was a reward post for merfolk. They remained scattered throughout the town, a decade after the king’s mer-hunt began. “Still a hot commodity around these parts, though rumor has it they’ve become awfully scarce to the point people believe most have been killed off.”

  The dark curl of his lips was crafted perfectly to match the malice exuded by the villagers, but the shadows that filled his eyes when he cut his gaze to hers were anything but malicious. If she dared to believe this new Caspian might actually care, she’d suspect pity edged his smile.

  “Where have you been staying the last two days?” he asked, breaking the strange silence between them. She’d barely realized her heart hammered in her chest, completely mesmerized by his smoldering expression and acute focus. The shift from jokester to interrogator threw her off her guard.

  “Um.” She cleared the knot from her throat and whirled her hand around, unable to hold his probing gaze. “I, um, have been keeping to the alleys. Trying to keep my head down.”

  “And essentially starving to death.” His eyes could have burned straight through the cloak and her skin to the core of her body. He let out a sharp sigh. “Come. You’ll soon get yourself killed on these streets. They weren’t pretty ten years ago, and have only worsened. Scoundrels and thieves scour these parts like sharks, and a woman alone and weak is a target for any hungry monster.”

  She bristled at the cut. “I am not weak.”

  Caspian stilled her hand when she moved to throw off her hood. He clicked his tongue in warning, his gaze shifting to a group of men as they walked by. The men tipped their heads in silent acknowledgement, and Caspian returned the gesture, following them with his eyes until they were almost a block away.

  His expression hardened and his eyes bored into hers. “You are far from appearances, princess. If you catch my drift. Do not draw attention to yourself. Now, since I dare not leave you on the streets, I invite you to my home. You can have a hearty meal and a warm bed, fresh clothes, anything you so wish.”

  Aria fell into those azure eyes, the flicker of deep sea and the inhuman stretch of his pupils before they rounded out again. A whisper of the old Caspian, the merman who had been her closest friend. Her confidant. Something fluttered in her belly as his grip loosened from her forearm and his bare fingers brushed across her knuckles. A familiar tingle slid over her skin, one he always seemed to ignite.

  One she never paid heed to. Until now.

  “Or you can argue with me and run away, forcing me to leave you to your personal doings.”

  She glanced down at their fingers, his thumb tracing her palm while he held her hand with surprising tenderness. She nodded, nostalgia sweeping over her and cinching something inside her. The burn, similar to when she was forced into this human form underwater, spread from the center of her chest…

  “Breathe,” Caspian whispered.

  Aria gulped in a lungful of air, the world spinning. Gods, this was not how she planned to deal with her current situation.

  “Okay,” she whispered back.

  His lips quirked in a quick half-grin before he straightened to his full height, a head taller than she. The air around her instantly warmed and a sense of security folded over her shoulders. How much of that sensation was magic? One of the many secrets he confided to her all those years ago. His magic was something altogether rare and powerful, might even rival her mother’s.

  She blinked and tilted her head, clarity cutting through the mist of her mind. “Did you kill those men?”

  His lips widened into a smile and his brows lifted. “Oh, princess. Not proper conversation for a lady, or the streets. I imagined you smarter than finding it necessary to question the situation and my motives. Should I set up camp here for the evening or shall we continue?”

  Aria grumbled to herself, finding this version of Caspian both irritating and rather appealing. “Lead the way, good sir.”

  He chuckled, a throaty, delightful sound that skittered down her spine and left her knees weak. He offered his arm, which she accepted, and they started the climb up the hilly road to the castle. The closer they drew to the horror-filled hallways and deceptively welcoming ornaments that comprised the gorgeous building, the more her anxiety swelled.

  “I hope I’m not impeding your entertainment tonight,” Aria said, trying to quell the tightening in her chest. Not that Caspian’s cho
ice of entertainment was a topic she cared to discuss. Ironically. “I find it difficult to believe you seek entertainment of the female kind when you could easily settle down with a woman and not pay for pleasure.”

  He playfully tapped the walking stick’s ornament against her knuckles. “We have not seen each other for the better part of ten years and you wish to discuss my choice of sexual pleasure? Still shameless and unfiltered, I see.”

  “Still flamboyant and a showoff, I see.” After a short laugh, she sobered. “Ten years of paying for a woman, Casp. That’s a lot of coin.”

  “Casting coins at nothing is far better than pursuing pleasure where it is unwanted. Promises and wishes and happily-ever-afters. You are particularly versed in how well those turn out.”

  The castle loomed as they approached the outer wall, a mixture of torches and electrical lighting casting eerie shadows on the battlements. The king’s crested flags hung from each turret, a vile reminder of the pain her poor choices had caused her. She cast a hidden glance up at Caspian.

  The pain her poor choices caused others.

  As she opened her mouth to question their direction, Caspian steered her down a narrow alleyway, between nicely kept doorsteps and flower boxes. They walked in silence, her thoughts roiling, the tension growing in the muscles of his arm. She weighed the benefits and risks of voicing the questions she wanted to speak, or keeping quiet. After all, she’d come in search of Caspian at the whim of the sea witch to save her family.

  She inched closer to the man leading her from one nightmare and probably straight into a new one.

  Here in Alamari, the beasts so rarely looked like what they truly were.

  Chapter 3

  Nothing could have prepared her for the simple beauty that was Caspian’s human-realm home. Simple in the earthy brick cutter wall of a single-story home, the east side coated with creeping jasmine blooms and the west trimmed with saw grass. A simple wooden door opened into an indistinct room, furnished with a sofa, dining table, and some other odds and ends.

 

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