The Kiss That Saved Me (The Tidal Kiss Trilogy Book 2) (9 page)

“Please rise,” I hear her command and so I get to my feet. In her hands she holds an orb and a sceptre. The objects are new to me, I have never seen them before but they call to me, dying to be held in my hands. The orb is a giant moon-like white pearl, surrounded in a spherical cage of platinum and diamonds. The sceptre is platinum too, with hundreds of pearls spiralling around its length. Orion lets go of my hand, letting my silken clad fingers fall through his and takes the objects in his palms, clutching them clumsily. I watch him stumble and something within me sighs, wondering what they would feel like in my palms. I shake my head subtly, trying to disband the thought. I am not power hungry. Shaniqua nods and we turn to face the crowd.

“Repeat after me, Orion,” she whispers, breathless and husky behind us. I wonder if she’s tearing up. “I, Orion, the Hunter.”

“I, Orion, the Hunter,” Orion repeats and I wonder about the title. Since when had he been a hunter?

“Solemnly vow to uphold the values and protection of the people of this world and any other whom may look to those blessed by the Goddess for help. To place those needs of my people before those of myself and to understand that my life and death belong to the service and wellbeing of my Goddess and her mission on earth.” I look over at Orion after hearing the part about death. I wonder if he’s thinking about me. I place my gloved hands on top of my skirt and look down. In the crowd I spot Sophia’s eyes, finally, watching me widely. In front of her is the silver haired man I had seen on my entrance. His eyes are burning an intense lilac and he’s staring at me like he’s fighting internally about something. His cheek bones are prominent as his mouth twists and he sucks in air. His left eyebrow sports a slash on the outer side and I wonder why I haven’t seen him before. Surely I would remember such a face. Orion has finished repeating his vow and I stand, a spare part to the Crowned Ruler, but not spared the scrutiny of his people. We both have been walked through this ceremony a hundred times before in the small council meetings so I know what comes next.

We turn in unison and take our seats in the two silver thrones in the centre of the stage. The throne isn’t as comfortable as you’d expect, it’s hard and cold, requiring me to sit up at an acute angle, pushing my spine straight. Shaniqua comes forward with something ornate between her long elegant fingers. My tiara. It’s small and threaded with shells, diamonds, and pearls intricately. She bows slightly and nestles it between the curls that were so lovingly placed, diamonds clinging to them, into a braid which pulls them to the base of my neck where they fall down over my shoulders and back. Shaniqua rises and smiles at me, a knowing look of something sentimental flashing behind the limes of her irises. I smile back at her and look over to Orion. His eyes ground me, making me appreciate how far I’ve come. From just an American teen struggling to pass chemistry, I’m now being crowned Queen over an aquatic city of merfolk. Not bad for less than six months when you think about it. Orion is crowned, the platinum crown of faux seaweed metal curling through his tousles, interrupting their steady wildness. Shaniqua bows to us as Orion holds the orb and sceptre in both hands and sits, head back against the substantial height of his throne, legs crossed in cocky reserve. I slant my lips in disapproval but then look at him, really look at him, before realising he has relaxed. I relax slightly too as Shaniqua turns.

“I present to you, blessed ones, his Highness, King Orion the Hunter, and his other half, Queen Callie, the vessel.” Shaniqua practically sings these words and we rise together to our titles, to our obligations. Orion still holding his symbols of power and me folding my hands daintily in my skirt. The room bows before us, a tidal wave of humble abandon. Holy crap. They’re bowing to me? I watch the man with silvery grey hair stumble as he moves to bow later than everyone else. Someone hadn’t taught him the protocol, clearly. He must have been sick the day they taught Coronation 101 at merfolk etiquette school. We stand, becoming what we supposedly are, becoming the rumours on the wind, becoming the myths of ancient times gone past. We watch, surveying the humbled crowd as a large crash breaks the eerie, respectful silence. A hundred well-groomed heads turn in alarm and I feel my heart quicken. Azure stands in the doorway, wrapped from head to toe in a black silken ball gown that is speckled with rubies the colour of blood. She is revealed, hair whipped back from her face in an elegant knot, eyes an old and familiar icy blue, with skin the colour of bone.

“Sorry I’m late,” she breathes.

AZURE

Everyone is staring. I wish they’d stop. Or maybe I should make them stop. They’re standing looking at me like I’m the crypt keeper. I glide forward, transcending their disapproving and shocked stares. My black heels click against the floor in monochromatic rhythm, like a funeral march. I walk down the aisle, watching fear rise in each of the individuals that line it. They should be scared of me. I’m scared of me. I watch them shift their eyes tentatively as they rise from their humbled state on bended knee. Pathetic. I bow to nobody. I see Star in the crowd, dressed in blue. Well, at least it’s not pink, she’s worn the colour to death and it really doesn’t suit her. Now black, there’s a colour that never goes out of style. As I move I notice a pair of eyes on me, though I am not surprised, there are hundreds. However, these in particular I notice, because these eyes aren’t filled with fear. I turn suddenly and the line of people I am facing dimples, trying to move away from me. The unpredictable harbinger of darkness. God I hate them. They will never understand what I’ve been through, and the irony of the fact that I saved them all. I feel the darkness stir within my gut.
 

No, keep it cool, don’t play into their hands. Be strong. Focus now.
 

I mutter this internal mantra, trying not to allow the shadows to take me, dilate my eyes, and spider web a map of power across my flesh once more. Containment, containment is the key. I turn and spot what I’m seeking in the crowd. Orion is coming down the stairs, his dress shoes padding like the paws of a jungle cat, soft yet ready to pounce into action at any moment. I narrow my eyes and zoom in on my target, lilac eyes, silver hair pushed back against his skull, a slashed eyebrow, and cheekbones that protrude at acute angles. I look at him and he stares right back, unwavering, intense and fearless. Psiren.

“What the hell are you doing here?” I shout abruptly and he looks at me and shrugs to the people surrounding him, confused. They turn back to me looking increasingly unnerved.
 

Okay, not going to come right out with it then, rookie mistake boy.
 

I guess I’ll have to force him.
 

I launch myself, pushing forward on the balls of my feet and hoisting my skirt up around my haunches. The crowd parts, stumbling back into one another and quickly regaining composure. I reach out, fingers splayed, red nails claw-like and feel my expression turn feral as a map of azure darkness fades back into existence over my translucent flesh shell. I tackle him to the floor, no easy feat for someone my size as he’s taut with tightly packed, but minimal muscle. He looks short and therefore light, but he isn’t and it takes me by surprise as I knock him down into the cold hardness of the floor beneath. I’m straddling him and he looks up at me blazing.

“Love, if you wanted a shag we could have gone outside. Bit public don’t you think?” He pulls out a thick, rough English accent which leaves me surprised. He smiles up at me with a cocky reverence that pisses me off.

“You shouldn’t be here,” I growl at him, clutching his white tuxedo shirt in my balled fists.

“I’d say underneath any woman willing to tackle me for my body is exactly where I should be, Love.” He laughs throatily and lies back, putting his hands behind his head, relaxing into the spectacle.

“Pig. Psirens aren’t welcome here. I should know,” I bite out and shove his chest into the floor angrily.

“Psiren?” My slow brother comes up behind me and looks down at the specimen beneath us.

“Yes. I can tell.” I look at him intensely and I know my pupils have dilated. I know I must look like a Psiren myself. The crowd around is backing away. The silver haired man jumps to his feet in good spirit.

“I must say. You guys know how to show a man a good time. I can see what mother meant about you. Really. Bravo. I’ve had four glasses of champagne already. That’s good shit you’re peddling there. But I do have one question… does anyone in here…” he turns, surveying shocked faces, “know where I can get a light?” He is pacing, arms loose at his side with an evil smile spreading across his bony features.

“I’ll take care of him,” I say to my brother and he opens his mouth to argue. “I’ll take a guard of two Knights if you’ve got them. I need to make sure this piece of shit gets back to where he belongs,” I mutter and Orion relaxes at the mention of guards. Callie is standing at his side, watching in slight shock. I note that she can’t take her eyes off this guy.
 

What? Has she never seen a dumbass before?
I know I have. I hear the mystery Psiren.

“You wound me Love.” He looks at my gown and licks his lips. “But just so we’re clear Pet, the name’s Vex. You’ll need to know that when you’re screaming it later.” I snort as a sinister twinkle passes beneath the dusky lavender of his irises and wonder if he’s referring to torture or sex, or both. What the hell kind of Psiren is this guy? This is what you get when you recruit children. Poseidon should be ashamed. I think back to Callie, outfitted like some bejewelled icon of hope and snort to myself. Atargatis is no better.

“Don’t test me boy. I’ve been dancing with darkness since before you were a speck in your daddy’s eye,” I snarl at him as Orion beckons on two of the Knights that are in charge of security. I look at them, at their incompetent and embarrassed expressions.
Stellar job guys, you’ve officially reached pointless in your roles as protector. Bravo indeed.
I muse to myself about how easy it was for me to just walk in here. What the hell was my brother playing at being so lax with security? The two burly knights pull Vex’s arms behind his back, restraining him and place one hand on the back of his head. I walk behind them back up the length of the ballroom, eyes following my every move and out into the main entrance hall. My heels hit the floor hard, like a hammer hitting iron and the sound rings out like a bell. Warning everyone that trouble is imminent.

On the top of a moonlit cliff where Lunar Sanctum stands, I walk behind the guards, my dress trailing in the dirt behind me. We reach the top of the rock which juts out from the land and stand, wind whipping around us on its sheer edge that leads to a vertical fall. My black hair flies out like tendrils of shadow in the breeze.

“Thank you,” I nod to the guards and they look hesitant to leave, but I assume my still dilated pupils scare them so they do. Vex stands, squat and tightly packed in his suit, back to the ocean which froths at the mouth like an angry dog below.

“Go back to Solustus. Go back and tell him to call off whatever crap you’re trying to pull. We’ve had enough.” I tell him straight and he puts his hands in his pockets.

“We… or you? I didn’t take you for a damsel in distress Love.”

“I’m not. Whatever it is you want, it isn’t good for anyone. Go home. If I see you again I’ll slit your throat and let you choke on your own dying breaths,” I bite out and try to push him backward. I know the fall won’t kill him, but I figure he deserves a spank at the hands of surface tension regardless.

“Uh, uh, uh,” he shakes his head with objective guttural sounds and pulls me close to him. I struggle looking down.
 
We’re close to the edge, teetering fatally close to oblivion. “You push me away, but I know you’re ripe and ready to be picked… picked like the dark, sweet plum you are,” he whispers in my ear. I want to shove him backward but realise it’ll only lead him to pull me with him.

“You’re sick,” I spit and he laughs huskily.

“Aren’t we all Love?” He pushes me back and falls, arms spread like Christ back off the cliff, I hear him splash into the cold depths below and hope he hit his head hard.