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Authors: Katie O'Sullivan

BOOK: Blood of a Mermaid
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Obvious from their hair and skin tone, these servants were from the Pacific Ocean. Zan wondered if Prince Azul’s body was in one of the trunks being loaded, and sighed heavily, the bubbles streaming from his gills. Although poisoning King Koios’s Eucheuma seeds at the Solstice banquet had been part of his plan, he never in a million years considered that the king would share his private bowl with the other royals. The deaths of both the Pacific prince and the Southern Ocean’s young king, Theo, were unexpected consequences of Aequorean hospitality.

Only King Koios was supposed to die that night. And he was the one who survived, thanks to that drylander bastard.
How did Shea figure out which antidote to administer?

“Are you with the Pacific delegation?”

Zan whirled at the sound of the mermaid’s voice, surprised to find he wasn’t alone in the garden and even more surprised when he found himself face to face with the exact blonde mermaid he had been sent to find. The girl he was supposed to kidnap.

Being this close to her, he could honestly say she was the most beautiful mermaid he’d ever laid eyes on, with billowing blonde curls swirling around her heart-shaped face and glittering green eyes like diamond-cut emeralds. A string of elegant pearls graced her slender neck and a delicate silver bangle surrounded her wrist, both seemingly at odds with the rough hemp vest that he knew was in style among mermaids her age group.
My age
, he corrected himself.
She’s only a year or two younger than I am
.

He quickly plastered on what he hoped looked like the youthful grin of a University student and rubbed his hand over his green-bearded jaw. “Nope, I’m not from the Pacific. Didn’t you know their court frowns on facial hair? I’d be kicked out of Prince Azul’s castle faster than you could say
jumping jellyfish.”

Her eyes went wide as she rested a light hand on his arm. “Didn’t you hear? Poor Prince Azul was poisoned at the banquet!” She nodded toward the wagon. “Those are his things they’re loading now, taking them back for his father.”

Zan was overly aware of the softness of the mermaid’s touch, the slight pressure of her fingers on his arm sending shivers of electricity shooting through the length of his body.
Get a grip, Zan.
“Oh no,” he said, feigning ignorance. “I’ve been traveling home from Atlantis these last few weeks and seem to have missed all the gossip. Is there more you can share with a traveler?”

She nodded and gave him a shy smile that made his heart race. “Quite a bit more, actually. Come with me, traveler, and we’ll find you something to eat and drink while I tell you the events of Summer Solstice.”

His body tensed at her unexpected offer. Did she recognize him despite his disguise? Was she luring him into a trap? “Why are you being so kind when you don’t even know me?”

Her eyebrows shot up in surprise. “Is it not common courtesy in your village to welcome travelers with food? I thought that particular custom was pretty universal throughout the Atlantic.” She smiled again, and his heart did another somersault. “But I’ll admit to an ulterior motive, in that I leave soon for Atlantis and would love to hear first-hand details about both the journey and the University itself.”

It was Zan’s turn to smile as he felt himself relax. He’d almost blown his cover by not remembering the stupid Aequorean customs of hospitality. Of course she had to offer him food as soon as he said he was a “traveler.” Lucky for him, she was more focused on hearing about Atlantis than noticing his discomfort. “So that’s why I haven’t seen you around campus, you haven’t started University yet! And here I was, wondering how I could’ve possibly missed noticing someone as beautiful as you, Miss… Miss… I don’t know your name.”

Bright spots of crimson bloomed on both of her cheeks. “You can call me Kae.”

“Kae,” he repeated. “What a pretty name.”

Her blush darkened. “And you are…?”

“Alexander,” he told her honestly, although he hadn’t used his full name in many years. Not since his father had sold him to the stable master. Most servants had one-syllable names, so his had been shortened to Zan. But that name was too risky to use here, in this court, even with his current disguise. “You, however, can call me Xander, with an ‘X’.” Which was close enough to his real name that he should be able to remember it.

“Xander, with an ‘X’,” she repeated with her musical voice, and he felt a thrill go down his spine all the way to the tip of his tail. “Pretty cool name.”

He shrugged, trying hard to be nonchalant and resisting a strong urge to throw his arms around her waist to pull her closer. “I’m a pretty cool guy,” he said, slowly taking her hand. “But I’m also a pretty hungry guy, and I think you mentioned food…”

Her expression had changed when he squeezed her hand, as if she’d suddenly remembered something important. Slowly she pulled her fingers from his grip, putting more space between them, her voice losing some of its musical quality. “Of course. Follow me to the kitchens. I’m sure Marietta has food to spare for a traveler.”

He touched her arm before she could turn her back on him. “Did I do something wrong?”

Kae shook her head, her curls bouncing in the slight current as she shrugged her arm away from his touch. “No, that was me. I didn’t mean for you to think I was flirting,” she said, lowering her eyes. “My mother always tells me I’m too naïve, and too casual with my words.”

Zan reached out and put a finger under her chin to tilt her face back up. Their eyes met, and he was again struck by their glittering depths. “You’re awfully young to be married,” he teased, keeping his tone light. She smiled wanly and shook her head. “Not married, then. So, you’re officially promised to another?”

“Not technically. I do have a boyfriend, though.”

An unexpected flare of jealousy filled Zan’s chest, even though he already knew of the mermaid’s relationship with the half-drylander bastard. He forced his tone to stay friendly as he cocked his head to the side. “Is he here? I’d like to meet the lucky fellow.”

Her eyes darted toward the path through the gardens. “No. He’s…away.”

Where did he journey to and how soon will he be returning to your side? If you were mine I’d never leave you.
The direction of his thoughts shocked him, but he indulged himself a moment longer by cupping his hand against the silky smoothness of her cheek. “You’ve done nothing wrong, Kae. Stop berating yourself.” She nodded silently and he laughed, dropping his hand to his side. “You will need to get a hold of your
syren
voice before you head to Atlantis in September or the boys will be beating down your door.”

She sighed, a stream of small bubble rising from her gills. “That’s what my mother says.”

“She sounds like a wise mermaid.” He took her hand in his again, and this time she didn’t pull away. He closed his eyes and sent a slight current of magick out through his fingers and into her body. Not enough that she’d notice it consciously, but enough to make her trust him. When he opened his eyes, she was smiling again. “Now, about that kitchen you were going to show me?”

“Follow me,” she said with a grin, pulling him along. “But let’s go around to the back, so we don’t bother Prince Azul’s servants.”

Which served Zan’s purposes just fine, although somewhere along the way his mission priorities had shifted in his head. No longer was he planning a one-day reconnaissance, sneaking around to gather information before grabbing the hostage Demyan had sent him to retrieve.

His new and improved plan was to get to know Kae a little better first. Maybe with some time, and maybe a bit more magick, he could convince her to come with him willingly. As he watched the undulating movement of her hips and tail as she swam, he wondered how deep her connection truly was to the drylander whelp she called her boyfriend.

For the first time in his life, Zan wanted something that he couldn’t attain solely with his magick. And he wanted it bad.

Chapter Five

Shea listened to his grandmother’s footsteps receding down the short hallway and descending the stairs. Lucky jumped up on the bed taking Martha’s place, staring into Shea’s face as if the dog were trying to gauge his reaction to the news.

Shea wasn’t sure quite what to think.

His grandmother, a mermaid?
Who else knows about this? Did that mean Dad was more than a mere drylander?
What about his mom…did she know about her husband’s heritage?

Lucky whined and rested one of his front paws on Shea’s chest. “That’s enough, boy,” Shea told the dog, batting the paw away. “I’m okay. I’ve just got a lot to think about right now.” The dog barked in response and jumped off the bed, turning to look back at him before dashing out of the bedroom door.

Shea pushed himself into a sitting position and swung his legs off the edge of the bed. He looked up at the shelves of dusty sci-fi paperbacks, swimming medals, and baseball trophies that lined the space over the dresser. The stuff his dad had left behind when he’d moved to Oklahoma. None of it reminded him of the no-nonsense farmer Shea had called “Dad.” Nothing in the room gave him the first clue whether his dad had known that his mother, Martha MacNamara, was a real live mermaid.

Or whether Dad himself had ever swum far beneath the ocean’s surface to the bottom of Nantucket Sound.

He let out a heavy sigh as he stood up. There was only one person who had the answers to the questions twirling in his mind. And she was waiting in the kitchen, making tea.

Steam rose in swirls from the mug in front of him. Shea sat across from his grandmother at the Formica table in the kitchen, stirring slow circles with his spoon, waiting for her to start talking. In the few months he’d lived with her on Cape Cod, he’d never seen her quite this…nervous? Was she really nervous about telling him the truth?

She fidgeted with the sugar bowl, fussing over a small chip on the lid and mumbling to herself. She squeezed every last drop of liquid from her tea bag until the bag itself was almost bone dry. At last she set it aside with her spoon and raised the mug to her lips, blowing across the hot surface.

Finally, Shea cleared his throat, tired of waiting for her to start the conversation. “So, you’re a mermaid. And you’re, like, a hundred and fifty years old.”

“One hundred and forty six, if you please.” Martha shook her head. “Let’s not rush the aging process. The sun and air do the job fast enough, thank you very much.”

“If you’re a mermaid, what’s with all the bleach? The ‘keeping the ocean out of the house’ stuff?”

“The scent of bleach helps mask my origins from others who might seek me out,” Martha admitted.

“Like Mr. Guenther?”

She nodded. “Yes, despite our long friendship, he never discerned my true nature. On the other hand, while I knew he was of merfolk descent, I had no idea he was sent here to spy on our family.”

Shea thought about his for a moment. “What about my dad? And his twin, Uncle Rick?”

Martha smiled sadly. “Alas, not every child born with mermaid blood has the ability to transform. Both of my boys had a natural affinity for the water, but neither ever developed gills, and neither of them could use the
transmutare
stone to full advantage.”

Shea reached up to touch the stone that hung from a cord around his neck, his own
transmutare
, given to him by his mother. He winced as he remembered that first painful time he’d fallen into the salt water of the Herring River, and the burning sensation caused by his first breaths of water through his newly formed gills.

“Twins are unheard of in my world, although your grandfather’s MacNamara side of the family is filled with them,” Martha continued. “I think the boys’ lack of transformational magick had something to do with their genes being split between the two of them. I’d see flashes of ability within each, but then no more. Take, for instance, your father’s wonderful talents on the high school swimming team. He was the fastest swimmer the Cape had ever seen.”

“I saw the medals in his room,” Shea conceded. “But if he was so good, why didn’t he continue? Couldn’t he have gotten a scholarship or something?”

Martha agreed. “Oh yes, there were colleges trying to recruit him. There was even an Olympic coach who came to watch him swim in the state tournament. But by then, Tom had already met your mother.” She bit her bottom lip, frowning. “There’s probably more to that story as well, but I fear it is Brynn’s to tell.”

“You still haven’t told me if Dad knew you were a mermaid, Gramma.” Shea lifted his mug and took a sip, keeping his eyes glued to her the whole time. He watched as a range of emotions played across her face, from surprise to smiling to sadness, as she sifted through her thoughts.

“Your grandfather MacNamara never knew the whole truth about me,” she started. “When we met, he was stationed on one of the few battleships that was patrolling the Atlantic at that time, and not mired in the wars of the East and the Pacific. The
U.S.S. Saratoga
was part of some NATO war games, where the commanders were practicing in the unlikely event of an attack by the Soviet Union. I met your grandfather when his ship was anchored near the British navy docks in Portsmouth, for refueling. He cut a dashing figure in his shore-leave whites.”

“What were you doing on dry land?” As Shea understood things from Kae, it had long been forbidden for mermaids to co-mingle with humans, or drylanders, as they were called.

Her eyes narrowed sharply. “Though some clans shun contact with drylanders, Aequoreans have traditionally had a more symbiotic relationship with them. Over the years, there are certain things Aequoreans found it easier to purchase than to create for ourselves, such as the brass lanterns you must have noted at the king’s castle.”

Shea nodded, remembering the strange green glow of the luminescent sea creatures swimming within the confines of the glass globes. He hadn’t really considered where the lanterns themselves might have come from, but this explanation made sense. He’d wondered about the fields of oysters under cultivation at the bottom of Nantucket Sound. “Did you trade pearls for drylander goods?”

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