Mere Passion (17 page)

“We’re almost ready to go. Shall we bring any of the mere to assist?"

Kai glanced to where a group of Alara’s men stood. They hung back from him, discussing the rescue in hushed tones. Kai’s disappointment in these men he’d come to respect burned in his chest. Since his troops’ arrival, the mere soldier had been increasingly defiant. The dragon had no idea why.

Perhaps he’d been mistaken thinking that the mere here on Murrough differed from what he’d learned growing up. Clearly, they held no gratitude for their saviors. In fact, more and more they resembled the malcontent citizens he’d seen in other former colonies.

“No,” he said to Laird. “Let’s handle this alone.”

* * * *

By evening, Alara was ready to track Kai down and smack him silly. She hurried down the path to the docks to do exactly that, but spotted him walking with one of his soldiers, the pale one, in front of his long line of troops. The path wove narrowly through thick banks of snow. The white and gray background offset his dark, drawn features.

Damn, why couldn’t he be uglier? Or at least an asshole to her face. His body moved with a chained power. The stiffness remained, but he’d gained…was that a swagger? If that had anything to do with bedding her, he should not be allowed to live.

Gathering her down-filled coat around her shoulders, she marched out to meet him. Her fury bubbled up as she caught his soldiers’ expressions.

“What the hell have you been doing all day?”

His eyes widened as if she had slapped him. His nostrils flared, and she suddenly realized that maybe they should have had this conversation in private.

He didn’t meet her eyes. “Princess, our search today has proven unsuccessful. However the abductions have ceased, so I believe we have succeeded in our primary task.”

The coldness of his words sent shivers down her spine. His body pulsed with—was that hatred?

He added, “I must further inform you that several of your men have demonstrated a distinct lack of cooperation. I will provide you with a report of said activities tomorrow.”

His domineering attitude fell like gasoline on the flames of her anger. “You have no fucking right to order my men around, dragon!”

His eyes locked on hers, seething in fury. Yeah, he hated being yelled at in front of his precious troops. More than that, he hated taking a tongue lashing from a mere.

“We have succeeded where your men have failed. We have stopped the abductions. Hereafter, I and my men will lead this investigation.” He stepped by her, his big body practically pushing her into the snow as he elbowed past.

She turned and fought her way forward through the marching soldiers.

“You have no authority here, dragon. You cannot take charge of matters of Murrough Island security.”

Kai didn’t even look at her when he responded. “Watch me.”

* * * *

The triton heard his daughter’s approach long before she arrived. He didn’t know what threatened his island nation more, these repeated disappearances or involving the dragons.

His door swung open without so much as a knock. His daughter strutted toward him, clearly sure he would favor her opinion. The dragon strode next to her, equally confident. As they walked, their shoulders occasionally brushed, as if they were fighting for the right to approach first. It would have been amusing if not for the murder in their eyes.

“Triton!” His daughter spoke first. “I request that you order the dragon and his men off the island immediately.”

At her words, the dragon stepped back and adopted a bored stance. The triton knew his game in a moment. Nasu gave his daughter enough rope to hang herself. The ruler smiled to himself—smart boy. Unfortunately, Murrough Island needed the manpower, regardless of how right or wrong his daughter might be.

“Alara, you know I respect your opinion. However, I must insist that you allow Kai and his men to remain.” With his every word, his daughter shrank. A dull ache of guilt built in his chest. However, if allowed his daughter would take on the whole world single-handedly, and at some point she would lose.

“Father…Triton…They are undermining our self-governance…they are…He is…” With each attempt to speak his daughter’s voice quieted. He vowed to go to her later and apologize.

He softened his voice, nor caring if the dragon heard his love. “I’m sorry. I need to allow this. Please, try to work together.”

Her eyes, so much like her mother's, reddened. She blinked fast and stalked to the door, slamming it behind her. The triton’s face fell in sorrow. He looked up to meet the dragon’s gaze, ready to defend his daughter in her absence if he couldn’t in her presence.

The dragon’s face held none of the arrogance or satisfaction he’d expected to find. If anything, the male looked very sorry.

* * * *

Kai’s fist pounded again on Alara’s door. Her fragrance floated around the hall, mocking him. He’d lost his temper, overpowered her. He wasn’t wrong. Of that, Kai was certain. But, things could have gone better.

“Alara, let me in.” He spoke slowly and quietly against the weathered wood. Her superior mere hearing surely picked up the sound. Still she ignored him. Music erupted from the room, something hard and wild. He leaned his forehead to her door. Interesting, the wood was old, majestic, at odds with the modern design of the Glass House. It vibrated against his forehead.

He’d assumed she forgot about him. So when the door swung open, he collapsed at her feet. She slammed the door shut behind him, trapping him in overwhelming sound. “You a metal fan?”

So she was trying to torture him. The daggers flying from her gaze hurt him far more effectively than the aural assault. “Is that what this is called?” He listed closely, past the grating lyrics and frantic pace. Her music bespoke battle-rage fiercely controlled and harshly dispatched. “I like it.”

Her fist crashed across his jaw. Stars danced across his vision and he staggered. Mere or not, the princess punched like a locomotive.

Shaking his head, he rose back up to his full height. She flew at him, her whole weight behind the clenched hand, this time aimed at his nose. He caught her hand in his. “I came to apologize.”

She threw off his grip then slapped him so hard his head snapped back. “Yeah, here you fucking apologize. Here where none of your troops can see you.”

His cheek stung, his jaw ached and his guilt faded fast, replaced by anger like lava in his veins. “You know perfectly well I can’t have them see me chastised by a…” The word hung on his lips, but he knew if he said it she’d slap him again, and this time he might deserve it.

“You can’t have them see you bow to a fucking mere, right? That’s it, isn’t it? You know, your lowest ranking soldier looks at me like I’m a fucking crustacean.” Color rode her cheeks. Gods, this woman shone with fury and pride, and everything he could ever want in a—

He pushed her away. Her reddened chest rose and fell in her V-neck sweater. He watched the movements, imagining the old colonial days where he might have simply thrown her down, shown her his dominance in a far more primal way than through political power play.

The gesture only fired her up more. “Well?”

He hung his head and reached for the doorknob. “Yes, Alara. I can’t be seen bowing to a mere.” Even over the screech of the stereo he heard her hard curse as he shut the door.

* * * *

Alara swiped away the tears coating her face. She paced the carpet in her room, occasionally roaring in frustration, or throwing something against a wall. All her hard-won control was slipping through her grasp. She took a deep breath to steel her will before raising the phone to her ear and dialing with a shaking hand. Her brother picked up on the first ring. “Hi, Florian. That thing we discussed the other day? We should talk.”

Chapter 11

Florian luxuriated in his chair and peered around the meeting room. Alara passed each report and proposal through her hands, but clearly she registered little of what any said.

He had contacts at the newspaper ready to post stories to support an overthrow of the triton. Several of the triton’s advisors were on board. A public relations campaign in support of new leadership would be launched the next day.

“Well, Sister. What do you think?”

“I think our father will never forgive us.” She gently returned the document in her hands to the table, as if they were liable to explode on contact.

“Alara, Alara.” Florian simpered with feigned empathy. “Father will forgive you anything. And anyway, he’ll realize we did the right thing once the dust clears.”

Alara raised a brow to him in question, as if she doubted her father would do any such thing.

Florian stroked his goatee. “Alara. I did not want to bring this up until I was certain, but the triton always planned for additional troops to come to the island. General Nasu just cleared the way.”

Her heart skipped a beat. “Do you have any proof of this?”

He pulled a manila folder from his briefcase and pushed it across the pressed-wood table to his sister. She opened it with trembling hands.

Her face dropped as she read the forged emails. Her eyes widened and filled with tears. The sight caused such joy to leap in his chest, Florian had to fight to keep from laughing.

“Why, Florian? Why would he agree to this?’

Florian looked at his sister kindly, with false comfort. “He’s buckling under the pressures of leadership. He was willing to hand over defense of the island to the dragons. Perhaps he wanted to involve them in rule as well. I don’t know why he wanted to hand power to the Council rather to his own children…”

Alara’s eyes filled with bitter tears, the most beautiful sight he’d seen in ages.

“There’s no way you could have known. But now you and I must decide whether to allow the triton to sell our freedom the Dragon Council, or whether to seize power and send the reptiles home.”

The princess chewed her cheek then lifted her head. Her hands drifted back to the proposals she’d only glanced at before. Looking closely, she began to write notes in the margins. “Give me an hour to look over these plans, Florian. You are right. We need to relieve him from power, and we need to do it as soon as possible.”

* * * *

Laird studied Kai’s glazed eyes as the General leafed through the latest report. Nasu had been distracted all evening. Luckily only the two of them worked in the small office in the Glass House. Laird knew that his commander would not want the other soldiers to witness his weakness.

Snow fell outside the window, white against the steel gray of twilight. Spring this far north enjoyed just the right length days, not the extremely long light cycles of the summer, nor the constant darkness of winter. Laird sat back into a large, comfortable chair and allowed his imagination to flit back to the previous night. Natasha? Linda? Tricia? For the life of him he couldn’t remember her name, but she’d been warm and soft. He’d spent the night in her comfy little apartment and watched her make breakfast.

Nightfall made him think about going back to that bar, finding her, spending another delicious evening lost between her sheets and her legs. No additional kidnappings had occurred for several days, and the populace was tentatively hopeful that the children would be returned like last time. Perhaps he would be able to stay on Murrough for a while. His assignments in the habitats always ended so soon.

“Laird?” Kai’s voice jolted him out of his daydreaming.

“Yes, sir?” Kai’s face held a very uncharacteristic expression. If Laird didn’t know better, he’d say it was doubt.

“Were you born among the mere?”

Laird nodded, wondering where this questioning would lead. He’d long ago tired of being interrogated about everything from mere psychology and social structure to the best way to get a mermaid in bed.