MERMADMEN (The Mermen Trilogy #2) (12 page)

“Roen,” she panted, noticing that her clothes dripped with blood-tinged seawater, “what the hell is happening? Why did they attack?”

Not stopping his brisk pace, he said, “Because they can, since they’re able to tolerate sunlight all of a sudden.”

“Why do you think it’s sudden? One of the maids I saw the morning I left here was out in sunlight.”

Roen abruptly halted, and though Liv thought she’d run right into him, he had her by the shoulders before she could blink. “What do you mean, Liv?”

“The mermaid who made me promise never to tell about the island stood in the sun—the others ran away.”

“Why didn’t you tell me this?” he shouted.

“I don’t know. I thought you knew, and the detail didn’t seem important after watching those things devour a man in front of my face.”

“A non-nocturnal mermaid didn’t seem important?”

Liv pulled her hand from his firm grasp. “Don’t—” she pointed her finger in his face “—you raise your voice to me, Roen. Not ever. Or I swear to God I will hurt you somewhere special.”

“You can’t hurt me. I’m a merman.”

“Oh, for God’s sake, Roen! Stop with the Superman crap!”

“Not Superman. Mer. Man,” he corrected. “Superman is fictional. Mermen are real. Don’t ever forget that,” he growled.

“How could I forget when you guys are the reason my sister’s life almost ended three minutes ago? Or when I got kidnapped from my home? Or held against my will and had my neck almost snapped by one of you? Trust me, I know. So you’ll have to excuse me, Mr. High and Mighty Merman, but I’ve been a little busy trying to survive, not go crazy, and protect my sister. So don’t you dare blame me for this massacre because I failed to mention that one of your horrifying women went for a morning swim in sunlight.”

Roen’s harsh expression melted away, and he looked down at the ground. “My apologies. I’m upset, not to mention worried.” He raised his head and looked at her with those stunning green eyes. “I needed to know you were safe and far away from here, given what comes next. Now, I’m not sure what I’ll do.”

Now Liv felt bad. “What comes next?”

He bit his full, sensual bottom lip. “I will answer your question—I promise—but let’s check on the woman and Dana first. Then we may speak.”

“Yes. You’re right.” What the hell was she thinking?

They continued on the trail that wove between pine trees with trunks five feet in diameter, and Liv immediately noticed something different about the air.

“Roen,” she said, barely keeping up with his pace, “what the hell is that?”

“What?”

“The temperature is getting warmer.”

“And?”

“The air on this island always gets colder the closer you get to the mountain.” It made sense if Crazy Dirt—aka the island—directed her heat to shield herself from the outside world.

Roen slowed for a moment, then returned to his brisk pace. “I don’t foking know, though you’re right, something’s off.”

That was not the answer she expected to hear from Roen.

When they reached the mouth of the cavern—aka the “great” hall—Liv expected to see the woman fully recuperated, but one of Roen’s men shoved past them from behind with a bottle in his hand. The moment he reached her body on the floor, he poured the liquid into her mouth. “Drink it down,” he said softly. “Everything will be fine.”

Roen stood frozen in the jagged stone doorway, tightly gripping Liv’s hand.

The man holding the woman’s head looked up at Roen and shook his head in grief. “It’s too late. She’s dead.”

Dana, who’d been standing and watching, began to cry.

“Why didn’t you give her water from the…” Roen’s words died. “Goddammit.”

Liv’s eyes followed Roen’s gaze and noticed the empty pool of water. The night before it had been full and glowing with an eerie green light.

“Where’d it all go?” she said.

Roen released her hand and rubbed his face, groaning.

“Roen?”

“There’s no more sacred water,” he said.

“I see that. Why? Is the island dead?” Roen had once told her that the island was like a fearful child. And that child kept having nightmares about the landlovers coming to take away all of her water. Unfortunately, that water was like her blood, so while she could give away some, she couldn’t live without it altogether.

Roen closed his eyes and tilted his face toward the soaring ceiling. After several moments, he shook his head. “She is angry, not dead.”

“Are you sure?” Liv asked.

“Yes, I can hear her heartbeat and feel her bitterness in the air.”

“Oh. She’s bitter?” Liv yelled at Roen. “She tried to kill Dana and me, and about fifty women just became a mermaid banquet!”

Roen released a frustrated breath. “There is no turning back now. We must see this through to the end as our scriptures state.”

Liv wasn’t familiar with their scriptures, but it didn’t take a genius to know that some sort of doom-related milestone had been reached. “That sounds bad.”

“At least this will all come to an end one way or another.”

Liv searched in his eyes for an answer that wasn’t there. “Even us?”

“You and I never had a chance to begin with.” He brushed his thumb over her bottom lip and his eyes filled with deep sorrow. “Even if it’s what my heart has always wanted.”

CHAPTER ELEVEN

Later that morning, after the island’s healer, Holden, confirmed Dana had a fractured arm and gave her a few drops of water, which worked immediately—
Guess she’s not “defective”
—Roen and a few of his men brought them back to his home. His mansion, built in a log-cabin style resembling something one might find in Aspen, sat atop a forested hill with large panoramic windows and a pitched roof. Inside, however, was anything but rustic. The smooth white walls, large oil paintings, and modern furniture with crisp fabrics and sharp angles made the home feel more like a posh New York penthouse. Not that she’d ever been in one, but who didn’t watch
House Hunters
?

The funny part was, Roen had called the place “pedestrian.” It was a reminder he’d once lived in a different world where money was no object. Private planes, expensive suits, and chauffeurs. He’d sacrificed it all for her and to help these people. He was a natural-born protector, and it was what she loved about him.

Since the attack on the boat, however, Roen seemed nervous and unsettled, not at all like the protector Roen she knew. “Don’t you let anyone
foking
near her,” he’d yelled at the guards before leaving, “or I swear I will rip out your hearts.”

She wondered if the man might actually be cracking.
Good. He can join me.

Now, what did he plan to do regarding her and Dana? She suspected he hadn’t made up his mind.

Or doesn’t know.
Leaving by boat was too risky, and flying out, considering the island’s “air control” capabilities, wasn’t a winner either. They might find themselves getting cooked right out of the sky.

The only thing Liv knew for certain? Roen wouldn’t throw in the towel when he wanted something. Right now, he wanted her gone. Far the hell away from him. Maybe even more so now that things had heated up.

Island vs. Mermen.
Sounded like a damned B-movie. And a slaughter waiting to happen. Roen mentioned once that the island could read their hearts. So without secrecy, how would they ever get the upper hand in a fight? Their giant muscles would be useless, like bringing a maraca to a gun fight.

The only real option might be to stand against
La Gran Perra
, refuse to do her evil bidding, and weather any punishment she doled out. A battle of the wills between two species that excelled at digging in and taking heads.

That did not sound enjoyable.

Which brought Liv to her second mind-boggling question: If pushed to fight team merman, what would be the island’s weapon?

Love. Love is her biggest weapon. Plain and simple.
These men loved those…things in the water and Crazy Dirt used them as leverage. Exactly why Roen’s move to “cure” the maids was key.

I can help with that.
She could figure out how the island triggered the transformation.

Yay. Something to do aside from feeling scared or horny.

With Dana still sleeping, Liv took a shower to rinse away the sheen of dried salt and blood from her skin and then changed into a black stretchy dress she’d found in the closet. There were stacks in every size along with black leather sandals, too.
Guess they buy in bulk, a
thought that mildly disturbed her, knowing they were for the comfort of the female “guests.”

She went downstairs and wandered through Roen’s modern palace, still finding it hard to believe this kind of luxury existed out in the middle of the North Pacific while remaining hidden from the world.

Liv passed the doorway of the formal dining room with seating for fifty plus, and then walked along a brightly lit hallway lined with life-sized oil paintings. Her first time inside this house, she’d been so frightened by the situation she hadn’t taken time to appreciate the art.

She strolled along slowly, noting each painting and their historical significance—battles; a mermaid dying on a rock while her human-looking lover wept; a commanding man with long hair, summoning waves with a trident on a stormy night.

One in particular, an abstract of shadows swimming in the ocean away from the island, caught her attention. With the bold brushstrokes and colors, she couldn’t be sure, but the silhouettes seemed masculine.

Liv stepped back, focusing on the textures of the picture. Yes, the shadows in the water were men, and the figures standing in the shadows of the trees, watching the men swim away, were women. With legs.

Liv made a mental note to ask Roen about the painting and then continued to the end of the hallway toward a set of bright blue double doors painted with tribal mermaid symbols.

She knocked and cautiously poked her head inside when no one answered.

“Wow.” Roen said he’d been spending his time reading and had more to do. Now she understood why. This wasn’t a room but the Merman National Library.

Or is it an aquarium?
At the entrance stood a floor-to-ceiling saltwater fish tank, like something found at Sea World, holding several spotted sharks four feet long. Brightly colored fish—blue and orange, black and red—darted in and out between the crevices of black lava rocks placed in the corners. She’d never seen such an enormous tank in someone’s home.

Funny, I thought Roen hated fish
. Maybe he wanted to make an effort to change. Yeah, she could see him doing that. The man refused to be a slave to anything, including his fears.

Except when those fears come to me
. He refused to even look those fears in the eye.

She walked around the aquatic wall, and the full view of the library came into focus. It was all one level that included a spacious sitting area with an old steam trunk for a coffee table, a worn, welcoming brown couch, and a very comfortable burgundy armchair angled toward a fireplace with a giant rusty anchor propped up on the mantle.

No doubt a souvenir from some battle or ship they sank.

She then turned her attention to the four aisles of shelves running to the back of a room the length of half a football field.

Liv wandered down one of the center aisles, her eyes drinking in the floor-to-ceiling rows of thick books.

You look fun.
She plucked one off the shelf. It looked especially old with a faded light brown leather jacket and gold, hand-painted numbers on the spine.

Liv opened to the front page, and the musty smell of old paper immediately hit her nose. Careful not to let the acid of her fingers touch any text, she gently flipped the pages by the corners until the word “Doran” caught her eye.

Filled with a great rage, Segar Doran stood like a mighty oak, alone in the dark cold belly of the sacred mountain, a torch in one hand and lifeless mermaid at his feet. He wished to claw out his eyes. He wished to rip out his own heart. The creature before him had once been the most beautiful of females in all the world, with hair that flowed like golden ribbons and eyes the color of the deepest ocean. She had been his everything. She had been his mate.

“Why? Why do you do this to us?” Segar wailed at the walls sweating with life-giving water. “Do not be a coward. Speak!”

“You and I both know the reason, merman,” spoke the great voice of the island.

“We will not drink the water,” he growled defiantly. “We will not bend to you. We prefer to die, leaving you to suffer a slow torturous death, infested by humans who will starve you with their greedy hearts.”

It was what she deserved for having taken away their women, turning them into these ferocious sea creatures, these abominations of the night. For they had once been a beautiful people, like peacocks of the sea with flowing tails of every color and peace in their hearts. It was said they could control the sky above them and command the ocean around them, that they were loved by the Earth.

Captivated by the story, Liv planted herself on the floor with her legs crossed. She wondered if this was the retelling of something that had actually happened or a made-up story. And if real, then where had their power gone? Had the island taken it?

Now they were merely slaves—mad and weak.

The island’s embittered laughter filled his ears. “Well, then, merman. I will continue to kill your mates. One by one. They will wash up on the shore so you may look upon their faces and be reminded of who truly holds all the power.”

Segar had never been a man to hate. But he hated this place. He hated her—the island—with every fiber of his being. It was the reason he and his men had vowed to stop eating and stop drinking the sacred water that made them strong and live for hundreds of years.

“Why do you do this to us?” he said.

“Because you attempted to leave me unprotected,” she spat. “And my survival is far more important than your need for sex or female companionship.”