A Pirate's Dream (4 page)

Its skin was smooth, not slimy at all, and it was various shades of green. Lime at the head, to a deep-rich forest at its tail. Mottled and speckled with black spots, it was the cutest thing she’d ever seen.

“Hello, little guy,” she spoke softly to it, tickling it under its belly.

It gave her a croak in response, blinking once then twice. After a final caress of its tail on her pinky finger, it swam off lazily.

Sighing, she happened to glance up in time to see a touch of confusion shade the corners of the king’s eyes, and she felt a stab of foolishness.

“What?” she bristled, vexed by his hard, curious stare.

His hand tightened on her waist. Damn him for making her so aware of it, too. His thumb had slipped between her bodice and skirt, finding skin, and surely it was accidental the way he kept rubbing against her.

“You act as though you’ve never seen these creatures.”

Crossing her arms over her chest, she glared at him, saying nothing. That had been a private moment of indulgence, and suddenly, she felt too exposed and stripped bare before him.

They didn’t talk during the rest of the descent, and though Nimue was just as delighted by the sights as she’d been before his intrusion, she kept her thoughts and her hands to herself.

The moment they arrived at the city of Seren proper, she knew it on sight, just based on the descriptions. Her mother had spoken of a castle built of stone, gold, and coral. And huts scattered around with curls of smoke issuing from chimneystacks. But her mother had spoken of a grand reception of mermaids.

Nimue still had yet to see one.

Frowning, realizing she would have to talk to him if she wanted answers to her questions, she grunted, “Where is everyone?”

Sircco glanced down at the cobbled pathways. “I did not ask for the banners to be raised. They know to stay as they are.”

Annoyed, but not sure why, she curled her nose at him. “Whatever. You have me here. Now what do you plan to do with me? Toss me in a dungeon?”

She’d kill someone before she ever allowed that to happen.

No more prisons.

No more.

Suddenly, a glowing trident appeared in his hand, and with a flick of his wrist, massive stone doorways were tossed open.

Nimue didn’t even get a moment to study its opulence before she was rushed through its doors, taken up what seemed to be a never-ending spiral of stairs, then thrust unceremoniously into a bedroom door.

And with each flick of his tail, he grew visibly more and more irritated, so that by the time she got to the room, the waters around him were choppy and churning.

“You will remain here until I’ve had a moment to speak with the queen.”

With those words, the sexiest male she’d ever seen, with the worst attitude she’d ever had the misfortune of dealing with, slammed the doors behind him.

And just like that, she was back in prison.

*

S
irenade glanced up when Sircco entered their private study. Sitting behind a desk of coral, she set the scroll she’d been studying down and lifted a finely arched brow. “Brother, and where have you been this afternoon?”

Her voice rolled with power. Where Sircco held the elements of thunder and lightning, Sirenade was the physical embodiment of the sea. Separate, they were powerful forces, but together, they ruled their sea with an iron fist. There was none greater than them, save for the Sea Goddess Calypso, and she was all things.

Scrubbing a fist down his jaw, his mind a muddled frustrated mess, he swam over to a shelf of leather-bound books and thought that maybe reading would help settle his nerves. But as his finger rolled across their spines, not one of the hundreds before him even came close to piquing his curiosity.

With a growl, he moved over to the silver cart full of colorful glass decanters, snatched up a crystal tumbler, and poured several fingers’ worth of the highly intoxicating red rum.

His hands shook a little when he brought it to his mouth. But the first swallow of liquid lightning had an immediate calming effect. The entire time, his sister merely looked at him, her visage growing more and more concerned, but she said nothing.

Sighing, he shook his head. “I acted foolish and reckless today. That is what I did, sister.”

Glowering at everything and nothing, he swam around until he could settle himself on a merman-sized conch bed and slowly continued to sip on the spirit.

Cocking her head, she tapped her black talons gently across the top of the mother-of-pearl desk. “Would you care to elaborate, or should I unleash a fury upon the human world?”

There was a hint of a growl to her words, and he couldn’t help but snort.

She and he had been born from the great sea mother’s womb thousands of years ago. Twins. But she’d been born a minute before him, which had always given his sister a propensity toward mothering him.

“I fear, dear sister—” He wet his lips. “That this time, it is I and no one else who’s committed the wrong.”

Looking far more worried now, she slowly got up from her desk. “What have you done?”

By birthright, they commanded the Seren Seas and all that belonged in it. So long as they never crossed Calypso, there was nothing that could stand against him. She must have been shocked indeed then to hear him confessing to a wrong when there was no one to hold them accountable for it.

In truth, he’d been within his right to do as he’d done. Nimue had trespassed upon the hag’s island, and while she’d not managed to take the soul orb, she’d certainly given it her best shot.

The hag had more than been within her rights to demand recompense for what the she-pirate had done. Anyone else, and he would have washed his hands of them. It mattered not to him what the hag did so long as her eccentricities never crossed his.

But he’d heard his name called and felt the tug of Sirenade’s magicked dragon, and he’d gone, more out of curiosity than anything else.

Only then, he’d encountered a creature—a legger, of all things—of such undeniable appeal and curiosity that he’d offered a trade to the hag.

And not just because she’d held Sirenade’s charm, but also because when he’d looked into her eyes, he’d seen not Hook, or even the lovely Trishelle, but the eyes of a kindred.

Long ago, he’d given up his passion for Talia and accepted the fact that his beloved had instead chosen to be with another. It’d not been easy to lose her to Hook, but he’d had centuries to come to terms with the loss of her.

But for just a moment, he’d seen a flash of something wild and primitive in Nimue’s eyes, something... soul deep.

Snarling, he clenched his hand so hard that he fractured the tumbler, causing it to crack and splinter. Little pieces of crystal dug into his palm.

“Brother!” Sirenade snapped. “Now you are beginning to worry me. Please, tell me what has happened here.”

Clenching his jaw, he dug out the bits of crystal, letting them float away on a gentle current that was now tinged in red from blood spilling out of his hand. The hermit crabs on his crown, aware of their master’s scent, crawled quickly down his arm and toward the micro-cuts.

Their gold-tipped feelers brushed delicately against his flesh. The gold on their bodies wasn’t merely for ornamentation. In fact, it was a form of magic that enabled them to provide him whatever was needed. In this case, he needed healing.

Within moments, his flesh had sealed back up, and the little creatures were scuttling to settle back into place upon his crown.

“Hook,” he managed to pinch out the one word.

Eyebrows gathering into a deep frown, she asked, “What about him? He has set anchor at the port of dragons. Has he done wrong? Surely, I would have sensed—”

Hook was a particular favorite of his sister’s. Why, the Goddess only knew. Sircco considered himself a levelheaded merman, thinking more with his head than his heart. But the history between the two of them made it impossible for him to ever truly forgive the now-reformed blackguard.

Wanting another drink, but not willing to crush anymore valuable crystal, he settled back into the soft padding of the conch. There were so many things he ought to be doing—checking in on the serfs, assuring himself that this year’s harvest of sea algae continued to flourish, among other things... not sitting here, dwelling on the fact that in this palace now sat the daughter of the man he’d grown to disdain through the past twenty years.

“Gods,” he ground out. “No, Hook has done no wrong. But his daughter has.”

“Daughter? Huh.” Swimming around the desk, Sirenade sat on the very edge of it, swishing her bronze tail, identical to his own, gently back and forth in the calm current. “You know, come to think of it, I had heard he’d had a child. Some years past now, but always so much mystery surrounding that one. Rarely allowed above deck, the sightings of her are quite rare. And you say you saw her?”

“I said nothing of the sort, but since you’re far wiser than you look—”

She stuck her tongue out at him, and just that tiny gesture helped ease some of the strain between his shoulders.

“Yes, I saw her.”

“Calypso.” An excited gleam scrawled through her liquid amber eyes, and her hair, which had been straight just moments ago, curled tightly about her shoulders. “And? Is she as gorgeous as her papa?”

“He is a human, Sirenade. Those awful legs...” He curled his nose with disdain. “Ugly little creatures. And they smell even worse.”

Snorting with laughter, she gave him a don’t-be-so-ridiculous look. “Right. And what would your call your infatuation with Trishelle, then? If I recall, she also wears those
unsightly
legs.”

While it was true that he’d been intrigued by Trishelle, it wasn’t for the reasons his sister believed. He’d not found the body nearly as fascinating as the soul that’d been trapped within.

“You know it had nothing to do with the woman herself.”

“Ah, yes, our wayward Talia was your heart’s true desire. But do not think me a fool, brother, for I saw the way your eyes studied her. How you sometimes still watch her from afar.”

He grimaced. He’d only ever done that on occasion and only when he’d thought he was alone.

She shrugged unapologetically. “I’ve spies everywhere, and you must know how worried I was for you after that wedding. You did not speak or eat for days on end. Losing Talia was hard for you. You very nearly faded... I was taking no chances of that happening again.”

Clenching his jaw, Sircco stared off to the right, studying the glass sculpture of a mermaid with eyes of blue and hair the color of sea kelp. His Talia had been so lovely, so pure, and the only thing his heart had ever yearned for.

In thousands of years, he’d never loved another. The ghost of her had haunted him through several lifetimes. But he’d learned eventually to numb himself to her loss and to accept the fact that she’d chosen, and it had not been him.

And though he was no fan of Hook, he did not hate the man. Closing his eyes, he confessed, “I’ve taken Nimue as my own.”

“You what!” Sirenade’s shriek shook the waters throughout all the land, causing great waves to rise up.

Outside, he heard the sharp, startled cries of his people as the ripple effect of their queen’s power rolled by.

“How could you be so stupid?” she berated. “Do you know what this will do? The war it could cause between the leggers and us? Hook’s daughter. His
daughter
!”

Her bronze hair, which had hung so placidly around her shoulders before, snapped and writhed like angry sea snakes, transforming her from a vision of loveliness into a terror of the deep.

Rarely, and only when she was truly upset, could it actually turn into snakes, and Goddess help anyone who dared to come in too close to her. One bite would fell a mermaid. For him, it would merely sting, but it was never fun to suffer through.

Growling, feeling his own power begin to stir inside him, he held up a hand. “Before you decide you’d like to decapitate me, remember you cannot rule without me. And two, it was either that or let the sea hag eat her. Which I’ve no doubt the beast would have done, eventually.”

He thought about Nimue’s relative scrawniness compared to what the hag regularly feasted on, and he had to choke back a smile. The little pirate had been a fiery little beastie with her sword outdrawn and her snarling, snapping ways. Gods, it may have been fun to watch the two of them go at it. The hag would never have fought fairly, though. Sircco couldn’t help but wonder what the little pirate would be like in battle.

She’d stood tall and proud before them, even trapped as she was within the hag’s magic, her slim shoulders straight, black hair whipping like a banner in the breeze behind her. Her eyes had been the light blue of a warm grotto. Her lips were as pale and pink as a pearl. Her nose was pert, and her chin slightly pointed.

From the waist up, it was hard to say she wasn’t a lovely creature. The waist down, though, was another matter entirely.

“The sea hag?” Some of his sister’s anger waned as she settled back down on the edge of the bed. Her hair now loose curls rather than tightly wound corkscrews. “What exactly has happened here, Sircco?”

Tapping his fingers together, he gave her a pointed look.

Holding up a hand, she nodded. “I’ll listen. Just don’t surprise me that way again. I’ve no desire to enter into war with my Prince of Thieves.”

“Just so,” he drolled, “the legger found herself in a rather precarious position. You see, she tried to steal the hag’s orb for her own.”

“But how is this possible?” Sirenade frowned prettily. “The hidden isle should not have made a reappearance for at least another year yet.”

“I know this. I wondered as much myself. Though when I arrived, I tasted the magic of the great sea upon the waters.”

Suddenly, his sister held perfectly still, her clawed fingers gripping the edge of the desk with white-knuckled intensity. “Mother was there?”

“No. Calypso was nowhere to be found, but her essence was. She definitely had a hand in why the hag rose as she did.”

“That is interesting.” She pursed her lips. “Go on.”

“The hag entrapped her and, as near as I can tell, was mere seconds away from something vile and dastardly when the legger cried out to me.”