Catch of a Lifetime (28 page)

   "Logan, let's not go into all that right now. I'm here to help with Michael." No matter how much it hurt her heart to see the distaste in his eyes every time he looked at her.

   Gods, if only she could go back and re-do everything, she'd—

   She'd do it the same way again. She couldn't regret loving him, but she sure as Hades would have spoken to Michael about not coming after her.

   Logan stood up from his captain's chair and braced a foot on the box beneath it, his eyes alternating between her and the water in front of them.

   "Oh, I don't know, Angel. I think the fact that you have a ruler might have something to do with this. I'm assuming he's a Mer—
man
, as well?'

   Angel nodded.

   Logan rubbed a hand across his eyes. "And Michael knew about you, didn't he?"

   Angel licked her lip and looked away. "Yes."

   "He caught you when we were fishing."

   It wasn't a question, but she felt compelled to con firm it. "Yes."

   "When I was in the cabin?"

"Yes."

"Your voice. It did something to me."

   Again, not a question. "Yes, but only that time in the kitchen—"

   "Why, Angel? Why didn't you just go back in when you got free?"

   She looked up at him, standing there, wind whipping the hair she'd woven her fingers through, shirt stretching across the broad shoulders she'd laid her head on, the muscles in his thighs that had flexed around her now counterbalancing the boat's movements.

   "Because I saw you," she whispered, knowing he wouldn't want to hear it.

   "What?"

   She cleared her throat. "There was a hammerhead in the water who threatened to kill me. It seemed like the lesser of two evils."

   "For you, maybe. For Michael?" Logan turned back to the wheel and gripped it with both hands, his biceps straining the sleeves of his shirt. "He's out here, Angel. On a shark, so the seagull said—and don't think that's not freaking me out. Do you want to tell me why that is? How could a shark get Michael? Or can they walk on land, too? The folks at SNL would love to hear that, I'm sure."

   He exhaled and ran a hand around the back of his neck, kneading the muscles there. "Morbid humor. That's what this is." He looked back at her. "And
why
? Where's the shark taking Michael? Why not kill him right away?"

   She started to offer something comforting, but Logan didn't give her a chance.

   "
Why
did you let Michael know you existed?
Why di
d you have to stay on the boat? Why couldn't you have stayed in the ocean where you belong and where none of us would be the wiser?"

   No adult in this world would have believed Michael's story if it had come out. Adults never did. Eventually, Michael would have forgotten about her or have come to think of her as an odd dream he'd had as a child— after all, who didn't believe in mermaids and fairies and unicorns at some point in their lives? It had happened before. That was how the myths had started in the first place. Some Human had written down a child's recol lection and called it a fable.

   But this was no fable. And, yes, she was responsible. She admitted that.

   She'd had her reasons, though. Good reasons. And no one could have known a shark would come along and disrupt them. No one could have foreseen any of this.

   "Logan, look. You're right. I shouldn't have stayed that first night. I'd never planned to come on your boat in the first place, but Harry, well, he didn't give me much choice. He wouldn't leave. And then… well… You and Michael, you made me feel so welcome, and I'm trying to prove to my brother that Mer-Human communication is a good thing for the planet and figured the best way to start is with the children."

   "But why
my
child?"

   
Because he was there
seemed like such a lame an swer, but the fact was, it was the truth.

   "I never wanted to hurt you. Either of you."

   "You should have thought about that days ago," Logan muttered, ramming a metaphorical harpoon a little harder into her heart. A little deeper.

   "Logan, I can help you get him back." And she would. Come Hades or high tide, she
would
return Michael to his father.

   Logan reached up for a metal bar above his head and hung onto it, his eyes focused on the horizon. "Good. And then I want you out of our lives. Forever."

FIFTEEN MINUTES LATER, ANGEL SAW A SIGHT THAT MADE her blood run cold.

   Floating on the waves, rim side up, was Michael's hat.

   Logan saw it a second later.

   He cut the motors, leaving one barely idling so he could steer alongside it. Then, leaping off the bridge and clearing her tail, he grabbed a fishing gaff to scoop the hat from the water.

   The waves kept it just beyond his reach.

   Cursing, Logan tried again—and almost ended up in the ocean.

   Which was where
she
belonged.

   Checking first for shark fins, Angel took matters into her own fins and dove over the side. Within seconds she had the hat, and two seconds later, Logan had it.

   "Where the hell are they?" His skin blanched beneath his tan as he traced the rim of the hat, such stark pain on his face that Angel couldn't look at him. Not knowing she was responsible.

   "I'll see what I can find out."

   Ten minutes of searching the ocean floor and finding a fistful of discarded hammerhead teeth gave her a clue—as did the lack of sea life in the water around them.

   There were only a few reasons every swimming thing would abandon an area. Environmental issues—which she could personally attest to not being the reason—or predators. There was no shark here. Not now. And even though one had been here, the sea life should have re turned quickly once he left. But there were no fish or urchins or even plankton to be found.

   Only one thing—one being—scared sea creatures into hiding like this. One highly disturbing and extremely possible reason, given their latitude and longitude.

   Ceto.

   It all made sense. The dearth of sea life, the prox imity to Ceto's Bahamian Palace, plus that fact that a Human male, a child, and the opportunity to stick it to The Council were Ceto's trifecta.

   It all made too much damn sense.

   As did the fact that Harry had to be the one who'd helped her, though why Ginger hadn't recognized him was beyond Angel. Harry had a way of making himself known.

   Angel surfaced with Harry's teeth in her fist, hoping the bastard would have to gum his food for the rest of his life—what little there was left of it, if she had any say.

   She vowed to ensure she would. Especially when she saw Logan's reaction to her theory.

   "A sea monster has my son," he growled in a low, deep, primal rumble, crushing the hat in his hand. He rested his palms on the side of the boat, his head hanging low. "Is he alive? Will she keep him alive?"

   Angel swallowed. She didn't want to have to tell him this, but it was too late for regrets. The only way was to go forward. Save Michael. "Ceto won't kill Michael, Logan." Keep him locked in her home for the rest of his life, yes. But she wouldn't kill him. "I'm guessing she has him in her palace."

   Logan looked at her then, the first time since she'd gone overboard. His brown eyes were almost black. "So where is this palace?"

   "That way." Angel pointed. "Not far."

   "Not far? There's nothing but ocean until we hit Bermuda."

   She didn't say anything, letting his mind slowly come to grips with what she meant. In its own time. It was a tough concept for a Human to grasp.

   "Underwater?" He was quicker than she'd thought he'd be. "Her palace is… She has my son
underwater
? She
drowned
him?" He staggered back out of her line of sight.

   Angel kicked harder, going into a tailstand so she could grasp the gunwale and pull herself up to rest her arms on the side of the boat. "No, Logan. Ceto would never do that to a child. She loves children. She probably…" This was not going to go over well. It never did.

   "She probably what, Angel?" Logan sat up.

   "She probably turned him. Into a water-breather."

   "She did
what
?"

   Angel wanted to caress that worried look from his face, but only words were going to do it. "She made him capable of breathing water, Logan. It's not painful, and Michael didn't feel a thing. He's actually fine. Ceto won't hurt him."

   "How the hell can you be sure of that? She's already done something to him. A water-breather? What? Does he have gills now?"

   Angel bit back the sharp reply. He wasn't the only one having a tough time with Michael's disappearance. He didn't have to be insulting.

   Mers—mammals—didn't have gills like fish. They— she—were higher on the evolutionary chain. Above Humans, even, but now wasn't the time to go into that.

   "No gills. To Michael, it's the same thing as breath ing on land. I doubt he'll even notice." She fluttered her tail flukes to get a better grasp on the boat. "And Ceto loves children."

   "Yeah, she's proving that so well." Sarcasm dripped from his words. Sarcasm and bitterness. "Why do you people let her roam the seas, helping herself to children who don't belong to her?"

   It wasn't as easy as locking Ceto up, but there was no time to go into Ceto's history now. Gods and goddesses, Immortals, powers… If he thought a tail was tough to swallow, he'd be blown overboard by the rest of what was in her world.

   "Logan, I'm sure we're more frightened than Michael is."

   Logan raised his eyebrows but didn't argue. "Fine. Whatever. But I can't sit around here doing nothing." He started pacing. "I'll call the Coast Guard. The Navy. They have heavy artillery." He stopped. "No, I can't. Not without telling them why, and the minute they hear 'sea monster,' they're going to think I'm crazy." He sat on the edge of the boat and looked at her. "
What
does she want with him, Angel? Why did she take him?"

   "Ceto can't have any more children. The gods have forbidden it. My guess is she took Michael to raise him as her own. She's done this before."

   "Of all the fucked-up—" Logan kicked the gaff, then shot back to his feet. "Let's go."

   "Go?"

   "Yes, go. Michael is
my son and I'm going to get him
. I have to do something, Angel. I can't just let her have him. So, can
you
do it? What she did? Turn me into a water-breather?"

   Yes. She could. In direct opposition to The Council's orders and express wishes.

   As if that would stop her. "Yes. I can."

   "Good. Do it."

   "Okay, but—"

   "But what?" He grabbed the gaff from the bottom of the boat and held it before him like a sword.

   Angel shuddered when she saw the sleek steel hook. That could do major damage. Problem was, she didn't know if they could get close enough to Ceto to use it. The sea monster was extremely cagey about security.

   "Angel? But what?"

   She tore her gaze off the weapon. "We need to be in the water."

   "Not a problem." He took his shirt off in one fluid movement, grabbed something from a tackle box, shoved it and Michael's hat into his shorts pocket, then dove overboard to surface next to her.

   "So how do we do this?" His hair was plastered to his head, seawater glistening on his eyelashes, and Angel didn't know that he'd ever looked so handsome.

   Or so worried.

   And that was her fault.

   So she could either tread here and moan, or save Michael. No brainer.

   Then she'd hie her tail to Atlantis to atone for her sins and pray to the gods that she'd even be able to pray be cause Ceto was going to kill her for taking Michael back.

   Angel knew all of that—just as she knew what she was going to have to do.

   "Angel?" Logan swam closer, his legs skimming against her tail when she lowered herself into the water.

   She was going to miss him. "I have to kiss you."

   "What?" His eyebrows arched. "Now? In case you've forgotten, my son is missing, and last night happened before I knew what you are."

   The w
hat you are h
urt. Not w
ho you are,
but w
hat.
She was a
what
to him.

   She was also the reason his son was missing, so she could put her injured heart and bruised ego on the con tinental shelf and get on with it.

   "Logan, there's only one way you can get water breathing ability."

   He cocked an eyebrow. "Okay. How?"

   Angel fluttered her fins to remain vertical and tried not to brush his legs with them. She didn't need him freaking out any more than he was about to.

   "I have to kiss it into you."

SHE HAD TO KISS HIM.

   There were a million reasons for Logan to back away from that stipulation, chief among them that she was a mermaid. As much as he hated that fact, he couldn't deny that he'd wanted to kiss her last night.

   Before he'd known.

   And could, if he allowed himself, want to again.

   But she was a
mermaid
. What would be the point?

   There was no future for them. And even if there could be, he had Michael to think of. His son would have to lie to everyone he met because he couldn't tell anyone that his stepmother was a mer maid. Back-to-school night? "Oh, sorry, my wife couldn't make it. She's having her tail washed." Homeroom mom? "Sure, but the lemonade is made with saltwater."