Heads or Tails (9 page)

Ivyanne looked at Pintang, whose opinion counted the most. ‘It’s still restrictive I know, but is it better?’

Pintang’s head bobbed wildly on her fragile-looking neck. ‘Absolutely!’

‘Fifteen families…’ Saraya repeated. ‘That’s a minimum of fifteen saved per generation. I really do think those are good odds.’

‘Holy shit!’

A ripple of alarm caused every nerve-ending inside Ivyanne to alight with a furiously violent charge. All three girls heads snapped upwards in unison to discover a rugged looking young man staring down at them from the outcropping above. He was a human, and a stranger.

And from his vantage point, he’d already seen more than any human stranger ought to have.

‘You’re fucking
mermaids
!’

Ivyanne’s alarm morphed into something she’d never experienced before and temporarily robbed her of her breath when she saw that his incredulous expression was focused solely on
her
. She inhaled sharply, and his eyes drifted to her chest, drawn by the movement.

Ivyanne stared back, but it was his mouth her gaze fell upon. There was nothing remarkable about it and yet she twitched from her scalp to her flukes, her body overcome with the need to rise and press her own against the human’s, to breathe in deeply of what was so forbidden-so vulnerable and yet so dangerous.

Dangerous. Threat. Secrecy. Siren.
Ivyanne’s tail flicked reflexively as her natural instincts kicked in. She had a problem-and there were only two ways to fix it. And one of those ways was going to be a whole lot of fun.

But before she could beckon to the boy, a gentle humming caused her head to turn. That’s when she saw-and remembered-that she wasn’t alone. Saraya had already vaulted herself up onto a higher rock and was gazing at the boy adoringly.

‘Come here,’ her assistant said, her voice rich and throaty, arching up on the rock in a way that pressed her bare breasts together. And like a soldier reporting to a sergeant, the boy slowly turned to stare at the brunette instead, his expression now confused and openly aroused.

Behind Saraya, Pintang was singing with a secretive and utterly bewitching smile that Ivyanne did not recognize. In fact, Ivyanne could barely recognize either woman in that moment, for they weren’t women-but
creatures
. Beautiful, beguiling and lethal creatures of the sea.

Like her.

Bile rose in Ivyanne’s throat as the reality of what she’d been about to do-kiss a strange boy to rob him of his will and memory and derive pleasure from it-hit her like arctic water. She slipped back down the rock, skin crawling as the human part of her rebelled against the witch.

*

‘
And girl you make it hard to be faithful…
’The sweet voice alerted Tristan to the moment Ivyanne re-entered the house. He jumped her.

‘Come with me,’ he said, wrapping his fingers around her slender arm and dragging her towards the front of the house.

‘What’s going on? Tristan! I’m dripping water everywhere! And wasn’t your flight at lunch? I told Lincoln you were leaving early.’

‘I don’t care.’ Tristan set his jaw turned left in the main hall and hurried Ivyanne into the first door he found. ‘You can’t be parading around the house-Saraya’s got a human in her room!’

‘He’s here?’

Tristan paused once he’d pulled her across the threshold of the room, noticing that he’d dragged her into the library. Only it wasn’t the same library he’d seen in photos- unlike the other rooms, it had been overhauled-and it was
magnificent
.

Someone had installed heavy, black lacquered shelves along one wall that were literally stuffed with books to the ceiling. Purple walls and plush velvet couches contrasted against the cream and stark black. The only piece that seemed out of place was what he recognised to be Ash Court’s old beaten roll top desk near the window. It’s surface was cluttered, a fact made more obvious by the brilliant light streaming in from the window behind it, picking up traces of glowing dust in the air.

‘Um, Tristan?’

Tristan felt a tugging on his arm and looked down to discover that he was still gripping Ivyanne. He yanked her into the room and shut the door behind her, trying to re-arrange his thoughts which was difficult now that he’d been distracted.

‘Sorry,’ he mumbled, locking the door before glancing back over at the shelving, his fingertips twitching to stroke the spines of the books. ‘I was momentarily blinded by the awesomeness that is this room. Did you hire a decorator?’

Ivyanne chuckled. ‘No, I did it myself. I figured it’s the room I’ll be using the most, so I might as well make it reflect me. This and my bedroom, of course. The rest is great as it is.’

Her pleased and proud expression did funny things to his heart. ‘
You
did this? I thought you said you didn’t know what your thing is yet from a design stand point?’

She shrugged. ‘Yeah well, I love purple and books are so much fun to arrange. I wish I had time to read them all though.’ She cast a wistful glance to the shelves. ‘You really like it?’

‘I love you.’ The response was not asked for, but warranted. He couldn’t control it. It was too much a truth to be reigned in.

Ivyanne glanced back at him, eyebrows arched. ‘Tristan I-’ she blushed and shook her head, looking both pleased and incredibly shy. ‘Thank you.’

Tristan smiled, then sank down onto one of the chaises, relinquishing his grip on her arm and staring up at her. ‘So, you
know
about the human?’

‘Yeah.’ Ivyanne seemed hesitant to meet his gaze. She had a towel cinched around her waist and now she tightened it. Tristan wondered if she was unclothed below it and felt his muscles coil, wanting to pounce and tackle her to the chaise behind her, to push his fingers up under the soft terry cloth and find out for himself…

‘…..just a backpacker or something okay?’ Ivyanne was saying. ‘I was with her when she caught him. It was a bit freaky at first, but she and Pintang handled it so I ditched. Now I guess they’re letting him handle
them
.’

‘He shouldn’t be here.’ Tristan said. ‘I can’t believe my uncle allowed it!’

‘Well it’s safer for us inside rather than out. Either way-it’s Garridan’s call.’ Ivyanne shot him a sidelong look, not bothering to mask her irritation. ‘And dangerous or not, I don’t like being dragged around my own house like a puppet, Loveridge. Who’s the monarch around here anyway?’

‘Well..that’s the million dollar question isn’t it?’ He asked, winking. ‘Who the
other
monarch will be, I mean?’

Ivyanne gave him an exasperated look. ‘Is
every
conversation I have with the two of you going to segue into who I’m going to marry? Because if it is, I won’t be inviting you back!’

‘It will, and that’s an empty threat-you’re not
that
cruel.’ Her disregard for her own safety annoyed him. ‘If he saw you in mer form, the poor bastard is going to be star-struck for the rest of his life. If Saraya and Pintang have already erased that part from his memory then good- but it doesn’t mean that you should risk being seen
again
.’

‘Yeah..well…’ Ivyanne sighed and stepped around him, making her way towards her desk. He got up and followed her, unable to let more than a few feet separate them now that he had her alone again.

‘Damn this sucks! Not only is she getting lucky, but now I’m hiding in my own damn house as well!’ She glanced back at him, looking annoyed. ‘What happened with your flight anyway?’

‘Delayed. So you’re stuck with me for another hour or so.’ He sat on the edge of her desk and swung his legs beneath him, smiling knowingly at her. She’d been off swimming for hours probably just to avoid spending time with he and Lincoln, who’d had to leave half an hour beforehand following a phone conversation from Bane that had used the word ‘Roaches’ and ‘Shit’ several times. So now Tristan had her to himself. She didn’t seem happy about it, but he tried not to let that bother him. He was beginning to learn that Ivyanne’s façade of frustration with him wasn’t very thick. She put on a good show, even when they were alone, but she couldn’t disguise her self-consciousness around him. She fiddled and fidgeted, touched her own skin, twirled her hair and blushed-but she rarely actually walked away.

Ivyanne pushed open one of the curtains a fraction more and stared out the window to the expanse of the lawn beyond. ‘Can I ask what Garridan wanted from you and Lincoln this morning?’ She asked. ‘Do you know who the guard is yet?’

Tristan shook his head. ‘Nope. He’s waiting until tonight to draw the names out.’ He glanced down at the papers on her desk. ‘He wanted to give Link and I a gun each for our own protection, which meant signing some fraudulent papers and getting our pictures taken…’ he chuckled. ‘And teaching Link to hold one without peeing his pants.’

Ivyanne cracked a smile. ‘Poor guy. We’re going to completely do his head in with all of this
protect the monarch
stuff.’

Tristan was about to turn and suggest he do
her
head in instead, when he noticed a familiar photograph under a few papers.

‘Nigara!’ he exclaimed, picking up the old print, feeling a warmth spread through him when he recognized the military photo. ‘What’s
this
doing here?’

‘Oh!’ Ivyanne crossed back to the desk and peeked at the photograph. ‘I was going through a box of my old stuff yesterday and found it and thought I should have it framed. Your mother sent it to me back in oh five, when we first got engaged.’

Tristan’s stomach rumbled uncomfortably at that. He’d once been ambivalent at the thought of Nigara becoming betrothed to the princess. Now the idea that they’d entertained even the briefest romantic thought towards the other made him feel ill. He glanced back at the stack and saw a sheaf of old, faded letters, wondering if Ivyanne could hear his panicked heartbeat.

‘Are these letters from
him?
!’

‘No.’ Ivyanne said, picking the papers up and sliding them into the top drawer. ‘They’re mostly from Roan. He used to write to me when we were kids, and then started writing a lot more when we turned sixteen and things became..official.’

‘Looks like he wrote a
book
!’

Ivyanne chuckled. ‘Yes he was a funny thing. The letters are very, well, passionate for someone who barely knew me. I never quite knew how to respond.’

‘But my brother didn’t write you?’

Ivyanne shook her head. ‘Two postcards was all I ever got, right towards the end, saying how he looked forward to meeting me last year. Which never happened.’

Tristan stared at the picture of his brother wistfully, regretting his insecure, violent thoughts. Nigara was much broader than he, with darker hair and deep brown eyes, but their features were close to being identical. ‘I miss him.’

‘I’m sorry.’ Ivyanne said softly. ‘I wish I’d known him.’

‘I’m glad you didn’t.’ Tristan admitted. ‘This would be so much harder for me if I’d thought he loved you.’

‘Yes well as far as I know he had little to no interest in marrying me at all.’

‘Not true.’ Tristan said, handing her the photo. ‘He was reluctant given the girlfriend and son he was going to leave behind, but he’d wanted to be king and make a difference as well.’

An expression of amusement crossed Ivyanne’s pretty features. ‘So it was about the crown?’

‘Mostly. But he was still a man with a pulse.’ Tristan grinned at her. ‘He received a photo of
you
from
your
mother in a Christmas card the year before last and let’s just say..he was seeing the silver lining to the whole ‘marry the mermaid princess’ thing.’ Tristan reached out and stroked her hair tentatively. ‘How could anyone not?’

Ivyanne put the photo into the drawer and closed it quickly after her. ‘Well...hmm.’ She cleared her throat and glanced towards the closed door. ‘I should probably go check and see if the coast is clear yet.’

‘Hang on,’ Tristan took her by the arm. ‘We still need to discuss your little voodoo trick this morning.’

Ivyanne made a face but allowed herself to be pulled back, finally meeting his gaze again. ‘Yeah... about that... thank you for not saying anything.’

‘It’s pretty hard to say something when I have no freaking clue what had happened. Are you a
mystic
, Ivyanne? Have you been hiding that from us all too?’

Ivyanne’s eyes widened. ‘No! I mean, I don’t think so….’ She huffed. ‘I don’t know, okay? I don’t know how or why I do that but it just happens every now and then.’

‘How many times now?’

‘Three.
Two
of which happened this morning.’ Ivyanne held up her hands. ‘Like I said, I don’t get it any more than you do. The first time it happened was at the engagement party. I was coming after Sherri because she was about to crack your head open with a stool. I was a few feet back from her and thought I wouldn’t be able to stop her in time. But I reached out my hand anyway and... and seconds later the stool was in my hand and she was
still
out of reach.’ Her forehead crinkled in thought. ‘I didn’t know if I’d reached it somehow... or if she’d lost her grip and sent it flying...and I didn’t exactly have time to ask.’