Tangled Tides (The Sea Monster Memoirs) (28 page)

"You swore you would never take sides."

He shook a calloused finger at me. "And I've kept that promise."

"You let Treygan turn her into a mermaid."

"I wasn't here when that happened. I had nothing to do with it."

"They're in love! His emotions could turn her to stone in the blink of an eye."

"I couldn't change what he did. All I could do was make sure she had protection."

"Protection? She's not protected. I've seen them together. He looks at her with so much passion it's a miracle she's not a statue already."

"She has the necklace. She'll be fine."

I squinted at him, trying to figure out his twisted, senile mind. "What necklace?"

"I gave her a necklace containing my good gorgon blood. She's protected from being petrified."

"I've never seen her wearing any necklace."

His fuzzy, white eyebrows lifted. "What?"

"Yara hasn't been wearing a necklace the past few times I've seen her. Mermaid armband, plant hallmarks, wrinkled dresses, yes, but no necklace."

He stood up, bracing himself on the table. "Without the protection of that necklace they could slip up. One heated or intense moment and Treygan could kill her."

His nose and hands twitched a few times as he stared across the kitchen. It was the first time I had ever seen him scared. Then I had an epiphany. "You knew they would fall for each other. Why else would you give her a necklace with good gorgon blood in it?"

"They've loved each other for years. He was in the picture long before you showed up, ever since the night he saved her from drowning—she just never knew who he was."

"Legit? Treygan saved Yara's life?" How did I not know that?

"Do you know how many times I watched her stand in the surf, crying into the ocean? She may not have remembered him saving her, but her soul knew he was out there somewhere." Lloyd fiddled with a plastic hospital bracelet around his wrist. "They were already connected. There's no stopping the bond soul mates share once they've met. Look at you and Vienna."

The mention of Vienna melted my heart. "You really believe Treygan and Yara are soul mates?"

"I know it. But that doesn't mean her life isn't in danger by being with him unprotected."

"They aren't together. The Violets ordered them to be kept apart until the Triple Eighteen. They don't think Yara will go through with their plan now that she's in love with Treygan."

"What are they going to do?"

I leaned against the counter. I didn't want to tell him, but I had to. "Help us with our plan."

"No," Lloyd gasped.

"See, you are taking sides."

"Jack's plan is asinine. I don't understand how he could think killing her is the answer. He used to be much more intelligent."

"He thinks it's the only shot we've got at opening the gate."

Lloyd started limping around the kitchen. "I've got to find her."

"To warn her about us? It's a little too late for that,
Dad
. She's run out of options."

"Rownan, I'm going to need your help."

I laughed. The alcohol must have weakened my defenses. Time to tell the old man the truth. "I came here to ask you for
your
help."

"My help?"

He watched me suspiciously, but for the first time in almost two decades I thought I might say something to make my father proud. "I don't know if I can go through with it. I keep telling Jack I will, but when the time comes, when it's just me and Yara at the gate, I don't think I'll be able to hurt her."

His whole body seemed to relax. He rubbed a hand over his chin and hobbled toward the counter. "Well, then, I'll put another pot of coffee on. It seems we have a long night of planning ahead of us."

T
he sun would be rising in a couple of hours. Delmar and I had been hiding behind some boulders overlooking Pango's house for almost an hour. Delmar insisted we had to wait for the changing of the guards, but I was antsy.

Everything felt wrong: being apart from Yara, Delmar risking his rank to help me, asking guards to look the other way, and the Violets considering the selkies' plan. To make things right within a week seemed impossible, but there had to be a way.

"There are Jalen and Enzo coming for their shift," Delmar said. "We'll be able to go in soon."

"What if they changed their minds?"

"Then we fight."

"Pango and Merrick really don't know we're coming?"

Delmar shook his head, keeping an eye on Jalen and Enzo. "They haven't been out of the house since sunset. I couldn't get a message to them without looking suspicious."

"What does Kimber think about all of this?"

He flashed me a sideways grin. "Who do you think has been watching the house all night?"

"Ugh. Delmar, I don't like her being involved."

"Aw, come on, it's like the good old days when all of us used to get into trouble together. Only now we're working against Rownan instead of with him."

"That was innocent kind of trouble. Who knows how the Violets will react if we get caught."

"Don't worry about that unless it happens." He motioned for me to follow him. "Time to go."

We hurried along the path, hiding in the shadows until we reached the house. Jalen walked away when he sensed us, acting like he needed to do a perimeter check, but Enzo stared at me as we approached him.

"Hit me," he said.

"What?" Delmar and I glanced at each other.

Enzo pointed to his face. "Hit me. And you better lay me out cold. If the Violets question me, I want to be able to say you knocked me out."

"Enzo," I started, "I don't think that's necessary for—"

Before I could finish my sentence Delmar hit Enzo so hard he flew backward, landing unconscious on the ground.

"Delmar, what the hell?"

He shrugged. "Now he can say he never saw it coming, and it won't be a lie."

"He's your friend."

"Right. That's why I did what he asked. Now go get your girl."

He pushed open Pango's front door, but neither one of us were prepared for what we saw: Merrick tied to a chair with a hand towel gagging his mouth and secured with duct tape.

"Well, that's unexpected," Delmar said, shutting the door behind us.

Pango came around the corner holding a martini and wearing an apron that said,
Squeeze me, stomp me, make me wine.
"Hello, gentlemen. May I offer you a drink while the cinnamon buns finish baking?"

I walked over to Merrick who was trying to hop his chair toward us. "Why is Merrick gagged and tied up?"

Pango sipped his drink. "He was being difficult and had to be restrained."

"Difficult about what?"

"Helping you and Yara. He wanted to go to the Violets and tell them everything."

I had just pulled the towel out of Merrick's mouth, but shoved it back in before he could say a word. "Hand me the duct tape."

Merrick groaned and tried kicking me, but Pango had tied him up too tightly.

Delmar put his arm around Pango's broad neck and laughed. "Damn, you two are an entertaining couple."

"Is Yara resting?" I asked.

One of Pango's green eyebrows lifted. He took another sip of his martini and turned toward the kitchen. "Was that the timer dinging?"

"Pango." I drew out the 'o' until he turned around.

He set his glass down. "Fine. Truth be told, she isn't here."

"What do you mean she isn't here? Where is she?"

"She flew the coop."

"Did she go to see Lloyd again?" Delmar asked.

Pango glanced at the ceiling, rocking his head from side-to-side. "Not exactly. Maybe flew the coop wasn't the right choice of words. More like she fled to the nest."

"The sirens' nest!" I shot across the room, ready to throttle him.

Delmar stepped between us. "Hang on, let's hear why. Pango wouldn't tie Merrick up for no good reason."

"Of course I wouldn't. I'm the one who likes to be tied up." Pango blew a kiss at Merrick who grunted through his gag.

I backed away from everyone. My mind was already out the door and speeding through the ocean. I needed to find Yara. "Start explaining, Pango, and do it fast."

"T
echnically, you're my aunt," I told Otabia. "Aren't you obligated to help me? Bound by blood to your dead sister, or something?"

Otabia circled the sunken living room where Nixie and I sat together. Every ten seconds Otabia would let out an ear-piercing shriek. Her constant twitching made her black bangs swing over her-fast blinking eyes. It was a little scary and a lot disturbing.

"Are you okay?" I asked her.

Nixie had her head in my lap, twirling the ends of my hair around her fingers. "She's hungry and mobbing you."

"Mobbing me?"

"This is her normal feeding time, and your unexpected visit has her on the defensive. It's her natural instinct to treat you like a predator. She wants you to leave our nest."

"But you're fine with me being here?"

"I think you being here is a good thing." Nixie's shimmering, red hair tickled my legs every time she moved her head. Her sisters intimidated me, but something about her comforted me.

"Why are you so nice to me, but she," I glanced up at Otabia, "seems to hate me."

Nixie's ruby eyes illuminated with joy. "I owe my life to your mother. No other water sprite in all of history has been promoted to a siren. I might have died like the rest of them if she hadn't chosen me as her replacement." The burgundy toenails of her bare foot pointed at Otabia. "She and Mariza have always been sirens. They're just bitter because Cleo chose to leave them and be human."

A white heron had been perched quietly on a windowsill, but squawked obnoxiously when Mariza flew into the room. Her brown wings flapped so hard my hair blew into my face.

Otabia let out another high-pitched shriek. "Useless harpy! I've been calling to you for an hour. Where have you been?"

"Call me a harpy again," Mariza threatened, "and I will pluck all of your feathers out."

Otabia continued circling. Mariza looked me up and down and started blinking fast too. She followed her sister at a slower pace around the room.

"I came here for help," I explained. "I just want answers."

"You want answers?" Otabia hissed. "Fine! I possess them, but you'll have to drink from me to learn the truth."

I swallowed hard.

"You should take her up on it," Nixie said, running her nails along my neck. "She might not offer again."

I promised Treygan I would never drink blood, but when I told the sirens I suspected the merfolk and selkies' plans were wrong, they didn't deny it. If Otabia was offering me a chance to save my life and Treygan's, then wouldn't it be worth drinking a little blood?

"Okay," I muttered.

The heron flew into the room. The torches burst into roaring flames. Nixie shot up from my lap. Mariza and Otabia moved so fast they were a blur of brown and black. Suddenly, all three sisters were within an inch of my face, pupils dilating and heads bobbing while they made clicking noises with their tongues.

Otabia strutted in place and spread her wings, snapping her teeth at Nixie and Mariza until they backed away. "Mine. She's mine, hags. Buzzard off!"

Otabia grabbed my wrists and yanked me to my feet. Her fingers felt hard and crusty, and her thumb nail pierced my skin. I looked down. Her fingers were talons, curved, ugly and dangerous. Blood trickled down my arm.

Nixie and Mariza sang, their wings quivering. Why did I agree to this? I had a sickening feeling that I might be dead within minutes.

"First, I drink from you." Otabia licked her charcoal lips. "Otherwise I'll be too famished to share."

The other sisters laughed. I figured she was lying, but I was in no position to argue. The pain in my wrists got worse the longer she held onto me. "Fine."

Otabia's wings wrapped around us so fast I didn't have time to see Nixie and Mariza's reaction. We were enclosed in total darkness. The other sisters chirped frantically outside the wall of Otabia's wings, but I focused on her guttural breaths.

"You better share a dreadful memory," she purred. "Sadness, misery, that's what I want from you."

I couldn't see anything. Not her face, her eyes, nothing—only blackness. "How about the night my mother died?"

She loosened her grip on one of my wrists. Her wet tongue eased the burning sensation, but then her teeth sank into my flesh and I cried out in pain. My yelling faded away as she sucked warmth from my wrist and we spun through cold darkness.

I relived the night my mother died.

T
he stars weren't shining. I was sitting on the porch swing, kicking my small, bare feet back and forth so the swing would keep rocking. Crickets chirped frantically when a wind blew through the palm trees. A pinkish fog crawled closer to me, bending the grass in its path, causing the metal wind chimes to tinkle as the breeze reached the porch. I closed my eyes as it blew over my face, swirling my hair up into the air like it might carry me away. Then it whistled softly, continuing past me through the screen door and into the house.

"Pretty," I said.

The crickets fell silent. I could sense them crouched out in the grass, watching me with their tiny eyes, waiting. A sense of
wrongness
crept over me.

I slid off the swing as slowly as I could, trying not to disturb the eerie silence that had fallen over our yard. I tiptoed to the screen door and peered inside. When I pulled the handle the hinges squeaked so loudly my ears rang.

I held onto the banister and took the first step up the stairs, climbing one inch at a time, hoping if I moved slow enough my fears wouldn't come true. Even as an eight-year-old kid, I knew. Long before I cleared the last step and stared down our hallway to my mother's bedroom, I knew.

A firefly lit up outside the bedroom door. I wondered if the crickets asked it to fly in and watch me since they couldn't see me from the yard. I walked forward, moving at a snail's pace. If I looked behind me I was sure I would see a slimy trail of heartache smeared along the floor.

The firefly lit up again. It was in my mother's room. She would have yelled for me to get rid of it if she was awake, but my mother didn't yell. She didn't stir at all. I stood on the threshold of her room for six swallows. My mouth felt so dry I pretended each gulp contained the cherry Kool-Aid I had drank with dinner at Uncle Lloyd's house. The firefly twinkled. Outside, the crickets stayed silent. A floorboard creaked as I stepped into my mother's room.

She stared ahead, the same way she used to do every night on our back porch. Her eyes were always wide and unblinking, seeing something in the water that I could never see and mumbling about my father. I had asked her what she saw once and she answered, "Heaven."

My uncle had told me Heaven was where people went when they died, so I figured my father was out in the ocean, in some part of it called Heaven. That's why my mom stared at it so much. Now she was staring at the ceiling the same way, but I knew my father wasn't up there.