“What happened?”
“My siren summoned a whirlpool, and it was rather powerful. You might have noticed it?” Tristan’s tone was light.
The smudges were scrapes. “I hurt you.”
“Ichose to ignore your warning to leave you alone.”
“Leave me alone to drown? With a broken leg?” Austin cradled Tristan’s face gently. The merman didn’t so much as flinch even as Austin’s palms brushed injured skin. Instead, he leaned into his touch. “Despite everything…” Austin’s voice caught. “I don’t think it’s the ending I deserve.”
He kissed Tristan.
“Certainly not deserved,” Tristan grumbled into Austin’s mouth.
When they parted, Austin hugged the merman, his face buried in his sandy hair. Salt water lapped against his chin, and Austin’s awareness spread to his surroundings. Tristan had guided them away from the shore, where swells large enough tocapsize a small boat lifted them harmlessly up and down in a gentle rocking motion. Currents pulled at them, but Tristan’s tail swished to hold them in position.
When lifted by the swells, Austin saw the blue glow of the estate in the distance. Shafts of moonlight pierced the grey clouds and lit the violently whirling ocean. A tremor of apprehension seized Austin, and his eyes widened. A whirlpool. Not just an underwater one, but a violent, churning mass of seawater that spun on the surface as if Charybdis had come forth from her myth to wreak havoc.
Tristan cupped the back of Austin’s head, fingers massaging his nape and the base of his skull. “Your power is impressive.” Unmistakable pride warmed his voice. “When you told me you could command the ocean, this is not quite what I envisioned. Not even the greatest siren I heard about ever commanded the elements.”
Austin’s horror at the monster in the bay lessened. He pulled back enough to examine Tristan’s face, squinting, trying to see whether it matched the pride in his voice. “You don’t think I’m a monster? Even seeing this?”
Tristan gently tucked wet strands of hair behind Austin’s ear, and then he leaned in to nuzzle his cheek. “You’re a powerful merman. No more a monster than I, or my brother.”
“I could ruin you if I wanted to. You think you can resist my voice, but you can’t. Being in the splash zone isn’t the same as being the target.”
“I could ruin Hal,” Tristan said. “That doesn’t mean I ever would.”
The feeling of being watched prickled up Austin’s spine. He turned sharply and saw the upper halves of two shadowy mermen heads peering at him from a mere arm’s length away. They chuffed out odd, friendly sounds.
Austin’s grip tightened on Tristan.
Tristan held him securely. “It’s Bee and Dew.”
Their heads tilted into the water, looking pointedly in the direction of Tristan’s tail.
Austin glared at them. “What do you want? Did Laurence send you?” He knew they were a bunch of co-conspirators.
They replied with negative huffs.
Tristan looked down into the water as well. “If you would tolerate their presence this once, their guidance would be useful to me. Northern merfolk don’t polish their scales like southerners do, so I have never learned how.”
“Oh.” Austin only recalled Tristan’s scales as glittering and bright. “Okay.”
“Thank you.”
“I’ll help.” Austin pushed back from Tristan and peered into the water. “Did it get dirty in the whirlpool?”
Tristan’s green tail blended with the surrounding ocean water well enough. The grey tail swishing in perfect sync with it did not. Austin stared in shock, reaching abruptly for his abdomen, sliding his hand down to find—scales.
“Oh God.”
Further cursing was swallowed by the ocean as he thrust his face into the water to see without the distortion.
A tail connected to his body where his legs should be. It came up far, far shorter than Tristan’s—matching in length and size more closely to Dew’s pale blue tail when he swam in, circling Austin, examining him. Austin did not have broad flukes. Instead his tail forked, lined with spines like a caudal fin of a fish tail, so flexible it cupped water like a parachute catching wind. His tail was not a wall of solid scales like the others, either. Decorative, spined fins ran down both sides, pectoral fins that fluttered like flags of silk.
He twisted, peering at his back where a matching dorsal fin ran down the back line of his tail, sweeping out at the start, then narrowing to an elegant finish where his caudal fin began.
Bee darted to the ocean floor and grabbed handfuls of sand, offering a clump to Dew. Overwhelmed with shock, Austin watched in a daze as Dew pressed the sand to his tail and began to gently rub in small circles. The muscle beneath his hand released a measure of tension, heightening Austin’s awareness of how naturally he could feel his tail. He could flex the length of it as he would his arm, and the fins moved as if he were twitching an incredibly flexible finger.
