Page 176 of Storm and Sea

He could have told me.

Leo let himself feel betrayed for the first time.

He could have trusted me.

But it was clearer now more than ever that Atreus trusted nobody. Leo had confided in Atreus about his dreams. He’d opened up, but his friend had said nothing, brushing it off with a, “Don’t think about it. Move on.” The response hurt like a fishhook lodged in his heart, each tug sending fresh waves of pain.

An intense clarity struck him like a lightning bolt, illuminating a distant memory. Goosebumps prickled along Leo’s skin, and a sour taste crept into his mouth.

Green and scarlet scales. Fangs. Slitted eyes.

Mer.

A Mer had saved him that day.

Leo gripped his curls until they were painful. There was too much swimming in his head. Worry over his family and fear over what Alvise might do to him had pushed all else from his mind. He hadn’t thought of his miraculous survival in weeks. And now… it all made sense.

“It all makes fucking sense,” he spat, throwing a stone into the waves.

When distant gasps filled the air, Leo’s head shot up in time to see a figure rise from the water. He recognized Nyel’s clothes right away, but not the being wearing them. Of course, it was Nyel. The Mer had the same skip to his step, the same swing in his arms.

Leo’s chest clenched painfully.

He couldn’t hear what they were saying, but soon Nyel was diving back into the waves. And when he emerged a second time, he wasn’t alone. Over two dozen Mer poked their heads from the water, their muddy green fins floating around them like seaweed.

A part of Leo hadn’t believed it. Or at least, had convinced himself that Atreus and Nyel were the only ones. But there they were, a whole community of them, right under their noses.

Most of the Mer remained chest-deep in the water, except a large male who joined Nyel on the beach. He shook hands with the mayor, who looked ready to faint.

An acrid smell of smoke and spice filled Leo’s nose.

“When my man reported this to me a few hours ago, I nearly had him shot for spinning fables.”

Alvise leaned against his rock, his head just below where Leo’s foot hung. Instinctively, he pulled his knees up.

“I had to see it for myself.” Alvise blew out another heavy puff from the thick cigar. He gestured to the Mer, a few of which were getting brave enough to walk closer to the beach. There were two women (or Leo assumed so because of their dresses) with the same scale and color as Nyel. They were the first to surface. They looked like minnows, ready to bolt at the slightest sign of danger. One of the women held a baby close to her chest. The infant cried softly, the sound so familiar and normal when there was nothing normal about this situation.

“Beautiful. Absolutely beautiful.” Alvise said, and Leo hated the gleam in his eye.

He’d seen it before. Directed at him and the other beautiful people Alvise collected at his estate. And as each of the Mer surfaced, taking turns to shake hands with humans, the gleam grew into something far more terrifying.

It was devouring.

It was hungry.

It was a terrible greed that would stop at nothing to sate its desires.

Leo shivered, praying those eyes wouldn’t turn on him. But they already had, hadn’t they? Leo had already become one of Alvise’s many collectibles.

“I especially like that small minty one,” Alvise said, pointing with the ember bud of the cigar.

Leo squeezed his eyes shut. He didn’t need to look to know who’d caught Alvise’s deadly gaze. The same Mer had caught Leo’s attention, too, after all.

“My men reported a blueish one, too. I don’t see it.”

Leo stayed quiet.

“Where is he?”