Page 59 of Storm and Sea

“Atreus!”

Nephi stiffened as an unfamiliar voice approached.

“Atreus, where’d you go?”

A figure jogged to them, feet light on the sand. Nephi’s eyes widened, and his breath caught in his lungs. He tried to pull air through his gills but realized he had none and inhaled sharply through his nose.

It’s him.

All the days he’d followed Nyel, Nephi secretly hoped to run into him—the human with curly blond hair, amber skin, and a full lower lip. For a second, it was Ludo who jogged to him, all vibrant smiles and alive with each footprint he left in the sand.

The dimples are the same.

Once again, the illusion was broken when the young man turned his eyes to Nephi. They were yellow, not silver.

Not my Ludo.

Yet no matter how much he told himself that, visions of this human continued to haunt Nephi. And now he was right in front of him.

Don’t panic. He doesn’t know who you are.

Nephi was in his Mer form when he saved the boy and was likely written off as a delirious dream. Despite himself, Nephi pulled up his hood, hiding the right side of his face.

“Hey, Atreus, I’ve been meaning to talk to you, but if now’s a bad time...” The human glanced at Nephi with curiosity.

“Leo, I’ll meet you at the docks in a minute,” Atreus said, his voice stern as he watched Nephi for any signs of an attack.

His name is Leo. Leo. Ludo. Leo. Ludo.

Even the names blurred in his mind. Without a word, Nephi turned on his heel and stalked away. He’d said what he needed to say. Now, he had to get the hell out of there before he did something he’d regret.

Damn you, Ludo.

But it wasn’t Ludo’s silver eyes now burrowing deeper and deeper into his psyche.

“Leo,” he said out loud, tasting the name. It was so similar yet different. Acid bubbled in his chest. How dare a human take the face of his Ludo? How dare a human with such striking similarities breathe the same air? How dare he show his face to Nephi after all he’d lost?

Maybe I’ll have him before I go. Or maybe I’ll drag him to the ocean floor where he belongs.

Leo’s head throbbed as his eyes struggled to blink into focus. The sterile scent of antiseptic filled the air, and the faint hum of machinery droned in his skull. The harsh white lights and beeping monitors only heightened his disorientation.

It took him an hour of pestering the nursing staff with pointless questions before the pieces finally clicked, and he remembered how he’d ended up in the hospital. But when the memories returned, they were a blur of wind and waves and… scales.

“You signed the AMA?”

“Yes, can I go already?” Leo barked at the doctor. He’d already spent too much time in a hospital bed.

“I don’t recommend it.”

“Yes, hence the AMA. Against Medical Advice. I get it.”

“Don’t strain yourself. If you start to feel dizzy or have a lapse in memory, come right back.”

“Sure,” Leo said, knowing he’d do no such thing.

The pretty boy doctor was annoying as hell.

As he descended the hill, the smell of rain still lingered in the air, though the storm had passed. The storm that took the Vino Rosso and nearly took his life. Leo bit the inside of his cheek hard enough to draw blood. He wouldn’t cry over a stupid boat. But the Vino Rosso, with her rusted hull and failing engine, was like a second home. He grew up on that boat. She’d provided for their family since before he was born. And now, because of his stupidity, she was at the bottom of the bay.