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“You can’t know what I saw.” The man – Brentwood – rasps his words, his voice tight with terror. “You find someone else, Mr. Marlowe. That’s no sweet-sixteen beauty queen you’re facing off against. She’s a cold-blooded killer.”
Mackenzie
Gabriel has the Uber driver drop us off at the docks. Not the cool, hip docks on the south end of the boardwalk with all the restaurants and clubs, but the creepy, abandoned docks with the rotting boards and gross fish smell and spiders.
“Where are we going?” My foot slips on the wet boards. I grab hold of Gabriel before I go flying. “I said I wanted to party, not get stoned in a smelly fish graveyard.”
“You’ll see.” Gabriel leads me down a set of dingy steps. Waves lap at the pier on either side of us. I can see a weird light glowing beneath the water.
Goosebumps rise on my arms. This is just the kind of spot a serial killer would take me before he cuts out my heart and turns my tits into a pompom hat.
Gabriel gives three short raps on an enormous steel door. A small hatch slides open, and I can just make out a pair of glitter-soaked eyes beyond. Gabriel leans close and whispers, “Mermaid.” The door swings open, revealing a narrow, steep set of stairs heading down. The woman is nowhere to be seen.
A prickle of excitement mixed with fear rattles in my chest. We clamber down the steps, down, down, down into the darkness, feeling our way, bumping into each other in our blindness. There’s an oppressiveness to this place. The walls feel heavy, the air damp. We must be under the waterline, although it’s impossible to tell as there’s no light, no indication of depth.
Light pricks the gloom, and from somewhere in this strange space, a relentless thrum, like a heartbeat, trembles through the walls. My feet touch a floor that sways gently. Maybe I’m already drunk. Maybe I’m drunk on Gabriel Fallen.
Gabriel leads me down another narrow hallway. The thrumming grows louder. He pushes aside a curtain, and I gasp.
This is impossible.
I stand in a room half the size of a football field, lit by hundreds of glowing lanterns that seem to float between the booths and tables, moving of their own accord. A girl in a glittering bird costume performs acrobatic feats from a crescent-moon-shaped swing in the center of the room. There’s not a smooth surface in the place – columns twist up into the blackness, supporting a ceiling so high I cannot see it. The walls are gnarled with rock formations and coral growth, revealing wide openings of glass that look out into the water beyond.
It’s like I’ve stepped into some magical alternative universe.
Gabriel leads me to a bar shaped like a conch shell and hands me the cocktail list. I’m too giddy with the joy of this place to decide what to have, so I tell the bartender to make us something fruity and delicious.
The bartender hands us our drinks. They’re in glasses encrusted with glittering jewels and hundreds of tiny shells, and on top is a delicate sculpture of a mermaid tail made from sugar diving into the emerald alcohol. It’s almost too perfect to drink, but I take a sip anyway. It tastes like blueberry sherbet.
We take an empty booth in the corner, sipping our drinks and watching the dancer. When she finishes her act, the bobbing lanterns float up to the ceiling, and three musicians emerge from the murky depths of the room and carry instruments onto a narrow stage – some kind of stringed thing, drums, a weird double-barreled flute. The music isn’t like other club music – it’s ethereal, hypnotic, with a beat that matches my heart. As if in a trance, every patron of the club moves toward the dance floor.
“Feel like shaking that shaggable arse?” Gabriel grins. I let him take my hand. He holds it aloft, his fingers just grazing my skin, and I feel like a queen.
Tonight, I’m his queen.
The music pounds through me, and I’m not in Emerald Beach any longer. I’m a mermaid in an underwater palace with a prince on my arm. Gabriel leads me to the center of the floor. We grind against each other, our bodies moving as one while others twist and undulate around us. Gabriel’s hands are all over me – sliding in my hair, skimming my hips, cupping my chin, brushing the edge of my breast until I can’t stand it anymore. He moves like the music he writes – breathless and beautiful, singing the stars against my skin.
“This night doesn’t have to end,” Gabriel’s eyes burn into mine. “There are rooms upstairs.”
My heart stutters. I know what he’s asking.
Gabriel’s playboy ways are notorious, but he doesn’t know I’m a virgin. Well, maybe he can guess. I’ve been living alone since I was thirteen – not exactly the prime environment to get my freak on. And as hard as I’ve tried to hold Gabriel at arms’ length – for his safety, for mine – I came to this club with him tonight with the hum of anticipation building between my legs.
All I want is to exist in this magical place a little longer. I want to lie in the arms of a beautiful boy whose words and music touch my soul, and believe that I deserve a fleeting moment of happiness. I want to tear down the shield wall I carry to protect myself, and embrace my enemy.
Embrace the darkness that lives in my heart.
Embrace the boy who sings of blood and rain.
I smile, and that smile reaches all the way to my toes, all the way to the edges of my soul. “You’re on.”
Eli
I manage to spend three hours in bed, staring at the ceiling with Gizmo jabbing my eyeballs, before I can’t take it any longer.
What the fuck am I doing?
Why did I let them go on their own?
