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Thoughts of mermenfollow me into my sleep, filling my head with erotic dreams. My current dry spell is obviously messing with my head if just the casual mention of a merman brings that on. Enough so that I’m still thinking about it while I go through my morning routine to get ready for work, an unanticipated needy tingle rushing beneath my skin. I scrub my face with one hand in frustration as I head out.
This is ridiculous.Gods, I need to get laid.
As I key myself in to unlock the library, I mull it over. I can’t even say what the source of my sudden fascination is. I don’t really know much about merfolk. They’re said to be legendary seducers and that mating is often a brutal affair. But with this sudden and peculiar arousal that seems intent on to plague me, my curiosity is likewise roused enough that I suddenly I’m inspired to do a little research on merfolk.
Facts—which are usually far less pleasant than the fantasy surrounding a species—should effectively cool my desire. It usually does the job whenever I’ve been tempted to experiment. Still, I can’t seem to control the reflexive little shiver that runs through me as I hang up my things in the staff room and head into the main building. It takes me little time to light the windowless building and unlock the doors before I can set about reshelving the carts of returns that are waiting for me. A couple of hours later, I finally allow myself into the restricted aquatic species section. There is as little there as I recalled, but I’m surprised to find a narrow volume that I have never seen before. A new acquisition perhaps?
I pull it from the shelf and run my fingers along the old binding. Wherever it’s from, it’s well made. The brown cover doesn’t have a title, just a simple gold mermaid pressed into it. Tucking my prize against my chest, I return to my desk at the front of the library. I’m allowed to have material there as long as I lock up any books or scrolls in the small safe built behind the desk whenever I step away.
Settling in my chair, I don’t immediately open the book but tap a finger on its cover as I look expectantly toward the door just in case someone plans to come barreling through the moment I’ve sat down. When no one does, I finally open it and begin to read.
It opens with a lot of information that I already know regarding the “song” of merfolk and how it’s used to captivate and lure in humans. No mystery there. They’ve often been pointed to as the cause for shipwrecks and human deaths at sea just as often as miraculous rescues. I am surprised, however, to learn that we are one of the few species compatible for merfolk to mate and breed with. This, of course, explains why we are so particularly susceptible to their charms. Not very awesome for humans, I note, considering that they are also predators who historically don’t have a problem with eating us. I suppose that makes us their natural targets in more than one way.
The fact that a merman has been wandering around the city makes me a little more nervous. Not because I’m afraid of people being eaten—that seems like a little too much effort when there’s plenty of food available right there in the sea—but if they are coming on land looking to breed there’s reason to be wary. According to this book, though mermen are susceptible to the song of the females of their species, mermaids in turn are immune to the song of the males. Not very fair, but I guess that means no mermaid risks being assaulted by a male of her own species. That makes humans an easier target than mermaids for mermen.
I’m wondering where the violence comes into mating, and if that’s something I need to warn Adiele about, when I turn the page and feel the blood drain out of my face as I begin to read. The book describes the mating process in detail, but thankfully nothing that I can see being risky to humans when it comes to mermen. While mermaids have been known to steal sailors from capsized ships, mermaids who wish to mate among their own species sing so that they draw large numbers of nearby males to them with their magic—and into direct competition with each other. A very dangerous sort of competition too. Not only are mermen pretty, but they are also highly aggressive. Interested mermen partners engage in combat that fills the water with their drawn blood—all for a chance to be chosen by her.
My brows creep up as I continue reading. It seems almost indecent, like I’m reading something forbidden, as the book explains how, once she chooses her preferred male, he pins her to him—literally. He wraps his arms around her torso, and barbs protract from his arms into her skin so that he injects her body with a chemical that makes her receptive to his seed. Without it, even a female of their own species can go into shock when exposed to his semen. He also pins her in place with his teeth so that she doesn’t move and cause herself pain or injury from his barbs. The penis extrudes, and he wraps his tail around her to tie her to him as they copulate. As potentially uncomfortable as it sounds, I can’t help but feel more than a little fascinated by it as the tingle in my clit gets stronger and my panties grow wet.
I’m flushed by the time I finish reading the chapter, and my entire body is pulsing with need. Better to stop now if this book is having the opposite effect than what I intended. It’s not entirely appropriate for work either. I think I’ve learned enough to decide that there probably isn’t any immediate danger since it seems that the initial mating needs to be in water. Hopefully any sane woman will work out what she’s getting into before actually getting into the water with him. I can mention it to Adiele just in case, but nothing to panic about, thank goodness. It’s only with a small pang of regret that I stow it away to return to the restricted section later.
I don’t exactly need to read more when I have no intention of getting into the water with a merman. I mentally tell my clenching sex to behave and proceed to find another task. Perhaps the alchemy section. The nature and property of plants and implementing their use is a large part of it. I know my cousin Fran has a particular interest in magical and medicinal plants and sells them to other witches and in little remedies, but I’m more fascinated with the way the different properties can be purified and combined to create powerful potions of a strictly occult nature. My thoughts drift pleasantly along this subject matter, glad to be distracted from the subject of mermen and their mating. There is little traffic today, so I’m able to pull a few books on the subject and peruse them to my pleasure during my break. Afterward, I decide to occupy myself by putting in orders for some book loan requests that have come in to their respective occult libraries. By the time I’m done there is a large stack of returns that need to be scanned back into the system, and I’m grateful for the busywork.
I’m about three-quarters of the way through the pile when the bell over the door clangs, and I look up from my work to peer at the couple stepping through the door. My eyebrows fly up in surprise when I see that it is Adiele. Not because she’s with a mind-numbingly beautiful stranger—though I am a little horrified and intrigued by the hot rush of desire I feel when he steps in after her—but because with a business to run, she rarely comes by.
Unfortunately, I’m far too distracted by Adiele’s new friend to be too curious as to why she’s there. I gasp as his magic rolls over me, threading around mine. It is just shy of invasive with how its impact ripples through me, and I can’t pull my eyes off him. Six and a half feet tall, or a little more, and built with miles of beautiful lean, athletic muscle, on the surface he’s every grown woman’s wet dream. My breath stutters out of my lungs as my eyes run over his sculpted abs and chest, wishing that I could use my tongue to follow those perfect lines. Every inch of him is built for lethal power and speed.
And definitely not human.
It’s not because his complexion is the color of flawless marble that gives him away. It’s in the tiny details. It’s the faint iridescent scaled pattern to his skin that catches tiny rainbows of light, the thick mass of iridescent pearl white hair that no dye job can even get close to faking. And the way the bones of his hands are long and strong, each finger is slightly webbed and tipped with a small black claw honed to a razor-sharp edge. For all that his build doesn’t appear bulky, he is easily twice my size. His neck is thickly corded with muscle, the veins drawing the path of my vision up to beautifully ridged webbed ears. His lips are beautifully sculpted, his cheekbones are high and prominent. Without a doubt, he’s a beautiful male. Especially his eyes, which are such an unworldly shade of aquamarine that they are like two chips of stone glowing with the vibrant force of his life.
Eyes that suddenly pin me. I stare back at him, and something pricks at my mind, warning me to look away but I can’t. Awareness slams through with the knowledge of exactly what I’m looking at when his throat pulses and a sound rolls over me as he begins to “sing.”
“Oh, damn!” Adiele immediately sidles away from her companion, casting a wary look between the two of us.
Oh, damn indeed.
Ro
I stiflea resigned sigh at Adiele’s apologetic face. She still hasn’t received the shipment of the supplements my kind needs to spend any length of time on land. Although there is no resisting the pull of the sea for a full day when the moon is full, the supplement helps us with the inconvenience of having to return to the sea after every sundown. Acquiring human legs is the easy part, just a simple enchantment every child learns, but spending time on land is highly stressful to the bodies of Aquanas, or merfolk as humans like to call us.
We can’t spend more than a week out of the water. If we don’t spend a day in the sea for every seven on land, my kind will weaken and die. It is only recently that I’ve discovered that there is a way by means of a supplement witches make.
And not all of them have a pleasant reaction to our presence, such as this coven with which Adiele is trying to make a deal. She is too nice to say that it is because of what I am; I know the reason since my sharp hearing picked up her hushed argument on the phone with the coven when she made the order. The reaction of witches to Aquana males still takes me by surprise.
Granted I didn’t exactly go straight to the witches to begin with, so perhaps there is some reason for them to be suspicious, but Aquanas tend to live very far from places where humans dwell. It is only by chance that I came across a newly mated Selkie a year and a half ago and learned of the new supplements. Fortunately he was happy to trade his supply to me.
But soon after acquiring it I discovered that, despite humanity’s fascination with the females of my species, a male Aquana on land is treated with far more suspicion without knowing anything about us. The idea that we are seducers who prey on women is a double-edged sword. On one hand it seems to make many witches wary, and covens disinclined to help us. On the other, much to my frustration, it tends to attract the more adventurous among witches and seers who are eager to bed one of my kind. Something that has happened in more than one instance since I’ve arrived in the area. Adiele doesn’t seem inclined to do either, which makes me grateful for her friendship.
A shame that the supplement is not something commonly known among all witches. Here I thought it would be easy just to go into any occult shop and purchase more when I ran out. I had foolishly miscalculated that end. So I keep coming back to this shop, hoping for some word about my order while I take time to enjoy the atmosphere.
As with most of my species, I am completely charmed by humans and their magic—and the Emporium reeks of both. It makes me yearn to stay on land even more as I search, even if I have to tolerate the lust that emanates off many females, and some males, when I near them. Even those who cannot penetrate the glamour are afflicted, much to my frustration, and I can’t get away from their little gasps or the poignant scent of their desire. Their unfulfilled fantasies prick at me like the stinging, grasping arms of a jellyfish that I am constantly brushing aside. None of them are the one person who I crave: a female whose magic aligns perfectly with mine and draws me to her.
Despite what human lore says, Aquanas love deeply, though perhaps a little too quickly for humans, and mate for life. In many cases when a sailor is said to have gone missing, a lovestruck Aquana is the root cause. We breed effortlessly with humans, so it is natural that we find mates among them to bring new blood into our lines, and non-breeding pairings are treasured as well. All it takes is the smallest amount of magic in the blood to call to us, but it’s even better when it is a witch ripe with magic. But that is rare for Aquanas to find.
The Emporium is rich with layered, textured scents of their magic and the overwhelming smells of powders and herbs. Entering requires a moment or two to breathe deep and appreciate as this is something I’ve never had the chance to experience while fishing for my pod around our hidden cove. Not that the cove is all that interesting. It is mostly used by the paired Aquanas to rear their families in secluded areas and offers little of interest for adult males and females of breeding age. I was pleased when I finally became of age to leave the pod territory and search for a mate, but after years of searching I’m starting to doubt that I will find one, or that it may be a great many years yet still.
Which is something I know that I should expect, but I am more impatient than most males. I know it is normal for many males to spend their first two centuries traveling the seas, scenting for a female. So I try to remind myself that there is no hurry. That no one expects a young Aquana to mate early. Especially not males, as we are slower to find mates.
