Read with BonusRead with Bonus

Chapter 7

He rears back, letting out a guttural sound that reverberates through the water, sending a chill down my spine. The lights above flicker, casting eerie shadows on the walls as the storm outside rages on, adding to the chaos.

He starts sliding backward into the tank, his powerful form displacing the water with a violent splash. Unfortunately, his grip on my calf doesn’t release. As he goes unconscious, I feel myself being pulled along with him.

Panic surges through me as I’m yanked off my feet, the cold water swallowing me whole. The shock of the plunge hits me like a physical blow, the icy liquid stealing my breath. I thrash wildly, trying to break free, but his grip is unyielding. I’m dragged down, deeper and deeper, the tank’s dimly lit walls closing in around us.

I sink to the bottom of the tank with the massive, incapacitated creature. The weight of his body presses down on me, pinning me to the tank floor. Instinct kicks in, and panic flares up. My chest tightens as my lungs scream for air, the cold water numbing my limbs. The distant roar of the ship’s engines and the muffled sounds of the storm are barely audible through the water, creating a surreal, nightmarish atmosphere.

I force myself to remember my dive training. Stay calm, I remind myself, fighting the urge to hyperventilate.

I close my eyes for a moment, focusing on my training, the drills I’ve practiced countless times. Slowly, I regain control of my breathing, calming the frantic beat of my heart.

I open my eyes and look down at the merman, who now appears almost serene in his unconscious state. His grip on my calf loosens, and I seize the moment to free myself. Kicking off the bottom, I propel myself upward, my hands clawing through the water.

The surface seems impossibly far away, the faint glow of the overhead lights my only guide. My lungs burn, and my vision starts to blur around the edges. With a final, desperate push, I break through the surface, gasping for air. The rush of oxygen fills my lungs, and I cough violently, expelling the water I swallowed.

I pull myself out of the tank, my limbs trembling with exhaustion. I brace my hands on my knees, sucking in deep breaths as I try to steady myself, my mind reeling from the incredibly intimate moment we’d just had. Or, rather, that I’d just had.

A wave of mortification makes my stomach constrict, but I force myself to think logically about the… incident. From what I can tell, the merman was reacting on instinct, drawn to the scent of my unintentional arousal like a shark to blood in the water. The thought sends a shiver down my spine.

Speaking of sharks, I remember the gash in his arm. It needs to be treated.

“Shake it off, Phoebe,” I mutter to myself. “Start acting like a gosh darn scientist.”

I shove my wet jeans down my legs, kicking them off before making a quick dash to the nearest dive box. I grab a first-aid kit and fasten a mini dive respirator around my mouth. I hesitate, then grab an extra syringe, one with an even more powerful sedative than what’s in the tranquilizer darts. It’s the same cocktail Stan ordered me to inject the merman with when we first captured him. I know it will knock him out until morning if I have to use it.

I glance at the syringe in my hand, the powerful sedative a last resort if things go sideways again. I’m determined to avoid using it if I can. I want to build trust, not fear.

I dive back into the tank, the cold water enveloping me as I swim down to where the merman lies at the bottom. His eyes are closed, his features relaxed in sleep. Up close, he looks almost peaceful, but I know better than to let my guard down.

He looks almost peaceful, with faint air bubbles escaping from nearly imperceptible gills along either side of his neck. I remind myself I’m a researcher, a scientist. What happened between us was sexual, but only by happenstance—a natural byproduct of a chaotic new encounter. For all I know, it could be how merfolk greet one another.

If I read into it more than that, then I’m as fanciful and childish as Stan accuses me of being.

Steeling myself, I hunker down and straddle the unconscious merman’s hips, anchoring myself by hooking my feet beneath the lead-like weight of his tail. I examine the wound on his arm, shocked and fascinated to find it’s completely stopped bleeding.

His blood must have advanced coagulant properties, I hypothesize. Or perhaps it’s in his saliva, like most mammals?

My gaze roves over the regal planes of his face, and I notice that his olive skin has an almost pearlescent sheen to it underneath the water. Just how much of you is like me? I wonder, And how much of you is…not?

I run my fingers over the wound, feeling something hard. Taking a pair of tweezers from the first-aid kit, I retrieve what turns out to be a shark tooth. The merman twitches. Knowing the sedative in the darts isn’t that strong, I assume he’s waking up. Usually, it takes a while, but suddenly, he’s fully alert all at once.

His hand snaps out and grabs me by the throat. I react instinctively, raising the syringe over his arm threateningly. His eyes narrow at the sight of it, and I know he recognizes it. Slowly, he lowers his arm. We eye each other warily.

Careful not to startle him, I show him the shark tooth. If I’m right—and I usually am about these things—it’s a Great White molar. His dark eyes flick down to his wounded arm and then, with a smirk, he pats his stomach. My eyes widen. He ate a Great White shark, I realize.

Remarkably, it doesn’t even show—his abdomen, coated with rippling muscles, isn’t the least bit distended.

Without thinking, I reach out to skim the spot where his belly button would be if he were human. Instead, the skin gradually fades into reddish-black scales. A low rumble begins to vibrate the water around us. My head whips up as I look around for the source. Just as I start to move, the merman grabs my hand, and I realize too late the subsonic frequency is coming from him.

And, whatever transpired between us before, it isn’t over.

Previous Chapter
Next Chapter