Page 53 of Seduced By the Mermen
“It was an idea. More than just you had it.” Zion folds his hands on the table.
“It’s a long time ago. She—” Delmar’s going to ramble on.
“Poseidon! You think I’m going on about... Fuck you. Fuck the lot of you. This has nothing to do with her.” I rip Delmar’s arm from my shirt and shove him. His feet don’t move. Even more shocking, he doesn’t even sway.
“Her?” Alexei’s eyebrows raise. “Say her name then, Sterling. Anya, her name was Anya.”
“Fuck you.” I pivot out of the room, stepping around Delmar. I could have checked his shoulder, but I leave him in place.
I stomp down the corridor, and I end up going the wrong way. Instead of taking the hall that leads to our offices, I’m heading toward the bedrooms. And I pause. There are three options this way: The pod room—no way I’m going to head in there. If I’d slept last night, I’d say to hell with it and just stay up. As much as I don’t want to go to the Feast of Liberisca tomorrow, the threats against Blair are real and imminent. Yes, most males in the Veiled City treat females with the greatest respect. But kidnapping and forced mating of mermaids has happened more than is talked about in the upper circles of elites. The second room was Anya’s dressing room. There’s nothing of her left in there now. It’s been scrubbed clean of her scent, and her things are gone. Still, I’m not sleeping in there either.
I push open the door to the guest room. The intended nursery of the flat. The bed’s clean and the sheets pulled tight to Rodgers’s standards. I close the door with a light click. I toss my shoes to the side, place my block on the nightstand, and lie down on top of the covers.
In my younger days, I could go three or four days without sleep. Now, more than one and my reaction time drops. Nowhere in me is there any intention or interest in mating Blair. That doesn’t mean I would ever want to see any harm come to her.
My head hits the pillow, and the sweet lavender scent of Blair is still here. I toss the pillow on the floor, and the back of my head hits the mattress. It’s still there, like the mattress has been infused with her essence. Crisp, fresh, like well-laundered clothes. Perhaps it’s not her scent but rather the laundered sheets. I lift my shirt and inhale and tug at the sheets pinned underneath me. Not the same. Even with my sandy musk, I can tell it’s not the same. It’s her.
I suck in a breath from the sheets. Is it the smartest? No. Does my dick harden even though I don’t want it to? Yes.
“We’re in position,” a voice buzzes in my ear. It’s Hunter, the newest on this team of males who are used to working on their own.
“The podlets aren’t even here yet,” Stewart responds from his position next to the airlock on the back of the building.
“Preparation is the key to a successful mission. Did you talk to the headmaster about the display?” I ask. I haven’t been to this grammar school for seven years. I mostly avoided coming to anything for any of my brother’s podlets. They’re older. The last time I was here, it was for one of their graduations. But when my sister, Celeste’s, kids were old enough to be here, they didn’t expect me to come, and I didn’t volunteer. I’m a shitty brother and a horrible uncle. Because, fuck, I’m not even sure if Lyra, her youngest, is even still here.
My eyes scan the back of the auditorium where there’s an art display. Preparation. I need to listen to my own advice. My heels click from the front of the stage, where two nervous junior teachers are debating the position of the microphones, to the back of the auditorium.
When I see the tall display boards of student work in the back of the room, my first reaction is to get the headmaster to move them. They block the view of the back quarter of the room. I send Hunter to talk to the male.
“On my way there now,” Hunter says.
I pace out the back of the room, and I’m checking the exits again when Hunter’s coming through my comm. “The headmaster refuses to have them moved. Tradition, and some other sort of rotten shrimp shells.”
But that’s ridiculous. I take long strides into the corridor. “On the move. To the headmaster’s office.” I adjust the mic behind my ear. With the security council in more friendly hands, there’s been a good portion of useful tech being passed around to other groups. Things I would normally have to hide, I can show in the Veiled City now.
“He’s not going to budge. He was overly salty with us wanting to be in the school dome so early.”
“Heard. I have years more expertise at this sort of thing, Hunter.”
“Your time. I look forward to hearing what he has to say.” Hunter’s voice drips with sarcasm.
The corridors of the building are wide and haven’t changed since my last visit. A hissing echoes around the hall. I turn toward it. The airlocks sound their age. This dome needs to go. It’s old and outdated.
Up ahead, there’s a tidal wave of small wet feet slapping the terrazzo flooring. I’m drowning up to my waist in small podlets, and behind them is a surge of parents dressed in their best dome colors. Mermaids with their pods. Shouts of “Slow down,” “Wait for me,” and “Antonio, where did you go?” clash around me. But it all thuds away when a certain pair of green-gray eyes and a tower of dark brown braids catch me before I can turn. When did my sister start looking so much like our mother?
“Sterling!” Her wide smile tells me I’m going to have to do some rather swift thinking. Grunting and avoidance do not work with Celeste.
Chapter 23
Blair
“Are you sure we should go?” I whisper to Annabelle. Across the room, Holter’s head snaps to me. When Delmar contacted me yesterday and asked if I would come see his students perform a play about the freedom of the Dorian people, I was honored and “yes” came out of me fast enough that I didn’t stop and think about what I was agreeing to. There’s going to be a lot of people there. Children, podlets. Podlets and their parents.
“Don’t say that too loudly, Aunt Blair. Nico will pull the net in around your little outing if you give him a hint you might not want to go,” Holter says.
“We only have to go if you want to.” Annabelle squeezes my hand. When did she become the one looking out for me?
“Right, well, yes. It sounds like it will be adorable. I always loved going to Marlee’s and Annabelle’s school events. This will be fun.” Fun, patriotic. I love the Fourth of July.
