 
### Heart Above the Sea

by Christina Byus

Smashwords Edition

Copyright 2012 Christina Byus

This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are either a product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

Smashwords Edition, License Notes

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you're reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

### Chapter One

Wading in the cool waters by the shore, I wait patiently for the sun to set. It is the night of the Vernal Equinox, the start of spring. For two entire months I will have legs and the ability to walk on dry land. My tail fin flicks in excitement, propelling my body back, away from the golden sandy beach. I quickly recover the distance, watching the reds, oranges, and yellows of the sky darken. The sphere of fire, named by humans as the sun, has nearly disappeared over the horizon.

Our kind has been dangerously close to extinction as of late, only a few thousand of us currently roam the seas. A hundred years ago we thrived in the millions, but due to numerous oil spills, severe pollution, and over fishing, our numbers have significantly decreased.

I'm a mermaid. Yes, fish-like from the hip down, human above that. But, for two incredible months a year my kind can walk on land, which, as one can imagine, is both dangerous and exhilarating. No one knows if this anomaly is the result of a curse or if it is our natural fate. I only know that I wait on shark teeth for the night of the Vernal Equinox, for our initiation on to dry earth.

At full dark our fins painfully split, becoming shapely legs. Minutes of agony are well worth the two months of dry freedom, a conversion befitting the fairytale.

I wince at the first signs of the transformation. One would think that in my eighteenth year I would be used to the pain. The slick scales of my lower half begin to feel tight, like being stretched in a human vise. Diving under to prevent from making any noise above the surface, I brace myself for the oncoming pain. Butterfly fish in my stomach flutter uneasily, the hard part has begun.

Beneath the waves I scream helplessly, my fin is in two, torn harshly down the middle of my iridescent scales. I can feel the now jagged pieces stitch themselves together to form two long shapes. My legs are close to complete. The scales retract to reveal smooth skin, the bottom edge of my fin tears apart to become toes, each little cut like scraping against rough coral.

After a moment to recover, my legs are pumping. I swim to the shore, exerting more energy than ever with my fin. My new legs are unstable in the wet sand. Sinking into the land, I must adjust to walking again. My naked human body wobbles across the beach, dry sand clinging to my moist skin.

Long ago merpeople found that it was easier to hide a set of dry clothes along the beach where we take to the land rather than attempt to walk inland nude. Human's can be quite unaccepting of nakedness in public, and clothing itself doesn't tend hold well under water for long, and when it does it can be very uncomfortable waiting for wet cloth to dry.

I locate my stash under several large rocks, a pair of cutoff jean shorts, pale pink cotton boy-short panties, a white sports bra, and a ribbed gray tank top. No shoes, I like the feel of the earth between my toes. My waist-length hair instantly soaks the tank and sports bra down the back with sea water. I pull my coconut locks to the side, squeezing and twisting to wring out any excess water. I flip the damp twist back and shake it out, heading in the direction of the place I call home for two months out of the year.

Many equinoxes ago my family purchased a beach house along the coast of Maryland in the small town of Paradise Lily. My dad saved for forty years to buy us the two story yellow home. The house stands on stilts embedded into the hard earth, butted up against the sand. Various odd jobs he'd taken in the months on land earned him the right to residency. Most merpeople work to purchase homes on land, it's far easier than wandering around aimlessly for the months out of sea.

Merpeople live for close to one-hundred and thirty years if not more, depending on illness and what fate mankind may mistakenly beseech us. They are the greatest threat to our like, yet they have no inclination of our existence, other than a few ridiculous fairytales that happen to be far from the truth. Of course, the only days we do happen to interact with them and walk among them are when we have legs.

Blending in is our greatest accomplishment. We seamlessly move from sea to land and back again without being caught. In my eighteen years of life I've known hundreds of humans, and from what I have deduced, they aren't much different from us; they eat, they sleep, they share emotions, they die. There are far too many of my kind who strongly disagree with my opinion, though. To merpeople humans are monsters, compassionless beings with a hunger for senseless violence.

"Hey, Sis." A familiar voice greets me in the dark. "Ma has land veggies steaming and Dad is grilling steaks." My older brother by twelve years, Rey, stands from where he was crouched in the sand, close to the edge of the water. His feet are covered in both wet and dry sand. He had been hopelessly dipping his feet in the sea. Sometimes I think he'd rather stay in the ocean.

"Hey, bro, where's Vallah?" I ask. Our thirteen year old sister is going through that pain-in-the-ass puberty phase.

"Back at the house, sulking in her room. Dad won't let her hang out with Tarren until we go back to sea."

"Ah." I understand immediately. Tarren is Vallah's most recent crush, and she can't spend enough time with him. Oh, baby love.

Rey walks with me to the house, following the delicious aroma of seasoned steak on the grill. Land food is only good when you're actually on land, but when you are, it's fantastic. Considering we can't eat it any other time of the year, anything we can consume on land we do. I've tried food from all around the world.

We walk with purpose along the line of the low tide. It has been almost a year since I felt the dry sand under my feet. The cool granules massage my soles, sliding between my toes. I find my rhythm. Rey is still walking unsteadily on the sand. He hasn't regained his leg balance, yet. He always seems to take longer adjusting to the change. I don't think he'd like having legs all year round, as he appears to be rather uncomfortable using them.

I spot the lights of the beach house ahead, the small figure of my dad grilling. Smoke wafts from the grill in one big puff letting me know he'd lifted the lid to flip the steaks. I begin to salivate, one of the many things I can only do on land. Steaks are my favorite.

"Alaya, have you heard the latest rumor about the witch?" Rey inquires as we trek over the wind rounded dunes.

Word is constantly spreading throughout the seas that a powerful inland witch has the power to give us the final choice between legs or fins, a permanent conclusion to our lifelong change. The rumor has been circulating since my parents were young. The problem most merpeople are having is actually finding said witch, if the being even exists.

"I've heard all the stories. Don't believe the gossip, Rey. You'd think someone would have found this magical land-walker by now if it such a creature had the abilities, some merpeople are actually desperate enough. C'mon, our kind has been transforming like this since the beginning of time itself, if such a witch does exist, why haven't we heard of anyone making the final change?"

"True, but wouldn't it be nice. I mean to stay as we were born, to not have to change into this every year."

In the moonlight I watch his eyes light up at the thought of remaining at sea. I knew it.

"So, you'd stay in the water for the rest of your life." I don't ask so much as I point out the fact. I figure either way I know the answer. I just want to hear him admit it.

"Of course I'd stay in the water. Wouldn't you?" Abruptly he stops walking, demanding my full attention. "How can anyone stand this? I can hardly walk, inhaling this polluted air makes my lungs burn, and humans are inconsiderate monsters!" Gesturing to his human form, I'm able to see in the dim light of the houses along the shore that he is dressed in his favored sleeveless navy t-shirt and purple and gray board shorts, such luxuries he wouldn't have at sea. He grasps a handful of wavy hair, tugging with a grunt.

"To be honest, Rey, I never put much thought into the idea. I don't believe we'll ever have the option, and I kind of like how things are now."

His shoulders slump, his obvious despise for the transformation written clearly on his face. I don't know what he expected me to say, but obviously he doesn't like the answer I gave him. He resumes walking toward the beach house, stumbling along at an increased speed. I have to quicken my pace to match his. Having regained his coordination he practically jogs up the back steps into the house, passing Dad without a word. I stop on the porch to talk, though. Rey can have as much time to himself as he needs. It's not like any of us will get the opportunity to choose land or sea anyway.

"What's your brother in a huff about?" Dad waves a big steel spatula in the direction of the door.

"We were talking about the witch rumors and he got a little emotional."

"Ah," he states simply, as though he knows all too well.

"How much longer 'til that steak's done? I'm famished." With all the options of land food, I'd choose to eat steak every day.

"If you bring that tray over here I'll throw these babies on it and we shall eat."

After filling the tray with steaks we gather around the kitchen table to feast on our first land food for the year. Vallah, and eventually Rey, come down to join us. Mom baked the potatoes and steamed the veggies. She even made a tofu wrap for Vallah, the recent Vegetarian. Macaroni and cheese made with white cheddar is laid out in the center of the setting. It's a delicious meal to start our months ahead.

### Chapter Two

Waking to the warm sun on my face, I snuggle my head into the multitude of plush pillows on my bed. Who knew sleeping on a pillow-top bed, wrapped in soft cotton sheets could be so relaxing? I don't want to get out of bed, just lay here and relish in the comforts of land living.

A knock on my door ruins my dreamy morning.

"What?"

"Can I come in Al?" Vallah asks softly through the closed door.

I lean up on my elbows, taking a peek at the alarm clock on the nightstand next to my bed. Eight o'clock. "Yea, Val, come on in."

Opening the door a crack Vallah squeezes through, quickly pulling it shut behind her. Her rusty red curls flow in perfect ringlets to her slimming waist. My kid sister is becoming a woman before my very eyes. Wearing a white spaghetti-strap tank top and baby blue shorts, she plops onto the end of my bed. Long womanly legs stem from the shorts. Last year her legs were still pretty stubby and unshapely.

"What's up, Val?"

"Mom and Dad are so unfair," she pouts.

I laugh. "Yea, well, it happens when you're thirteen. What's new?"

Vallah rolls onto her back, staring up at the spackled ceiling. She interlaces her thin fingers, resting them on her flat stomach. "Sometimes I think about running away."

Sitting up, I let the coral sheet fall off me. I hover over her, hair wild and half in my face. "Where the hell would you go?"

"To find the witch."

"So, you would run away while on land? What's your plan when you can't find the witch and it's time to change back and you're hundreds of miles from water?" I want to smack the stupidity right out of her head.

"I didn't say I was going to do it, I just think about it sometimes."

"Stop thinking about it Val. There is no witch and no use in running away." I step out of bed, heading to the beech wood dresser against the wall by my door. "Life isn't so bad. You deal with what you've got until you grow up. Then you'll really complain."

"Yea right, what do you have to complain about?" She sits up, watching me rummage through my drawers.

"Well, for one, I have to go find a new job today. I need to make money, too. It takes a long time for our kind to save enough land currency to buy a house. Hopefully five more transitions and I'll have enough saved. I'm thinking about investing my money in stocks or something to make more in a shorter time period, but I don't know much about that stuff." I pull on a khaki skirt that falls mid-thigh and lilac and light green floral sleeveless top.

"I like that tank, can I borrow it sometime? Ugh, I wish I could get a job, anything to get me out of this house!" Vallah rubs her eyes with both hands, sitting up on the edge of my bed. "The sun is super bright today, make sure you wear sunglasses. Your white ones will look cute with that outfit."

"Thanks Val, I will definitely wear the white ones. And remember, in five short years you'll be eighteen." I wink at her playfully. "No more thinking about running away, ok? Especially when you have an awesome big sister who will let you borrow her clothes anytime."

"Ok." She looks down at her feet, wiggling and pointing her toes inward.

"Pinkie promise."

"Ok, I pinkie promise," she giggles.

I finish dressing, picking out a pair of white strappy flat sandals. I tug my locks into a neat ponytail, spraying down the frays with an amazing invention known as hairspray. As job appropriate as I'm going to get, I leap down the stairs for breakfast, thoroughly enjoying my legs.

Scrubbing dishes, Mom has her back turned to me, facing the window overlooking the ocean. I sneak up behind her to give her a peck on the cheek. "Good morning, Ma."

"Good morning, sweetie. Though I don't know how good with all these dishes I have to do." She tries to hide a joking smirk, but with her hair pulled into a tight bun she fails. Well, it's not like we have to do dishes under the sea. I can see how she could get annoyed.

I bump her aside with my hip, reaching for the other sponge in the sink, using it to scrub a few dishes next to her. Who can blame her for finding dishes a total pain?

"Dad at work?"

"He and Rey both. You look pretty, sweetie. Are you going to find a job today?"

"Thanks, Ma. I'm going to attempt to find a job today. We'll see how it goes." I shake my head at the thought of going another two months on land without work.

Last year I worked at a floral shop in town. I would continue my position there if the owner hadn't sold the place to some big new corporation buying up property for chain stores. The owner was a sweet, lonely old lady with no children. It made sense for her to sell so she could retire with her sister in Florida. But unfortunately it leaves me without a job.

My dad found a stable position—way back when Rey was a baby— that agreed to rehire him every year. He helped Rey get a position there, too, once he was old enough. What would be the perfect position for someone of our kind? Crabbing. They make a good living off of it too. A local restaurant hires them to do all the crabbing they can in two months. Considering the fact that we're from the sea and the added plus of the ability to communicate with sea life, Dad and Rey are the best crabbers around. My Dad always asks why I don't get into crabbing. Well it's not really my scene, the mess, the long days. And besides, I'm hoping to branch out on my own, not get stuck closer with the family. I do have it on my list as a last resort though.

We finish the dishes, I dry, Mom puts away. She heads upstairs to check on Vallah while I heat up a plate of leftover steak from the night before. Like I said, I can eat steak every day. Baked potatoes aren't always so good reheated, it's a hit or miss, but these potatoes are deliciously fluffy. I clean my plate before I go in search of my purse. It's been a while since I last used one.

Upstairs, Vallah argues with my mom about her newest teeny-bopper complaint. I don't have time to find out what exactly it happens to be or to get in the middle of their mess. I walk straight to my room where I grab the white sunglasses Vallah suggested, placing them atop my head. My closet is an organized mess. I can tell you where everything is located, no problem. Now if someone other than me wanted to take a peek, it would look like a serious disaster struck. There is a method to my madness in that way, no one can steal what they can't find, right?

Tossing aside several dresses and a few pairs of heels—I mentally note where they land—I look underneath a box of hair bows, exactly where I knew I would find it. My favorite purse lay there awaiting me all these long months I've been away. A pearly white with a gazillion zippered pockets and two thick straps lined with grommets, my purse has the capacity to comfortably conceal a small child, human or merbaby. Not that I'd ever use it for that, I like the convenience of the size. I'm sure to toss in my wallet, lip balm, cell phone, a folder with my identification paperwork, along with legal documents, and a few other just-in-cases.

Shouting to my mom and Vallah that I'm leaving—though I don't think they heard me—I head out in search of a job. In the car port on the side of the house, I dig my helmet out of the lock-box against the paneled wall. I find Dad has left a note on my moped:

Checked and filled the gas for you. Good luck today! Love, Dad.

Nice, one less thing I have to worry about. Thanks Dad.

On other bikes there isn't really a lady-like way to sit. Since I chose to wear a skirt today, I am thankful to have a moped. I can keep my knees together while I drive, keeping it classy and lady-like.

Our house is located about two miles from town. Once again thankful for my moped, I gas it to forty-five, pulling into town in minutes. I pass the shaved ice stand, ice cream shop, and the board shop. Finding it a little embarrassing to be eighteen on a moped without a stable job or any formal education, I bypass anything paying minimum wage. Those I'll put on the list with crabbing for my last resort options.

High expectations? Maybe a little. I know I shouldn't be so demanding but I really want a place of my own. Under the sea a seventeen year old is an adult and expected to contribute to the future of merpeople. I'm a bit behind in that aspect. This is my year, my time to make a change. I'm just ready to start.

Broken from my reverie of plans, a group of guys my age standing in front of the board shop whistle at me rudely, I ignore them as I pass. I'm intent on finding a job. Assuming to find very little to work with in a small beach town, I park by the outdoor shopping mall to search on foot.

Across the twenty space parking lot sits a quaint row of eclectic shops, a pet store, body jewelry boutique, fashionable clothing shop, cell phone retailer, tattoo parlor, along with a few others around the bend of the building. I've only purchased clothes from the privately owned shop. It has the most in style options.

Opportunity lies in any of these businesses. Hopefully at least one of them is hiring. Keeping my legs together, I slide off the seat of my pretty little moped. I think I'll start from the end and work my way down. Releasing the clasp of the strap beneath my chin, I tug my helmet off in one motion.

"Are you new around here?"

Startled by the unforeseen voice of a human male, my helmet slips from my grip, falling with a crack to the pavement next to my moped. As I bend to retrieve it a sun-soaked muscular arm beats me to the freshly scratched plastic dome. Following the long line of arm to the body it's attached to, I come face to face with an incredibly handsome human. His pale blue-green eyes remind me of how the sky looks from beneath the sea, a cool, familiar color. A strong nose and angled brow make his face irresistible. His full lips are like the cherry on top. Teddy bear brown hair sits tousled atop his perfect head in that "I was just swimming" way. He has a hint of surfer style, and I can't stop staring.

"Um, yea, new."

The few words I can manage out are shaky. I must look like an idiot. He laughs, not unkindly, snapping me back into reality.

"I'm Randall." He extends toward me a large overworked hand. "Nice to meet you."

I accept his hand in mine, it's calloused and rough, but he doesn't crush my hand with his obvious strength. He's much gentler than he appears. Embarrassed by my first impression, I try to compensate for my lack of eloquence.

"My name's Alaya. It's a pleasure. I'm new, but not new. See, my family owns a beach house up the road. We come here for two months every year, like a vacation. I'm supposed to be looking for a job right now, though." I'm rambling. I drop my gaze down to my toes, wishing I'd taken the time to paint them.

"Oh, you work while you're on vacation? That's a bit out of the ordinary. Two months is hardly enough time to find a job and get in a sufficient amount of work."

I nod. I must be as red as a steamed crab right now.

"I think I can help with that. I mean, if you don't mind me offering."

I straighten my spine, peering up from beneath my lashes to see his expression. He's smiling sweetly, revealing the most adorable dimples in his cheeks. Or is he playing a joke on me? I can't tell if his kindness is genuine, humans can be so cruel sometimes.

"You can?" I'm baffled by my inability to see him for what he is.

"I own the boat and personal watercraft rental. It just so happens that my dad retired last month, leaving the place to me and I could use some assistance managing the business."

Not exactly what I was hoping for, but it is a job, and really, what was I thinking I would find? And it helps that my boss is totally gorgeous. Maybe this is a bad thing.

"I have to be honest with you; I don't have any experience in managing a business," I admit.

"I'll be right by your side the entire time to teach you. I promise it's easier than it seems. Who knows, maybe I'll be able to convince you to extend your stay if you fit the job. Do you want the position or are you going to make me find someone else?" he teases.

"I'll take it, as long as you don't blame me for the collapse of your business."

"If you can ruin my shop then there was no sense for me to be in business in the first place. How soon can you start?" He removes a sleek black Smartphone out of his back pocket. "I have to get over there to open in a few minutes. Is today too soon?"

"No, no, today is exactly what I need. I can follow you on my moped, or I can meet you there, I know where the shop is located." I reach for my helmet which he still holds in his left hand.

"Or...I can throw that dinky toy in the back of my pickup and you can ride with me." He turns and walks away with my helmet, not allowing me the opportunity to respond.

I should be weary. A handsome stranger, whisking me off to a supposed job opportunity that just so happens to be available, and who prefers I ride in the same vehicle to the location. I should be terrified, but I'm not. I'm more surprised than anything. Maybe I'm stupid.

His white Ford F150 is parked in the next row over. He tosses my pale purple helmet into the bed of the truck and climbs into the driver's seat. All the while I just stand here where he left me with my mouth agape like a real winner.

Randall backs up to the front of my white and lime green moped. I shrug in conceit when he hops out and opens the gate to the bed. He flashes me a quick smirk before effortlessly lifting my moped into the back of his truck. I stand staring at my—as he called it— dinky toy, with my eyes so wide they're beginning to hurt. I'm at a loss for words. What am I supposed to do now?

"Get in. You don't want to be late on your first day of work." He takes a few long strides to the passenger side, opening the door for me.

"Thanks, but for some reason I don't think my boss will mind." I use the door to pull myself up into the lifted truck. Randall laughs and gives a slight nod, shutting the door after he's sure I have secured my seat-belt on.

Why am I not worried?

The shop is a ten minute drive from the mall, on the way Randall explains the papers I'll have to fill out when we get there, all the tax sheets, the drug screening forms. He is nothing if not professional. It doesn't bother me one bit. I have all the appropriate background papers. All merpeople do. We have phony last names for our land lives, under the sea we don't require more than our first name since we use our clan name as a sort of last name. Even though we disappear for ten months out of the year, we are all registered citizens of the countries we chose to inhabit when we go through the transformation.

My family has U.S. documentation, social security cards, birth certificates, driver's licenses, and such. The only snags our kind run into is when we reach the ages most humans would retire or at least appear older. We have to retire as they would, even when we live a whole lifetime longer because our paperwork reveals our ages. We age at a rate fifty times slower than humans once we reach our late twenties. Things can get complicated as we age, but we always work through the rough times with graceful ease, at least that's what my mom says. I say we make it work no matter what, not always gracefully, including the use of makeup to make us look older, or even moving and forging new documents.

My skirt seems to have ridden up when I got into the truck. Nervously I tug at it and squirm to adjust unnoticed. In such a confined space it's difficult to imagine he hadn't seen me. If he had, it didn't show. He continued his spiel without pause.

Mom would kill me if I she knew I got into the car of a large strange man. I really need to consider my actions before I get myself killed. Honestly, I don't get the killer vibe from him. Man, I hope I'm right.

The boat shop sits on the edge of the Dream Water Bay. Outside a sign with a smiling vintage cartoon tugboat hangs above the entrance. The sign reads, "Andrews Family Boat and Wave Runner Rentals". Painted an aqua green with white trim, the main building has a double glass door entrance and one long window to the right of the doors. The window is colorfully painted with current sales advertisements and cartoon figures of sharks and sailors.

"This key unlocks this front door," Randall informs me, holding out the silver-tone key for me to see. I pretend to know what I'm doing. He unlocks the doors, holding one open form me to step inside. Once in, he proceeds to walk directly to a room behind the counter that lines the wall to the left.

"Are you coming? I need to show you which light switches to flip on," he says when I don't follow him.

I hurry to the back room which turns out to be an office. Inside the burgundy painted office Randall explains what each switch goes to, flipping on the ones that illuminate the store and turn on the registers. It helps that they are labeled. He points out the various file cabinets and tells me what they house. Underneath the heavily polished cherry wood desk rests the safe, concealed under the rug, in the floor. He neglects to tell me the combination, quickly punching in the numbers. From the safe he retrieves two cash register tills, each with a hundred and twenty dollars in bills and coin.

"Take one of these please." He hands a till to me. "Have you ever set up a register?"

"No, not really."

"Don't worry, this will be easy," he assures.

We step out of the office to directly behind the front counter, on which two standard cash registers are installed. He picks the one in front of the office door, leaving me the register further down the counter near the front entrance. Following his lead, counting the money twice, I insert the till and close the register. This is actually a lot simpler than I thought it would be. It doesn't require a cashier number or an access number like the ones I've heard about from Rey. These are very similar to the one from the floral shop.

"Got it?" Randall asks, stepping behind me to check the machine.

"All done." I turn, catching a brief whiff of him. He isn't wearing any cologne that I can tell. Clean, he smells clean and of something else. If sexy had a scent it would be made from him. "What's next?"

I need to get these thoughts under control. What is wrong with me? Too trusting? Indecent thoughts about a human? Ugh.

"I need you to fill out all the proper forms. Rather than sit in the back you can sit right up here to complete them if you want. That way you can observe daily business at the same time." Randall taps the counter next to my register.

"Ok. Are you sure I won't disrupt anything?"

He's too hot. I'm going to have to quit if I can't pull myself together. This guy is making my insides somersault like a storm beneath the waves.

"You'll be fine. Why, are you nervous?" he ribs.

"No, I just want to start my first day off on the right foot." Maybe I am.

I can do this. I take a moment to survey the shop. Racks filled with life vests line the center of the store. Boating gear hangs by category on the back wall. Cluttered in front of the painted window, shelves and spinning racks of tourist collectibles squeeze together in a messy jumble. The counter itself is half made of glass cases, each displaying sunglasses, sunscreen, and waterproof watches and compasses.

"Here, five papers shouldn't take too long." Randall retrieves the forms from the office, placing them before me on the counter with a black ballpoint pen personalized with his name in silver cursive on it.

I lean awkwardly behind the counter, semi-hunching to write my name on the first line of the form on top. Bending over too much will cause my skirt to come up and I am trying hard not to flash my boss, really. I'm instantly realizing my choice in attire was not exactly work appropriate. Cold metal suddenly taps the back of my legs causing me to jump.

Randall giggles like a little boy behind me. "I thought you might like a chair to sit on."

"Oh, thanks. You know you could have said something sooner," I feign annoyance. Perching myself up on the metal stool, I pull it closer to the counter and continue writing.

"Yea, but what fun would that have been?" He leaps the counter to the other side. "Can't have a boring work environment, can we?" Turning to face me he continues walking backward, goofy grin plastered on his face.

"I guess not. Don't expect for me not to get you back though," I joke. I'm beginning to think this job is perfect after all. If only my body will remember the rules. No hitting on the boss, no dating humans.

"We'll see." Spinning on his heels he stops at the first rack of life vests. The set is entirely children's sizes, in bright colors and covered in cartoon characters.

Redirecting my focus to my papers, I quickly jot down my information, each letter an unfamiliar scribble. We don't write much under the sea, no need to. When we do write it's on leaves with stone and we use simple symbols. I couldn't write my name in human until I was almost ten. Two months a year isn't nearly enough time to learn to read or write or spell on paper in sufficient time to be on "grade level" as humans say.

A jingle at the entrance alerts me to our first customers of the day, a young couple, maybe in their early twenties, matching bleach blond tresses. She holds onto his arm like a too skinny decorative ornament, leaning against his body sensually. He walks with an arrogant stride, directly to where I'm propped at the counter.

"How much to rent a wave runner?" he inquires in his smooth-talker tone.

"I─I..." Stammering incoherently, I'm completely clueless, I scan the store for Randall, but he's disappeared.

"Forty-five for an hour, eighty for three. We close at seven, so any rentals must be returned at the designated time before then." Randall appears out of nowhere to stand next to me.

"Alright man, can we get a three hour rental?" The comically surfer-style guy reaches for his wallet.

"Sure. Now you're also required to wear life vests while on the wave runner. If you don't have life vests we can provide them for a fee, or you can purchase your own from our selection." My charming new boss gestures to the racks behind the couple.

"Shit. How much to rent two vests?"

"Ten for one, fifteen for two," Randall replies coolly.

"Gross, babe, I do not want to wear used life vests," the Barbie girl whines.

"I assure you, ma'am, we thoroughly clean and sanitize each vest after use." Randall has the calmest, most soothing voice. He sold me on a vest, and I'm from the water.

"How much to buy?" Her beau is becoming frustrated with the cost of this date.

"Anywhere between twenty to sixty each."

"We're going rent two adult life vests, please." He fishes out the cash, handing it to Randall in a clump of bills.

I've been instantly forgotten.

"No, I am not wearing that. It's disgusting!" his girl cries.

"You are. It's this or no wave runner, so get over it." He accepts his change from Randall and the couple signs the waivers and rule acknowledgment forms.

The boss shows me where the rental keys are kept locked in a case on the wall in the office. His arm brushes mine when his hand drops from the case. My heart rises to my throat and I'm glad he can't see. He just smiles, all business, and we escort the couple out to the marina, their used life vest rentals in hand. I observe as he explains the how-tos and what-not-tos, mentally taking notes.

"Sorry about that. I wasn't planning on giving you the full rundown on operations until you completed the paperwork," Randall says when the couple speeds off.

"Don't apologize. I was totally caught off guard, but thankfully you were there."

"Yea, to rescue you, the damsel in distress," he smirks boyishly. "How much longer until you're finished?"

"Not much, a few minutes at the most." I shrug. "So, you leave the front open when you show a customer out back? Aren't you worried someone might steal from you?"

He holds the back door to the shop open for me as we make our way inside. I do my best to avoid touching him as I step through the entryway.

"Not at all. It's how my father ran the business, so I will continue his routine. Eventually I will have to install cameras and hire more staff, but for now I'm relying on my trust in humanity." His eyes graze the layout of the shop, lingering only a moment here and there.

"Too much talk. You have paperwork to finish, now get to it," he commands in a voice much like Scrooge.

We watched that movie one year on land during a big storm. Rey loved it. He seems to relate to characters like that, misunderstood with a hidden hurt and desire.

This playful environment is dangerous. I can already see myself doing something stupid, and reading advances that aren't there. But it's a job, I need a job. And maybe I like the flirty atmosphere, be it close to breaking the rules. Who's to judge?

### Chapter Three

Working for Randall has turned out to be the most fun I've ever had while on the land. In the days following my first I've learned all the ins and outs of his business, earning my very own set of store keys. He put a squishy purple dolphin on the key-chain for me so we won't mix ours up, and it doubles as a flotation device in case they fall in the water.

The store hours aren't too bad. We work together the entire nine hours of each workday. I quickly found out the first day that we're the only employees. The revelation doesn't bother me, I can definitely get used to a simple life like this, aside from the ever growing feelings I know shouldn't exist.

Initially business was pleasantly slow, but it's really picked up this week due to the rise in temperature. Randall explained that the closer we come to summer, the greater traffic flow will increase. As the shop owner, he is incomparable. His dad had pretty much bred him to take over the business. His organization puts mine to shame, I'm so glad he'll never see my closet. The shop runs efficiently and without issue thanks to his ability think outside the box and his mechanical skill.

My time spent at the shop with Randall makes every day worthwhile. Walking in to see his brilliant smile each morning leaves my heart aching each night. He smells like the ocean and human male musk when he comes in from doing repairs, it's intoxicating. Any excuse to get near him, I find a way to stretch out the moments. Just thinking about him causes my mind to wander to impossible lengths. His incredibly good looks aren't the only attribute that makes him attractive. He is also the sweetest human I've ever met, kind to the bone. He happens to be the first human I've ever had a crush on too which is the last thing I need right now.

I learned that he's only twenty-one, though he looks a few years older. His dad didn't simply retire. It turns out he has been suffering from dementia and a few other illnesses that plague elderly humans. Randall was kind of thrust into taking over the business earlier than planned. He stepped up to the challenge and matured beyond his years.

"Working again today, sweetie?" Mom asks as she clears the breakfast plates from the table.

"Yup, Randall is going to show me how to repair a wave runner today." I help her clean the dishes, all the while smiling like a blue parrot fish.

"I've heard so much about this boss of yours, this man who has given my daughter such a wonderful opportunity. When can we stop by to meet him?"

"Ma, you can stop by the shop anytime."

"Is he handsome?" she giggles girlishly, reminding me so much of Randall.

I stand for a second, picturing him, remembering the first day we met. I can't deny the attractiveness of this creature.

"As a matter of fact, he is very handsome, but it doesn't matter. He's a human and I work for him. There's nothing more to our relationship than that. I mean, it's not even like he's in to me. Besides, we all know it's against the rules of the sea."

"Hmm. You said he's twenty-one, right? Not a bad age." Her brow rises mischievously.

"What? You are reading way too far into this. You'll be the one to get us all in trouble with the elders." I nudge her in the ribs.

"Maybe Vallah and I will come visit you for lunch today. Would you mind?"

"Of course not. Remember, we're on land and I'm eighteen now, so please don't treat me like a child. Just because here on land eighteen year olds are considered under age for a lot of things doesn't mean I'm a kid. Back home I'm an adult," I remind her.

"Yes, dear," she muses. "About this Randall, does he live with his parents?"

"No, he owns his own house, Ma." Geez, she's starting to make me feel like a kid again.

"Ah, I see. We'll see you later then. Have a good day, sweetie." She wipes her hands on a rooster embroidered dish towel tucked into her apron before placing a sweet peck on my cheek.

At nine o'clock I'm anxious and ready for work. We don't open until ten but I hop on my moped and drive to the shop early. Wind whips my hair around beneath my helmet. Today I chose to wear a pair of jean shorts, a silver sequined black tank top, and silver flip-flops. I regret not pulling my hair back. I am going to have serious helmet head when I get to the shop.

Randall's truck is already parked in front of the shop, a yellow Mustang convertible idles next to it. Between the two vehicles a man and a woman are caught in a passionate embrace. In a moment of shock I don't realize the man is Randall. The woman, with shoulder length light honey brown hair, whose back is to me, has her arms wrapped tightly around his neck. From what I'm able to see, she is pressing herself seductively into him. His hands are gripping her hips, drawing her closer, if that is even possible. He abruptly pulls away, almost forcefully holding her back. His smile is so sweet as he speaks to her in inaudible nonsense. I desperately wish I could be a fly on his truck. Opening the driver's side car door for her, he steps aside so she can plop into the seat. She bounces into place playfully, tilting her head up to him for more kisses as he closes the door. Randall willingly obliges for a moment. Stepping onto the cement step-up lining the entrance, he moves out of her way, waving as she backs out of the parking space and exits the parking lot, driving right past me without a glance in my direction.

I am sick to my stomach. Jealous? Me? Nah.

Perched on my moped, idling just inside the entrance to the parking lot, I'm frozen in place watching Randall unlock the doors and step inside the shop. He never saw me. He was too busy sucking face with his lady friend, the lady friend I've heard nothing about in the time we've been flirting and working alongside one another. I don't know why I'm feeling such strong emotions. We have a platonic boss-employee relationship. He's never acted like anything other than the owner of the establishment I work for. Yes, there has been joking and maybe light flirting, but nothing to state feelings toward one another, even though I may have some.

Ugh, what have I gotten myself into?

Parking my moped two spaces away from Randall's truck, I pull off my helmet, attempting to fix my hair. When I work it into a messy bun I sulk inside to start what is bound to be an uncomfortably awkward workday.

"Good morning, sunshine. You're fifteen minutes earlier than usual today, ready to work on some wave runners?" Randall greets me from behind the counter. He has stacks of colorful papers in his hands and his signature pen tucked in the space above his ear.

"Morning, I'm definitely ready to get my hands dirty." I stash away my purse in the office. "How do we work on a wave runner and manage the front of the store?"

"We bring the wave runner inside." He smiles slyly, slipping the papers under the counter.

Skipping to the rear of the shop he props open the back double doors and disappears outside.

I notice a large area next to the counter has been cleared. It could be enough space for a wave runner to fit. The problem crossing my mind is getting it inside, but I figure Randall has done this all before.

As I suspected, he backs the wave runner into the shop on a trailer attached to the back of a small four wheeler. He parks the trailer in the cleared out spot and unhitches it from the vehicle, shooting me one of his adorable smirks. It took mere minutes for him to take the four wheeler back out and shut the doors.

"There's a tool box in the office, behind the filing cabinet near my desk, would you mind getting it? I have more tools out in the work shed if we need them." Randall pulls a short wooden step stool out from under the counter placing it near the damaged machine.

I find the rusting toolbox right where he said it would be, dragging with it a metal folding stool. He takes the heavy metal box from me, setting it on the floor beside the wave runner. Unfolding the stool next to his, I sit down to watch him go through the box, finding the right tools.

The next few hours are spent opening and prodding the wave runner insides between customers. Randall instructs me on how to take apart and put together the main operating components. All the while our faces are so close together, almost touching, as I observe him fixing the motor. His brow furrows each time a screw is just a little too tight, the muscles in his arm flex and strain to adjust. My heart skips a beat every time our skin brushes. The feeling is causing me to become a nervous wreck. I don't want to feel this way about my boss, a human. Add the fact that he has a girlfriend and I feel downright dirty.

"I promise you, you'll be able to do all this by yourself by the time we're through," he exhales huskily. "Put your left hand here, yes, on the body for stability. Now, with your right hand, push and twist this back into place."

He closes his hand over mine, applying pressure, encouraging me to replace the motor. My body is against me, I must brace myself because any moment his touch will force me to make a move we'll both regret. He's so warm, smelling so deliciously kissable. Why is his face suddenly so close? I can't remember what I'm supposed to be doing with my hands. Move something to something something...tie my shoes? No, I'm not wearing laces. What the hell is wrong with me?

The door jingles and I jump up, welcoming any distraction. I sigh audibly at the sight before me. Perfect timing, my mom and Vallah stroll up to the cash wrap. Mom is sporting a yellow knee length sundress with a big floppy beach hat, looking her prettiest. Seriously, she should be in a magazine. Vallah has obviously gone through my wardrobe, decked out in a light blue jean miniskirt and a loose off the shoulder top.

"Hey Alaya!" Vallah shouts, waving spastically.

"I'm so glad you guys actually came, I'm starving." I bolt around the counter to squeeze them tight. "We've been working on this wave runner all morning, I need a break."

"You're not giving my daughter proper breaks?" My mom glares over my shoulder.

I turn around to find Randall has followed me and hurriedly wiping his big hands on an oil stained rag. He flashes my mom a friendly smile that is completely new to me, extending his big greasy hand to her.

"Randall, ma'am, it's a pleasure to meet you. I promise you, she can take a break whenever she likes." He turns to give me an obvious wink.

"I'm Alaya's mother, Sia, and this is my youngest daughter, Vallah." she accepts his hand graciously. "You must be doing something right because Alaya never comes home with a complaint about work." She beams at me.

I groan inwardly. How embarrassing.

"She's a fantastic employee, the best I've ever worked with. I'll be sad to see her go. To be honest, I've been wondering if offering her more money will convince her to stay when your family leaves next month."

"The end of next month," I add, blushing. I had no idea he thought so highly of me as an employee.

"Right, the end of next month. What do you say? Will more money keep you here?" He feigns a pouty lip and puppy dog eyes. I genuinely wish I could say yes.

"I really can't, Randall. I'm sorry." I shake my head, looking to my mom for help. She simply shrugs with a bigger smile plastered on her face.

"You can, if you want. Just think about it, you have a whole month and a half to decide." He sounds like he's desperate for me to stay. Unfortunately it's impossible.

"I'll think about it," I say just to pacify him. "I'm going to go have lunch with my mom and sister now though. Is that ok?"

"Yea, go ahead. You lovely ladies enjoy your meal. I'll see you when you get back, Alaya." He pats me awkwardly on the shoulder on my way to get my purse from the office before leaving.

My mom drove her red Jeep Wrangler. I climb into the back giving the front seat to Vallah. Mom drives down the road to Shark Tale Joe's, a great surf and turf diner. We park around the side of the building since the front spaces are full. Everyone wants to eat here.

"So, your boss is hot," Vallah comments as the hostess seats us.

"I'll admit, he is something else," Mom agrees.

"He's my boss, who happens to be human and have a girlfriend. I caught them getting hot and heavy outside the shop this morning."

"Eww, they were doing it?" Vallah twists her face in disgust, yet she still leans closer for the answer.

"No, just making out with their arms around each other, clothes on. It was very PG, Val."

"That's not bad, you made it sound nasty. He looks at you like he likes you, though. And he wants you to stay. Maybe his girlfriend is moving across the world and they're going to break up soon," my kid sister sighs dreamily.

"Vallah, honey, you know that's not in the cards for our kind." Mom places her hand on Vallah's. "It doesn't matter how much they like one another."

"What? Who says I like him? Anyway guys, he likes me as an employee, end of discussion." I want the whole conversation to go in another direction, but I have a feeling that will never happen.

"Oh, whatever Al. You were all drooley over him. I don't blame you, he is super hot. Do you think he'll hire me when I turn sixteen?" Vallah is getting all goo-goo eyed over my boss. Gross.

"Vallah! You shouldn't be thinking of such things so young," Mom scolds.

"Al, tell her I'm not that young."

"Ma, she's growing up. At least let her think the way she chooses to. And Val, relax, you have a few more years until you're sixteen. By then there might be a million other places you want to work." I'm glad for the conversational shift, anything to get Randall out of my brain.

Lunch is appetite fulfilling, I order a buffalo chicken burger with loaded fries and broccoli on the side. The yummy meal hasn't taken my mind off of work. I sit patiently through the lip smacking, chewing, and stuffed mouth mumbles, wondering what, if anything is happening between Randall and me. Vallah brings him up a couple of times. I successfully avoid her questioning. My mom smiles silently each time Vallah says his name. It's getting rather annoying.

When I return to the shop Randall is still sweating over the wave runner. I watch through the glass of the front doors, his back straining beneath his white t-shirt as he re-tightens the bolts. I wonder what it would be like to be with him in the way his girlfriend has, how it would feel to touch him in any way I please. An approaching customer's reflection in the glass snaps me back to reality. I open one of the doors, holding it for the man to enter.

"Welcome to Andrews Family Rental Shop, how can I help you, sir?" Randall stands to acknowledge the man. He notices me behind, smiling, I think to me.

"I'm looking to rent a boat for a fishing trip tomorrow." The older gentleman limps to the counter. He hides it well. I only noticed because legs are something I've grown to pay attention to, to study.

"I can help you with that," Randall retrieves the paperwork from the cubby under the counter.

Locking my purse in the office, I join him as he finishes with the customer. They shake hands, agreeing on the arrangements for the morning. He files the papers after the customer leaves and returns to his stool to finish on the wave runner.

I take my seat next to him.

"What's your girlfriend's name?" It's out of my mouth before I get the chance to catch it. I never planned to bring up the topic.

Damn my curiosity. Jealousy? No.

"Girlfriend?" His kissable lips twist in thought. "Do you mean Veronica? You saw us this morning?"

"Yea, sorry. I didn't mean to say anything, you just never mentioned her before and you two looked pretty serious earlier." Why do I have to open my big mouth? A month and a half until we return to sea? I'll have to suffer my own embarrassment until then. Now I have a name to put to the image of her face smushed into Randall's that will haunt my memories for countless days.

"We're not exactly dating. It's more a...physical relationship." He has the decency to look ashamed. "I hope you don't think less of me now. I've known Veronica since we were kids. We're like friends with benefits. Man, that doesn't sound any better." His head drops into his dirty hands.

"I don't mean to get into your personal affairs, but you definitely came off as more than friends with benefits. Um, what exactly are friends with benefits?"

Attention, Alaya, your ignorance is showing.

"Really? You've never heard of friends with benefits? It's when two friends...sleep together, no strings attached. Trust me. It's not an everyday affair. Only when one of us...needs it." Rubbing his eyes with his palms causing the dirt and grime to transfer, he groans. "I know, I sound like a total douchebag. I'm really not. I haven't had a girlfriend in two years. Not because I can't get one, it's because I have high standards for the girls I date. Veronica, she's clean, and I can trust her. We know each other. The feelings aren't there though, I swear. We had plans for this morning long before you started working here. Then I met you and I decided this was going to be the last time. I was going to let her know after we close tonight."

"Whatever you say, buddy. You don't have to explain yourself to me." I almost plug my ears with my fingers and make noises like a human child. This is information I absolutely do not want to hear, the feelings, the explanation. It's all so strange, so foreign.

"You don't understand. I do have to explain. I feel like shit that you had to see us this morning. It figures, too. I haven't been with her in over three months. You just happened to show up at the worst time." Randall kicks the stool back as he gets to his feet. "I'm so sorry, Alaya."

My mind is swimming. Do I believe him? If I do, do I think it's ok? Friends with benefits? What the hell does meeting me have to do with this? He could have easily broken off the arrangement. The sea is starting to sound better and better. I'm unable to meet his questioning gaze, it burns into me hotter than the flame of summer sun.

"I don't know what you want me to say," I whisper.

An energy I've never felt before ripples off of him, inches from me. The fine hairs on my arms stand on end. A chill swims up my spine, tingling along my scalp.

"I'm not so sure myself." He storms into the office, shutting the door forcefully behind him.

Tears threaten to spill from my eyes. I fight them, confused as ever. This guy I hardly know evokes feelings I never imagined a human man could make me feel. I hate these emotions.

The door jingles as Veronica herself glides in right on time as if she knew we were talking about her. Her face is even prettier from the front and up close. She has beautiful sky blue eyes, her best asset. Her nose turned up slightly, in a childish way, and her thin lips painted a hot pink.

Yup, I'm jealous.

"Hi, is Randall here?" she asks perkily, in a bouncy tone that reminds me of the customers on my first day of work.

"Um, yea, he's in the office. I'll get him." Reaching back, I tap the office door once with my knuckle, keeping an eye on the stunning Veronica.

"I'll be out in a minute," Randall announces sharply.

"So, you must be Alaya. Randy has told me a lot about you." She leans against the counter, resting her hip on the glass.

"Me?"

I hate that she refers to him as 'Randy'. I instantly dislike the name. What would Randy have to say about me when he's with her? Yuck.

The door to the office opens, shutting her up. I lose the opportunity to hear more about what Randy says about me. Randall steps out defeated, his hair more tousled than usual, like he's been pulling at his luscious locks. He doesn't appear to be happy to see Veronica either.

"Why are you here?" Randall demands.

"I wanted to talk to you in person. Can we speak privately?" She eyes me in her peripheral.

"No, spit it out and go. I'm not having a good day." He avoids looking anywhere near my general direction.

"Have it your way," she shrugs. "We can't do this anymore, these short rendezvous. It's actually getting weird for me. I mean, the sex is nice, but it's a temporary high. I need it more often than once in a while if we're going to continue enjoying each other's company. I didn't intend on embarrassing you in front of your new crush, sorry." Insincerity rings in her voice. She meant the phony apology for me.

He lowers his voice. "Ronnie, what are you doing? Alaya saw us this morning and already thinks we're dating, and I told you how I feel about her. Why did you have to come here? You know good and well this is something that could have been discussed over the phone, by text even."

"Really? Oh, I am so sorry, honey. I didn't notice you earlier. What we had-did, it wasn't like that. It was just really good sex, and lots of it." Veronica's now speaking directly to me, sliding along the counter to get closer.

"And Randy," she turns on a seductive charm that must have taken years to perfect. "Randy, you would have just denied me by phone. We both know how face to face confrontation works."

"Not this time, Veronica. Not ever again. Whatever insignificant relationship we had is over now." Randall's face flushes with embarrassment.

"But Randy..."

"This is so fucking weird. This has nothing to do with me. I don't need to know any of this." I can feel my nose scrunch up in disgust.

Did she call me his crush?

I back into the office for my purse. I have to get out of here, clear my head. This is too overwhelming. All this talk of sex is just too much for me. I'm so confused.

Practically running out of the shop, I fish my keys from my purse, cursing myself for not hooking them on one of the straps. The door jingles in the short distance behind me, Randall shouting words my mind refuses to piece together. Helmet on, keys in the ignition, I drive off, anywhere but here.

The muffled sound of my cell phone ringing is drowned out by oncoming traffic. I can't go home yet, so I drive further inland. Traffic thins out. Dings of text messages fill the air. On either side of me the sand turns to grass, the barren sand becoming abundant foliage and trees. The lone stretch of road branches onto the highway. I turn onto the first ramp. My little moped is fully street legal and highway capable despite its size and color.

Spring is fresh in the air. The weather hasn't yet reached the scorching summer temperatures. Midday traffic on the highway is virtually non-existent. One or two cars pass me, obviously speeding way above the legal limit. Usually I'd flip them off, but today I could care less.

A gas station on my right promises to have the best subs in town. I do need to fill up the tank. I pull into a parking space in front of the station, deciding to get gas on my way out. A child and his mother walk out, the little guy with a giant candy bar melting in his hands. I smile at him, earning a chocolaty toothed smile in return. The next gentleman to exit holds the door open for me. I thank him, ducking under his arm, tucking my helmet under my arm.

Inside smells like sausage and hand sanitizer. I ate just hours before I stormed off, so I'm not really all that hungry. What I need is a good distraction. My phone continues to ring and beep as I wait in line to order a sub. I consider turning the ringer off, but the temptation to answer is too great.

Surprisingly, the selection for sub toppings exceeds expectations. I am definitely going to save it for later, slipping the tightly wrapped sandwich into my purse. I find a table against the windows, sitting quietly with my thoughts to sort through.

I feel so stupid and whiny. What does it matter if Randall and Veronica do things together? He's not my boyfriend, and he never will be. Merpeople and humans can't be together, it's not possible. So I need to suck it up and act like a mature adult.

Why can't I be strong enough? I wasn't always this weak to my emotions.

If this is what love feels like, I don't ever want to be in love again. If this is merely a crush, it's the worst crush ever. Human relationships are so complicated. Who ever heard of friends with benefits anyway? Sounds like a stupid scheme to get sex to me. There's no such thing as uncomplicated sex, at least that's what I've been told. I can't speak from experience because I've never had sex before in any sense of the word. Not with anyone, merman or human. The furthest I've gotten is kissing and that didn't turn out so great.

The idea of sex causes me to visibly cringe. But not when I'm around him. When I'm around Randall I feel something foreign happening in my body.

I want to go home, back to the sea. I want to forget this transition. Maybe I can convince my parents to move next season, somewhere I won't get a crush on my boss. That's not going to happen. My father worked far too hard to get us where we are now.

Five o'clock rolls around as I ride home, my sub tucked away in my purse. I checked my text messages before I topped off my tank, three from Vallah, one from Rey, and thirteen from Randall.

Vallah:

Can I wear your purple dress this w/e?

Rey called me a shrimp :(

Is there a way to dye my hair but not permanently?

Rey:

Val is driving me nuts

Randall:

Can we talk?

Please call me

I only read two of Randall's texts before they were all instantly deleted. I'm not ready to confront my own feelings toward the situation, let alone him. He will have to deal with his embarrassment on his own.

Mom set dinner out on the table, roasted chicken and stuffing. I excuse myself, claiming exhaustion, choosing to eat the sub from the gas station in my room alone.

Randall calls three more times, sending two more pointless texts.

Are you ok?

I hope you're not mad at me.

Am I mad at him? What does he expect from me? A relationship will never be successful between us. He will never understand my predicament. The fact that he has a sex-buddy doesn't exactly sit well with me either. I find it incredibly disturbing. Maybe it's a human thing. Under the sea sex isn't so casual, there's so much more to it.

Why do I keep thinking as though he even likes me in that way? He's probably trying to apologize for the fact that the events at the shop earlier were completely inappropriate in a work environment. I'm a lowly employee, nothing more.

In the morning I'll have to decide whether or not to go to work, if I ever go again. Embarrassed and ashamed, I want to disappear off the face of the earth. The change back can't come soon enough. My family has no idea, thankfully. No, only Randall and Veronica know how uncomfortable I am. How the hell am I supposed to deal with Randall?
Chapter Four

Vallah jumps on the bed, jolting me awake. I had fallen asleep, fully dressed, on top of my still made bed with my cell phone in hand. Stretching out to purposely knock me off the bed, Vallah laughs. She pokes her head over the side, rusty curls dangling over my face.

"Ugh, really Val? That's a hell of a wake up." I rub the sleep from my eyes.

"C'mon, get up. I have something to show you. Why are you still wearing yesterday's clothes? You look like shit. Never mind that, let's go." She reaches anxiously for my hand.

"Geez, Val, watch your mouth. What's the big deal?" I follow her into her room, well, more like she drags me.

"Here, on my laptop. Look at what I found." She runs to her white painted wood desk, pointing to the open screen. "On this merpeople social networking site, someone claims they found the witch. This guy posted that he won't be changing back next month. He says the witch concocted a complicated potion for him to drink. It took five years to find her, but he did it! He found the witch!"

"Bullshit, there is no witch, Val. That guy is full of it. Since when is there a merpeople networking site?" I bend to search the screen, inspecting the entries for the lies they boast.

"Duh, since forever. Everyone who's anyone from under the sea has a page. Um, besides you. This guy is the real deal though, Al. Look." She scrolls to his picture, double clicking to enlarge it. "We've seen him before. He lives, like, down current from Tarren. We'll know for sure when he doesn't come home."

"Yea, I recognize him. The ocean's big, Val. For all we know he can move and say he didn't change back. There isn't enough evidence to prove he found a witch. And what about his family? Why didn't he take them to the witch?"

"He did. Read this." She clicks on a tab located in the bar at the top of the page. A Picture of the man with an older couple and a young boy pops onto the screen. "This is his family, his parents and his kid brother. None of them want to change one way permanently."

I laugh at her naivety. "We'll see, Val. We'll see."

At breakfast Vallah neglects to bring up the witch with Mom. I see this as a queue to keep it between us. Dad and Rey leave before dawn each morning, so I don't know if she would've told them. All I know is she has been too excited about the post this morning. I'm afraid she might do something irrational.

"You're not going in early again this morning, sweetie?" Mom asks softly over our meal of eggs sunny side up, sausage, toast, and orange juice. Veggie spread, toast, and juice for Val.

"No, I'm actually going in a little late."

"I'd be early every day to scope out that hottie boss," Vallah giggles.

"I'm sure you would, you little perv." I fling a piece of sausage at her, smacking her dead center of her forehead.

"Don't you think about it," Mom warns her. "I don't want food all over my kitchen."

"She started it," she whines. "She used meat against me. Al knows I'm a vegetarian now."

"I was playing, Val. Relax. I'm sorry for touching you with meat. You know I respect your choice to stop eating animals."

"Maybe you'd like to shower and change before you head out, sweetie." Mom appraises my appearance, motherly concern wrinkling her brow.

"Yea...I was about to do that." I place my plate in the sink, taking the stairs two at a time in a race for the bathroom.

The girl in the mirror reflects how I feel internally today. Her hair stands straight up, half in and out of the messy bun. Tired, red eyes stare back at me. Lips dry and cracking, in desperate need of lip balm. The girl in the mirror, my reflection, is a lost, scared, barely human joke. What point is there in fixing her up? She'll never get the guy, never have that love. In this moment, she wants to be everything she isn't, wants all the things she can't have. That stupid girl...stupid me. I'm the naïve one.

I push away from the sink, unable to look at that pathetic girl. Removing yesterday's clothes, I turn on the shower, letting the cold water punish me before warming. Scrubbing the shame from my skin is futile, I am what I am. One day I'll accept it.

Wrapped in a towel, I head for my room to get dressed, passing Vallah on the way. She looks at me quizzically, shaking her head. I open my mouth to ask her what the look is for, but she beats me to it.

"You're in love...with a human. Sorry, Al." She smiles apologetically before slipping into her room, closing the door silently behind her.

As much as I hate to admit it, she's right. Somehow in these few weeks I've fallen in love with Randall, my human boss, a man I can't possibly spend my life with. He is also a man who has a friends with benefits relationship that I'm not able to wrap my mind around. I can't live up to that, I don't have sex. How did I let this happen?

Dressed in pink and teal plaid shorts with a white and pink halter top, I slip on white flip-flops, biding my time. Letting my hair air dry, I brush it and throw on a matching pink headband. Not usually the type for makeup, I add a little mascara to my lashes. Why not look nice on what might possibly be my last day? In lieu of lip balm, I paste clear lip gloss across my pouty mouth.

At eleven o'clock I skip down the stairs. Vallah heard me leave my room, following close at my heels. Ignoring her I remove a bottle of water from the fridge, leaning against the kitchen table, I gulp down half the clear contents.

"Why do you suddenly need to look so hot?" she questions, inspecting my makeup.

"Are you saying I'm not hot all the time?" I flick condensation from the outside of the bottle at her in jest.

"No, you're always pretty. But today...what's the catch? Are you going to sleep with your boss?" Her eyes widen.

"What? No, Val, definitely not. I want to look nice today, end of story. Who knows, it may be my last day of work." Avoiding her confused stare, I put the bottle into my purse. Maybe, somewhere down deep inside, I decided to add a little extra today for Randall. Maybe.

"You're not quitting, are you? You love that job. Why the hell would you quit?"

"Hey, watch your mouth. Mom's in the other room, do you want her to run in here and smack you?" I point to the entryway.

She snaps her mouth shut, shaking her head, curls fat bouncing springs of color.

"I thought not. I don't know what I'm going to do today, it's complicated. I'll tell you later tonight, when I get home, ok?"

"Ok, you better tell me everything. Pinkie promise," she demands.

"Pinkie promise."

Hoping my helmet hair doesn't come off too wild, I dismount my moped. Two cars are parked in the parking lot of the shop, Randall's truck in its designated spot. My nerves are on fire, my stomach twisting and turning. What should I say? Pacing outside the storefront, I wait for the customers to leave. I don't want to have a possible emotional breakdown in front of an audience.

Simultaneously, the customers leave one after the other. I hesitate to approach the door. My legs refuse to work, stiffly I step forward. Sweat beads at my brow. I wipe it away with the back of a trembling hand.

Randall's head shoots up at the sound of the jingling door. His tight expression instantly softens. "I was afraid you weren't going to come back."

"Um, sorry I'm so late." My gaze sweeps the floor, embarrassed. He looks relieved to see me.

"I don't care, I'm glad you showed up." He remains behind the counter, paperwork in his hands. His body is tense. He's happy to see me but he resists moving a muscle.

"I almost didn't."

"But you're here." Something vulnerable in his voice forces me look him in the eyes. "You can come in whenever you like. Just don't quit, please."

"I have to leave next month, you know I do. No matter how much money you offer me, I won't be back until this time next year."

The counter seems so far away. I take a step toward it.

"Will you come back next year? Here?" Randall lays the papers down on the counter. "You'll come back and work for me?"

"I can, if you'll have me." I raise my brow. He still wants me to work for him. Why am I so relieved?

His body relaxes. "Do I have a choice? I don't know what I'm going to do around here without you for ten months."

Returning his smile, I hand him my purse. "Would you put this in the office, please?"

Nothing else seems to matter anymore. When I'm around him all that other stuff is all but forgotten.

We avoid talking about the day before, or his sex-buddy. I'm content with just being near him. I think he feels the same. Customers come and go. Business operates as smooth as usual. Laughing and joking, no one can tell we'd had such an awkward day yesterday.

Closing time sneaks up on us. I sweep the floors as Randall counts the night deposit. Ecstatic the day has ended up better than I'd expected, I fight to control the joy. If not, I will be dancing around the shop with the broom as my partner. Instead we quietly close shop for the night. Randall has me reaffirm that I'll be showing up in the morning, he asks a hundred times as we walk to our vehicles. He offers to drive me home. I decline in favor of the cool dusk air and the alone time to think about all the unanswered questions floating through my head, ready to bring themselves to light as soon as Randall is out of sight.

Vallah waited for me in my room after dinner, bouncing excitedly on my bed. As promised, I reveal everything to her, even the friends with benefits part which grosses her out as I expected it to. She listens intently, absorbing every word, nodding and urging me to go on.

"You know what this means, we have to find the witch, so you can make the permanent change to human. Then you can be with Randall, forever. You know you want to, Al." She scoots closer to me on the bed.

"First off, the witch does not exist. You of all people need to get that out of your head. Secondly, I have to accept that Randall and I can never be a couple, we'll never be more than what we are now." Laying my head on my cluster of pillows, I stare up at the ceiling.

"Wait until we go back, Al. Wait until next year when we return to land." She crawls to the head of the bed, resting her face close to mine. "Next year," she yawns, "we'll both go find the witch, together."

"Go to sleep, Val. Dream about your nonexistent witches. I really wish I had your conviction." I pat down her hair, placing a gentle kiss on her forehead.
Chapter Five

I wake groggily, finding my face abnormally moist. I reach up to wipe it dry, accidentally elbowing Vallah in the face. Her gaping mouth had flooded drool all over my pillow, saliva crusting her cheek. I sit up too quickly, resulting in a blinding headache. Vallah barely moved when my hand came in contact with her cheek. I flick her bottom lip repeatedly until her eyes shoot open, glaring at me.

"What the hell is wrong with you?" Lazily she wipes her mouth on one of my pillows.

"Real classy, Val. You can have that pillow." I yank it from under her head, tossing it close to the door.

"Thanks. So, what's the game plan for today? Want to skip work to help me find the witch? I'm going to message that guy and try to get some info from him, you in?"

"No, I'm going to work, and you better not leave this house while I'm gone. Message him all you like, don't act on any information he gives you. I want to know everything he says, too." I try to give her the stern look my mom is so good at. Apparently I failed. Vallah lets me know I look like I need to poop.

"I'm serious, Val. Please don't make me be that big sister, don't make me tell Mom."

"Ok," she says, defeated. "I promise I won't leave the house, but I'm going to message that guy, whatshisname. You might not believe there's a witch out there who's willing to help us, you know I do." Picking up the pillow I tossed on her way out the door, she turns around holding her hand up with her index and middle fingers crossed.

That kid is going to drive me crazy worrying about her. One of these days she isn't going to listen and I don't want to be too far away when that day comes.

My hair in a long braid, I slip a fitted crimson t-shirt over my head, paired with jean shorts, and black flip-flops. I meet Vallah in the hall, she follows me down to the kitchen where Mom has breakfast prepared like any other day.

"There are my beautiful girls. Sit, sit. I made blueberry pancakes, bacon, and hash browns. There's fresh lemonade on the table, too." Mom ushers us into our chairs.

"Thanks, Ma." I pour a tall glass of lemonade.

"What are you girls up to today?"

"I'm sticking around here, going to network on the computer, you know." Vallah shoves a forkful of pancakes into her mouth. She attempts to say more, but it comes out muffled. Swallowing hard, she says, "Al is going to work to slobber on her boss."

"Val! Ma, there is something wrong with that kid. You need to get her fixed."

"Alaya, sweetie, I would if I could. Some things are beyond me." She winks at Vallah. "This boss of yours, Randall, you've been slobbering on him lately?"

My elbow on the table, I rest my forehead in my hand. "I don't slobber on anyone. Please, drop it."

Mom and Vallah leave the Randall topic off the table for the rest of breakfast. I still don't feel comfortable discussing him with them. Especially not Mom, she has no idea about the full extent of my feelings for him. How can I expect her to understand?

I head out for work early, pulling up to the shop at nine-thirty, Randall's truck in its usual spot. Skipping up to the door I pull the handle, it resists. By the time I fish the keys from my purse Randall is at the door, smiling brightly.

"Late one day, early the next, you're unpredictable, aren't you?"

"Well, my boss is the best. He lets me get away with anything," I skip past him, hoping I haven't crossed a line with my joke.

Randall hasn't turned the interior lights on, the shop barely lit by the morning sun through the back glass doors. A stream of artificial light from the office trails across the counter, onto the floor in front of the first rack of life vests.

My purse in the office, I flip the switches to illuminate the shop. Randall hunches behind the desk, punching the safe codes to retrieve the register tills. We continue through the motions of opening operations. By ten we're ready for business.

"What did you do last night?" he inquires while rearranging the novelty racks. "Anything special?"

Restocking the sunglasses and sunscreen in the cases, I watch his expression carefully through the glass.

"Not at all. I went home, had dinner with my family, bonded with my sister, and fell asleep. I'm sure your life is way more exciting."

"I went home, ate alone, watched an old movie alone, and fell asleep on the couch alone. A lot less exciting than your night." He flips through a stack of postcards, removing the bent and distorted few.

"Really, all alone, all night?" I ask skeptically.

"I'm never going to live that down, am I?" Randall drops the stack of misfits on the counter.

"We shouldn't discuss this right now, not at work." Stocking and counting in the case, I avoid his gaze like I avoid fin-rot.

"Then when? I want to talk about it, clear the air. When can we talk?" Elbows on the clear glass, he waits for me to answer.

"Um..." I bite my lip. "I don't know."

He smacks the glass. "After work, today, it doesn't matter where. We're going to hash this out."

"Ok," I whisper hesitantly.

"What's that?"

Clearing my throat, I say, "Ok, after work." But I regret it. My nerves are on edge the rest of the day. I focus less than usual, I'm a complete wreck.

Watching the minutes pass, I finish stocking the cases and reorganize the boating supply wall. Customers pile in after lunch. By far it has been our busiest day, boat and wave runner rentals sold out. Outside the temperature has risen into the mid-eighties, unusually hot for late March.

I man the counter while Randall runs back and forth escorting customers to their rentals. The constant traffic keeps us from unpleasant confrontations with each other. We have the occasional clumsy brush against one another which gives me goose bumps every time. Any free moment I get, I seek him out just to view him in action. The faded black sleeveless t-shirt he's wearing reveals tattooed shoulders. I can't make out the design, but it appears to connect across his upper back. The friendly smile he flashes customers warms my heart, his perfect teeth sparkle.

Seven o'clock comes and goes, by nine we finally finish checking in all the rentals. Sweaty and exhausted, we both want to get out of this place. It was a rough shift. I have no clue how he's going to survive the summer without me. And the worse part of our day is yet to come. Randall still demands we talk. He lets me go home to eat and shower first though.

Scarfing down a leftover plate of green bean casserole and porkchops, I remain glued to the kitchen table while Vallah harasses me for the details of my day. Honest, I tell her nothing earth shattering happened. Then I admit my plans to go to Randall's house after I clean myself up. She goes wild, squealing in that way only teenage girls can. Her curls bounce like rubber springs as she jumps up and down excitedly.

A short shower and change of clothes later, I'm sitting on the front porch waiting for Randall, he insisted on picking me up. I piled my wet hair into a messy bun, and scooped a pair of comfy wide legged gray yoga pants off my closet floor. The pale blue fitted t-shirt is strictly for comfort. When he drops me back off at home I plan to go right to bed.

This is not a date.

Headlights flash out of the corner of my eye, traveling up the gravel driveway. I leap down the steps to Randall's truck before anyone has the chance to come out of the house. I want this over with as fast as possible. Hopping into the passenger seat, I click the seat belt in place.

"You're in a hurry. I was about to step out to open the door for you. What's the rush?" He leans back in the seat, left hand on the steering wheel his right rested on his thigh, relaxed. Super relaxed.

"Can you back out now? Vallah knows where I'm going and I don't need everyone else in my business or trying to come out here to speak with you. Let's just go to your place, I want to talk and be done with it." I rest my head against the glass of the window, watching any movements in the windows of my house.

"Ok. Would it be so bad if they wanted to speak with me? It's just your family, what could it harm?" He stares up at the house, not moving the vehicle.

"Do you want to talk or not?"

Randall glances at me then back at the house. "Oh, we're definitely getting everything out in the open tonight." He puts the truck in reverse, backing out of the driveway.

Forty minutes from town, his house is built on a secluded stretch of beach. A lavish one-story modern home illuminated by accent lights anchored in the ground around the walkway. The carport connected to the house, under which a cherry red car I've never seen before is parked. He pulls in next to the car.

I reach for the handle but Randall is already there pulling my door open for me. I wonder if he's such a gentleman for all the girls, then I remember him with Veronica and know he is.

"What kind of car is that?" I tilt my head at the glossy vehicle.

"A 1962 Ferrari 250 GTO," he replies plainly as though I know what that is. "It was my grandfather's."

"Is that an expensive brand?" I inspect the low sitting vehicle. It looks too small.

"You've never heard of a Ferrari?" He glares at me like I've lost my mind.

"No, they don't have things like this where I'm from." I instantly regret the words.

"And where is this place where no one has at least heard of Ferraris?" He smiles, taking me by the arm to lead me into the house.

"Uh, far way." What else is there to say?

Randall grunts in disbelief, unlocking the side door to his house. A beeping noise startles me. He turns to a number pad next to the door, punching in a code, immediately halting the loud squeak of sound.

"You live here, alone?" My eyes roam over the interior. There is a lot to take in. "How can you afford this?"

We enter through a marble and glass kitchen, the space age stools and appliances done in chrome. The kitchen hasn't been thought out with children in mind, every sharp corner poses a potential head injury. Everything inside all the cabinets is visible through clear glass doors. Either Randall has never used the pieces behind the glass or he is simply that clean and organized. From what I understand, this is atypical in a human man his age.

"The rental shop isn't the only business I own. Most the smaller stores in town are also mine. You could say my family built the town, store by store, brick by brick. I've also made a few investments along the way, courtesy of my dad's guidance. He was a brilliant businessman, he was..." Randall's voice trails off sadly.

"Is there something wrong with your dad?" My hand on his shoulder, I rub his arm in comforting circles.

"You know, old age. It's all catching up to him, smoking and drinking all those years. His voice is shit and his liver is weak. I told you about his dementia, but he's got arthritis and Parkinson's, too. Poor Dad eventually had to give up the rental shop. It was his favorite place to run. That's why I'm there, because I can't let anyone else manage it." Eyes glassy, he tilts his head away from me.

"Where is he, your dad?" I want to make him feel better, but I haven't the slightest inclination how.

"He and my mom moved to an assisted living facility two hours away. I tried to convince them to move in with me, they said they didn't want to be a burden. The facility gives them all the attention and care they deserve. The faculty is qualified and they're completely professional, I checked it out myself. They basically have their own condo on the grounds. It's hard, you know? Watching them deteriorate like that."

No clue what to say, I continue to rub his shoulders. His body shudders slightly, I know he's crying. The big guy won't let me see his face.

"Do you need to sit, or step outside?"

"No, I'm fine. I'm not trying to waste anymore of your time." Clearing his throat, he wipes his face with one swipe of a hand and begins brooding down a hall away from the kitchen. "We can talk in the living room."

The living room has a high twenty-foot ceiling. The back wall is all glass, facing a breathtaking view of the ocean. A marble fireplace consumes most the wall on the left, pictures of people I assume are family members mounted above the mantle. One long white overstuffed corner sofa forms a semicircle in front of the fireplace. On the floor under the couch lay a tree bark brown shag rug.

"Have a seat," Randall gestures impartially to the sofa. He paces before the fireplace, continuing to face away from me.

I oblige, flopping down into the middle of the cushions, sinking deep in the stuffing. Waiting for him to compose himself, I attempt to make out the faces in the photos. From the distance I'm sitting I don't see much though.

"I don't want you to look down on me. You already think so little of me, I want to fix that. The whole situation with Veronica...it was a mutual agreement. We started as childhood friends, and when we both grew up and had numerous failed relationships, we came up with something to help us both. All we did was have sex, every once and a while. Shit. I know how it sounds, trust me. And when she showed up at the shop the other day, I swear I had nothing to do with her behavior, she has never acted like that in the past. But I did plan on severing that agreement, I wanted out. That was the last time for me. The only reason I still got together with her after meeting you is because I'm a man of my word. That day was planned long before you and I met. And, I wasn't entirely sure of my feelings for you." Resting his elbows on the mantle, he rubs his face with both hands, back tense.

"I fail to understand the concept of a sex-only relationship, and I don't see what any of this has to do with me. Why do you care what I think? We hardly know each other. Besides, you're my boss." I want so badly to sound uninterested, uninvolved. Want to.

"Where are you from? Don't people there make mistakes? No one has casual, emotionless sex?" He pushes away from the mantle, frantically searching my eyes for the answers.

"I told you, far away, across the sea. Of course my people make mistakes, everyone does. And no, there's so few of us left that we don't have casual, emotionless sex. Sex is important to us, to our existence. We don't make light of it." His questions have made me angry, I'm making myself angry. One slip-up and he'll know my secret.

"Your existence? Seriously, where the hell is this place?" he demands.

"I can't tell you!"

"Fine, I'll figure it out on my own." Once again pacing the space in front of the fireplace, he scratches his head. "I like you, Alaya, really like you. You're different from just about anyone I've ever met. I'm guessing that has something to do with this mystery place you come from. Working with you and getting to know you these past few weeks has been a bandage to my heart. It's as if I was meant to meet you."

Speechless, I wait on edge for him to say more. Teetering the tightrope of hope and secrets. Giving in to my feelings will only hurt us both in the end.

"Don't you sense it? There's something between us, I know it." Randall takes a seat close to me on the sofa. "Don't go next month, please don't go. If you absolutely have to, I can go with you to this magical endangered land you come from."

"No, you can't. I have to leave, Randall. We come back, every year, I promise. Let's enjoy the time we have left together and make the most of it."

"Will you call me and keep in touch? Not every day, whenever you can. I'm not trying to come off obsessive or needy, I'm sorry. Ten months is a long time."

"Randall, I won't be able to contact you. I wish it were an option." Nervously I play with the hem of my t-shirt. "I want to spend the rest of my time with you, working and getting to know each other. Can we enjoy the little bit of time I have left here without getting complicated? I mean, can we remain as we are? I don't want to get too close, not right before I leave for ten months."

"I wish I could say I understand. I don't. I don't understand this place you're from and whatever bounds you to this home. But whatever you want me to do, it's done." His face is dangerously close to mine. His breath is warm on my cheek. My stomach is doing flips.

"Take me home, please." My voice comes out breathy. I hate the way he makes me feel. It's not fair.

Instantly he retreats, backing away. "Are you sure? Did I do something? I don't know what's wrong with me. I'm not intentionally trying to scare you away."

"I know. You're fine, Randall. My boss kind of expects me to come to work tomorrow, so I'd like to get some sleep tonight." My attempt at joking is a bit flirtier than I meant.

"Oh, yea, I guess he does want you to show up well rested. C'mon, I'll drive you home now." He does his best to disguise the disappointment in his voice.

He shifts into park on the gravel driveway of my house, the headlights flash briefly on the windows. One of the curtains moves, I'm betting on Vallah. Afraid he might make a move on me, I thank him in a rush, jumping out of the truck. I bolt up the steps and through the unlocked front door. Again, Vallah has helped with that. Through the window in the door I watch the headlights disappear down the drive.

"How did it go?" Vallah whispers close beside me.

"Weird, and tense. I don't know if I'll be able to make it the rest of next month." I let her run up the stairs behind me to my room.

"You got it bad, man. I see it all over your face. Sorry, Al." She flops onto my bed letting her shapely legs hang off.

Gently kicking the door shut, I drop onto the bed next to her. "Shut up, Val. I know I'm in it deep and I can't get out. I'm burying myself in emotions and it's going to put me under completely when we leave."

"Are you going to tell Mom and Dad?"

"No, I'm not telling anyone. You won't either." Rolling to my side, I face her. "Promise, Val."

"Pinkie Promise."
Chapter Six

Continuing to work for Randall at the shop is probably a huge mistake. The more time I spend with him the stronger my feelings become. He very obviously feels the same. Our days are flirtier and our conversations intense at times. I've learned all there is to know about Randall Jonathan Andrews, his favorite color, favorite food, his first pet, where he attended a few semesters of college, everything.

As for my background, Randall has learned the basics. I have to leave out a huge chunk of my life, the part he won't understand, the part no human will understand. He doesn't seem to mind, spending time with me is enough for now. I know he will have more questions though, and I don't know how long I can continue this charade.

Business has picked up, for the middle of April we're constantly swamped from open to close. With the temperatures warming up, people are hitting the water hard. I placed orders for hundreds of new life vests. We are down to a back stock of twenty. All our products are flying out the doors so fast I'm having a difficult time keeping up with all the orders.

Rey and Dad have dropped by the shop a few times to check in on me, and to meet Randall. I'm beginning to get the feeling they're on to me. Vallah assures me every night that her lips are sealed, but they seem to know something. Randall won over my dad right away with his gentlemanly charm. Rey on the other hand is skeptical as I knew he'd be. Both give the impression they're in on some inside knowledge that I'm unaware of.

During dinner, a week before the transition back to water, Dad wonders aloud why Randall has never been invited over.

"Dad, he's my boss, why does he need to come over?" I scoop another spoonful of beef stew into my mouth.

"He's a nice man and he gave my daughter her first job. You've been happy, happier than I've seen you in a long time, since you started working at the shop. Why can't I invite the man over to thank him? My boss has been over for dinner twice." Dad refuses drop it.

"There's a difference, Dad. Phil has been your boss for over ten years. Al's has only employed her for two months." Rey isn't keen on the subject either. He hunches over his plate, arms encircling his meal possessively.

"True, Dad, I don't think it's a good idea."

"Bad idea, Dad," Vallah adds.

"Well, I think it's a wonderful gesture, hon." Mom is clearly going to be no help.

"You know, I knew his father. What was that, hunny, fourteen years ago?" He asks Mom.

"What is his father's name again?" She piles another helping of veggie soup into Vallah's bowl.

"Steven Andrews, he owns all the small stores in town, the ones with the big blue A logo attached. He gave Rey his first job at the ice cream parlor when he was sixteen. Remember him, Rey? Good man, I see a lot of him in his son."

"I didn't know Randall was his son. Mr. Andrews was a great boss, real kind," Rey recalls.

"Why don't we have them both over for dinner? His wife, too," Mom smiles at me with all the motherly warmth in the world.

"His parents moved into an assisted living facility a few hours away. His dad isn't well. I don't think they'll be able to come." I continue in my attempts to dissuade them.

"That's unfortunate to hear. We should send them...what is it humans send to convey their condolences?" Mom surveys aloud.

"Flowers, meals, cards, you pick," Rey answers indifferently.

"We'll invite Randall over for dinner Friday and send him off with a care package for the elder Andrews'."

Mouth agape, I cannot believe my mom is willing to be a partner in pushing me over the edge. Stuck on land with persistent parents, I'm running out of excuses. I've been avoiding spending time with Randall outside of work. The last thing I need is a secluded moment alone with him in a private place. The decision has apparently been made without care for my input. In two days he'll be in my house, within close proximity. Ugh.

Since tonight's dinner turned out to be a disaster, at least for me, I excuse myself early. In desperate need of some time alone I've locked myself in the bathroom to relax. Being merpeople we thrive in the water, even in our human form.

The oval, three person jetted tub fills high with warm water. Sitting nude on the edge of the tub, I watch eagerly as the water level rises, testing the temperature with my toes. My troubles melt away when my body sinks into the clear liquid, within seconds I am fully submerged, wrapped in the comforts of home.

In water-dweller form, we can breathe oxygen from the air. But unlike whales and dolphins, it isn't necessary for us to return to the surface often to breathe. If it weren't for the change we endure every year, we could go our entire lives without breathing above water. Our ability to breathe underwater is retained when we transform. The respiratory system in merpeople is extremely complicated as we have both lungs and gills. Virtually unnoticeable in human form, our gills are located behind our ears. On land the fine slits seal shut, lying perfectly blended with the rest of our skin. Once in water our gills open upon submersion. We're far superior to other water creatures in that aspect. That and the fact we easily transition from salt to freshwater.

I beam beneath the surface, my hair floating around me, weightless. Eyes open, I view the world through my watery haven. Sea life is so simple and beautiful, life on land is incomparable.

When humans came along they became the world's number one predator, destroying life and ruining the earth as well as the seas. We were here long before humans existed, but because of them we're on the brink of extinction. The sad part is that they're responsible for the majority of extinctions that have occurred since they appeared on earth.

And I've fallen in love with one of the monsters.

Face above water, my heavy hair clings to my face like thick seaweed. In love with a human, me. My entire life I thought of them as the outsiders in our world. They were something to work with, not associate with. We were here first. We shouldn't have to lower ourselves to work for them. In a perfect world we would be the dominant species.

Oh, how unfair life is.

In my room, drying from my bath, I hold back tears from spilling down my already moist face. I will miss this horrible place when I return to sea. I hate that I will. My newfound feelings and current predicament are all Randall's fault. If only he'd refrained from picking up my helmet that day, if only he'd stayed away and not offered me a job. If only. I refuse to accept any fault. No admittance to playfully flirting, to secretly admiring his appearance, to longing for a simple touch, embrace.

Wrapped in a towel I flop back onto my bed. His face pops into my thoughts, no matter how hard I try to erase it or forget every appealing feature. My life is going to be hell for ten months at sea if I don't remove his image from my mind. I'll have to prepare for the onslaught of emotional hell.

How is it possible for one human man to tempt my heart, cradle my deepest desires within his muscular grasp? Merpeople belong with our own kind. Never in history have I heard of a human and one of us falling in love. Maybe if I dig a little deeper? Might I find I'm not alone? If there is another of my kind out there who has fallen for a human, how successful a relationship do they share?

Mind swarming, I cover my face with both hands. I want to scream, but that will only alert others to my misery. Vallah is well aware. Her thoughts are that of a child, mere fairytales. My parents, what would they think of me, their daughter, in love with a human? And Rey, his disgust with land living verges on unbearable, what would he think of me? These people I love, the ones I hold closest to me, can never know. The stakes are too high for me to risk losing so much. For all I know the underwater community will exile me into seclusion. I'd disgrace my family.

Vallah loves me, no matter what I choose. She believes whole heartedly in this witch, some magical being with the ability to give us a permanent choice between life on land and life in the sea. According to her research, the witch exists and has successfully made at least one of our kind human. If given the permission, she would have run off in search of said being the second she set foot on land. Fortunately for us our parents aren't stupid. They'd never in their right mind allow her to branch off on her own on a precarious journey to find an imaginary witch.

Do I secretly want to believe those rumors? Possibly. My current predicament is causing me to want things I'd never in a million years consider. In my foolish heart, I secretly hope the witch exists for Randall, to give us a chance. In my logical mind, it simply isn't plausible any other way.

I belong in the ocean. It's what has been mapped out for me, my destiny. But how can that be when Randall is my heart above the sea? One cannot simply go on living without their heart.

Maybe I'm just being dramatic. Maybe I'll forget all this soon enough.

Rolling onto my side, I stare into my open closet. The mess inside suddenly has me sick. Forcing myself out of bed, I dress in my night clothes, white cotton bikini briefs and a matching bra under a purple spaghetti strap nightgown. My closet is calling me, the organized mess I once saw as acceptable is no longer to my standards. I begin to toss aside my belongings into neat piles, collecting and hanging articles of clothing. My small shoe stash lines the walls as I clear the floor. Three measly purses are set atop the shelf above the clothing racks. Little items that go inside purses placed into a basket on the shelf. All of twenty minutes and my closet is spotless. Anyone could walk in and easily find anything.

Finally exhausted, I crawl sleepily under my sheets to drift into a dream filled night's rest. My mind works harder in dream mode than earlier in the day.
Chapter Seven

Another hectic day at work keeps me from inviting Randall to dinner until the last hour. The doors open for business and people flock through in swarms. Relieved for the opportunity to watch and not touch, I spend the day behind the counter, ringing up customers, selling merchandise, and filing paperwork. All the while Randall does all the manual work, running in and out, taking people to their rentals, and filling and fixing what requires work. He removed his shirt early in the day. It had quickly soaked in sweat. Customers don't seem to mind, I sure don't.

Randall is built of pure muscle, cut and defined, not obscene and bulbous. There is no way he has an ounce of fat on his body. The muscle in his shoulders tightens when he pours a cold bottle of water down his back. The tattoo decorating his beautiful back is finely detailed. I long for a closer inspection, tribal with a tie to the sea and words in an unfamiliar language. His biceps flex as he crates out various tools to the rentals. Men scold their women for staring. Who's blaming them? Randall is a glorious example of the beauty of humankind.

During a transaction late in the day, the door jingles as usual. I look up to greet the customer, finding a gut wrenching surprise. Veronica stalks into the store on the arm of a rather scrawny young man. She roams between racks and feigns interest in the products they display. I wonder what the hell she's doing here, knowing all too well I'm going to find out soon enough.

Veronica shouldn't bother me as much as I let her. Oddly, I allow her creep under my skin. She has never personally done anything to harm me. We hardly know each other at all. My heart just won't let me move on from her torrid past with Randall. Jealousy really is a human emotion I'm not at all used to feeling. She's has on a super mini jean skirt paired with a pretty green tank top. Her hot pink bikini straps show from under her top. Pretty.

"Hello, Alaya. How have you been?" Veronica steps up in line, two couples fall in place behind her.

"I'm great, how about you?" I smile insincerely, clenching my teeth together. It's all that keeps me from snarling at her.

"Wonderful, this is my boyfriend, Orson. We've been dating for two weeks." She bends over the counter with a wink. "We actually came by to rent a wave runner. Poor Orson here has never ridden one."

I survey Orson's face carefully. He seems a little off in the head. He nods to me, but not in acknowledgment of anything I'm aware of. Eyes blank emerald green orbs, his gaze wanders aimlessly around the shop. Sandy colored hair buzzed close to his head, the bright orange t-shirt he wears does nothing for his pale complexion.

"Sure, let me see what we have left." I check the monitor above the register. "You're going to have a blast, Orson. Nothing beats being out on the water on a day like this."

"Yea, I know," he states simply. Veronica nudges him in the ribs with her elbow. He shoots her an apologetic look. What has he done wrong?

Randall stalks in through the back door, lugging a wave runner motor in his grip. Noticing Veronica, he swerves away from his route to the office, setting the greasy motor onto the counter.

"Hey, Ronnie. How've you been?" he asks kindly, without a hint of alternative interest in his voice, I think.

"We've been fantastic." She loops her arm through Orson's. "Have you met my boyfriend?"

Of course he hasn't. Veronica proceeds to introduce them, making sure to cling onto Orson lovingly. Pathetic Orson, he fakes every emotion he shows. Who knows what's going through his mind.

We set them up with a wave runner, on the house, naturally. Randall doesn't appear to be phased in the least about Veronica and her new man. I'm honestly relieved to see him so carefree. After assisting me with the next two couples, he picks up the motor, rotating it between his hands.

"This thing is shot, I have to find the product number in the catalog and order a new one. We're down one wave runner for a few days." Taking his thumb he wipes the serial plate clean. "A gift, for you." He rubs his filthy thumb down my cheek, leaving a streak of grease.

"Thanks jerk!" I swipe at him with an open hand. He blocks it, retreating toward the office. "You better bring me something to clean this off!" I shout between laughs.

He returns with a plastic canister of sanitizing wipes. Instead of handing it to me, he pulls one out and presses it to my cheek. Gently scrubbing in circles, he carefully removes all the grease.

"All clean," he announces, snapping the lid shut. "Your beautiful face is untarnished once again."

The door jingling saves me from a response. I greet the customers, Randall sneaks into the office to place his order. Butterfly fish in my stomach subside while I ring up the frequent patrons. They tell me about an oncoming storm, hurricane level. Next week when we are transitioning back to the sea the storm is due to hit. My family will be far under the sea, away from any signs of foul weather. The people on this coast have something to contend with though.

The door jingles shut, the customers gone. I poke my head into the office. "Did you hear about the storm next week?"

"Meteorologists always warn us of some sort of front supposedly about to hit this area. We'll be fine." Randall calmly clicks through pages of motors on the ancient computer screen.

"Shouldn't you buy boards and seal the windows, just in case? Not just here, but at your house, too."

"No, Alaya. I promise, I'll be fine," he chuckles.

"Whatever you say." Color me unconvinced. "Can you at least have some emergency items on hand?"

He swivels in his pleather chair to face me. "If it will make you feel better, yes, I will stock up."

"Thank you. I will feel a whole lot better."

Veronica returns the wave runner, claiming to have had the most amazing day. Orson, in his nonchalant way, almost appears less interested than before. She jiggles and giggles in circles around him. He attempts a smile, face twisting into a creepy grimace. Veronica, oblivious to how disturbing her boyfriend's face is, continues acting like a bubbly ditz. They depart leaving me all the more confused with the actual attraction to their relationship, to each their own I guess.

The day dwindles down, returns checked in, papers filed. I've run out of time to waste. Randall and I are alone the last two hours of the day, slowly the distance between us closes until we're a few inches apart.

"My parents want to invite you over for dinner tomorrow evening, if you're not busy." I feed the receipt paper through the top of the register, careful not to look him in the eye.

"Your parents? I'd love to have dinner with your family. What time should I come over? Should I bring anything?" he asks too eagerly.

Uncertain of his enthusiastic attitude, I click the top of the register shut.

"No, just bring yourself whenever you're done getting cleaned up after work. They usually eat at about six, but we close at seven so they're planning a late dinner."

"That's very kind. Thank them for me when you get home."

"Sure. Did you know our dads knew each other? Ten years ago. And your dad gave my brother Rey his first job at the ice cream parlor. He said your dad was a great boss." I'm testing his sensitivity concerning his father, in case my dad decides he wants to talk about him.

"Rey said that? I'm glad to hear my dad is remembered in a good light. He doesn't remember so well anymore, most days I see him he thinks I'm his brother, Jim. Jim died years ago." Randall lowers his gaze to the floor. It's obvious he's battling within to keep from crying.

"I'm so sorry. I..."

"Don't apologize," he interrupts. "You don't need to do that, I'm fine. I give myself a harder time than I should. I can't wait for dinner tomorrow."

My mom nearly explodes with excitement when I let her know Randall has accepted their invitation. She bolts to the kitchen at once, rummaging through the fridge and cabinets for ingredients. All we hear is the banging of pots and pans along with the opening and closing of cabinets. Mom is preparing what she can now and plans to finish the rest in the morning. She is totally nuts.

I slip into bed a wreck. My nerves are as bouncy as Veronica had been earlier. I cross my fingers and hope that my family fails to see how in love I am with Randall. I itch all over thinking about how they might react. A few more days and we'll be in the seas, a few more days. I can hold out. Maybe.

Sleep deprived and shaken, I wake insanely earlier than usual. Five o'clock in the morning doesn't exist in my vocabulary if it's not required by work. It's not classified as laziness, time passes differently under the sea. I live the majority of my life in the water, so I refuse to conform to the human norms unless I absolutely must. My job at the shop starts my work day at ten, fine by me.

Running the water for a cold shower, I rub my eyes wearily. Dinner is going to go smoothly and forgetting my attraction to Randall at sea will be a breeze. Right. Who am I kidding? Dinner has all the makings of a disaster, and my ten months at sea might be what destroys me emotionally.

For the first time since I was a child I cry on land, in the shower. There has always been a threat of full blown tears, but I'm usually able to resist them. Not these, these tears are excruciating and necessary. Sobbing breathlessly under the cool water, a weight is being lifted. The burning tears are like an exorcism of emotion. I know better than to really think that. The crying hasn't rid me of my problems, it's only pacified me for the short period I cower in the shower.

Vallah is waiting patiently on my bed for me when I finish in the bathroom. She has also started the day off early. Her wild curls are pulled back from her face in a mature bun. She squeezed into a pair of jeggings and one of my floral flowy tops. Face serious, she glares at me in the least sisterly way.

"What's your problem? Why are you up so early?" I ask.

"Why are you?"

"I couldn't sleep, I'm stressed. Seriously, why are you looking at me like that?" Tossing the towel on the bed close to where she sits, I tiptoe into the closet to dress.

"She's changed another one of our kind, the witch. Some guy, he lives close."

Exiting the closet in a pair of jean capris and a black tank top, I stop just outside the door. "Bullshit."

Vallah shrugs angrily. "I don't care if you want to pretend you're not interested. This new guy lives on the other side of town. I'm going to pay him a visit today."

"No, you're not. How the hell do you keep hearing about these people anyway?" Hands on my hips, I shift my weight to one leg.

"Al, you are way behind on the times. I told you about the social networking website for our kind. The problem with the site is that no one uses their real names, just nicknames and weird titles. What's for sure is this new guy lives right up the road, and I'm going to find him before we have to go back home." Her face says it all. She isn't taking any advice to the contrary. I can't stop her this time.

"I'm going with you, right now, before work. Do you know exactly where he lives?"

"Duh, how the hell did you think I was going to find him without an address?" she smirks arrogantly.

"Watch your mouth. Who gives out their address over the internet? Are you sure he isn't a nutty pervert? How do you know these people are legit?"

She rolls her eyes. "Al, he didn't give me his address. I got it from another source, one who knows the guy."

"Shit, Val, it's a trap. You're not going, even if I have to take you to work today." I smack her leg forcing her to sit up.

"Ow, Al. It's not a trap, trust me. As much as I'd like to ogle Randall all day, I'm going to find this guy, with or without you." A shadow of shame crosses her face. "Tarren is my source, the guy lives on his street."

"Wait, you've been talking with your crush, Tarren, when Mom and Dad told you no contact until we return to sea? Is this an excuse to see him?"

"No, Al, I swear. I want to see Tarren, I do. But finding the witch is more important right now. Don't you get it? She exists, yes she. All reports say the witch is a woman, so I'm sure now that it's true."

"I'm still not sure about this, Val. We can try to find him, but we leave the second things appear fishy. Got it?" I really don't want to go. I also don't want Val going alone. My only choice is to go with her and hope finding out this guy isn't really who he claims to be will deter her from furthering her search.

"Got it. Thanks, Al."
Chapter Eight

Vallah clings loosely to my waist from behind, her helmeted head resting on my shoulder. Since she's only fourteen and her figure has remained slim, we both fit comfortably on my moped. The drive to Willow Shores, the neighborhood in which our mystery man supposedly resides, is eventless and quiet. Seven in the morning traffic in the beach town is light. A few stores have opened for the day. Most won't be alive with customers for several hours.

The neighborhood itself is middle-upper class, a small fortune away from being a gated community. Only two streets exist in the exclusive neighborhood. Insecurity creeps up my spine as I drive my little moped down one of the well-kept streets. On either side, the grass is the green only expensive maintenance creates. Freshly planted lilies and irises line the grass between the sidewalks and the street. A paperboy on a trick bike rides up and down the street, tossing newspapers in their plastic bags onto nearly every lawn.

Vallah points out Tarren's family home. His parents are much older than ours. His eldest sister is in her forties, almost twice the age of Rey and me. I can't figure out how they made enough money in their short time on land over the years, but obviously it's more than enough. Their home sits on stilts like ours. The difference is the thickness, amount and quality of the stilts, each stilt in place to support a mini-mansion beach home.

"Coming up on the left, 213," Vallah says in my ear.

The house, a creamy yellow painted home, has a birdhouse style mailbox on the curb. I pull into the paved driveway, far back enough to keep a safe distance. There are no cars in the drive. The paperboy passes this house by. From the looks of it, no one lives here.

"I'll knock." Vallah hops off the back of my moped before I protest. She leaps up the steps excitedly, halting at the door with little restraint.

Holding my breath, I eye the homes surrounding us. We haven't passed anyone but the paperboy on our way in. I turn my moped around to face the street for a faster getaway.

"Al, I can hear someone inside, but they're not answering," she whispers loudly from the porch. Anyone inside would've heard.

"Shush Val. Let's go, they don't want to be bothered." My ears are burning, I want out of here immediately.

"Hold on." She reaches into her back pocket; a folded piece of paper comes out.

"C'mon, we need to go, now."

She crouches to shove the folded paper under the door. One more knock before she leaps down the steps, she is on my moped a second later and we're off. People come from the woodwork, on their lawns, retrieving their newspapers from wherever the paperboy tossed them. Cars have begun backing out of driveways and heading down the streets.

"That was weird," Vallah comments from behind. Her arms hardly touching my waist, she straightens her back, watching the homeowners start their day.

"I don't want you going there again without me. What was on that paper you took out of your pocket?" Slowing to the stop sign at the exit of Willow Shores, we both adjust for the increase of the speed limit.

"My username and a note about why I want to meet him. I asked him to contact me as soon as he can, so I'll just wait for him to get a hold of me." Laying her head on my shoulder, she sighs, resigned from speaking during the ride home.

Conflicting thoughts fill my head. I hate thinking of Vallah chasing strangers without me. I don't want her to chase them at all. The next step is alerting my parents to her scheming. Breaking my sister's trust will ruin any future to our relationship. Another thing I'd hate. What the hell am I supposed to do? I'm already hiding my feelings for Randall from my family, and hiding what my family is from Randall. Add hiding Vallah's obsession and I'm becoming a walking mound of secrets.

If dinner goes wrong I'm going to erupt.

Dad and Rey are leaving for work later than usual when we arrive home. Rey acknowledges us suspiciously from the passenger seat of Dad's Jeep. We smile happily and wave them off, hurrying inside.

"You two are up early. Where did you go?" Mom stops us at the top of the stairs.

"Al took me to the beach, for a walk. You know, sister bonding time and all," Vallah explains in a rush of breath.

"That is so sweet. I love when my girls spend time together. Are you hungry? I was just heading down to make breakfast." She passes us, heading down the staircase.

"Actually, I'm going to take a nap. Al woke me up way too early," Vallah answers innocently.

"I'll be down in a few, Ma," I say.

"Ok, girls."

Vallah isn't lying when she said she wanted to take a nap. She is snoring minutes after her head hits the pillow. I shut her door quietly, allowing her privacy in sleep.

I check the alarm clock in my room, eight-thirty. Randall won't expect me at work for another hour/hour and a half. I'm not going to be able to hide upstairs all morning. My helmet did a number on my hair. Brushing it smooth into a simple ponytail, I pick a piece of teal ribbon up off my dresser, tying a bow around the base. Appraising my appearance in the full length mirror behind my door before I head downstairs for breakfast with Mom, the girl looking back is definitely me. She may be a nervous wreck with the eyes of a goldfish under a flashlight, but she is me.

Mom relaxes patiently at the table, reading a housekeeping magazine with her feet propped onto the chair next to her. At forty-seven she doesn't look a day over thirty. It's in the merperson genetics. We age at a more graceful rate since we live longer. Her auburn hair pulled into a loose bun, a few stray hairs fall forward, framing her face. She has the youthful eyes many human men adore. Those eyes are meant for one person, a merman, my dad.

"Did you two have fun this morning?"

"Yea, but I think we may have woken a little too early," I laugh wearily.

"It warms my heart to see my girls bonding. Thank you for taking her out, sweetie. Soon I'll have another hormonal extremist teen on my hands, rebelling at every word that comes out of my mouth. Vallah needs all the attention you can give her." She pushes a plate of French toast and biscuits across the table. "Eat."

I don't have the words to respond, to the bonding time I mean. I've neglected to think about what Val must be going through. Puberty was a difficult time for me, and it was hell for Rey. Unfortunately we basically go through two, one in our underwater form and once again in human. Vallah will feel the full effects soon, if she isn't already beginning to feel them. Selfish me has been too wrapped in my own issues to notice Vallah's. To myself, I vow to never leave her side once we return to sea. I am going to remain with her until she completes her transition into adulthood which for merpeople is around sixteen years old.

"Thanks for breakfast, Ma. It was delicious as always. I'm going to pop in on Val before I leave." I rinse my dishes in the sink, kissing Mom on the top of her head as I head for the stairs.

Vallah's door is still closed when I reach the top of the staircase. Knocking twice, I twist the knob, nudging the door open a crack. Lying on her back, her arms and legs are sprawled out across her bed. The tight bun has come loose, messy waves of hair cover her face.

"Val," I whisper.

She moans, rolling onto her stomach, the little bit of hair still in the hair tie falls free. My neglected sister is becoming a woman and I've been missing out. No wonder she's driving herself nuts trying to find a supposed witch, her mind and her hormones happen to be running wild within. Pretty soon it's going to be tough for her to differentiate between right and wrong. Our puberty has proven to be maddening compared to that of humans. I thought there would be more time for her. It's my fault for being blind to the clues.

"Val, wake up for a minute." Dropping heavily onto her bed, I pat her shoulder gently, then forcefully.

Grunting, Vallah rolls hard onto her back. "Go away, Al. I'll get up later."

"No, I need to talk to you before I go to work. Get up, now."

Rubbing her eyes with her palms, she tries to kick me off the bed. I get to my feet. Grabbing her leg I yank her to the floor. Laughing, she pushes herself up, sliding back onto the bed.

"Out with it, so I can sleep. What's the big deal? Why did you have to wake me up?"

"I don't want you going witch hunting while I'm at work. I don't even want you leaving the house. Promise me you won't. That house we went to this morning was a waste of time. I don't know what the hell Tarren was thinking sending you there, but I do know you're not going there again, especially without me. Got it?" I cross my arms in front of my chest, hoping to convey my seriousness.

"Fine, I'll wait for you. One condition, you have to help me tonight after dinner. You're going to bring your laptop in here and we're going to surf the merpeople social networking site. We need to talk to everyone who's been in contact with the witch. If you don't agree, I won't agree." She eyes me from beneath her mangled curls.

I sigh. "Agreed, Val."

She's nodding off to sleep again when I shut her door. I'm guessing she was either up all night or several hours before I was. Her excitement over finding this witch contacting mystery man makes me nervous to leave her alone. I'll lose it if she sneaks out of the house and something horrible happens to her.

Feeling tired and torn, I sluggishly make my short drive to work a little after nine. I can taste the salt in the breeze. It takes me back to a time when life was so simple.

Wasting time, I turn down back roads and weave between shops. This morning is cool and I hope it remains comfortable all day. My morning with Vallah temporarily pushed the thought of Randall over for dinner from my mind. It's back now and in full nerve-wracking force.

All I have to do is last five more days, five. Why does that seem so impossible?

Once we return to water all my focus will be directed at Vallah. I carelessly forgot the unwanted feelings puberty exposes. She's going to need me more than ever. And secretly I need her too. Helping her deal with her transition will keep my mind occupied and off Randall, hopefully.

The ice cream parlor is open. I pull close to the curb to view the inside of the shop. It has a fifties theme, done in red and chrome with a black and white checkered floor. I picture my brother working there, young and happy. I try to imagine Randall's father there, but I'm not familiar with his face, so I picture a slightly older Randall.

Behind the counter a frumpy old woman in a pink poodle skirt fills chrome napkin dispensers. A man in his twenties wipes down the tables and places fresh condiments in the center. They're open for the day, but it's way too early for a lot of business.

Continuing my scenic ride, cars wiz by on the opposite side of the road as I seek all the little details humans tend to overlook. People are beginning their Friday, the end of their work week. Some happen to be starting their weekend early.

Sidewalks as old as Rey weave along the roadside. Sprouts of life struggle to grow between the cracks. Soon someone will spray them with plant killer or cut them out.

The rows of shops block the sun from my view. I can see my reflection on all the clear glass I pass.

Feeling like I've wasted enough time avoiding work, I flip my turn signal and make a left onto the main road.

The clock behind the counter reads fifteen to ten when I drag my feet into the shop. I find Randall in the office on the phone placing orders. Silently I wave, placing my purse in its usual spot on his desk next to the wall. He is caught up in his call, waving me away with a quick smile. The register tills are in place and ready when I inspect them. We stocked the entire store yesterday, I have nothing to do but wait for our first customers to arrive. I scoot a stool up to the counter and sit with my elbows propped on the glass. A stack of magazines occupy the minutes until Randall finishes his orders.

"Sorry about that, I'm trying to think ahead. Since you're leaving me next week I have to make sure I can survive on my own. Sure, I'll have to hire help. I'm just putting it off until the last minute. You know, like a typical guy." He slides the magazine I'd been flipping through out of my grip, examining the open page. It's about summer flings and signs they might last. Oops.

"That's not smart, Randall. We should put up a sign in the window and conduct interviews before I leave. Do you know how close it is to summer? You need to train a new hire before you get that big rush. What are you going to do when tourist season begins and you have an inexperienced trainee?" I snatch the magazine back from him, placing it onto the stack next to me.

"There's a Help Wanted sign somewhere in the office, I'll find it at lunchtime." His gaze darts to the entrance.

The door jingles, a gentleman in his early seventies slowly strolls in, a woman, younger but up there, close behind him. The man in high cut khaki pants with a nearly sheer white cotton button-up short sleeved shirt. On his wrinkled head sits a hat reminiscent of Indiana Jones. The woman with him has on a stylish red and pink floral dress with tan orthopedic Velcro-strapped shoes.

"There's our boy, come here and give your mom a hug," the woman squeals hoarsely with her arms outstretched. Randall leaps the counter in one big move and is in his mother's grasp in seconds. The older gentleman stares blankly at the two embracing.

"Mom, it's a nice surprise to see you. Who drove you today, Gordon?" Randall puts his arm lovingly across her shoulders, turning to face the man I assume is his father.

"Yes, Gordon is our driver on the weekdays, you know that. Steven, say hello to your son," his mom scolds.

The man appraises his son questioningly, grunting and shaking his head. "Not my boy."

"Good to see you, too, Pop." Randall extends his hand out for his own father to shake, the man refuses grumpily.

"Don't worry about him. He's having a wiry day. Show me what you've done with the shop." She nudges him away from Mr. Andrews.

"First I'd like you to meet Alaya, my soon to be gone hire. She returns home next week and won't be back for a year. I've tried to convince her to stay but she refuses. This place will be lost without her. I'll be lost without her," Randall's voice softens to faint breath but he instantly regains his stature. "Alaya, this is my mother, Lynn Andrews."

"Ah, a pleasure to meet you, Alaya." She opens a delicate hand out to me. "If you must go, you must go. I understand that. Have we met before? Your face is so familiar, I believe we've met."

"No, I'm sure we haven't. You may be thinking of my mother, though. Our family has come here, to this town, every year for the past thirty, forty years. Mr. Andrews," I nod in the direction of the crotchety, forgetful old man, "gave my older brother his first job at the ice cream parlor when he was a teen."

"You say your family returns here every year? For a few months, correct?" Mrs. Andrews squints, examining my face.

"Yes, two months of the year, March and April." I can't stand the way she's looking at me.

"I remember your family now, lovely people, your parents are. You have your mother's face. I'd swear you were her if I didn't know better. So very odd, I haven't seen them in years. It's unfortunate they can never stay longer than two months. Please give them our best regards." She keeps a thoughtful eye on me.

"Yes, ma'am," I reply uneasily. She is scaring the hell out of me with that look.

Randall notices my unease. He swoops in to save me, guiding his mother around the store to inspect the new products and arrangements. His father, on the other hand, has taken a sudden interest in me. Mr. Andrews watches me from beneath the brim of his hat, walking to the counter with a forced grace, hands clasped behind his back. I almost don't notice the shake of Parkinson's.

"I know what you are," the elder Andrews whispers to me. "You're one of those fish folk."

My breath catches in my throat, heart frozen in my chest. Stomach in a never ending knot, I open my mouth to contest, a struggled gasp escapes. Randall explained to me that his father is losing it, dementia and all that. There's no way he's serious. But it's too much a coincidence to write off as a senile man's ranting.

"I'm sorry, Mr. Andrews, I don't understand what you're saying," I play coy.

His laugh comes out harsh and sends a shiver down my spine. "There's no use in lying girl, I knew your daddy, and I've seen what you are first hand. Don't fret, my lips are sealed, I'll never tell a soul." He snickers. "They wouldn't believe me now anyway."

"Alaya, are you alright? What's going on?" Randall waves a hand in front of my face, drawing my attention away from his father.

"Steven, what did you say to that poor girl?" Mrs. Andrews tugs on her husband's arm, dragging him to the door. "My apologies, he isn't right you know."

"I love you, call me when you get home," Randall calls after them, shooting his father a stern glare.

The door shuts behind them with its haunting jingle. I'll forever remember that moment and the way Mr. Andrews spoke to me with such certainty. The man had a spark of sanity in his eyes that I refuse to question. How did he figure it out?

"What did he say to you?" Randall grips my face in both hands, fighting for eye contact.

"I don't know," I lie, unable to tell him the truth.

"Shit, Alaya. Why can't you be straight with me? You evade every serious question I ask. What are you hiding?" Hands still on my face, his sweat beaded forehead resting against mine, startling me.

"I wish I could tell you. My life is so complicated. I can't even begin to explain the least of it. Your dad didn't bother me, please leave it alone. I have five more days left here then you can forget me." My eyes water against my will.

"All I have is more questions. Alaya, you are one frustrating, shielded girl. I'm going to break through, force you to open up one of these days. And how could I forget you, are you out of your mind? I'll think about you every day. Next year I will get the answers I want, I can wait patiently until then." His thumbs brush my cheeks. Face so close his warm breath heats my lips.

"Never say that. Never put that much faith in me, I'm not worth it."

The door jingles, our first customers of the day save me from tears. Randall yanks himself away from me, releasing his hold on my face with a slow reluctance. I pretend to count the sunglasses in the case while he greets the customers, giving myself the free moment to regain my composure. I almost gave in. Just below the surface I wanted to tell him, to free my heart from its tightly bound cage. That was too close.

By lunchtime we've had seven customers. The day is going curiously slow for a Friday. The storm threatening to hit the town is causing wild waves and unpredictable currents. The front's moving fast, projected to touch land sooner than first thought. Most people are avoiding the waters. It worries me to transition right when the storm is due to hit. But it's not like the choice is mine.

Randall is overly comforting and sweet, rubbing my shoulders with one hand as he walks by or giving me a one armed squeeze. Each touch is my kryptonite, bringing me closer to revealing the truth.

He found the Help Wanted sign and we hung it in the glass of one of the front doors. Business is so slow we're able to have an uninterrupted lunch behind the counter. We ordered in from one of the diner's he owns.

"Is your family planning a big dinner? I'll try not to snack on too much junk this afternoon so I don't ruin my appetite." Mouth full, Randall reminds me about the evening's plans.

"I'm sure my mom is preparing a feast, she's glad you're coming over." I'm not exactly thrilled.

"Cool, I've been looking forward to this dinner. Have you?" Brows raised, he pauses for my response.

"Mmhmm," I nod, keeping my mouth full of chicken tenders to avoid speaking.

"Right, Alaya the mysterious." He rolls his eyes at my silence.

The rest of the day inches on. Four more customers and we're deserted until turn in time. We rearrange the storefront to kill time. I trash the old novelty tourist racks, replacing them with freestanding glass shelves I found in the storage shed and scrubbed down. We modernized the office, getting rid of the numerous filing cabinets. I instructed Randall to keep records four years at the most and go digital filing with backup hard drives. Shredding all the old papers has taken most the day, my fingers are sore and I've been rewarded with several paper cuts in the process.

We haven't been as flirty as we normally are, but I write it off as nervousness on both our parts. Randall rushes through closing to get home. He hastily throws the cash tills in the safe, locking them in place. He has us out the doors in less than ten minutes, a new record. Dinner with my family seems to be more important to him than I first thought. On my drive home my brain flips into panic mode. If he moved that fast at the shop, he'll be at our house in no time at all.

Vallah greets me with a hug at the door in a dress fresh from my closet, a knee length, spaghetti-strapped black and pink pattern with a solid pink ribbon tied high at the waist. Her curls are pulled back on the left side, exposing her ear, held in place with a simple silver clip. The earrings are also mine, medium silver hoops with a dangling heart in the center.

"Hey, Al, I like the closet, it's so easy to find outfits now." She spins in place, holding up the hem of the dress.

"I'm glad you like it. Now help me get ready, quick." Brushing past her up the stairs, I fly around my room like a mad woman, rummaging through drawers and my closet for the perfect ensemble. Val refrains from saying a word. She is by my side putting together matching sets.

A five minute shower and I am towel drying my hair in my room, staring at the outfit laid out on my bed. A lilac sequined white tank and a light blue jean skirt that falls mid-thigh. Overdressing could give him the wrong idea about my intentions. No make-up and a high messy bun complete my casual look.

Mom set the dining room table with her finest china and gold-brimmed silverware over a creamy ivory linen tablecloth. We rarely eat in the dining room. The kitchen is the heart of our home. Every meal we eat is at the kitchen table.

Dad and Rey huddle around the television in the living room, watching some cop drama. Rey's eyes follow me as I cross their line of sight, bitter disgust glazes his focus. He's clearly unhappy about having Randall in our home. After my not so chatty talk with Mr. Andrews I'm beginning to get the feeling Rey is also hiding something big from the family. I'll probably never find out what, if anything he hides in that hateful mind.

On my heels like a lost puppy, Vallah trails my every step. I want to kick her away but it won't do me any good, she'll stand up and follow again. She promised to be on her best behavior, I know she'll comply considering her hidden agenda. Having me help her in her crusade to find the elusive witch is first on her mind.

"Val, go help Mom, please. Randall is going to be here any minute and I'm freaking out," I snap unintentionally.

"Geez, Al, relax. You're about to give yourself a heart attack. Have a seat, man." She practically shoves me backward into the living room with Dad and Rey.

"Why don't you sit for a while, Al? You're looking a bit queasy." Dad waves me over.

The channel has changed to a physical challenge game show, contestants jumping over moving cushioned panels in ridiculous suits. I dream to be one of those people in this moment, far away from home, running around like a lunatic, one goal, no human love drama.

"Humans come up with the dumbest things," Rey snorts. "Who the hell wants to act like an idiot on national television for money?"

"I find these shows very entertaining. What do you think, Al?" Dad asks me, concern in his eye.

I shrug. "I guess it's alright."

The knock at the front door causes me to jump in my seat mid-answer. My heart speeds, palms begin to sweat.

"I'll get that, must be our guest." My dad raises a brow at me quizzically, heading for the door, Rey close behind. Vallah bolts out of the kitchen lightning quick. Myself, I stay fixed in place by sheer fear. At my hairline the sweat begins to bead. Positively sick to my stomach, I fight the urge to scurry up the stairs and lock myself in the bathroom.

"Sweetie, are you planning on sitting there all night?" Mom enters the living room to check on all the commotion, slipping stray hairs behind her ears. "I believe your Randall is here, you should greet him."

"Who said he's my Randall? He's not mine, I have no idea what you're talking about," I whisper defensively.

"I-I didn't mean anything by it. Are you ill, Alaya? This behavior is out of the ordinary, and you're so pale." She reaches out to press her hand against my forehead but I back away. And to think, the majority of humans my age are close to moving out of their parent's home.

"Sia, you remember Alaya's boss, Randall." My head spins in the direction my father's voice has come from.

Randall's smile is as comforting and secure as I'd ever seen it. He towers over Vallah who bats her eyes dreamily at him. In dark jeans that are snug in all the right places and a brown and cream button-up plaid shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, he is more than drool-worthy. As he steps closer I spot a worn pair of tan cowboy boots on his feet. He's never struck me as the boot wearing type.

Acknowledgments aside, I shake off my stiff nerves and fall into a sort of familiarity with Randall and my family together. He has succeeded in making my dad laugh, and I spy my mom holding back flirtatious gestures. Vallah obviously has a full on crush which she doesn't try to hide in the least. Rey is the exception, he maintains a reserved quiet, close by but not quite included.

"Did Alaya tell you my parents send their regards? She was fortunate enough to meet them earlier today." Randall pops a salsa drenched tortilla chip into his mouth.

"No, she hasn't said much since she came home from work this evening," Mom answers politely.

"Sorry, I was distracted and forgot to mention it."

"Completely understood, sweetie," she pats my arm. "Randall, do tell your parents we return their regards. I've prepared a care basket for you to take to them, if you don't mind."

"Not a problem at all, thank you, I know my mom will appreciate that." He intentionally forgets to add his father, though I imagine he wouldn't give two shits about a basket of goods.

My mom is so proud of her meal she rushes us into the dining room. Assigned to a chair between Randall and Vallah, I wish for a seat in another country. Vallah proceeds to lean in front of me to gawk over Randall. He does his best to pacify her, giving her hope into one day working for him at one of his many business establishments.

Across from me Rey is seated, my mom beside him. Dad takes the head of the table seat, next to both Mom and Randall. Everyone gushes over dinner, course after course was prepared to perfection. Mom blushes at the compliments she receives from our guest of honor. In my opinion the night is going quite smoothly, aside from Rey's demure silence.

No one interrogates Randall as I suspected they would. My family treats him as a long known friend, joking and conversing. From what I can tell, he's enjoying himself, a sincere smile plastered on his face. Dad blabs on about all he knows of human sports, the two bonding over football talk.

I occasionally steal a peek at Rey, observing his reactions and body language. My brother hides his emotions well, but I see the twitch in his eye and the muscle in his shoulders tense when Randall opens his mouth. He spoke only good things of Mr. Andrews, but appears to have a hatred for all other humans, namely the man's son. Poor Randall is oblivious, attempting to include Rey in their conversations. He only shakes his head and drops his gaze down to the table, ignoring my parent's urges to speak up.

My mom loads Randall with leftovers and the basket for his parents at ten-fifteen. Aside from Rey's negligent attitude, the evening has gone without a hitch. I walk him to his truck, the front of the house lightly illuminated by the dim porch light.

"Thank you for having me over for dinner. I know it was your parent's idea, but thank you anyway. I had a lot of fun. Your family is wonderful, you're lucky." Rather than walk to the driver's side, he opens the passenger door, setting the armload of goods on the seat. He closes the door, heading to the back of the truck. Shoving his big hand out in front of me, he asks me to join him in the bed of his truck to talk. I gladly grab his hand, allowing him to lift me up.

"We don't have much more time together, I know that. But being with you at work isn't enough. Every minute I'm with you, I find it difficult to remain professional. You don't want to complicate things before you leave, I get that. But it's not what I want." In the dim light I'm able just make out his features. Brow furrowed, eyes probing, I know exactly what he means.

"Please, Randall, I can't," I plead. "How will I survive ten months away from you if we make more of this relationship? We have to pretend we don't have these feelings for one another. It will never work out."

He reaches up, placing his palms on either side of my head, cradling my face in his rough hands. Our eyes meet for a brief moment, in his I witness the yearning I know mine conceal. I close my eyelids to shield myself from the loving beauty of his darkened blue-green eyes. He mistakenly takes it as my concession, crushing my lips with his. I'm instantly lost in the overwhelming passion of the kiss, returning it with a need unlike any other. My hands find his chest. Instead of pushing away, I grip his shirt, digging my fingers into the fabric, a button pops off, falling into the bed with a cling.

"I'll wait forever for you," he whispers against my lips. "Forever, because I love you."

Withdrawing from him, I open my fingers, releasing his shirt, pressing my palms to his chest. His hands drop from my face to cover my own.

"You should go now," I whisper, shoving him back. I jump out of the truck as fast as possible, running into the house without looking back, slamming the door behind me.

"Al, what happened?" Vallah chases me up the stairs to my room.

Tears burn my cheeks. I sink into my bed face first to drown them out. For the first time in her life Vallah sees me cry. Her warm body snuggles close to mine. She lays her arm across my shoulders, murmuring comforting words my crying muffles out.

"He-said-he-loves-me," I gasp out between sobs. What the hell have I done? He can't love me, I can't love him. Aside from the fact that he hardly knows anything about me, the impossibilities of our love stretch further than the ocean. My heart is full and breaking at the same time.

"Shit, Al. It's ok, I don't know how but it will be ok." She squeezes her other arm beneath my waist, hugging me close. I drift into an emotionally exhausted sleep in my little sister's embrace.
Chapter Nine

I wake to an emotional hangover. My brain feels like it's slamming itself against my skull making my stomach churn. In my chest my heart aches dully, giving me the urge to clutch at the flesh above it. Limbs numb, I fight to roll over, Vallah's sweaty body preventing me from moving. If I roll the other way I'll fall off the bed. Her drool begins to soak my pillow. Sitting up to escape the river of saliva, I brace myself for the pain of moving too quickly. Swinging my legs over the side of the bed, I touch the rug with the tips of my toes. They're tingling with leftover sleep.

Grunting and gentle slurping alerts me to a wakening Vallah. I peer over my shoulder to catch her wiping her face clean with another of my pillows. She flips it over, tucking in the sides to hide her crime.

"Val, you are deplorable. Were you going to let me sleep on that without a word? You little ass!" I smack her arm. "How many times have you done that?"

Smiling slyly she replies, "A few."

"Val, next time I let you sleep in my room you get the floor with your own pillow and blanket. Ugh, I'm hurting this morning. This is not the time to gross me out."

"I know, Al, I'm sorry. That's why I didn't bother you to help me last night."

"Thank you for staying by my side. And thanks for putting your plans on hold." She didn't think twice about supporting me. I do have the best sister any human or mermaid could ask for.

A few minutes after seven we head down to the kitchen together to rummage for sweets before breakfast. With platters of cookies, ice cream, icing, and brownies, we sneak back up the stairs to my room.

Sandwiching buttercream icing between two chocolate chip cookies, I'm attempting to induce myself into a sugar high. Stuffing my face with treats alongside my new partner in crime, I stress my day ahead. Facing Randall after our kiss, as chaste as it may have been, would be the most difficult feat I've faced since meeting him. I didn't return his vocally expressed affection, I ran like the coward I am.

"What happened last night, Al, besides Randall professing his love for you and you crying yourself to sleep?" Ice cream dribbles down the corner of Val's mouth as she talks.

"He kissed me," I mumble, unable to look at her face.

"He what? He kissed you, you didn't kiss him back?"

"I did, I kissed him back and it was...incredible." What other word could describe our kiss? Fantastic? Amazing? Breathtaking? Mind blowing?

"Do you mean sexual or incredible?"

"I'm not talking to you about sex! It wasn't like that anyway, at least not for me." It hits me, I wonder if Randall has confused sexual attraction with love. I hear humans confuse the two all the time. He may be another human male to add to that list.

"Don't treat me like a child. I know about human sex, it's all over the internet. I'm sick of everyone acting like I'm not allowed to know anything but kiddie shit. Guess what, Al, I bet I know more than every person in this house, any subject. Forget it, I have stuff to do. Good luck at work." She gathers her share of snacks and storms out of my room in a huff.

My intentions weren't to offend her, I merely meant that I can't, in my right mind, talk to my fourteen year old sister about my sex life. I can do the sex talk with her, but not about my personal experiences, or lack thereof, not yet. I know she's becoming a woman and she's ready to talk about these things. It's me, I'm not ready. Maybe it's time for me to mature and see her as she wants to be seen.

On my way to the bathroom to take a shower I knock on Vallah's door to apologize. She doesn't answer. The knob resists when I turn it, locked. Calling through the door is useless, her feelings are hurt. She needs time alone to sulk. No problem. Four more days, we return to the sea in four days. I'll have all the time in the world to make it up to her then.

A brief shower, because there's no point in wasting time standing here. I wash, no enjoyment of the warm beads hitting my dry skin. Hair in a simple French-braid with no make-up on, choosing an outfit happens to be my most complicated decision of the morning, besides the whole Vallah thing. Blue jean capris paired with a fitted black tank top under a loose red and gray tank, topped off with gray flip-flops. I aim for extra casual and not flirty, whatever that means.

Stomach full of sugary treats, I creep past the kitchen, avoiding Mom. There are so many topics I want to bypass before work, being harassed to eat breakfast being one of them. The house is quiet with only the sounds of Mom cooking. The front door creaks loudly when I open it, so I bolt down the steps to my moped, stopping dead in my tracks two feet away.

"In a hurry this morning?" Rey asks, leaning stiffly against my moped.

"Uh, something like that. Why aren't you at work?" I tiptoe my way around him to my helmet, placing it on my head hesitantly.

"I came back for my lunch, I forgot it." His expression fails to match the words coming out of his mouth. He appears panicked and urgent.

"Oh, well, I have to get to my job now." I step close to my moped, waiting for him to move.

"Ok." He stands with his back to me. "Al, don't fall in love with that human. It would be a huge mistake. Trust me, I know."

My interest has suddenly peaked. I sense the sadness in him, rolling off his body in melancholy waves.

"How do you know?"

Rey kicks the gravel at his feet, hands in his front pockets, his body swinging side to side much like an ashamed human child. I circle the moped to stand in front of him. Head down, his hair has grown out long, covering his eyebrows. I know my brother hides a lot from us, but this secret has him reverting back into his youth.

"I was in love with a human girl once, we met when I was eighteen," he reveals. "We got together every turn for three years. She was beautiful, Al. You would've liked her, I know it. I had the best time of my life with her, love was more than just a word between us."

"What happened, Rey?" I'm dying to know more. He's finally opened up, letting me into a part of his life no one knows about.

"In late April, when we were both twenty-one, she followed me to sea at the time of transition. She saw me in my true form. I didn't see her as I drifted out with the tide until it was too late. A gurgled scream tore my gaze from the endless horizon of sea. An arm stretched above the waves, grasping for something to hold onto. I dove under and swam for her Al, like I've never pushed myself before. I knew it was her. All I thought was she had to live."

"You saved her?"

"No, when I reached my love her body floated face down atop the rocking waves, lifeless. We were too far from land for me to get help. Not like I could have walked inland anyway." He snarls in disgust. "It was my fault. I should have been more careful when I left. Instead of leaving hastily and looking forward to spending time with her again, I had to pull her dead body back to land. Do you have any idea how shitty I felt? It was my fault. She's dead because of me. My heart shattered that day. I can never be the same without her, and I don't want that for you. That's why I want you to forget the idea of any sort of relationship with Randall, it can never happen."

Tears glisten in his eyes, but anger overshadows his grief. My own tears threaten to spill over.

"Why did you keep this from me? You didn't have to deal with the death of your love alone, Rey. And it wasn't your fault, no one is to blame."

"I am, Al! She's dead because of my foolishness to believe we could make it work. Promise me you won't do the same." He snatches me up by my arm roughly, squeezing enough to make my hand throb.

"I won't, Rey. I've fought my feelings. I know Randall and I will have to remain just friends." My heart ignores the nonsense that spews from my mouth.

"Fine, get to work." Without another word, Rey releases his grip and slumps up the steps to the house.

I scoot onto my moped, turning the key in the ignition. I follow the gravel to the end of the drive, not bothering to look back. My heart is heavy with Rey's revelation. No wonder he hates returning to land, he must relive the pain of losing his love to the sea every year.

The sun is hidden behind a blanket of dark gray clouds, a sign of the oncoming storm. My phone buzzes to life in my pocket. I keep on my route to work, reminding myself to check it when I get there. Several shop owners are out boarding their windows in preparation for the bad weather. At least some humans are taking it seriously.

Randall's figure is visible from a block away, pacing in front of the shop entrance, his truck the only vehicle in the parking lot. When he catches a glimpse of me pulling into my usual space he freezes, expression unreadable.

"You're late. I tried to call you. I didn't think you were going to show up today." He holds his cell phone out to me as if proving he'd called.

"I got held up in family issues. Sorry," I mutter. My helmet still on, I jump off my moped, stalking past him into the shop.

"Don't you dare storm ahead of me, Alaya. You have family troubles, fine, but don't shut me out after last night." Randall locks the glass door behind him as he follows me in. He flips the sign on the door to read "Closed" from the outside.

In the office I lay down my purse, keeping my back to Randall. Hovering over me, he breathes heavily as though he'd just run a marathon on his way in. The heat of anger rolls off him causing the hair on the back of my neck to rise. My helmet on top of my purse, I pat my braid down, pushing stray hairs into the twists. Ears burning, I twist my neck to catch a hint of him from the corner of my eye. Mouth a thin line held tight in anger, his eyes reveal a different story. They're soft, welcoming, almost pleading in that way.

"Nothing happened last night, Randall, nothing. In just a few more days we can both forget one another and go on with our lives. I have enough on my plate without adding any more stress, let it go." The voice that leaves my mouth isn't my own, it's cold and broken. I don't want any of this, to hurt him, to hurt myself.

"Bullshit. You don't mean that. I know, Alaya, I know you felt the same thing I did," his voice cracks. "You love me. You. Love. Me. And all I'm asking is for you to admit it."

"How are you so sure? How do you know that this isn't lust? Besides, saying the words aloud won't make a difference. We can't be together," it's my turn to crack, "ever."

Arms wrap around my shoulders, crossing one over the other beneath my chin. The scent of his body envelopes the air around me. He presses the front of his body against the back of mine, in a nonsexual embrace, that holds a strong hint of sensuality. Warm breath hits my ear in uneven gusts.

"We can be together, you and I. So you leave for a while, I can wait."

My body melts into his, a perfect puzzle piece. I lean my head back onto his shoulder, allowing him to nuzzle into my neck. Heat rushes to my face, his touch beginning to make me want things I've never before wanted, sensations warming in places I haven't felt before.

In my mind I picture his hands running down the front of my body, one sliding up my shirt to rest on my naked stomach. I imagine his other hand sliding down between the front of my capris and my skin, over my panties. Inadvertently I moan aloud, immediately ashamed. I tense, awaiting his reaction. This is going from tame to rated R with one touch, all in my mind.

"We can make this work. You mustn't resist, though." Randall doesn't release me. Either he's ignoring that awful noise or he cares so little of it. He kisses my neck in a gentle row to my jaw line.

"Tell me you love me."

Lowering his arms to below my breast, he has my arms pinned at my sides.

"Three words, that's all I ask."

Breathily I reply, "No."

My body reacts differently to the lone word, sinking deeper into his.

"You don't mean it." His grip loosens enough for this forbidden human to turn me to face him. I allow it, giving in to the physical call of my body. Hands on his chest, I slide them up his muscular upper body, relishing in the contours through his T-shirt.

"Say it," he whispers.

"No." I grab his face with both hands, drawing his lips to mine. He smiles against my mouth, returning my desires by kissing me roughly. I've never been kissed in such a way. I part my lips to protest only to be met with a moist tip of tongue. My own tongue reacts by wrestling his just inside my mouth.

Thunder rumbles outside, inside the shop a storm of its own is brewing. Randall and I are locked in a passionate tornado of emotion, my hands exploring his body through his shirt, searching for a way underneath. I can't escape. His lips trap mine in a welcome hold. The compact room is closing in on us causing me sweat. I want to rip my clothes off to rid myself of the heat, but my hands cling to his chest.

Randall pushes against me, backing me up until I'm nearly sitting on the desk. His rough hands grip my hips. I feel the restraint he fights to control in himself. He's working to keep his hands from roaming my body, to keep them from doing something we might both regret.

"Why can't you say it?" he groans. "Tell me you love me."

Thunder vibrates the ground beneath us enough to cause our lips to withdraw from their tangle. Rain pounds the roof of the shop in a cascade of drumsticks on a snare. The lights flicker, the first signs of losing power. If the power in the shop does in fact go out, a backup generator will kick on the emergency lights. Outside, the weather is just building up to what will be the monstrous oncoming storm meteorologists have warned of approaching in a few days. No one wants a wave runner or a boat rental today.

"We should leave, Randall. It isn't safe for me to travel on my moped in this weather. If I leave now I can make it home before the roads flood."

I desperately want to stay. Every inch of my body protests what my mind knows is right. I have to get out of here.

Randall's hands fall from my hips, head down, he takes a step back.

"The road is already too much for that dinky little toy you drive. I'll take you home, but you know we could stay here for the night." His brows rise at the query. He sure is hopeful.

"No, staying we risk getting stuck here until the storm passes. My family leaves Wednesday, I have to leave with them." I snap my mouth shut to prevent myself from saying more, from giving him the true reasons behind my actions.

He nods in understanding, giving wide berth for me to pass with my purse and helmet in tow. I know he's disappointed. It paints his face in lines of worry, wrinkles that don't belong there. Shoulders hunched, he trails behind, making me feel like more of an ass than I already do.

"Shouldn't we board up the windows?" I point to the glass. Beyond the safety of the shop, the weather worsens. Lightning slashes through the darkened sky in vibrant whites and purples.

"No, it won't get that bad," Randall replies, hardly glancing at the skies twice.

He unlocks the door, pushing it open a hair. The wind yanks the door handle from his grasp, throwing it fully open. Noise of heavy rain and the crackle of thunder mixed with the wind explodes through my eardrums. Using the remote attached to his keys, Randall unlocks his truck from the doorway, pushing me out into the elements toward it. I run to the passenger door, soaked head to toe when I climb into the seat. Through the flooded windshield I watch Randall lock the shop, fighting to get the door to shut again.

"I really think we need to board the windows, Randall," I tell him as soon as he sloshes into the driver's side. I eye the glass bowing slightly against the wind. "I saw other shops boarding up on my way in. It's only a precaution, better safe than sorry."

"Every one of my businesses has insurance. Besides, I know the storm won't hit us to that extent." He shoves the key into the ignition, starting the truck with a roar. Flipping the windshield wipers on, he checks the back window for clarity. Just when I think he's forgotten my moped he gets out and throws it, without much effort, into the bed of his truck.

"Thanks," I say when he squishes back into the driver's seat. He's drenched from the rain. His shirt has become a second skin.

"You're welcome."

Randall maneuvers over the quickly flooding roads. I'm pretty sure we hydroplane half the way to my house. None of the shops are open. Ninety-five percent have their windows boarded. We pass one car on the drive home. Humans are smart to keep home in this weather. I wish I can say the same for Randall. He is one of the stubborn ones.

He drives focused, scaling the mud to get around impossibly deep puddles. I watch his face for any reactions to the surprises outside. My heart is going a mile a minute. He acts as if he's driving on an average day. The biggest change in his expression is the slight squint of his eyes when we hit a puddle covered ditch, the truck dips and bounces in recovery. Is he putting on a brave front for me? Or is he always this calm in a potentially life-threatening situation? Will I ever find out? Probably not.

It's not yet noon and the sky has darkened beyond daylight hours. My house is a blur of yellow through the windshield. Almost every light in the house is on. The front porch light glows in the haze of rainfall. Dad's white Jeep is parked beside Mom's under the lit carport. They're expecting me.

The high beams of Randall's truck glide over the house as he pulls up the drive. A smallish shadow figure pops in and out of one of the first floor windows, leaving the curtain swinging. Randall also notices. A humored smirk plays at his lips. He must have guessed it was Vallah, too.

"Wait here while I put your toy under there," he tilts his head at the carport. "I'll be right back." The driver's door slams shut, I think due to the high wind. He moves fast, my moped is nestled in with my parents' vehicles under the carport.

We haven't dried much on the drive to my house. My body begins to shiver, cold, wet clothing clinging to my body. Poor Randall isn't any better. He just showered in the rain again for me, and he still has to drive himself home. My boss, in his finely carved glory, slips back into the truck with a loud squish. His hair drips a waterfall of rain into his eyes. He wipes his hair back with his palm. His shirt is basically see-through it's so soaked. I find myself staring at the well cut body it clings to.

"It doesn't look like the shop will be open again until after this weather front passes over, I won't be able to say goodbye."

He means that he won't see me again before we go home. This will be our last day together until next March.

"I guess we have to say goodbye now." Part of me is relieved, the other part, heartbroken.

"Like I said, I'll wait for you, as long as it takes. Your job will be waiting for you when you get back. Don't go falling in love with anyone when you get home, though," he laughs nervously.

"I don't think that's possible," I murmur. "I'm glad we met, Randall. The time we've had together has been the best I can remember. Don't change while I'm away, and you're free to fall in love with whoever you like."

"Shut up with that bullshit. See you next March?" His eager expression tells me he's dying to know.

"See you next March."

He exhales a sigh of relief. "Are you at least going to tell me you love me before you go?"

"I'm sorry, I can't. I'll see you next year, Randall." I lean over the seat, kissing him lightly on the cheek. "Goodbye."

Face inches from mine, he whispers, "I love you, Alaya. Remember me, please. Wherever you're going, remember me."

"You're impossible to forget." I reach for the handle without looking. Sliding down into an ankle deep puddle, I attempt to shut the door but the wind slams it for me. One last longing glance at the human man I love and I sprint for the house.
Chapter Ten

The beach town is flooded. Our home on stilts has water close to touching the bottom of the house. Our vehicles would be sustaining an absurd amount of damage if Dad hadn't had the foresight to have them moved to a storage facility inland. Rain cascades down the roof in sheets of heavy water. Winds pound the sides of the house. Mother Nature is giving the town a beating of a lifetime. We're stranded indoors until the transition, no one can get out. We have one large gas generator and several hand crank generators to keep power running.

Vallah has spent her remaining days locked in her room, most likely on her laptop communicating with the supposed witch followers. She told us not to bother her, not me, not even for dinner. Mom carries a tray of food to her room at the time of each meal. If she uses the bathroom or showers I never witness her leaving her room to go.

Rey and I play card games at the kitchen table for hours upon hours. Occasionally our parents join us, but the majority of the time it's just us. The power has gone off and on throughout the days due to cranks needing to be wound and the large generator requiring more gas. The longest we've lost it was six hours.

Randall hasn't called or texted since we said goodbye. My hand hovers over my phone often, but I resist contacting him, it's for the best. He knows that. By March next year we'll see where we stand with one another. Maybe he'll have moved on.

"All this rain is going to make it easier to transition tomorrow. We can hit the water from the back porch." Rey deals out the cards.

"Yea, but we have to fight stronger tides and harsh weather to get home," I remind him. I stack my cards neatly, organizing by face.

"Doesn't bother me at all. Thanks to the weather, I know Randall won't be anywhere near here when we take to the sea. Trust me, it will save you a lifetime of heartache." He flips through his cards. "Got any threes?"

"Go fish. Got any eights?"

"Go fish. Al, you know I'm right. Love with a human is doomed from the start. Are you planning on working at the rental shop again next year?"

"What are you two chatting about?" Mom places a bowl of sour cream and onion chips on the table for us.

"Nothing, Ma. Thanks, we can get our own snacks you know. We're adults, especially in the sea. Go have a seat with Dad and relax, we can fend for ourselves in this big bad kitchen." Rey waves her off politely.

"I'm sorry. My kids are all grown. Vallah is so close to maturity she's drifting away. A few more transitions and my son will have enough saved for his own land home. Not too far in the future after that Alaya will be on her own. I'm just enjoying the time I have with you now." She retrieves two glasses from the cabinet, filling them from the glass pitcher with a half and half iced tea lemonade mix.

"No, Mom, we're sorry. You can pamper us all you like, we'll always be your kids," I tell her comfortingly. "You're the best, don't ever change."

"Thank you, baby." She kisses the top of my head, patting Rey on the shoulder on her way into the living room.

I shoot him a glare to let him know not to do that again. With all that we're continuously going through, hurting Mom's fragile being is only adding to the discomfort and sorrows we already feel. He knows he was in the wrong, not for what he said but for the timing and how he said it. I want to be treated as an adult as much as he does, but merpeople live differently than humans. Under water we tend to stick together, live in a group rather than branch out alone. Our homes are more like condos or townhouses, connecting to one another. If one were to move away from the group it would be for love and to move to another group. On land, we have the option to buy homes as far away as we please, live alone for two months, or travel the world on our own.

Because of our dramatic decline in numbers, merpeople conduct an ocean-wide census quarterly to track the population. Four times a year we gather in our closest city hall and wait hours to be accounted for. At one time there were many underwater cities. We're currently down to eleven.

Our parents have every right to be concerned and want to keep us close. We're a dying species. Our kind recognize the fact that, on land, once a species is placed on the endangered species list not many make a comeback. So many species stopped existing before humans were aware of their being. Who am I to say we're going to be around forever?

Rey and I play our game until the lights go out only to remain out the rest of the day. We stuff our faces on cold sandwiches for dinner and call it an early night. We'll need the sleep for the transition. The storm is going make swimming home a fight.

The constant thunder and the wind howling keep me up most the night. When I wake in the morning it's from three hours sleep. Honestly, the weather isn't the only problem I wrestled with all night. I thought of Randall and how I'm supposed to survive the months without so much as hearing his voice. Vallah crossed my mind and how I would make amends with her when we get home. Then I wondered about Rey. How had he lived so long with such a heavy secret weighting him down? How has he remained sane?

My family gathers around the kitchen table for our last breakfast on land, Vallah included. Mom insisted she spend the last day on land with us, apparently she obliged. Rey and Dad chat of work related matters, while Mom observes her bunch with a loving smile.

We make the day matter, playing board games and discussing our plans for when we return to water. Laughing, joking, and chatting it up like nothing is different. I relish every moment with them. Even Vallah can't help but enjoy herself. I know better, though. I know the truth behind Rey and Vallah's joyous eyes as well as my own. We're all hiding something from one another and our parents. As far as I'm aware I finally know all our dirty little secrets. My parents are the only ones I am sure have nothing to hide. Come full dark none of it is going to matter. We can find normalcy again.

At the time of sunset (according to Rey's watch due to the storm hindering our sight), Mom double checks to be sure the house is spotless while Dad boards up for security rather than the storm. We're unable to return for ten months, our house remains lifeless until then. Proper measures are taken to ensure our only land belongings are safe and in place when we get back.

"See you guys at home," Rey hollers through the wind. He disrobes in place and dives off the back porch into flood water. Mom gathers his clothes to take in the house.

"Can I swim with you?" Vallah appears beside me watching Rey drift away. "Mom and Dad will make me hold their hands if I go with them."

I smirk. They would keep her close. "Sure. Don't swim out of my sight, though."

"I won't, promise."

"Pinkie?"

"Yea, Al, pinkie promise."

We remove our humanly wears, standing side by side. I grab her hand, just for the jump so we won't get separated on impact. The water is freezing cold, but our bodies quickly adjust. As Rey did, we let the current pull us out to sea. The transition still has a few minutes to take effect. Swimming in our human form exhausts all merpeople. Bobbing at the surface I observe our house shrinking in the distance. Our parents had jumped in shortly after us. The rain is falling too heavily to see them through.

The first twinges of the transition spread throughout my legs. Vallah whimpers, she's having them too. A cramp in each thigh prevents me from treading water. I sink below the waves. My legs are stiff. I no longer control their movement. The once wriggling toes on the tips of my feet are gone. An invisible force is stretching and pulling at my ligaments to form fins. Skin sheds way to soft scales. Muscle melds as one. My lower body stitches itself together. Regaining feeling, I search for Vallah. A few feet away from me she has also completed her transition.

The current tugs and whips at us beneath the surface. The storm is ravaging the sea. With all my strength I fight to reach Vallah. Her face twists in discomfort as she attempts to extend her hand to me.

"Ready to go?" she asks. To human ears her voice would sound like a wordless, melodious song, high in pitch, but beautiful none the less. Communication under water requires less effort.

"Lead the way," I answer.

Deeper we dive into what human eyes would perceive as blackness. Another benefit of our kind, under water, our eyes see every detail in the same clarity as in light. Night vision, humans call it.

The further below we travel the easier it becomes to move. The storm doesn't quite reach the bottom of the ocean.

A family of bottle-nose dolphins welcomes us back. They're joined by two new additions to their herd. The babies circle us in smooth precise movements, catching our scent. Vallah reaches out to one who recoils at her touch. The other more curious calf inches closer to her. It squeals in amazement. We're the first of the merpeople it has met.

Dolphins have to be the most intelligent beings in the world, land or sea, besides us. For our kind they are the easiest to communicate with, our language is adaptable. The frightened little calf cautiously approaches me. I don't want to scare her, so I keep my hands close. She nudges my fin, drifting up to inspect my face.

"Hello," I sing to her. "I'm Alaya, and this is my sister, Vallah." Reaching slowly I tap Vallah on the shoulder.

The calf understands immediately, swimming to her mother. "Family," she clicks.

"Yes, family," I respond. "Friends." Extending my hand out for her mother, I keep my demeanor calm. She swims ahead of her calf, rubbing her snout under my palm to show we're acquainted.

The herd escorts us home to our city. We sneak by the den of a giant octopus, forty foot tentacles whip out from the cave entrance. The calves squeal a warning before swimming under the comfort of their mother's fins.

A crowd of merpeople gathers in the center of our city. Census time. Our dolphins leave us at the border, hovering long enough to make sure me and Vallah are home safe. Rey is waiting for us with our friends. The mandatory count will have us all in the middle of the city until each merperson has returned and been accounted for. Usually we celebrate, but this night the water around us is a buzz with trepidation. Already several families are missing loved ones.

"Did you hear about Thalan?" "Where's Isla?" Name after name is harmonically sung in panicked query.

"Lana and Grayfin say they lost contact with their eldest son while on land. Grayfin told me Orson was also on the hunt for the witch. He had a place right up the road from our land house." Rey's worried gaze drifts to the couple on the furthest side of the crowd. They are older than our parents by a good twenty years.

"So maybe Orson found the witch," Vallah suggests happily.

The second time I hear the name my brain clicks into action. Orson, their son's name is Orson and he lived close to us. It has to be a coincidence. There is no way they're talking about Veronica's Orson. Is it even a possibility?

"Val, the witch doesn't exist. Orson probably met a girl while on land and they swam off somewhere secluded upon transitioning." Rey's tone is unconvincing.

"How old is Orson? Maybe I saw him once or twice in town." Maybe I saw him with Veronica at the rental shop.

"He's close to your age, maybe a little older. We used to hang out with him by the Great Barrier Reef when we were young. You don't remember him? Val wouldn't she's a bit too young."

"I'm always too young," she pouts.

I reach into the depth of my memory, desperately trying to picture who we used to go to the reef with. Many of them relocated to get away from constant human interference. Some died because of it. I can remember three merkids dying due to commercial fishing boats hitting them or catching them in their nets. Other than the few we still speak with, I can't remember Orson.

It's an extraordinarily rare occasion when a merperson is caught. When it has happened, each occurrence has ended differently, always in death though. Many times humans become frightened and confused which causes them to kill us. Several died from shock when they were caught. One mermaid that I know of was successfully caught. It was back before my time, close to a hundred years ago. They held her for almost month in a tank somewhere inland. She later died when humans attempted to dissect her for science. We've been able to destroy any evidence that we exist while on land. Thanks to our nature given defense mechanism, when we die our bodies liquefy minutes after our hearts stop beating. There is no evidence left behind for humans to analyze.

"Al, do you remember him?" Rey touches my arm. His hair is darker under water without light to reflect his natural highlights. It floats off his head in spikes that reminded me of soft grass in the wind.

I shake my head, turning my attention on finding our parents. The missing Orson isn't the one I met on land, I'm positive he isn't.

As the crowd grows, I become impatient. The census is hours long and completion awaits the arrival of every family. Usually I have no qualms with swimming around, chatting with friends. But I've got enough to think about without the talk of missing merpeople making me uneasy.

Mom and Dad meet with some of the older merpeople to help conduct the census. Paper is nonexistent underwater. We use water lily leaves or the leaves of other aquatic plants. By carving into the leaves with a sharpened piece of coral or rock we obtain the same effect of writing on paper.

After five hours of counting and recounting, we discover four of us haven't returned. Apparently no one has any idea where they are. Upon sending word by way of dolphin to the closest neighboring city it's revealed that three of their own have neglected to come back. The censuses held at the time of transition to water never have such discrepancies. In all of history maybe two in all of the sea hadn't returned. The city is in an uproar.
Chapter Eleven

Each merperson has a job, though the goal of one's job isn't an earned income. Merpeople work together with a greater sense of community and equality than other species', to obtain a common goal. Continued existence. We function under the rule of a group of elders who remain far and away for their own safety. For the most part we manage without their input, obeying laws that supersede the dawn human beings. Only matters of great importance require the insight of the elders, the sudden disappearance of so many of our kind would be one.

Word, carried along by dolphin messenger, came from the elders. We are expected to remain calm and to execute a strict course of action in search of our missing. The underwater community is on official lockdown until the whereabouts of the missing merpeople is brought to light. Contact between cities has been reduced to dolphin message carriers. Four are missing from our city alone. Thalan, Isla, Cera, and Orson all failed to contact their families. Ranging in age from eighteen to thirty, they all shared a common interest, finding a witch.

Nine days of seclusion to our homes, one representative from each family is allowed to leave for food and to meet in the center of the city for recent news. Search efforts were exhausted in the first three days. Our people must wait ten months before looking for clues on land. The best our elders think up is forcing us into isolation which won't last much longer.

Dad represents our family in the city, bringing the news of the seas home. He brings life changing information home with him on our last day of isolation.

"They found her."

Thinking he meant one of the missing mermaids, Mom gasps in relief. We rush him for details.

"Which one did they find? Is she alive?" Mom presses frantically.

"No, love, a witch, they found a sea witch. She's ten miles off the coast of Bermuda. The city near there sent word that she's extremely dangerous and hates humans. Unlike merpeople, she can take human form at any time and she's agreed to aid us in locating our missing."

I can honestly say on behalf of my siblings and mother, we are flabbergasted. Of all the things he could've said, that is not what we ever would've expected. A real witch, aquatic at that, has been found. I owe Vallah the biggest apology.

"A witch?" Vallah screams. The sound flows from her mouth in a long high pitched note that would startle whales. "We have to meet her. Can she change us? What are her powers?"

"Val, no, there will be no direct conversing with the witch. She will be back and forth between land and sea assisting us. She's working closely with the residents of Triangle City, closest to Bermuda," Dad chides.

Vallah huffs off to her room, tail fin whipping behind her.

"What does this mean for us, Dad?" I'm just trying to find out how much longer we're expected to wait stuck inside our house. Secretly, I'd like to know more about the witch.

"Tomorrow morning the housing isolation is lifted. We're free to come and go as we please, but we have mandatory check in points posted along the border of city. When you leave you must stop at the point and give a description of where you're going and when you are expecting to return. This remains in effect until all merpeople have been found."

Understandable, but shitty all the same, checkpoints will make coming and going a trip and a half. Not like there's anywhere specific I plan to go, but if I do come up with something, I don't feel like telling someone every time.

Vallah swims room to room impatiently, her hair a dark flame in her wake. I see the ideas taking shape in her mind. She seeks a way to the witch, an escape. Her tail flicks furiously when she turns around, pacing back and forth. A wandering clownfish floats in through a window, crossing Vallah's path. She swats at it with her open hand, smart little thing dives out of her reach.

A hand strikes out from the room next to me, gripping my arm and pulling me in. Rey has my bicep trapped in his hand. He yanks me to the window forcefully.

"I don't want Val to hear."

"What's this about, Rey?" I demand.

He releases me, allowing his hand to sink down to his side.

"This shit is too real, witches, missing merpeople, all of it. Al, I can't handle any more. Let's say the stories are true, a witch on land has made a choice few of our kind human. What then? Before we know it they're all human. What the fuck are we going to do?" He's trembling. The water ripples around him in small lines of fear.

"What do you want to do?"

"Stay here, forever. I want to live peacefully in the sea with my family. This witch is going to ruin it. We're close to extinction, humans aren't. What do you think merpeople will choose? To remain a dying species or permanently become humans?" Rey's eyes are too wide. His nostrils flare sporadically.

He has a point. They'll choose to be human. A living witch poses a serious threat to our kind. Our kind will cease to be our kind. We'll become the beings that are ruining the world. We'll be an added burden to nature. Slowly but surely, this is bound to blow up in our faces.

"I take it you understand me clearly. Al, I'm leaving in the morning to figure this out. All I need is time to think. I can't say when I'll be back. Don't say a word as to why I'm leaving to Mom and Dad. I'll leave a note."

I think I'm supposed to stop him, prevent him from doing something stupid. I don't. Rey has survived a devastating heartbreak, watching the girl he loved die. In my book he's allowed to do whatever helps him heal and get his mind off his loss. Funny how both my brother and I fell for humans.

Vallah is no longer pacing the upper floor. The little clownfish has also disappeared. I swim to my room, gliding down the hall in one smooth movement. Our home lacks doors for privacy. Seaweed and various aquatic plants intertwine to serve as divider curtains. Brushing past the swaying leaves, I cross my room to the window facing the center of the city. Empty for the first time in centuries, our city buzzes on an unspoken restlessness. In the morning merpeople plan to flood the outskirts, searching for the answers to questions new and old. Invisible tension can be felt faintly rumbling in the waters. I glance at the row of homes parallel to ours, eyes in almost every window peering out.

Shit. This is a sign of bad things to come.

Our city is built with brick from the land and pre-existent caves, along with any natural resources we found in the seas. Everything from whale bone to bits of coral was used in the construction. The structures comfortably house over five-hundred each. Our city has ten. Not that there are many merpeople left in any city or collectively for that matter.

A blue whale sings somewhere in the distance. The long hollow humming brings the realization of how tired I am. My eyelids grow heavy. I drift to my bed, a variety of soft aquatic vegetation, releasing the excess air from my lungs, allowing my weight to settle onto the bed. Beyond my window the orchestra of the sea plays a delicate melody, soothing me to sleep.

In my bed, I wake to Vallah blowing bubbles in my face. One of our Dolphin friends pokes her head through the hole in the wall that is my window, clicking a good morning to me. Judging by the look in Val's eyes she has something mischievous in mind. I get the feeling our dolphins are in on her plan. They dart past the window.

"Let's hear it," I sigh.

"The witch is on land right now, but we can go to Triangle City and find out what they know about her." Her eyes gleam with the shine of hope. What she hopes for I only pretend not to know.

Whimpers on the floor below us send the dolphins scurrying away. I go to check on the source of the sound, finding Mom balled in my father's arms crying tears that blend with the sea. In her hands a crumpled banana leaf, presumably Rey's note. Dad looks past me, over my shoulder. I spin to see what he's glaring at. Vallah, with her mouth agape, stares right back at him. Why is he looking at her that way?

"Go to your room, Vallah. Stay there until I give you permission to leave," he orders.

She vanishes to the second floor in a flick of a tail fin. When she's out of sight he turns his attention to me.

"Your brother has left us without rhyme or reason. He had the nerve to leave a short note behind, neglecting to mention when he plans on returning."

"If he plans on returning," Mom sobs into his chest, bubbles drifting in a stream, rising from her nostrils.

"He will come back to us, dear. Hush now, he'll be back." Dad cradles her like a baby, rocking her gently. "Alaya, you are not to leave your sister's side. You leave the house, she leaves. And I expect you both back at a reasonable hour. I am confident in your ability to follow the rules and keep her safe."

"Ok." I would have contested if I cared to. In fact, I agree with him. Vallah shouldn't be trusted outside these walls. She and Rey have a similar frame of mind, they both want an escape. My fourteen year old sister will bolt at the first opportunity, leaving our parents in a greater state of disarray.

Hurrying to Vallah's room, I dodge a small school of angelfish in the hall. No glass windows or solid doors equals wandering critters. Instead of diving out the window like I thought she might, Vallah lay sprawled across her bed with a determined squint to her eyes. Her tail fin hangs over the edge in a flow of blues and yellows. The leaves of her bed quiver under the angry flick of her tail.

"Go away, Al. You're on their side. Stupid Rey should've told me he was leaving. I would've gone with him."

"He'd never allow it. And I'm not on anyone's side. I just don't want you getting yourself hurt. Give Mom and Dad time, they'll let you go out soon. I'll try to talk them into letting you come with me to the Serpent's Den later."

The recreational structure is built on the outskirts of the city where the nonconforming youth happen to hang out. It's been deemed age appropriate since they removed the "live entertainment". Teen's Vallah's age are permitted with an adult.

She contemplates my offer, eyes roaming the ceiling. "Ok."

"I'll let you know what they say." I let her stew in her funk so I can search Rey's room to see if he left anything behind. I'll give my parents some time to calm down before I attempt talking with them. The chance they're going let Vallah out of the house this soon is slim. The chance she's in her room when I deliver their answer is even slimmer.

Pushing aside the curtain of braided seaweed, I enter my brother's scarce room. A desk of brown stone sits under a window facing the hand carved pillars of the perimeter of our city. The desk, simple in design, is a flat top on three upright sheets of matching stone forming a partial box. Other than the bed, his room is utterly empty. Clothing isn't an option for us, so closets are nonexistent as well as dressers. Rey usually keeps a pearl box on his desk with what he holds private. The box is missing. He has taken with him all he owns beneath the seas.

A lone jellyfish flutters through the window, hovering above the desk then floating below it, into the dark hole underneath. A glint of something shiny catches my eye as the jellyfish explores. On the floor, in the corner where two of the support stones of the desk meet, a piece of metal hides, partially concealed in a pile of sand.

I wave the jellyfish away, reaching for the curious object. Grasping it tightly in one hand, I cover it with my other. A feeling of shame washes over me, like I've come across something I wasn't supposed to. Peering over my shoulder, I expect to find someone behind me. But no one is here, just me.

The piece of metal is rather heavy in my palm. I turn it over, identifying it as a compact, one a human woman would use. The compact is in good condition. It hasn't been under the sea for very long. A bit of rust tarnishes the hinge. Other than that, it's pristine. I flip it open with a light press on the small button. Inside the mirror on the right shines and returns my reflection. On the left an inscription that reads,

"To Mae, my heart above the sea —Rey."

My heart sinks. This compact was meant for Rey's lost love. Had he hid it here on purpose, or was this token of love dropped and left behind accidentally? He'll return for something so special. I sneak to my room to hide the trinket under the leaves of my bedding. Another thing my parents don't need to find out about right now. Vallah sure as hell isn't going to hear about this. She's already looking for another excuse to add to her reasons to leave. Love might not be what she chooses, but it would suffice as a reason.

An image of Randall crosses my mind. It could have been us. Randall is my Mae. Every fiber of my being fights the swell of emotions the thought of him causes in my heart. And even though he and I have never showed our love as they had, it's the same. A small ache in my chest forces me to shake the thought.

On the floor below, Mom is bawling her eyes out. The noise resonates throughout the house, carried in the water like sound through a speaker. Rey's abrupt departure broke her heart. Vallah running off will crush her.

I peek between the woven leaves hung in Vallah's doorway. She lay in the same position as when I left her, staring at the ceiling. The jellyfish made its way into her room, floating about in its translucent beauty. Vallah pays it no mind, continuing to lose herself in the plotting of her escape. She's my responsibility now. I must prevent her from doing anything stupid. Rey couldn't have been stopped. He's an adult and of reasonably sound mind who has no problem taking care of himself.

"I'll be right here, Al. No need to babysit me all day," Vallah huffs, shifting onto her side. She swats unsuccessfully at the jellyfish with her tail.

"You can't blame me for worrying."

"No, I can't. But I'm not Rey. I would tell you I planned on leaving."

Why bother breaking it to her that Rey did tell me?

"I'll ask Mom and Dad about tonight when Mom calms down. Will you be up here until then?"

"Yes, right here, in the same spot doing the same thing." She tosses her head back, her hair floating around her face like a blood red silk curtain.

My assumption is correct. My parents vehemently disagree to letting Vallah join me out. In turn, Vallah didn't run off as I expected. She remained in her room, unfazed by the answer they gave. I decide to stay in to keep a better eye on her. She has something up her sleeve, I'm sure of it.

Rather than make sense, my initial intuition led me astray. Vallah doesn't attempt to leave at any point. In fact, weeks go by and she resumes the life she had before any of the drama occurred, the same life only under slightly stricter rules. My parents allow her to see Tarren daily which she takes full advantage of. She's in by curfew every evening and has been on her best behavior. Shocked as I am, Dad is in disbelief she'd given in so easily. Mom is unobservant either way, retreating inward over the departure of Rey, consumed in grief and self-doubt.

Rey truly disappeared. On occasion we hear tidbits of his goings on from other merpeople he knew, not quite enough information to put us at ease. At least he's alive, we're fortunate for that. Should we count on ever seeing him again? I wouldn't write it off just yet.
Chapter Twelve

Elsewhere on the coast, with all known beings unaware, something crawls out of the water. On land, with her two lizard-like feet planted firmly in the sand, Delia, the witch of the seas uses her supernatural power to reach out to any forms of magic. She touches a few minuscule amounts, overlooking them in search of stronger sources. Pressing on to further distances, she licked her lips with the swift flick of a thin, pronged tongue, concentrating on the towns along the shores.

In her understanding she is the only sea witch, the only one of her kind. As for those on land, she isn't certain of the numbers. There might be hundreds of witches above the seas. As for under the water, Delia is the most powerful creature among the sea life.

She has to move stealthily on land to avoid detection. Her almost four-thousand years of life have been lived in solitude. For the longest time intelligent sea life weren't aware of her existence. Then this land witch decides to make her presence known, forcing Delia to step in before she herself is hunted down and blamed. Furious with the anonymous land witch, Delia knew she'd have interceded at some point, if not because of the other witch, then because of the humans destroying her seas.

Brought into the world by a cold-hearted mother, she has no knowledge of a father. Abused and neglected for years before her mother died when she was ten, she strives for a peaceful quarantine. Delia found fending for herself to be quite gratifying. Never has she pined for companionship.

Her extended power slams against a strong, dark magic in the distance. Over a thousand miles away, long the eastern coast of North America she senses what she assumes to be the land witch. This magic is unlike her own, it is ominous and deceitful. Whatever the being's intentions are, they aren't good.

Built for the water, with a head the shape of a snake's and a long slender body covered in fine scales, Delia hits the ground, crawling forward on all fours. Her fingers come to sharp points on the end of human hands, digging into the sand as she moves. Colored in a blend of light golden sands, she slithers along the beach a magnificent specimen.

The only route to the location of the land witch was by water. She'd have to swim for three days to reach the coast. Her journey has only begun. Once she reaches the coast she has to figure out what's happening to the missing merpeople. What is the deplorable land witch getting out of them? Risking her life to help merpeople she isn't familiar with has to benefit her eventually. The land witch could be thinking the same. Delia has a suspicious notion that isn't the case. The magic rolling off the eastern coast drips with venom.

Breaking for five hours sleep, she arrives at the coast in just over two days. Dragging her tired body up the shoreline, the moon glows eerily on her drying figure. Had a human spotted her, they would have described a seven foot, tail-less lizard. Summoning the strength to make herself human, she digs into the sand in pain.

Almost instantaneously the sand in her grasp feels different. Her feet no longer grip into the fine grains. They slide away from her body causing her to fall flat on her human stomach. The textures are old and should be familiar. Instead it's like feeling everything for the first time.

Delia had changed into a human only one other time, after she witnessed a passing cruise ship and wanted to see if she could mimic the forms she saw aboard. Those people wore clothing which she immediately realizes she lacks. Thinking of a simple, timeless outfit, magical cloth forms to fit her body. A canary yellow sundress with wide straps clings to her feminine figure. Standing, she brushes the sand off, admiring the color in the moonlight. She retains a part of her natural form in her hair. Sandy blonde tresses cascade in waves down her shoulders.

Utilizing her internal compass, Delia calculates her position to be along the coast of Virginia. The sun rises in a couple of hours. She has to commandeer some sort of transportation and trace the bits of magic to their origin. What little magic she senses close by is attempting to repel her from the area. Whoever controls it doesn't want any other magical beings happening by. Thoughts of a spiritual creature misusing its power causes her stomach to curl.

Of course humans don't walk everywhere they go. She wonders how they manage from place to place on land at such distances. It's her first time traveling beyond the beach. The only mode of human transportation she has seen is boats and they don't work on land as far as she's aware.

Her bare feet touch grass, then soil, and then the gravel of a road. She winces when her soles step onto the tiny rocks. Shoes, humans wear shoes. Flat brown sandals wrap themselves around her feet. A sigh of relief escapes her mouth.

Lights shine alongside the road on to her right. A dark metal beast on rotating circles speeds by her. Humans huddle inside. The thing makes a noise at her that reminds her of a boat horn, but wimpier. Startled by the sound, Delia stumbles over her own human feet. Face first in the gravel drive she falls.

"Curse these limbs, curse this body," she hisses to herself.

More lights approached ahead of her. She returns to standing, picking tiny rocks from the skin of her face. The glowing beam separates into two circles at the mouth of a metal beast. Rather than speed past, this beast slows to a stop. One of the clear protective barriers disappears into the beast, revealing a human male inside. The male appears to be in his late sixties, but the shadows could be deceiving.

"Excuse me, Miss. You look like you could use a ride." The male extends his right arm out to her, hand open. "The name's Charlie."

Unsure of what to do, Delia holds her right hand out to meet his, tapping his palm with her own before yanking it back. The male named Charlie laughs.

"I am named Delia, I'm not from here," she states simply.

"I can tell. Well, if you'd like a ride to town I can take you. The way you're headed, it'll be a while before you reach anything."

She thinks for a moment. The beasts are faster than she is. In her years of practice, she has yet to find a form of transportation that is magically induced. "Yes, I would like a ride, please. How do I get in that?"

Charlie looks at her skeptically, shrugs his shoulders and waves her to look at the side of the beast. Leaning across to her side, he opens a larger part of the barrier for her.

She returns his skeptical stare.

"Hop in girl. You act like you've never been in a car before. If you're worried about me, I'm as harmless as they come. My wife can testify to that." Charlie's innocent smile causes the crow's feet at the corners of each eye to extend to his temples.

Hesitantly, she slides into what he refers to as a car. The chair is cushioned and secured in place. Cold wind blows at her at angles she is unable to locate. Lights cover the inside of the car. Some form a language Delia doesn't recognize. Hot night air comes in through the open barrier. Tugging the shield shut, she waits for the car to move.

"You have to put your seat belt on." Charlie nods at something over her shoulder. When she fails to understand he points to the strap across his chest. She traces the strap with her eyes to its source, locating the strap on her side. Delia pulls it straight out. "Good, now click that in place right there." She listens, inserting the small metal plate into the opening he refers to.

"Sorry, I don't ride in cars where I'm from," she says nervously, feeling incredibly unintelligent.

"So I see. Do you know where you're going? Have any money? Bags? Food?"

Embarrassed, she shakes her head. The interior lights reflect off the shining waves of golden sandy hair that fall, covering her face. Life on land proves to be more complicated than she first thought. She knows so little and what she does know, she learned from maps and vacation pamphlets that were left on beaches she likes to visit. Unprepared, ashamed, and slightly afraid, Delia realizes how in over her head she is.

"My wife always cooks too much dinner for me. I swear that woman wants to keep me plump. There should be plenty of leftovers in the fridge. You're welcome to stay a night, until you get yourself situated. Nadine, my wife won't mind. She'll be on the couch, sleeping. I don't usually get home this late. But when my caseload is overflowing I stay behind to catch up. Nadine tries to keep awake for me, bless her heart."

Charlie's palatial house sits on what Delia guesses has to be on land half a league long. Humans shouldn't be allowed to own so much nature, she thinks to herself.

"Well, this is the old homestead. C'mon inside and get yourself a bite to eat, then we can figure out what your plan is." The human, Charlie, gets out of the beast, Delia copying his movements.

"Your home is too big for two hu—people," she catches herself.

"Yes, it is. I had it built years ago when Nadine and I first married. We had kids in mind when we designed this place. Unfortunately my dear Nadine discovered she had ovarian cancer the second year of our wedded bliss. Long story short, after all the treatments and heartache we were unable to conceive children of our own. We would have adopted but my wife just didn't have the heart for it anymore. I suppose we should sell the place, but Nadie loves it so."

Delia empathizes with the human in a way that surprises her. She keeps close behind the man as he shows her through what he calls a foyer. Humans are so overly extravagant, it disgusts her.

"Charles, honey, who are you talking to?" A female woman's voice echoes through the grand halls.

"Come here, dear. I want you to meet someone," Charlie calls to her.

"Oh, we have company? I wish you would have phoned so I could have been prepared."

"Nadie, this is Delia. She was walking the side of Oceanic Drive as I was coming home. Poor thing doesn't have anything with her, and couldn't tell me where she's headed. Will you take her to the kitchen and heat her up one of your delicious meals? Maybe you two can have some girl talk and straighten all this out." Charlie gives Delia a gentle nudge toward his wife.

"You poor girl. Come with me," Nadine coos.

Delia finds the kitchen to be intimidating, so many sharp objects. Nadine sits her on a stool at a platform in the center of the room. Everything unnecessary and pointless fills the room.

"This is chicken linguine. Do you like linguine?" The kind human woman asks.

"I'm not sure," Delia says honestly.

"Try it, please," Nadine urges.

Delia scoops a handful of food into her mouth, chewing and slurping the noodles. A delightful sensation fills her mouth. She scoops more into her mouth, dropping pieces all over her yellow dress.

"Oh my. Honey, don't you want to use a fork?"

Delia mumbles a reply. She doesn't know what a fork is.

"Don't worry over it. We'll talk about it later. For now let's focus on where you're from and where you're going?"

The sea witch swallows the half chewed clump of linguine, nearly choking. "I'm from across the sea. I'm looking for someone not far from here."

"So you're on a trip, where are your belongings?"

"I lost them," Delia lies.

"Your money too?"

She nods her head.

"This will not do at all. Who is this person you're looking for? Is there anyone you can call to help you?" Nadine appraises her in concerned understanding.

"I'm searching for a long lost friend. And no, I'm alone. I don't have any family to contact."

"Poor thing, poor, poor thing. Charles, come here please!" She shouts. "You will stay with us until you find your friend. Do you have any skills? Anything you're good at that we may be able to pay you for? Maybe gardening?"

"You called, my love?" Charlie enters in his plaid pajamas, holding an open newspaper in his hand.

"Yes, this young woman has no money and nowhere to go. She's going to stay with us and do odd jobs around the house to earn herself some money until she's able to find her friend."

"As you wish. I'll have Margaret fix one of the rooms for her." Charlie smiles lovingly at his wife bowing dramatically before turning on his heels.

"You don't have to do this for me, I'll be fine on my own," Delia protests.

"Nonsense, a pretty young woman like you out there wondering in the dark alone, you're bound to get hurt. Please, stay here, let us help you. There is a computer in my office upstairs you can use and a phone in just about every room. Anything you need you let me know." Nadine's motherly instinct has kicked in and Delia realizes it's a losing battle.

"Ok, thank you. I won't stay long, I promise."

"Stay as long as you like," Nadine urges.

Delia stretches out on the plush mattress, relishing in the luxurious comfort. Not all humans are as bad as she thought. Charlie and Nadine are surely the kindest. This is temporary, she reminds herself.

What's a computer? A phone?

"I'm going to have to recruit some assistance on this one," Delia whispers into the dark of the large bedroom.
Chapter Thirteen

In two night's time our transformation is scheduled occur. It has been months since anyone received word from the sea witch. Our brethren located close to Bermuda assures us that the job is getting done, whatever that means. A representative from their city travels throughout the seas with useless monthly updates, nothing substantial comes from the messages. We're returning to land blind. Our missing has yet to be located and an obscure land witch roams the dry surface with the insight we need.

"Dad told me to get you. We're meeting in the center of the city again for some dumb speech." Vallah floats into my room, her hair in wisps around her, deviating from the curly mess it is on land.

"I'll be down in a minute."

Merpeople huddle around in the middle of the stone structures with all the buildings of the city surrounding. Hushed hums and whistles bubble in the water above our heads. We expect to be instructed on how to act when we set foot on land. The elders would have us calmly and properly resume our land lives, disregarding the fact that so many of our kind are yet to be accounted for.

Grayson, father of nine and head community farmer, swims ten feet up to get a better view of us. A dolphin I don't recognize hovers beside him, blowing bubble rings. The merman appears weathered and tired. His sullen eyes survey our huddled city of merpeople. I begin to get the feeling he's got something to tell us that we don't want to hear.

"Family, friends, merpeople, we're here at this time to make a grave announcement. One of the missing merfolk from the city on the out skirting waters of Australia has been found." Collectively our shoulders relax, but the key word "grave" stands out in my mind.

"Unfortunately, the young merman was found floating face down in human form...deceased. His body drifted out to sea, presumably dead before he hit the water. What we fail to understand is why he didn't change form or lose form as we do when we pass on. The elders are conducting a thorough investigation into the matter. Until they discover the cause, we have been ordered to proceed cautiously on land, inquiries into the status of witches or witching is prohibited. All humans shall be dealt with as normally and carefully as possible. If you are unable to adhere to said restrictions you will be punished according to elder law. Those in fear for their safety and that of their family are welcome to group together in a previously chosen, undisclosed location for the duration of their time on land. Any questions may be directed toward me or message by dolphin carrier to the elders. I thank you greatly for your time and wish safe travels to all." Grayson bows his head, allowing his body to sink down into the crowd, disappearing among the many.

I remain stuck in place in a state of shock. What does this mean for our kind? A merman died and remained intact in human form. This is unheard of in all our history. So, say the land witch is changing merpeople into permanent humans, what then? Why aren't they contacting their loved ones to let them know?

In the pit of my stomach a knot forms. An overwhelming sense of doubt fills my mind. I doubted the existence of a witch and I was horribly wrong. Now my doubt happens to be about our future as a species. If this turns out to be a trend, we'll surely die out soon.

"What now?" Vallah asks. The crowd disperses, a scarce few of us staying behind in the center of the city.

I shrug. What does one say after that? 'Oh, don't worry about it. We'll be perfectly safe on land.' I mean, we might be, but then again we might not. Murder, suicide, accidental death, maybe his body couldn't handle the spell. Depending on the young merman's cause of death, we may never truly be safe again.

"Al," she touches my arm, "let's go home. I don't like how that guy is looking at us. Who the hell is he?" Vallah eyes the suspicious merman.

"I've never seen him before," I tell her.

Blue-tinted black hair would fall carelessly into his eyes if he were above water. It moves with a life of its own. He has to be the length of a blue whale away and even then I see that his eyes are intensely dark, so close to black they can't be any other color. He's handsome, in a dangerous way. The scales of his fin are the most vibrant shades of reds and oranges as though they were painted in honor of a sunset.

I back away, Vallah leading me, my eyes glued to the stranger. Disturbingly, he stares back, blankly. No one else seems to notice the strikingly handsome merman. I find that to be equally unsettling. Vallah has a hand on my shoulder, guiding me to our house, but I decide to take a different route, in hopes of throwing off the newcomer.

Spinning out of her grasp, I shoot her a look to let her know she needs to follow me. She catches on immediately. The windows and doors on our houses are all open entrances. We have such tall, sturdy homes for privacy and protection against the elements. Much of the aesthetic is for visual pleasantry alone. Around the rear of our house we swim up to Rey's window, dodging away from prying eyes.

His room is as empty as he left it, minus one compact. My tail brushes the surface of his desk. I duck close to the floor on the left side of the window, watching Vallah glide in. Slipping down in the concealment of the desk, she peers over the top, looking out the window. Whatever she spots spooks her. Eyes wide she swims to me, belly dragging along the floor.

"He's out there, looking up at the windows."

"What does he want from us? I shouldn't have stared at him for so long, it's my fault. Now he probably thinks we know something." I try to hide the panic in my tone but it's becoming increasingly clear that our stranger is up to something odd.

"No, Al. I caught him watching us way before you noticed him. That guy is so creepy. Do you think he's alone?"

"I have no idea. Let's hope so because I don't know what we're going to do about one, let alone several. Is he still out there?"

Vallah pokes her head above the desk once more to check out the window. She straightens upright, body relaxed. "He's gone, but I don't know where to. This isn't cool, what are we going to do about him?"

"There's nothing to do. I guess we can go tell Dad, but he might not think much of it. Honestly, we go to land soon, until then we stay close and pretend this never happened. For all we know he mistakenly thought he knew us from somewhere. You're not leaving my side unless this mess gets hashed out. Do you hear me?"

"Sure thing boss," she salutes jokingly.

I hardly slept. I kept an ear open for anything out of the ordinary. When Vallah wakes, I've had only an hour or so of sleep. No sign of the mystery merman that night or all day. We stick to our usual routine, always looking over our shoulders, expecting to run into an unwelcome guest.

Much it our surprise he's nowhere to be seen. Day drifts into evening and Vallah floats up toward land with me, unfazed. She has no qualms with heading to land this time. Our painful transition begins halfway to our destination.

A stench of burning other fills the night air. When I breach the surface I inhale deeply, choking on the charred thickness. It's a first for me. The blackened sky, void of stars, appears as an empty nothing, a lifeless forever. In the pitch dark Vallah coughs somewhere to my left. Without the luminescence of the many reflections of our underwater world neither of us are able make out the shore through the fog. Relying on instinct and our senses to swim to shallow water, we rise when the wet sand buckles under our knees. My freshly formed toes sink into the moist sand, I wiggle them free. Due to the flooding before we left, we were unable to leave dry clothes near the shore. We have to find our way home, in the foggy dark, naked.

Dry sand sticks to my skin. I kick up clumps as I run. Vallah complains of the mess hitting her as she trails behind me. Pain stings the soles of my feet. Rocks and other debris are underfoot. My poor sister whines and winces, slowing. I pray no one finds us like this. Humans treat nudity far differently than our kind does.

Ahead the lights of beach houses illuminate the coast like a string of those Christmas lights I've seen pictures of. Vallah picks ours out of the bunch, racing for the safety of home. A couple on their deck are too enamored with one another to notice us scurrying by. On the rail of the steps leading up to our deck lay two big beach towels. We each grab one, haphazardly wrapping our nude figures and bolting up into the house to properly dress.

"Alaya, sweetie, there's a letter for you on the table. Your father found it on the floor by the front door," Mom announces.

She struggled so hard to regain her sanity when Rey left. It took months and there were times we weren't sure she'd get better. But here she is before me, radiant and happy. I know somewhere deep inside she holds her pain in a hole where no one can see.

"Thanks, Ma." I kiss her cheek.

On my way back up to my room, I tuck the letter under my arm so my hands are free to carry a glass of water and an apple. Dressed in black jersey shorts with a white tank top, I prep to eat my snack and go to sleep. The last thing I thought I'd be doing right now was sitting on my bed, opening a plain white envelope with my name written simply on the front.

Scanning the handwritten letter, my eyes do a double take at the name signed at the bottom. Randall. I come close to losing the contents of my stomach. The date at the top tells me he left it under the front door five months ago. My mind hasn't read the words, it's not working to comprehend them at the moment. Trembling, I set the single piece of paper next to me on my bed. I thought of Randall often, but with so much happening under the sea I suddenly feel guilty for not thinking of him more.

My eyelids suddenly have tiny invisible sandbags on them, drooping down to blur my vision. I wasn't so tired moments ago. Out of the corner of my eye I spot the emptied glass of water and apple core on my nightstand, I don't remember finishing them. When I get the chance, I'll have to talk to Randall again. Shit.

"Al, Al, Al, Al," Vallah's annoying chimes throb in my head. "Randall really missed you. When are you going to see him? He's so hot. Do you hear me, Al?"

"Yes, I hear you." Groggily I roll over to snatch Randall's letter out of her hand. "Let me shower and get dressed. I'll meet you downstairs."

Vallah smirks, glancing at the letter I scrunched in my grip. Making a point to wrap her arms around herself she gives me kissy faces as she backs out of my room, stumbling slightly into the hallway wall across from my door.

A brief shower fully refreshes me. Brushing my hair above water is new sensation again, tangles and sopping wet strands welcome. Deciding to let the mess on my head dry naturally, I skip to my clean closet to scope out the day's outfit. I pull on light blue-jean capris and pair them with a zebra print sleeveless top. On the shelf I find a white handbag to match. My white and silver sandals in hand I stride downstairs to eat my first breakfast since returning to land.

Half way down the stairs the scent of blueberries and ham has my mouth watering. Rounding the corner into the kitchen the smell grows stronger. On a Lazy Susan in the center of the kitchen table is a bamboo bowl of softball size fresh blueberry muffins, next to it a plate of sliced ham. Numerous bowls filled with hash brown potatoes, sliced fruit, and other fixings crowds the table. My stomach grumbles loudly at the sight.

At the table with Mom and Vallah load a plate with heaps of everything. I missed land food so much. You can eat seafood on land, but you can't eat land food in the sea. Land life has so many more options.

Mom briefly mentions Rey during breakfast without suffering a breakdown. She tells us how he met Dad at work at their usual time this morning. I guess he plans on continuing his land life, just without us. Apparently he has it all mapped out. Mom herself had the entire time at sea to adjust to the fact that Rey isn't coming back and she doesn't seem too torn up over it anymore. At least judging by her reaction on the outside.

Vallah pays the news no mind. She desperately begs to accompany me on my trip to the rental shop. Doing her best to put on a sad face, she whines when I tell her she can't tag along.

I say my goodbyes, heading out to the carport for my moped. Fortunately, Dad must have picked up my moped when he got his Jeep from the storage facility. Mom's Jeep isn't under the carport. He'll have to take her to pick it up later.

Our home sustained minor damage compared to the others on our block. Missing roof shingles, siding torn off, our back porch is even short several planks. Many of our neighbors weren't so lucky. The Martins to our left lost their carport and half of their roof. A few houses down one of the rental properties had its foundation crumble, the entire structure collapsed. All the damage had been repaired in our absence, but the signs are still here.

On the ride into town I survey the fresh new signs and storefronts. The quaint jewelry boutique across from the ice cream parlor no longer stood, in its place, a clean slab of concrete foundation. The ice cream parlor itself boasts a colorful new sign done in red, blue, yellow, green, and purple. More shops than I can count were either demolished and gone, or fully rebuilt. I wonder if I should have called Randall before heading over. In lieu of the removed shops, many businesses I've never heard of have been erected, competition to the pastry shop and a couture dress store among them.

I turn right off the main street, toward Randall's rental shop. From the road I see the marina, hundreds of boats gone, private and rentals. The houseboats are completely absent from the waters. It's a ghost town, of boats of course. Initially I assume the boats may have gotten destroyed in the storm. I quickly realize the people of the town are absent as well.

The front of the rental shop has recently been remodeled. Plain, dark tinted glass replacing the clear, cluttered, painted one of the storefront window. Motorized sliding doors where the standard pull ones once were, clearly labeled. Atop the roof a neon sign reads, "Andrews Family Rentals". A modern contrast to the hand painted, whimsical sign I grew to adore. Painted and clean, the entire storefront is almost unrecognizable.

I check my cell phone for the time. Ten-thirteen, Randall has to be in. My hands shaking, I reach for a handle that isn't there, jumping back when the doors hiss open. No jingling of bells.

The interior of the shop proves to be as different as the exterior. Dark gray concrete for the floor would have made the place dreary if it wasn't for the bright new florescent light fixtures in the ceiling. Everything is new, racks, wall mounts, wall pegs, and displays. The sign out front told me this is the same shop, but inside is another story.

"Welcome to Andrews Family Rentals. I'm Lex, let me know if there's anything I can help you with." A young man/boy steps from around a display rack filled with goggles. He looks about sixteen, but he stands close to five-eleven. Lex, as he called himself, appears to be attempting to unsuccessfully grow facial hair, it sprouts unevenly in random patches along his rounded jaw line. His big brown eyes are eager to please. Now that I think of it, Lex has to be at least eighteen, unless he enrolled in a work release program at his high school. Well, maybe he dropped out.

"Actually, you can help me. Is Randall here?" I ask the canary haired man/boy.

"Oh, yea, the boss is out back working on the wave runners. He raises a brow, nodding to the remodeled back wall where a set of matching sliding doors are centered.

"Thanks, Lex."

The back didn't miss out on all the renovating. A steel sheeted shed connects to the building with metal support braces. Twenty feet long with two doors propped open, the shed wasn't there last year.

I approach with hesitation. Inside the structure I hear the scrape of metal against metal. He's in there. My heart races, nerves bubbling on edge. Sweat beads on my forehead, the sun is killer today. The closer I get the louder the noise.

A warm amber light in the shed hangs above his head as he leans over the wave runner. A monstrous industrial fan blows onto him from its stationary spot closest to the main building. Randall is without a shirt. Even with the fan on, he's layered in sweat. His hair, grown out an inch or so longer, matted against his forehead. My heart pounds heavily in my chest, sight of him for the first time in almost a year still sends a rush through me like I've never known before.

"Hi," my voice cracks.

His head snaps up, the tool in his hand drops, clanging against the cement. I watch his defined chest rise and fall, his breathing quickening with mine. Caught up in the sheer sight of him I don't realized he's coming at me, fast.

"Alaya, you're back." Strong sweaty arms encircle my waist, lifting me off my feet. He buries his face in my still damp hair. "I've missed you so much. I thought you might have forgotten about me. Did you get my letter?"

"I got it," I whisper into his ear, my face moist from his sweat mixing with mine.

"Did you miss me?" Randall places me on my feet, pulling away to scan my face, his eyes so soft and full of love, like warm blue-green puddles of the sea. I could fall into them and live out the rest of my days.

"Of course I missed you," I laugh, shoving his shoulder playfully. "I missed all of this." I gesture to our surroundings. "Well, it's changed a lot, but I still missed what this place was."

He laughs with me. I missed his laugh. Pulling up a stool, he urges me to sit as he continues working, though he doesn't really take his eyes off of me long enough to get much done. He explains what the freak storm did to the town, to his businesses. All the owners of stores that were totally destroyed decided not to rebuild, selling their lots to one mystery buyer who bought up them all. Every new business I passed is owned by the same person, but no one has met or physically seen the arcane owner.

Randall says that many of the town's people moved after the storm, uprooted their families and left. They claimed there was a bad aura over the town, many feeling uneasy and ill. Randall himself said he never felt anything and had no problem staying. Out of the five-thousand plus people who resided here only a few hundred remain. The rest are new to the seaside town.

He doesn't go on for very long before deterring the conversation back to me and what I did back home. Randall hardly touches the wave runner, hanging on to my every word. I tell him about Rey leaving and Mom's breakdown, keeping all the underwater business hush hush.

"I'm so happy you're here, I don't think you understand how elated I am. Are you coming back to work soon? I hired a sales associate, but kept your position open. You met Lex, right? Good kid that one," he rambles.

"Speaking of, what exactly was my position title? You trained me to do more than sell on the floor." I twist my lips in a sly smile, probably the most genuine smile I've had in months.

His expression changes, brow furrowed in thought. "Alaya, you're right. I trained you to manage the shop for me. I know we've had our issues but you work hard and you're great with the customers. I'm not the type of person to let my love for you cloud my sense of business. You do many things to me, Alaya, but distracting my business judgment isn't one of them."

Without looking I know my entire face is bright red. My cheeks burn, skin overheating. Eyes drawn to the wave runner, I refuse to make eye contact with him after a statement like that. Embarrassed, flattered, and ashamed all at once, the day is off to a great start.

"Yea, that's what you say," I mumble in a hushed whoosh of air.

He notices my unease. "Can you start tomorrow?"

I sigh heavily. "Usual time?"

"Whenever you decide to show? Yup, but let's try to make it at the same time every day. I don't want my other employee to think you're getting preferential treatment," he smiles, joy obvious on his face.

"I'll be here, boss." I turn on my heels to leave, ignoring the opening to joke back.

"I'm serious, I really missed you Alaya. I'm relieved you came back."

Those words almost force me to turn around. He said "relieved", like he didn't actually believe I'd return. My stomach knots slightly, a brief twist of guts. I've got to stop letting him get under my skin. We as a couple will never work.

Right, I keep telling myself that.

I say goodbye to Lex on my way out. The man/boy was leaning against the front counter, playing cool for a gaggle of pretty girls checking out the sunglasses. Poor guy didn't have a clue. They looked at him as if to say, "No way in hell, buddy". I commend him for his confidence, he has a bold attitude.

Why does the ride home from a destination always feel faster than the ride to? When I was younger than Vallah I asked my dad that question. He said it's the anticipation making the ride to seem as though it takes forever. Then, on your journey home, both your mind and body are relaxed, so the expectation and stress are gone and you think you've made it home more quickly when in fact it's virtually the same amount of time.

Dad made sense back then, but my ride home today is definitely not going any faster than the ride to the shop because I spot Veronica stepping out of the salon owned by redheaded twins. For some reason I feel like interrogating her about Orson and this minute seems like the right time.

Proud of my parallel parking job two stores down from the salon, I turn off my moped and hop onto the curb. Just because my vehicle is small that doesn't make it any easier to maneuver, at least not for me.

"Veronica!" I call out sweetly. A young mom and her well-behaved walking toddler on a leash watch me approach her.

"Hey, how have you been?" I ask in the overly nice tone people use when they're being insincere.

Veronica eyes me wearily, like a mouse watching a hungry cat. Then, as though she suddenly recognizes me she says, "Alaya, long time no see." She spreads her arms wide to embrace me. "I'm doing fantastic. How are you?"

I hug her back, unsentimentally. "Wonderful, just got back in town."

"I see." She pulls away. "Well, it's just nice to know you're in good health."

What a weird thing to say. "Yea, so how is Orson? Are you still dating him?"

Her brow furrows for a second, head moving back in surprise. "Actually, we are. Thanks for asking. He's working right now, got a promotion last week."

Ah.

"How long have you two known one another?"

Might as well keep digging.

"A few years now, why?"

"Curious is all. You guys seem so perfect together," I lie.

"Oh, yes, we hear that all the time. Anyway, I have to be going now, I'll see you around." Veronica steps back, gives a half-wave of her hand and returns down the street in the direction she was headed without waiting for me to respond. Her freshly cut and styled locks bounce perkily as she prances away.

I want to like Veronica, truly I do. But something about that girl makes me cringe. Maybe it's her dismissive attitude or the way she tends to hold herself above others. There I go, passing judgment on someone I hardly know. I'm not any better.

I didn't exactly get the answers I sought. Maybe I need to get in better with her. Maybe we can even be friends one day. I can look beyond the fact she used to sleep with the human I love, right? Yea, right.
Chapter Fourteen

The sun shining on my face, a cool sea breeze whooshes in through my open window. A hint of burnt ash floats in with the wind, reminding me of the air on the eve of our transition to land. I wrote it off as a human thing. Although, in all my years of life, this was the first time I have smelled such an ominous scent for so long. It is slowly dissipating, day by day, so I it must not be anything to worry over.

Waking to a morning on land is the most refreshing feeling. I prop up in my bed, sheets half covering my legs. My first day back to work and I'm ready to play sick, enjoy the day. But if I ever wish to have a land home of my own I have to get to work and make some money, even if it means working with Randall and avoiding his longing glances and ignoring my heart.

The thought of him instantly changes my mood this morning.

The shower fails to give me that satisfaction of a clean start, instead I feel dirtier somehow. Go figure. Randall always knows the right words to turn my world upside down. All night I dreamt about him and the life we could have together, if only we were the same species year round. In my dreams it never matters, he is himself and I the same. Our love means more than almost a year apart. Oh, how I wish dreams could come true.

Once again letting my hair dry naturally, I dress in my closet. Dark blue jean shorts with a red t-shirt and all black Nikes, super casual. As I tie my sneakers I think about all the dreams I'm able to remember from the night before and my head begins to throb. It's increasingly impossible to push Randall from my mind, even during the most minuscule moments of my day.

Checking my phone, I judge about an hour until I need to leave, plenty of time for breakfast. A plate of sliced potatoes, bacon, eggs over easy and buttered Texas toast lies neatly on the kitchen table waiting for me. Unfortunately Vallah is also at the table waiting with a look of greedy anticipation on her face. I successfully dodged her after my run in with Veronica. I hit the sack early to prepare myself for my return to work at the shop. She has no idea what I saw on my trip out into town.

"So, it had to go pretty well yesterday if you had to go to sleep so early. Did you kiss and whisper sweet nothings in each other's ears or something?" Vallah teases obnoxiously.

"Who's this we're kissing now?" Mom asks, taking her attention away from the sink to listen in.

"No one, Ma, Val is just being a goof. Right, Val?" I give her the stink-eye, just a little encouragement to keep her fat trap shut.

"Yea, you know me," she shrugs, stuffing a heap of potatoes in her mouth.

Mom shakes her head in amusement, returning to washing the dishes. She's used to dealing with our banter. Aside from that, Mom is acting rather happy this morning. It might almost be the end of her depression.

The potatoes melt in my mouth, seasoned to perfection. As always I savor every land meal as if it is my last. Under the sea meals are great, but you can't get the same variety of flavors let alone ingredients, not that merpeople haven't tried.

"Are you gonna spill the beans or what?" Vallah whispers, spurting tiny pieces of toast from her mouth.

I simply shake my head. This is not a topic I'd like to discuss in front of my mom, and I'm not quite ready to discuss it with Val yet either. When she mouths the word "later", I give a slight smirk at her persistence. I know she won't give me much more time to hold back.

Vallah and I help clear the table and clean the dishes. She nudges and elbows me in the ribs playfully trying to get me to tell her something before I take off for work. Her attempts fail and she pouts all the way up to her room.

My moped has never looked so welcoming. Helmet on, I rev the motor, pulling out of the drive. An older couple across the road is out tending to their small patch of flowers. I wave to them only to receive a dirty look from each in return. Guess they're having a bad day. I don't let their bad mood harsh on mine though, growing more nervous the further into town I drive.

No business owners I recognize are out as I pass the various shops. I wonder how many original residents are lingering about. Many of the people I drive by appear to have some sort of chip on their shoulder. One by one, face after face. I count thirteen people with a look of disgust smeared where one would usually see a smile. There's no reason for it. The sun is shining, sky clear and blue. Streets free of debris and birds singing. How is it possible for so many people to be having a shitty day?

My moped can't make it to the corner fast enough. I roll into the shop parking lot, pulling into a space between Randall's truck and an old Crown Victoria someone picked up at a police auction. It has a defunct spot light on the left in front of the windshield and holes noticeably filled from the various lights and fixtures that were once attached to it. Lines from the decals it bared during use are also still visible. Who would drive it without attempting to fix it up a bit first? And who is at the shop before me? I retrieve my phone for the time. It's not even nine-thirty yet. I'm early, but someone else is earlier.

I yank my helmet off, mentally cursing myself for allowing my hair to air dry. The ends are wavy and nearly dry. But from the roots up about five inches, where my helmet covered, is flat and pretty damp still. I dig into my purse in frustration, close to dumping the contents onto the cement. Deep in the seemingly endless bottom I locate a hair tie. Hair in a messy bun, I use the tie to keep the pile in place. Not as I hoped for, but it'll do.

I'm not quite done adjusting to all the changes at the shop. The outside is a far cry from the sweet, family owned place I'd started at last year. Instead it screams the corporate intimidation of a large chain store. I shiver at the thought of the shop not belonging to Randall's family.

The automatic sliding doors make me jump once again in surprise. Some things you just can't get used to. Inside Lex rests his forearms against the counter, back to the center of the shop. He's the proud owner of the retired police car.

"Morning, Alaya. Good to see you again." Lex shifts his weight onto one arm to turn to face me. In his slightly too tight tan cargo shorts and baby blue polo shirt he reminds me of a prep school kid going to play tennis with his overly privileged friends. I know that's not a fair assessment of Lex, but it's the image he portrays.

"Hey, Lex. I didn't know you were working today. You beat me here," I laugh.

He blushes, his face reddening more when Randall steps out of the office.

"Don't bust his balls on your first day back, Alaya. Lex is always early, and he works every weekday morning. I told him you'd be here at some point today."

I study Lex's face as Randall speaks. Something in him changes. He stares at our boss walking around the counter to me, eyes locked intensely on his face and then the back of his head. Something is off about Lex, and I can't put my finger on exactly what it is.

"I'm glad you made it in." Randall extends his arms forward as if to hug me, thinking twice and taking a step back. "Why don't you step into the office so I can get you acquainted with the new computer systems we're operating on?"

"Um, ok." I keep a close eye on Lex's reaction as I follow Randall into the office. His expression unwavering, whatever he's thinking isn't revealed on his face.

"Lex, you have your assignment for today, right?" Randall asks, just short of the office entry.

"Got it, boss," he answers, collecting the papers laid out on the counter.

The makeover in the office matches the modernized shop. The filing cabinets are completely gone. Two new glass top, dark iron desks are pushed to face each other in the middle of the cramped space. Comfy looking high backed, black leather chairs on rollers pushed behind each. A sleek gray laptop is closed atop one of the desks. On the walls hang pictures of Randall and his parents, along with framed business degrees and licenses. A potted palm plant my height is shoved in the far left corner.

"Big difference, huh?" Randall plops into the chair closest to the door, behind the desk with the laptop. "The place got a well deserved makeover. And this new system saves me time and space."

"Yea," is all I manage to say. The overwhelming feeling of being replaced comes to mind.

He's intentionally trying not to look directly at me while speaking, opening the laptop with one smooth movement. Hands typing furiously on the keys he instructs me to watch him closely. Of course I'm not going to protest. The new system is incredibly fast and efficient. I might puke. The old way seemed so much more personal.

"What do you think?" He finishes clicking on all the icons, scrolling every page.

I look from him to the screen and then back again.

"I don't really like it."

The corners of Randall's mouth drop in disappointment. He closes the laptop, rising to face me. Thankfully he hasn't changed so much, at least not visibly, maybe a little more gorgeous. In a pale green t-shirt that would be tight on me and a pair of khaki board shorts he is far more than just a pretty face, the man behind the looks is brilliant and kind, unlike the stories of humans from my childhood.

"I didn't mean to offend you or anything."

He hasn't said anything and I'm beginning to think I had.

Head tilted slightly he appraises me like this is the first time he's seeing me. Confused, I just shift my weight from one leg to the other in place waiting for him to speak.

"I'm sorry. I'm being an idiot." With both hands he rubs his face tiredly. "I was expecting you to have missed me more, to feel the same way I do."

I almost tell him I did and I do. Almost.

"Come on, let me show you where everything else is." His demeanor flips like a light switch. Too quickly he becomes the boss, all business. He proceeds to lead me all around the shop, taking me out back to see the new layout. All the while his voice is monotone.

Lex peers at us from the corner of his eye. He shifts uncomfortably behind the counter. If I didn't know any better I would think he's gay. Gay I don't have a problem with, but it's something else, almost like he's protecting Randall. From me?

The rest of the day is as awkward as it gets. I'm counting the minutes until I can go home and hide away in my room. When the time to clock out comes I can't get out of here fast enough.

The salty breeze on my face is cleansing. Riding past the now unfamiliar shops on my moped I recall the first time I was allowed to drive out here on my own. I was both terrified and liberated. Every turn I thought someone was going to say something to me about my age or yell obscenities at me. Aside from obeying traffic laws the only person I had to answer to was me. Life was so simple those few years ago.

I notice some of the townsfolk walking about oddly as if they're attached to mechanical remotes, robotic. Maybe not like robots, but they do seemed cold and unnoticing. I dismiss it as me being overly tired.

At home Vallah is waiting for me as I knew she would be, eager with questions. I'm really not in the mood to tell her everything, giving her the basics, no angst. She's somewhat satisfied with what she hears.

At dinner Mom grills me worse than Val. Thankfully Dad saves me by bringing up his day with Rey. Well, it's good and bad.

"Your son told me he plans to permanently move to the Great Barrier Reef. He also happens to be in the process of relocating his land job to Australia." Dad avoids looking at her, his gaze on his untouched plate of spaghetti.

Mom gasps so lightly that if I hadn't been expecting it I would've never known it happened. Val rolls her eyes and shovels another forkful into her mouth. And honestly, how am I supposed to feel about my big brother totally abandoning his family? Abandoning, yes, I think he's abandoning us. But how do I feel about it?

"How does he look? Has he been eating? Is he wearing clean clothes? Does he plan on saying good-bye to us?" Every mom question one could imagine then spews from Mom's mouth in a jumble of words.

"He's fine, my love. This is his way of moving on."

That single sentence silences my mom. Her mouth snaps shut and she inspects her plate, pushing around the strands with her fork. I almost reach over to put my hand on her shoulder comfortingly, but decide against it. Staying off her radar is the smartest thing to do for a while.
Chapter Fifteen

It seems as though the days are passing by at an accelerated rate. I feel like I'm being thrown through time. The first month already came and went with enough awkward uncomfortableness for twenty people. Between work with Randall and drama with my family, I'm buried to my neck in stress.

In the evenings, during dinner, Dad refuses to mention Rey any longer. Mom doesn't ask about him either, she isn't quite acting like her normal self. I assumed they were finally getting over the fact that he wanted no part in our family.

Of course, I know better, I've been lying to myself to make things easier. Nothing will ever be the normal again.

Vallah has also distanced herself, at least from me she has. She stopped asking for juicy details about my non-relationship with Randall. She even started staying in her room more, only coming out for meals. I should have paid more attention to her when we first returned to land. I was just too stuck in my own internal battle of emotions. I'm a terrible sister, a terrible daughter.

Work is the only thing keeping me from totally losing my mind.

Lex has turned out to be pretty cool once I got to know him. He's actually become my fun buddy at the shop. The guy is completely girl crazed. Every female customer that walks through the door gets the special "Lex Treatment". His moves aren't particularly smooth, but they're innocent. Though there was a group of girls who wanted to smack him after one of his classic spiels.

Randall treats Lex well, more like an employee than he treats me, but still well. They built a strong work relationship while I was away. It took a couple weeks for me to fall back into the groove of things. I clumsily survived my return to work, but with the new systems and layout, it wasn't easy.

The tension between Randall and I is thick enough to choke on. A day doesn't go by that we don't share an accidental brushing against one another, whether it's of my knee to his, or hand to hand, or arm to arm, it happens. I want to scream when he doesn't acknowledge his feelings when this happens. I know he feels the same heart charging jolt of electricity. It's my fault he doesn't voice how much he cares. I told him it can never be. But that doesn't stop me from wishing we could be together.

Once in awhile I make sure my hand brushes his on purpose, simply for the chill it sends down my spine and the goose bumps it raises on my arms. I'm digging my own hole, I know.

I always end up going home disappointed and annoyed when the work day is through, mostly with myself. I keep trying to make Randall pay attention to me, yet I know in my heart it's wrong. I'm doing all this to myself. There are other jobs out there I could get. I don't have to see him every day. The problem is that I want to. I want to see him, to touch him, for him to notice me and speak to me.

Eventually I'll give up and move on. For now I'll continue torturing myself. It would probably be better if I had someone to talk to about my issues. Even then I'd scare people away if they knew everything going on in my life.

"Are you ok?"

On my hands and knees in the middle of scrubbing the new floor, I lift my head enough to see whose strange voice is speaking to me and I nearly keel over of a heart attack. The dark haired merman who was watching me and Vallah undersea is now standing over me looking, well, hot.

"I—I'm fine," I stutter.

"Can I help you?" Lex comes from behind the counter saving me just in time.

The stranger looks from Lex to me, me to Lex. "No, thank you."

Lex's brow furrows for a moment. He opens his mouth but quickly shuts it. They stare at one another for what feels like forever. I swear there's recognition in their glares.

"Very well, I'm sure you'll be on your way then." Lex comes to stand by me, almost protectively.

The stranger nods, once to Lex and again to me. Then he turns rather quickly on his heels, heading for the front entrance. I lose sight of him past the new racks. Once the doors hiss open and shut I release the breath I didn't realize I was holding.

"I need to go home," I say to Lex. "Can you tell Randall I had to leave for family matters, please?"

"Yea, what's going on, Al? Do you know that guy?"

"Yes—no, no I don't. I just have to get home, right now." My body goes into full on panic mode. I'm running for the office to get my purse before I know it.

Lex stops me at the front doors. "Al, you can tell me what's bothering you. It's ok."

"No, it's really not. I'll see you tomorrow. Tell Randall I'm sorry." I push past him to my moped.

I pray Vallah's ok the entire drive home. If the stranger found me it will take no time at all for him to find her. All that runs through my head is that I'm going to talk to Vallah more. She can be my confidant. I need to keep her close.

It's half past two when I pull up the drive. Mom's home, hopefully Val too. I yank the keys from the ignition and let my moped fall to the gravel. I'm in too great a hurry to care.

"Val,Vallah,Val, are you home?" I shout up the staircase.

Mom pokes her head around the corner from the kitchen. "Honey, she left an hour ago. Check the beach."

I feel a sharp stabbing pain in my chest. Through the house and out the back door I run. I can't see her from the porch. Down the steps, through the sand, along the shore, still no sight of her. I shout her name until my throat hurts. People stare at me as if I've lost my mind. Maybe I have.

In my pocket my cell phone goes off. I have a missed call from Randall. The clock says I've been searching for Vallah for two hours. Defeated, I walk warily home. Tears begin to wet my sun warmed cheeks.

"Talk to me," a familiar voice demands. I turn to see Rey stomping through the sand toward me.

I can't speak. It all comes out in gasped squeals. My throat is dry. Sand is stuck to my face, my clothes. I'm a mess.

"C'mon, I'll take you home." My brother puts his arm around me, half carrying me back to our parent's house.

Mom is shocked when she sees Rey helping me up the steps. She doesn't say anything, but it's written all over her face, surprise, relief.

The door is barely open and I knock Rey's arm off my shoulders. Up the stairs, I run straight to Vallah's room. Rey is right behind me, Mom on his heels.

On Vallah's neatly made bed is a sheet of plain white paper folded in half. Rey asks me what my problem is, Mom tells me to calm down. It's all muffled, like I'm hearing them through earplugs. I ignore them anyway.

I drop to my knees at the foot of the bed and reach for the paper. My hand is trembling. More tears cloud my vision. Rey is by my side, waiting.

I have run away. Rey is getting along fine without this family, so can I. You won't miss me. You're too busy with all your own problems. I know where the land witch is. That's where I'll be.

Love, Vallah

I know Mom has read the note over my shoulder because she's whimpering. Rey snatches the note from me. He crumbles it into a ball, tossing it into the yellow flowered pink trash bin next to Vallah's desk.

"Time to go, Al," Rey says.

I don't understand what he means but I follow him anyway. Mom has turned into a sobbing mess on Vallah's bedroom floor. We step around her, neither stopping to offer a consoling word. Instead we walk right out the front door.
Chapter Sixteen

Rey purchased a nice new black Jeep Wrangler since he'd been gone. Sitting in the front passenger's seat I admire the clean interior, slick black seats. I don't know where he's taking us. The ride isn't very long. He hasn't said much to me in the fifteen minutes we've been on the road. Another thirty and he still isn't ready to talk.

He pulls past a tall, rusting metal gate into a cemetery. Veering along the roadside he puts the car in park, turning to face me.

"It's time you know the truth. Mom and Dad don't want me to tell you. I've been keeping this secret for far too long." He takes a deep breath and without so much as a moment's hesitation he rambles on. "Do you remember Mom being pregnant with Val? I mean, in your memory, can you picture Mom pregnant at all?"

I try to reach my memories from fourteen years ago. I try to find Mom with a big round belly. It's impossible. That memory just isn't there. I close my eyes and try again, concentrating with all I've got...still nothing. Then again, I was only three at the time.

"You can't, can you?"

I shake my head, not trusting my voice.

"Mom was never pregnant again after you were born." He pauses to let this new information sink in.

If Mom didn't have Vallah then she's not really my sister, we're not really related. The stabbing pain has returned in my chest. No, even if we're not blood related she will always be my little sister. I will always love her.

"Who is Vallah's real mother?" I ask painfully. Who's her father for that matter? But I don't ask that.

"She was a human. Her name was Nadya."

I'm on the verge of having a mental breakdown.

"Nadya became pregnant with Vallah when she was just sixteen. She had a hard enough time coming to copes with being a teen mom, but then she learned the truth about her daughter. Nadya found out rather abruptly that her child was going to have to live in the sea for most of the year, for every year of her life. She couldn't handle the reality. Rather than try to work things out she moved away. No one heard from her again."

"She doesn't want anything to do with her own child? I understand what a shock it must have been to find out about our kind, but to abandon her own daughter?" I'm in disbelief of such ignorance.

"Well, we actually found out recently that Nadya took her own life shortly after she left. We'll never know what she was thinking." Rey looks down to his hands. He's clearly disturbed by this.

"So, Vallah's father is?" Please don't say Dad.

Rey mumbles under his breath, shame drawn all over his face. My stomach clenches. I'm sure he's going to say Dad.

"Please, Rey. Say it."

"I am Vallah's father," he whispers.

What?

I'm speechless.

What the hell am I supposed to say to that? Nice? Good? No, I have no idea what I'm supposed to say. I don't even know how I feel about Rey being Vallah's father. My brain hurts. This changes everything I've known for the past fourteen years, almost my entire life. It explains why Vallah doesn't look like us. She must look like her mother.

My brother squirms uncomfortably in the driver's seat. From the side I still notice the pain in his dark eyes, the longing. He's only thirty, yet wrinkles are already forming at the corners of his eyes. For a merman he should still be wrinkle-free. Rey has lived a full life in a short time. Loved, lost love, had sex, had a child, gave up said child. Maybe he didn't actually give her up, but he didn't raise her, at least not as his own.

"You do understand that it had to be this way, right?" He won't face me.

"No, I don't understand. I don't understand anything you're saying."

When he turns to show me his face I gasp. Tears fall from his eyes, not lightly, they pour. I don't want him to cry. My eyes begin to well.

"Explain it to me, Rey. Explain how she's your daughter, how you could keep this from me."

He sniffles. "You would have done the same thing. I didn't intend to get Nadya pregnant. I never loved her. It just happened. When Nadya gave up Vallah I couldn't handle it by myself. Mom and Dad said they would take care of her for me. They said it was our secret, she would be theirs. All I had to do was act like a normal teenager, like nothing happened. Do you know how hard that was for me?"

My face has to reveal how baffled I am. I find my mouth agape and pull it closed. It was Mom and Dad's idea. How could they? I'm starting to think my whole family is crazy and I'm the only person with common sense. I want to get out of the car. I want to be alone. But then I remember where we are, where he's brought me.

"Why are we at a cemetery, Rey?"

"This is where the only girl I'll ever love is buried. Mae's been laid to rest here, and I haven't gotten up the courage to come visit her plot. Not once since she died." His eyes roam over the countless carved chunks of stone that people use to mark where they bury their dead.

I remember the compact I found in Rey's room under the sea. Mae is the name engraved on it. I have it tucked away in the top drawer of my dresser. She's the girl who drowned chasing after Rey. I can't believe this is where he's brought us.

"This it too much, now it's about Mae? When did you meet her, after you were done having sex with Nadya? Really, Rey I don't get you at all. Did you meet her while Mom and Dad were raising your child?" I'm trying not to yell at him, honest.

"Yes, Alaya, I met her during one of the most trying times in my life. She helped me get through it. And do you know what? Mae knew Vallah was mine. She knew everything, except the fact that we aren't human."

Whelp, I wasn't expecting to hear that either.

I put my hand on the handle to open the door. Rey just watches me with puffy eyes. My silver strapped sandals make a loud clack sound against the concrete when I step out. The smell of fresh cut grass and a mixture of flowers hang in the air. I make my way to one of the paved paths that weaves through the burial plots.

"Where are you going?" Rey shouts to me through the closed door of the jeep.

"You brought me here because you don't have the balls to visit Mae's grave. All this time we've spent here talking about you and your problems we could have been out searching for Val. You remember Val, right? I mean, she's only your daughter." I stomp off in any direction away from him.

He doesn't come after me. I continue walking along the path, observing all the lovely stones. I don't have the slightest inclination where to start. This path will take me somewhere, though I realize I'm going to have to step off the path and on to the grass to view all the stones.

Twenty minutes of walking has gotten me nowhere. I don't know Mae's last name, I don't know if she has a family plot, I don't know if she's really buried here. Rey should be out here searching for this love he calls his only. I should be looking for my sister...niece?

"I can help you find whatever it is you're looking for."

I remember the husky voice from the shop. The dark stranger has somehow found me in the middle of a human cemetery.

"Who exactly are you, and what do you want with my family?" I'm not going to give him the satisfaction of turning around. He knows I remember him.

I can feel something radiate off of him as he steps up his pace to walk beside me. I've never felt something like this before and I can't describe what it could be. We walk silently for a few more minutes like this. The energy coming off him never dissipates. It's a constant, steady flow. Water passing through a stream.

"My intentions are not to harm you or your family. You might consider me your guardian angel. I'm here to help."

I have to look at him after a statement like that. Guardian angel? Right.

"You seem skeptical. Let me assure you, I'm telling the truth. The witch of the sea, Delia, has contacted me in reference to the recent missing merpeople. I am investigating the issue for her."

"So, you are an acquaintance of the witch?" I almost want to believe him.

"The sea witch. I have no affiliation with the one responsible for this atrocity against our kind. Turning merpeople into humans to do her own sick bidding is despicable." He shakes his head.

She's real. The witch on land is real. And she is turning merpeople. I can't hold back my excitement. But then the rest of what he's saying sinks in. She's using my kind with a different agenda in mind. She's not a gentle soul. And Vallah might be with her.

"My sister, she has my sister," I blurt out. I don't care if she isn't really my sister. I still think of her that way. I always will.

The stranger laughs. It changes his face. He appears more sweet and handsome. His lips curl into a smile in the most genuine gesture. Then I realize I don't know his name, or anything else about him.

"Vallah is safe. I was able to get to her before she made it that far."

"Where? Where is she?" I want to hug him I'm so grateful.

His attention seems to perk. He looks over his shoulder. "I will tell you soon, later. Keep your eyes open for now, you're in danger. Don't tell anyone that you've made contact with me, I mean anyone."

"Wait, what? What's the danger? You didn't even tell me your name." I try to get something more out of him, but he's already jogging away from me. Not even attempting to shout back an answer or two.

"Were you talking to that guy?" Rey asks from behind me. He must have been why the stranger took off.

"No," I answer. The stranger told me not to tell anyone, so I won't.

"Oh," he exhales. "I found a groundskeeper. He told me where her grave should be. C'mon, let's go find it."

He doesn't care his daughter has run away. It's not like he knows what the stranger told me. Rey still wants to visit this grave. This is all he cares about. All that matters to him right this moment.

I follow him down the path. The paved lane winds and splits to lead off toward other sections of the cemetery. Plots adorned with bouquets and various sentimental items lay in lines up and down the land. We have to step into the grass to get to Mae's grave. I'm a little freaked out. I don't want to disrespect the dead by walking over their buried bodies.

"Here she is," Rey barely breathes out. He's so still he could be a statue.

I step next to him to share the moment, to be here for him. He may be a selfish inconsiderate ass but he's still my brother. At least I think he is. Who knows what other secrets my family is keeping from me.

Her plot is decorated with a white marble vase of fresh pink roses. Someone has been here very recently. The stone marker at the head of her grave is smooth black and gray swirling marble. Little hearts and cherubs are engraved above the lettering. It takes me time to get to her name, to accept that she was real.

"You have nothing to say?" Rey sounds angry.

"Why would I?"

"Her name, Al, look at her name!" He is suddenly furious and I can't figure out why.

I read her name once but I take a second look, a long look.

Mae Elizabeth Andrews.

Another name on a stone I'm not familiar with, not completely. The name Andrews is familiar but I don't know where I've heard it before. Someone I know—knew? Then it hits me like a sack of lava stones.

Andrews is Randall's last name.

"Who was she, Rey?" I ask, but really I'm hoping he avoids a direct answer.

"Your boss's sister."

My clenched jaw releases uncontrollably. I can feel the hot air drying my mouth. The only girl Rey loved was Randall's sister? Impossible. Unfair. Shame on me. This is why he's tried to keep me from falling for Randall. Every day I spoke about Randall in front of him must have been a crippling reminder of Mae. Not only did his human love follow him out to sea and drown, but I happen to be falling hopelessly in love with her brother. He doesn't want the same fate for me.

"I'm so sorry, Rey. I didn't know. I wish you would have said something sooner."

His head drops into his hands. Muffled sobs come from behind those hands. I put my arms around his, resting my forehead against his fingers.

"I can't lose Vallah too," he chokes out between sobs.

"We're not losing anyone else, I promise. She's safe."

"How do you know?" he sniffles.

"I just do."
Chapter Seventeen

I drive us home from the cemetery. Rey is in no condition to operate a vehicle. The grief he has been keeping locked up tight for so long is flooding out in gasps and sobs. Nothing I say or do right now is going to make him feel any better. What he needs is Mom.

We push through the front door in a rush of hand gestures and an incoherent rush of words. Mom is overwhelmed to see him. She catches him in her arms and they slump to the floor together. I leave them to deal with their issues and run upstairs to my room. I can still hear them both crying with my door shut.

I flop onto my bed and start digging through the junk in my purse to get my phone. The vibrating reminder hasn't stopped since I left work. I swipe the screen open and see I have eleven texts, two from Lex and nine from Randall.

I need more friends on land.

Lex basically wants to make sure everything is ok and to let me know Randall is going nuts trying to get a hold of me. Every message from Randall is the same, asking what's happening and asking if I'm ok. I ignore them all. I don't have time to come up with excuses.

Laying on my stomach, flipping through the photos of me and Val on my phone, her smile keeps me going. She will probably be taller than me soon. Her fair skin blemish free and baby smooth. Vallah's grown so much. So pretty, intuitive, and full of sass. So nothing like the rest of us.

I can't help but think about the stranger. He claimed he works for the sea witch. Can I really believe him? He seems harmless enough, aside from stalking me. I remember him under the sea. His face is darkly handsome. In the way a T.V. villain's might be, with a sexy crooked smirk and a sparkle of danger in his eye. Such a contrast to Randall who has that handsome surfer/nice guy appeal.

I shake the thoughts from my head and push myself off the bed. I have to do something other than lay around and think about how attractive the guys I meet are. Of all the twisted facets of my life that is the last thing I should be daydreaming about. Most important right now is Val. The stranger can assure me all day long that Vallah is safe but when it comes down to his word and the truth I can't assume anything.

Val's room is frighteningly empty without her. Most of her belongings are still here, not that I'd know what she took with her. Her prized possession, her laptop, is closed on her desk right beside her cellphone. Why didn't she take it? I sit in the white painted wood chair in front of the desk. My hands hover over the laptop. Maybe she left a clue to where she was trying to go.

My phone is ringing. I left it on my bed. I smack my forehead with my open hand, mentally scolding myself for not bringing it with me. I leave the laptop on the desk and go to my room to see who would be calling me other than Randall. The number on the screen isn't one of my contacts.

Hoping it's Val, I answer anxiously. "Hello?"

"Hello Alaya, I hope you don't mind me calling you like this." The stranger's voice is a welcome surprise.

"Nope, and I'm not going to bother asking you how you got my number, I don't want to know. Just tell me where Vallah is. You know it's all I care to hear."

"For her safety and your own I cannot give you her whereabouts. Leave it be, you will be reunited with her soon enough. This call is to discuss you and the people you work with." He clears his throat. "How well do you know those men?" His voice goes from calm and sweet to stern and demanding.

"Who? Randall and Lex? I started working for Randall last year. He's the owner of the rental shop. And Lex, well, I met him like a month ago. He's been working at the shop since I left at the last change. Why?" I know for a fact that Randall is no threat to me. And Lex, he's no one I'd be concerned about.

"So you're saying Lex is new?"

"I guess. But Lex isn't the witch if that's what you're getting at." I'd know if I was working with a witch. Right?

The stranger laughs, sending the wrong kind of chills down my spine. "You're so young and naïve. Of course he isn't the witch. He works for her. Strange things have happened in this town since you were here last. All of which seem to lead me to the shop and that boss of yours. Someone close to him is the witch, I'm sure of it."

"That's absurd. And I'm not naïve. There is no way anyone Randall knows can be a witch. You're crazy, whatever-your-name-is."

"You are, and it is possible. Can you think of anyone he knows that you may have met who you felt is off, different in a not so pleasant way. Think hard, Alaya, but try not to hurt yourself."

Is he making a joke? At my expense?

I rack my brain trying to remember all the people I've met since knowing Randall. Only one comes to mind when I think different...Veronica. She's always been disturbing. It would actually make sense if she turns out to be the witch. She's definitely something that rhymes with it. All this might be jealousy speaking though.

"Yea, there's this girl Randall used to...um, do things with. Her name is Veronica," I tell him. Hopefully I'm doing the right thing.

"What did he do with her?" The stranger's interest peaked.

I don't want to tell him. I don't want to say it out loud. I'm uncomfortable talking to this guy I don't know in the slightest about such an intimate subject. He'll find out eventually, he may hound me until I break so I might as well say it.

"Sex." Yup, that's it.

The stranger is quiet on the end of the line. I can't hear him make a sound let alone breathe. I almost think I've lost connection until he finally speaks.

"Why would he have sex with her? How long were they dating?"

"Does that matter? They never dated. It was a friends with benefits kind of relationship." Not saying sex kind of makes it easier to talk about.

"Have you had sex with him?" The stranger asks blatantly.

"No, I've never had sex with him. I've never had sex with anyone," I admit reluctantly.

"Good," he says. "Whatever you do, don't sleep with him. Is that clear?"

"No, I don't see why it's a big deal if I do." Not that I'm planning to, but I'm not letting him know that.

"Because I say so. You're too smart for this, Alaya. Do not sleep with him. You should also avoid running into Veronica, I think I can logically tell you she is the witch. Do as I say and you will be safe."

"No sex and I'll be safe?" I ask half jokingly. I can say it if it's a joke.

"Yes."

I can tell by the tone in his voice that he's dead serious. As baffling as it is, I'll listen to him. I wasn't planning on having sex with Randall anyway at the risk we'd cross the line of no return and I'd lose him forever.

"Fine," I concede. "I'm not naïve. I didn't know a witch could look like Veronica."

"Thank you. They can appear any way they choose which is why you must be wary of any new people you come across. Good luck. And by the way, my name is Lorren. I'll see you very soon." The phone beeps, he's hung up.

The stranger's name is Lorren, Lex works for the witch, and said witch is Veronica. That was an insightfully uncomfortable conversation, even if he didn't tell me where Vallah is. One thing's for sure, if Veronica is the witch, we're all in trouble. With Lex watching over Randall she must have plans for him. I won't allow her to use him for any of her sick magic. And what happened to her "boyfriend" Orson? What part does he play in this scheme?

"Al?" Rey is standing in my doorway. I didn't hear the door open.

"Yea?"

"I'm sorry. If I could go back in time and change every choice I made I would. I need to take responsibility for my actions." His gaze falls to the floor.

"What's done is done, Rey. I suggest we start over once Vallah gets home."

He snaps to attention, staring at me intently. "When?"

"I'm not certain." I look down at my phone, recalling Lorren's assurances.

"How do you she's coming home then?"

I picture us all at the dinner table, seated around a plethora of land food, my parents, my brother, my...my Vallah, and me. We're laughing and carrying on without a care in the world. If only it could be my reality.

"You're going to have to trust me on this, Rey."

In his eyes I see the sorrow and pain he feels flicker to eagerness and the trust. He nods acceptingly to me. I know we'll overcome this obstacle.
Chapter Eighteen

Lorren and I shared text messages back and forth throughout the night. He gives me updates on his progress in learning how to handle Veronica. Late in the evening last night he texted that the sea witch is currently on land. He thinks there will be an all out brawl between the two magical beings. I have to agree with him, this doesn't seem like it will end well.

Between Lorren's texts Randall sent a few. His attempts at getting close to me are depressing. How badly I want to be with him. I must stop torturing myself like this.

Me+Randall=Impossible.

I'm not going to work today. I sent Randall a text this morning to let him know I have family matters to attend to. Technically I didn't lie. Vallah is still somewhere unknown. The only person who knows where she is happens to be Lorren and he basically ordered me to stay away from Veronica and if Lex works for her that means I have to stay away from him too. Thus I cannot go to work. Great.

Naturally Randall is overly concerned and hasn't stopped texting me to make sure I'm ok. All my replies have been simple and single worded. I can't control my feelings toward him, but I can control the amount of contact we share.

I pour myself a glass of orange juice and take a seat at the table in the kitchen. All I can do is wait, and avoid the rest of my family moping about the house.

Mom and Dad have been contemplating all morning on whether or not to move to a new city next year when we transition. This year has been the most difficult they've ever faced. It's been the most difficult year any of us have ever faced. Well, I can't speak for Rey.

The front door slams and I cringe.

I just want to go home, back to the sea. I want my life back the way it was, before guys, before all this witch business, and most importantly, back when Vallah was still simply my sister.

Prepared to bolt out the back door, I listen for any commotion coming from the other room. Silence. Whoever slammed the door was either leaving or having a quiet breakdown. I'm not interested in finding out. I soundlessly push my chair back and stand to tiptoe out, but his voice comes out so buttery smooth I can't move another inch.

"Hello, Alaya. I hope you're ready to go."

My breath catches in my throat. Lorren is standing in the doorway of the kitchen, and I suddenly don't remember what I was doing. I wasn't expecting him to come to my house, into my house.

"Alaya? Are you alright?" He takes a step closer, hand extended to touch me. The black fitted shirt he's wearing shows me all I need to know about his body. Dude is cut, enough said. Not something I noticed when he was stalking us under water. I shouldn't even be thinking about what he looks like undressed. Shame, shame on me.

"No—I mean yes, I'm fine." I step to the side to further the distance between us.

The energy I felt roll off of him when we were at the cemetery is a hundred times stronger. I can feel it trying to pull me closer to him, and he knows it.

"I promise you, I'm not in control of this." He holds his hands out, palms facing the ceiling. "Delia has placed a protection spell on me so that I may be of greater use to her. The spell has come with certain side effects."

"What side effects?"

"I'd rather not say." He won't make eye contact with me. I swear he almost looks ashamed.

Rather than press the matter, I pretend not to care.

"Why are you here, Lorren?"

His face goes from pale to burning red in half a second. When he raises his head to look at me his eyes have gone cold. He has become the dangerously sexy stranger I first thought him to be. I don't know what's gotten him so angry. My heart skips a beat.

"Your human, the one you love so much, he has been taken. No one is at his place of business, the lights are out and the door is locked." Lorren shoves his hands into the pockets of his dark jeans, leaning casually against the door frame. His face has gone back to its normal color. His eyes are a whole nother level of seductive anger.

"No one ever said that I love him..."

"But you do."

"Ok, fine. The point is Randall is safe. I got a text from him less than an hour ago and he was at the shop." I hope.

Lorren's laugh proves to be the hottest thing about him, even if it is at my expense. The anger in his eyes fades oh so slightly.

"Alaya, you silly girl, please shut your pretty little mouth and come with me." He turns and abruptly walks into the living room.

I want to chase after him, punch him for telling me to shut my mouth. The only reason I don't is because I know he meant it in the least threatening way possible. So I follow him. By the time I get to the living room he's walking out the front door. My family is nowhere in sight. I have to jog after him to catch up. From the driver's seat of his sleek black car—the make of which I'm not familiar—Lorren watches me bound down the front steps with a knowing smirk.

"Don't look so smug, I'm only coming with you to help Randall," I say as I buckle myself into the passenger side of his car.

"No need to remind me that you're wasting your time with a human," he grunts.

Inside I'm a mess. I can't seem to sort my emotions. Sitting next to someone who is essentially a stranger, who I happen to feel a strange attraction to, I'm on my way to save the human I love. Weird, I know.

"Remember when we were at sea and you followed my sister and me?" I attempt to nonchalantly watch his face as he answers, trying to get a better read on him.

He pulls the car to a stop at the stop sign leading from my street into town. I inhale the fresh clean scent of the new car. It must have come off the lot very recently. All the gadgets and lights on the interior are tempting. I have a difficult time keeping my eyes on him while waiting for an answer.

"What of it?"

"Why us? Of all the merpeople you chose to investigate us. I want to know why." I take my eyes off the lights to watch him squirm uncomfortably in his seat. His eyes are uncertain, and I can see his breathing increase.

He continues to drive, and I wait patiently. We pass the rows of shops and the little mall where I first met Randall. The streets are almost empty for a Wednesday morning, especially with such beautiful weather. It's obvious to anyone looking that something isn't right.

Lorren passes Randall's rental shop. He didn't lie, there's no one inside. As for Lorren himself, he still hasn't answered me. No, he's focused on driving to wherever he's sure we're supposed to go.

I begin to recognize the wide spans of green grass. We're leaving the coast and heading inland. I don't know how to feel right now. I'm worried about Randall, but I still haven't seen Vallah since she ran off. I'm not even sure she's safe. Not to mention the weird tension between Lorren and I.

Sea life looks better and better with each passing moment that I suffer on land.

The gas station I went to when I tried to escape the drama of meeting Veronica sits oddly illuminated up ahead. As we approach I recognize Lex's beat up decommissioned police car parked at one of the pumps.

I scream so loud I startle myself.

"What? What's wrong?" Lorren slams on the brakes. The fresh new car skids to a halt, filling the air with the scent of burning rubber. My hand shoots up to the pain in my neck.

"Uh, thanks for giving me whiplash." I roll my neck to assess any possible damage. I'm fine, a little sore, but fine.

"Did I?" Lorren tears his seat belt off in a show of pure strength, leaning over to gently touch my neck with the tips of his fingers as though he's afraid to hurt me.

I laugh in his face. I can't help it though because his nose is literally two inches from mine. Energy is rolling off of him in waves of steaming lust. I have to put my hand on his chest to keep from doing something stupid.

"No, you didn't. I was joking. My neck hurts a bit but it's not enough to be concerned about." I try to push him back, he resists.

"It doesn't hurt much now? What if it does later? I am responsible for this." His hand is on my neck again, not just fingers this time.

The rhythm of my heart is erratic. His eyes stare into me in a way no human or merperson's ever has. I'm terrified. I'm intrigued. I'm lost. I'm lonely. I always want what I should never have, can't ever have. Stupid, stupid me.

I remember why I screamed in the first place.

"The gas station."

Lorren is taken a back. He leans away from me to look through the windshield at the gas station. "I filled the tank before I picked you up. We don't need any."

My eyes meet his with what I'm hoping reads as 'you're an idiot', but at this point I can't assume anyone understands me.

"Lex's car is at that gas station. You know, Lex, as in Veronica the witch's helping hand? We should tail him unless you have a better lead."

Lorren looks from me to the beat up white car, the only car parked at the station. "I see."

When I think he's going to say more he doesn't. He ignores his tattered seat belt, putting the car into drive. Rather than pull into the station like I think he will, he takes the same route he set out on to begin with.

Questioning his decision seems useless. There's determination and something I can't read set in his face. I reach into my pocket for my cell phone. I have to see what time the last message from Randall was sent. I was wrong, it's been almost three hours.

He's alive, right? Veronica seemed like she was really into him. I doubt she'd kill him after all this time for no reason. Or maybe she has a reason? I can't deal with this.

"Stop."

Lorren is focused on the road. I begin to think I'm hearing things when he says it again.

"Stop. You need to stop doing that to yourself."

"You don't know what you're talking about," I snap. He has no idea what it's like to be in love with a human, to want something you can never have.

"I know beating yourself up over a human is pointless. All of this is beyond your control Alaya. You are so young, you'll learn. One day, when this has passed, you'll forget him."

What?! Did he just say I'm going to forget Randall? Is Lorren out of his mind? Yes, he has to be. I will never ever ever forget my first love—my only love.

"I won't," I retort.

He laughs, it's nice. I like hearing him laugh. The joyful sound has softened my anger toward him. He's not so bad after all. I know his intentions are in the right place, albeit wrong, they're definitely meant well.

"Alright, alright, you won't forget your precious human. Geez, you mermaids, always giving your heart to the wrong species." He shakes his head mock-disapprovingly.

"Not just us mermaids. Mermen fall in love with humans too."

The corners of his mouth turn down, once again shaking his head. "Oh, I'm aware."

What is he talking about? Why is he always so friggin cryptic? I want to know more, but as usual there is already so much going on in my life.

Lorren parks the car in front of a cornfield about five minutes from the gas station before I get the chance to interrogate him. Why is my life so complicated?

"There's nothing here but an empty field." I scan the vast nothingness. It's only a cornfield and nothing more, no buildings of any sort.

I swear I see him roll his eyes.

"Don't roll your eyes at me."

"You don't miss a thing, do you?" He laughs again.

I can really get used to hearing that sound. I ignore the butterfly fish in my stomach.

"Over here." Lorren grabs my hand and the unwelcome fluttering in my stomach takes a dip. Why am I suddenly feeling this way? I love Randall. I do.

We push through the newly growing corn stalks, deep into the center of the field. His grip on my hand tightens the closer we get to whatever it is he can see that I can't. I'm thankful to be partly behind him so my face is out of his line of sight. I don't want him to see me wince. My body is confusing me to no end.

"Stay close," he demands when we stop in a small six by six foot clearing. All the short stalks have been pushed down in this spot, revealing what appears to be a crudely made wood door in the ground.

"Is that what I think it is?" I ask stupidly.

"A door? Yes."

He bends to lift the worn wood, his fitted t-shirt sleeves sliding up his well maintained bicep muscles. Beneath the door is a hole wide enough to fit one person with smooth concrete walls and a metal ladder leading into the darkness below. I step closer to be greeted with the smell of stagnant water and old human socks.

"I'll go down first, you follow. Make sure you shut the door once you're in. I'll be right under you, so don't let the lack of visibility frighten you. Okay?"

"Is it a long way down?" I cannot hide the hesitance in my voice.

"Alaya, please trust me." His kind smile is surprisingly reassuring. "I will keep you safe, I promise. As long as I'm around no harm will come to you."

I am instantly comforted by his words and I know I shouldn't be considering I met him literally a day ago. He steps onto the first rung of the steel ladder and makes his descent. Once he's far enough into the blackness he motions for me to join him. One by one I place my feet onto each rung, one hand gripping the weathered door, the other holding on to the top rung for dear life. I'm terrified and I'm pretty sure it shows.

"Easy now. You slip and we're both going down."

I think that was an attempt at a joke. I'm not laughing.

Lorren's long fingers tap the back of my left calf, letting me know it's time to continue down. He's eerily quiet and I don't know why. My breathing is loud, heavy, and ragged. I press my lips together to keep from making noise. I'm not claustrophobic. It's the dark getting to me. If we were under the sea I'd be able to see, no problem. Here on land the dark is what monsters are made from—the unknown.

I've controlled my breathing, but it's still the only sound I can hear. I want to call out for Lorren. He said to trust him. He's there. I won't say a word.

It feels like the ladder is miles long. I'm sure it's only been a few minutes though. Down, down, down. Step after step. I'm grateful for the new appearance of the ladder. It keeps me sane knowing the rungs should be sturdy enough to hold us.

"Almost there, you're doing great," Lorren whispers from the abyss beneath me.

I made it. I'm close to the bottom, and I'm still alive. Oh, thank goodness. I can't wait to touch solid ground again.

The stench is stronger the further into the hole I climb. I want to say it's familiar but I'd be lying if I do. Something about it touches my memory, not enough to remember, but I know there is a connection.

Slowly, the rungs of the ladder become visible in the faint blue light emanating from the opening under us. I peek down to see Lorren cautiously place his feet onto the concrete floor. He reaches his hands up as if to catch me. I'm not going to fall this close to the ground. I smile to myself, hoping it's still dark enough down here to conceal my grin.

The hole opens up to a cavernous room. I mean, basically it's a cave. The curved walls are of naturally formed rock. Three perfectly smoothed stone bridges stretch over pools of the clearest sea water. We aren't far from the ocean. This must connect to the waters out that way. The dim light is coming from the shimmering water, reflecting the blue throughout the openings.

I walk to the edge of the pool closest to me to see what's causing the illumination. Lorren's sudden grip on my wrist tugs me away. He's dead serious now.

"Stay away from the water down here, silly girl. I want you close to me at all times. If I have to hold your hand I will."

"Lorren, it's seawater. We're from the sea. It's not a big deal." I yank my wrist free from his hold.

"Do you really think it's that simple? Please, trust me. Stick by me and when we get there I want you to let me do all the talking," he sounds exasperated as he steadies me by my waist close to the water's edge.

"Why?"

"Because the witch is very...different from you and me. She's been an introvert her entire life. The ways of humans and merpeople are foreign to her. You have no idea how long she's been away from any sort of civilization. There are ways she protects herself." His gaze shifts quickly from the welcoming water to me, giving me a stern look that every dad in the world would proud of.

"Fine, but I can't promise my curiosity won't get the better of me. And if she says anything about Randall or my family, I will have to open my mouth." I try to mimic his glare and fail.

"You're incorrigible, you know that? I don't know how that human puts up with you. Aside from that pretty face, you're a real pain in the ass." Lorren's smirk gives him away. He's full of jokes, isn't he?

"Say what you must. Just wait until I'm finished and please don't get me into trouble."

I wriggle my brows at him. When it comes to the ones I love, no one gets a pass. He'll have to get over it if he gets reprimanded for anything I say.

Lorren insists I hold his hand as we maneuver through the vast tunnels. It's almost pitch black in areas where the pools don't flow. There are so many winding paths, I know I'll get lost if I let go of him for even a second.

"Relax, we'll be fine. I told you I won't let anything happen to you." Lorren's reassuring tone and the light squeeze his gives my hand brings to my attention the fact that I had been crushing his hand in mine.

"Sorry. I'm scared."

He chuckles. "I know. I'm right here, silly girl."

"No, I mean I'm scared for Vallah and my parents, and Randall." His name is almost a whisper, as if saying it aloud is a sin.

Lorren is quiet now, leading the way to the witch of the sea. He seems more determined than ever. I wish he would speak to me, anything at all. I don't know what his deal with Randall is, but it's getting annoying how testy he is when I mention him.

"Stop," a raspy, reptilian voice demands.

My heart rate begins to increase rapidly. The pounding is echoing throughout the cave, I swear.

"Lorren here, I have Alaya with me." His voice is strong, commanding. He's not afraid.

"Proceed with caution. Mistress is with our guest in the dining hall, she is on high alert."

Without a retort, Lorren pulls me against the wall to the far left. Rather than slam into it as I braced myself for impact, we pass right through the rock to the other side.

"What the hell is that?" I reach for the intact wall, I have to touch it.

"Magic, a concealment spell. We don't have time for you to inspect every little thing down here, it would take years."

He's right about time. We don't have any. Randall has been taken and Vallah is here with a possibly temperamental loner witch. Somehow I keep getting distracted. What's wrong with me?

"C'mon, silly girl." Once again my hand is in his as he walks casually ahead of me.

This tunnel is the same as the rest. No identifying details to set it apart. I don't think I'd ever remember the way around this place on my own, too much of the same, pools and rock.

Vallah is with the witch which means she's here. Somewhere within this hole, underneath a corn field, connected to the ocean, my sister—my niece, no my sister is right—is having a good ol' time in the dining hall with a witch. Meanwhile, Randall is off being held captive by a witch of the evil kind. I honestly don't get the fuss about witches anyway. I can definitely live without them.

Corner after corner, we could be going in circles and I'd have no clue. This place is endless. I hope they don't decide to make me find the way out on my own.

"Almost there, I promise."

I can't see his face, he's slightly ahead of me and this hall of stone is unlit by pool water. He's so confident, so dark, so unlike Randall. Oh, my Randall. Where is he?

"How do you know these tunnels so well?" I'm surprised by the echo of my voice bouncing back at me off the walls.

"Navigating the layer is easier than it looks. Practice is all it takes. I think you could manage the ins and out of this place, Alaya."

"Who would want to?" I mutter.

Lorren laughs. "Yes, because anything new or different is such a nightmare."

"That's not what I meant, and you know it."

"You're such a funny girl. I take back what I said before; I can see why your human keeps you around. Entertaining little thing you are." He's not trying to hide the humor in his voice. He's making fun of me again.

Lorren's pace slows to a stop. I do the same. We're facing a wall that looks like every other wall, unlit and dark stone. I expect him to continue through like the last one. Instead he releases my hand from his, running his now free hand along the top of the wall from right to left and back. He taps the stone in what is almost the center, three times. Just like that, the rock wall glitters in the shape of a large person.

"Well, in we go. Time to meet Delia."
Chapter Nineteen

That was a simple way to open a "door" in a wall of cold rock. I can't stop thinking about the sparkles of the opening, moving so life-like, flutters of light in the air. When we passed through them it was like walking through a thick cloud of hot steam, beautiful, unbreathable air.

Dining hall is a misleading name for the grand room. A high ceiling carved into the cave walls. This room is the only I've seen that wasn't naturally formed. There are no chairs, no table to eat at. Nothing about this room says "we eat here". There does happen to be a large round pool taking up most of the space of the floor. Curious, the light coming from the water is what, magic?

"Al!"

My head snaps in the direction of her voice, Vallah's voice. Here she is, my little sister, wading in the pretty clear liquid near the strangest looking being I've ever encountered.

"Al, get over here. You have to meet Delia the Witch." Val's copper hair is splayed across the top of the water. Her face is all smiles, not a care in the world. Doesn't she know what her absence is doing to Mom and Dad? To Rey? She took off and left everyone worrying while she found her witch. Yea, I'm kinda pissed at her.

Lorren, like a total mind reader, places his hand on my lower back. I resist his touch but he ushers me closer to the pool and that thing. He didn't want me close to the water before, why force me now?

"Alaya, please don't," he whispers in my ear. His breath is so warm in my ear. It sends shivers through my being.

I shrug unapologetically. I don't want to be here. I want to get my sister and get out. He's wasting precious time we could be using to rescue Randall.

"Mistress, let me introduce you to Vallah's sister, Alaya. Alaya, this is the Witch of the Sea, the last of her kind."

The thing can smile, a too wide creepy showing of sharp teeth. Gross. What kind of name for a witch is Delia? She sure doesn't look like a Delia. Her skin is too reptilian and yellow.

"Hello Alaya, it's a pleasure to meet you." The witch narrows her golden yellow eyes at me.

She hisses like a reptile.

"Hello."

"I told you she was real. Nobody believed me, but I knew all along. See, I told you," Vallah is starting to ramble.

"Another human has gone missing, Mistress. Randall Andrews from the shop on the harbor disappeared earlier today. He knows Veronica personally, but is not an accomplice. I doubt he knows what she is, let alone what she plans to do with sea folk. The guy hasn't the faintest clue we exist." Lorren talks to the witch with such familiarity. I wonder how long they've been acquainted.

"Yes, I knew she was going to take him. She is quite fond of that particular human." The lizard monster is talking about my Randall.

"Why is she so fond of him?" I blurt out. She knows he's mine.

"Oh, I'm not certain. We all have those who we choose to keep close." If Delia had eyebrows one would be raised as she answers me.

I blush, probably coral red. She's referring to me and Randall.

Lorren clears his throat, drawing my attention back to the merman who brought me here. His hand is still firmly planted on my lower back. As usual he's uncomfortable with all the Randall talk, and it shows in his body language. His muscles are tense. He's close enough that I can feel the side of his chest against my arm. Why does he get so weirded out whenever Randall is mentioned? Jealousy?

"We have to save him. I can't allow Veronica to dig her witchy claws into Randall. Tell me where he is and I'll find him." I come off harsher than I mean to. My reasons are justified, Delia will understand.

"Hmm...you're concerned for Randall? I see. We can assist you, Alaya, you are not alone. It is time this Witch of the Land and I met face to face." Delia rises from the pool. Her slender body was made for water life. As she slides up the side onto the flat surface of the rock floor, sharp toes come to view.

I'm unable to tear my eyes away. The longer I look at her, the more beauty I see.

"Mind your manners, silly girl." Lorren pokes me in the ribs with the index finger of his free hand.

I glance quickly from him to Delia in time to catch her smiling at us. Are we amusing? I shouldn't say that out loud. Self control, Alaya.

"Can I come?" Vallah is retrieving her clothes from the ground by the furthest end of the pool from where I stand.

I see she's completely naked and big sister mode kicks in. My eyes dart back and forth between Val and Lorren to make sure he isn't watching her. I breathe a heavy sigh of relief when I realize he's paid her no mind. He's staring at the pool water in disgust. There's something fishy about this water.

Normally merpeople don't care about nudity. I don't know why I suddenly felt so protective over it. Maybe because it seems like Vallah is looking more and more like a grown woman every time I turn around. Oh, I don't know.

"You absolutely cannot come with us. Mom and Dad are losing their minds because you ran off. You can't be so selfish, Val."

Vallah begins to protest, stopping mid whine at Delia's raised hand.

"I agree with your sister. I will have someone take you to your parents. Remain there until we have concluded our business with the Witch of the Land. Under no circumstance are you to leave the confines of their home. Are we understood?" Delia's skin starts to shift as she speaks. Sandy scales turn to human skin. Before her final word is out, she's completely in human form, nude and beautiful.

"Yes, understood," Vallah answers quietly.

Delia nods to Lorren who disappears through the glittery hole we came in. Vallah slumps down by the side of the pool, white towel wrapped around her torso. She pays no mind to Lorren. In fact, now that I think about it, she didn't acknowledge him when we arrived. What's up with that? Does she not remember him from the sea?

"You are safe here until my guard has prepared a vehicle to take you home. If you choose to leave this room one of my guards will escort you wherever you decide to go." Delia smiles warmly at Val, her yellow eyes gentler when she regards my sister.

"I know," Vallah pouts childishly, looking every bit a young teen.

"Oh, sweet merchild, you are so amusing," the witch coos. "When I return, I shall pick you up and will continue your lesson."

Vallah nods, eyes focused on the clear, mysteriously lit water.

I don't like how familiar she acts with my sister. It's only been a day. I can't help but wonder if she's put a weird control spell on her. Possibly.

"Our transportation is ready, mistress." Lorren has returned from apparently procuring a ride for us. His face stoic, he's all business around the witch. In his hand a neatly folded set of clothes which he holds out for her to take.

With Vallah safely underground I feel a little more at ease with Delia. So far she appears to be quite nice. I wouldn't want to get on her bad side though. Who knows where that could lead?

Our transportation is a black minibus. When I look at it all I can think of is a party bus like the ones you can rent with all the bells and whistles inside. Humans come up with the strangest contraptions to occupy their time.

The door slides open, revealing a middle age human man with a round belly. His ginger hair combed over haphazardly to cover his balding scalp. Wearing a uniform of navy blue slacks and a short sleeved white button up shirt, his face is a light with a joy he only knows. He's harmless. I think.

Delia steps up into the van first, dressed in the loose fit jeans and plain black blouse Lorren retrieved for her. Her feet are completely bare. I mimic Lorren in letting her pass. He still hasn't spoken other than to address her respectfully. I'm beginning to think the sea witch is stricter than I first thought.

The inside of the bus is exactly what I pictured. It's a party bus with a wrap around plush couch encompassing a "recreational" pole secured from the floor to the roof. The roof itself is lined with rope-lights that I imagine cast a tacky, multicolored glow. A minibar and flat screen TV complete the back. I just don't see how riding around in this is fun. I guess I'm not old enough to appreciate the party bus. Or maybe it's simply a human thing.

Lorren sits opposite Delia. I want to sit near him for comfort of familiarity but choose not to appear so weak in front of the witch. I stride to the back of the bus to sit facing the front.

"You are so unlike your sister, Alaya. So very different," Delia comments, almost questioningly.

To the left of me I can sense Lorren's interest in her suggestion. I'd like to tell him to bug off. I'd like to say a lot right now.

"Yes, we're different. She's my sister. We're allowed to be different. Do you have a sister? Are all the sisters you meet alike?" I know how defensive I'm coming off. She doesn't need to know what I've only just learned.

"Hmm," she hums indifferently. She turns on the couch to survey the roadside as we speed by.

"What's your problem?" Lorren whispers loudly. Delia can no doubt hear every word, though she doesn't seem to be paying attention to us.

"No problem here. I don't feel like talking about my sister right now." I'm not very convincing.

"Right, and you expect me to believe that shit?" Lorren scoots closer to me and lowers his voice. "She said you and your sister are different, you don't need to bite her head off for it."

"I'm sorry, but my sister is a sensitive subject for me right now. And what's up with you anyway? You've hardly spoken to me since you introduced me to the witch. You want to explain that?"

Lorren stiffens and for once looks nervous. He peers at Delia from the corner of his eye without moving his head. For a moment I think I see fear in his gaze. But that can't be right. Lorren is fearless as far as I'm concerned. Yes, determined, aggressive, and fearless.

How well do I really know this guy though?

"There are some subjects that should remain unspoken, silly girl." And just like that he's back to the calm, cool Lorren I've come to expect.

"Likewise when it comes to my sister, silly boy."

The sexy smirk he gives me when I return his silly name is a bit overwhelming. I mean, when he shows even the slightest bit of enjoyment, or humor, his level of attractiveness hits the roof. Good for him, bad for me. I've got to get to Randall before I really do something stupid.

"Almost there, kids," Delia interrupts and I'm relieved for the distraction from Lorren.

I lean over the seat to look out the same window as Delia, careful not to give Lorren anymore attention. We're in an industrial district of some town, not mine. This isn't exactly the sort of place one would expect a party bus. Then again, one wouldn't expect witches to exist either.

"You know I would never harm your sister, don't you?" Delia's voice is like an intercom buzzing in over the sound of my mind racing.

My lips twist in thought. No, I guess I have no legitimate reason to believe her intentions with Vallah are potentially negative. Just because one witch is evil it doesn't mean the other is. I know she isn't completely harmless, but maybe with supervision she can spend time with my sister.

I shrug in response. I honestly don't know what to say anymore.

"You know, I have lived my entire life in solitude. What little interaction I've had is with the merpeople who come to me for help. It's nice to have someone to talk to. Lorren and I have words with one another but it isn't the same. I've known him for less than two months, and in that time he has been merely an assistant of sorts. Your sister has provided me with great companionship in only a day. I hope that we can keep in touch once your kind returns to the sea." She's attempting to make conversation with me, and I don't want to hear it.

"When I left the sea last year to help the merpeople I had nothing but hate in my heart for humans. But then a human couple took me in and showed me a generosity beyond kindness. I've learned that not all which you think is bad is actually bad. Along with that, not all you think is good is really all that good." Delia's story is nice, if it's true.

I'm not being selfish or inconsiderate. Being friends with a sea witch isn't on my "to do list" for today. I have too much on my agenda as is. Maybe later, once all this craziness dies down. Maybe.

I smile weakly at her before turning so my side is against the seat so I can rest my head against the cushiony top.

The day is fading quickly. Time is passing by faster than I thought. Glancing around the interior of the party bus for a clock, my eye catches Lorren staring at me inquisitively. I check my cell phone. The screen reads five-twenty. It's been several hours since my last text from Randall, too many hours.

"You worry too much, Alaya. Everything will work out, your sister is perfectly fine and Randall is safe." Delia's slithery voice glides over my skin, causing bumps to raise on my arms. She has quite the effect on a person using only the sound that comes from her throat. Frightens me to think of what else she's capable of.

"You can't know that. You can't know he's safe, or that he's even alive."

"Alaya, stop with the anger. We'll be there soon, and you can save your little human boyfriend. None of this is Delia's fault, so don't you dare take it out on her," Lorren snaps loudly at me, and I recoil against the plush purple seat.

"Lorren," Delia scolds, "don't speak to her in such a way."

I thought I was feeling low until I see the Lorren's expression. His eyes go blank, instantly ashamed. Each muscle in his body slumps until he looks almost molded to the seat. The frown formed by his full lips is the deepest I've ever seen on anyone's face.

It's always the mention of Randall that gets Lorren so riled up. He did say that whatever Delia did to him to make him useful to her has had unwanted side effects. Is mood swings one of them? Jealousy perhaps?

"My most sincere apologies, mistress, I forgot my place for a moment." He's back to prim and proper speak.

Delia simply nods. Her attention is once again directed at me. I can tell she has something to say but won't. I gaze past her into the unforeseen distance, mostly buildings block my view. She's still looking at me. I can feel the side of my face heat. All I want is for this day to be over. I'd like nothing more than to be home, in my own bed, with all the people I care about the most safe and sound.

"Ah, up ahead. Lorren, please tell the driver to take the next left and park close to the building." Delia doesn't look out the window as she orders Lorren about. I wonder to myself how she could possibly know where we are going.

"Are you certain they're at this building you're taking us to? Of all the places they could be, this is it?" I inquire after Lorren has disappeared from sight.

She smiles warmly, too warmly. "The Witch of the Land has attempted to make contact with me numerous times. This is where they are."

"Oh," I mouth. I was kind of hoping her answer would be a bit more magical.

The party bus slows to turn left. The streets are busy at this time of day. Rush hour traffic the humans call it, people getting off work and heading home. Cars bumper to bumper and people crowding the sidewalks, it's like everyone is out right now. So unlike my town.

Lorren strides past the divider curtain as the bus pulls up along the curb in front of a textiles plant. His perfect posture reminds me of the human soldiers my father once pointed out to me in Washington DC when I was a child. I guess it fits, he is a loyal soldier of the sea witch.

"We have arrived, Mistress."

Delia's human legs move so naturally it makes me wonder how she ever functioned without them. Lorren holds his hand out for hers to assist her down the stairs—a formality of sorts, she does just fine on her own—his face is stoic, completely unreadable. As soon as her hand is out of his he's reaching for me. I find myself blushing uncontrollably. I wish he didn't make me feel so squishy inside but take his hand despite my reservations.

"This is it? A witch hides out in a factory? Not very menacing," I comment.

"All one needs is walls and a roof." Delia smirks and her veil of magic twitches revealing the lizard woman beneath for a fraction of a second. To the human eye it would have been nothing but a trick of sunlight.

"Are you sure we should take her? I don't think it's safe. What happens if she gets hurt?" Lorren voices his concern to Delia, pissing me off.

"Don't talk about me like I'm not right here. I'll be fine. Besides, I have to go, Randall is here." I say it as though it explains everything. I really don't have the faintest clue what I'm actually going to do.

"She's out of her mind, Mistress. Her obsession with the human has clouded her judgment."

Again he speaks to her over the invisible me. Maybe he's right, maybe I am being irrational and my love for Randall is causing me to make decisions I wouldn't normally choose. Then again, what does he know about love?

"Let her follow her heart, Lorren. She wouldn't be here if her heart didn't tell her to be. We'll be right by her side. And I'm sure you won't let any harm come of her. You'll be here if things happen to fall apart." The insinuation in her words is enough to make me cringe. Why do Lorren and I have to share this ridiculous connection with one another? At least Delia is getting kick out of it.

The entrance to the plant is a simple set of tinted glass doors. Around back is where the action happens. Signs everywhere inform us that the loading docks are at the rear of the building. Good to know, I don't know why, but good.

"Good evening, folks. How might I help you?" A brusque man in a blue and white security uniform greets us from behind a wide gray laminate desk. His hair is white and wiry, standing straight off his head in the oddest of ways. I think to myself he looks like he's been electrocuted, and I realize he has.

"You know who we're here to see. Tell her I have arrived, she will know who you are referring to." Delia holds eye contact with the guard for the longest of moments. If I could guess, I'd say she's communicating with him telepathically.

"I'll see what I can do," he responds robotically. With the movements of a marionette puppet he stumbles over his own feet through a door slightly to the right of the pointless desk.

"What's wrong with him? Electrocution?"

"Silly girl, the witch zapped him, a little temporary mind control. He'll be back to normal by the morning." Lorren laughs at the poor man's condition.

"So you've seen someone get zapped?"

"I've learned a lot in the short time I've known Delia. Believe me when I say not everything I've seen is as harmless." He shivers at the memory of events I have no interest in hearing about.

"No one claims innocence in magic. A price is always paid, whether by me or a random participant. I try to avoid seriously injuring others when possible. Sometimes it's simply not possible." Delia retreats from behind the desk empty handed.

"What were you expecting to find?" I ask.

"Nothing in particular, any signs of a trap. It's always important to be aware of what you may be walking into. There are no screens back there to indicate the guard was overseeing a live camera feed, so those cameras must be connected elsewhere." She nods to the side, gesturing toward one camera facing the entrance door. I notice two more, one facing us and another points at the solid double doors I assume lead to the main factory.

"She's watching us," I state the obvious.

The single door by the desk swings open. The frazzled man steps out and leans against the door to hold it open for us. "Right this way, folks."

I can't help but think of a creepy murderer luring people into a torture chamber with the promise of riches and sweets. Weird, I know.

Delia leads the way like she's been here before, though I know she hasn't. It's this place. The magical pull is irresistible. Wherever she's holed up, Veronica is creating a storm of power. I'm starting to get a little scared of what she might do. I'm not at all prepared to deal with an angry, power hungry witch.

This is the office side of the plant, all hallways and small rooms. Everywhere we turn there's another door. Our path cannot be mistaken. We can feel the trail she has left for us. The residual static clings to my shirt, causes my hair to stand on end.

Delia at the lead, Lorren bringing up the rear, I'm sheltered in the middle. My palms are sweaty. The hall seems to get hotter with each step I take. This sensation is unusual. Moisture to my kind would normally be a good thing. But I realize in this situation, moisture and electrical magic do not equal a long healthy life. Tonight could be my last night alive, the last chance I have to tell Randall how much I love him. Yes, Randall, not Lorren. Whatever emotions I have toward Lorren are unconscious and unwilling and are not my own. I have to tell my human before this moment is stolen from me, before the opportunity is gone and I end up like Rey, or not. Randall might end up the Rey in this instance.

"Do you hear that?" Lorren nearly pulls me to the ground in his attempt to stop me.

A loud humming and buzzing noise bounces off the walls around us, all I can imagine is the sound of a thousand bumble bees flying by your head.

"Yes, it's the machinery, we're closer to the inner workings of the plant. Remain close and keep a mindful eye." Delia's confidence is matched by her stride.

She opens a wide metal door, it's weighted to slam shut behind us. The humming is so loud in here, I'm unable to concentrate. We're standing behind a floor to ceiling wire fence. Metal stairs lead up to a catwalk over the numerous large textile machines. Humans stand at every machine, focused on the task at hand. Not one of them looks in our direction.

I'd still be standing there watching the hypnotic movements of weaving and looming thread if Lorren hadn't wrapped his arm around my shoulders to usher me up the stairs. I hate how the physical contact between us immediately makes me want to snuggle into him.

"It's almost over, you can have your human and I can go back to my witch-free life," Lorren's whisper ends up a shout over the commotion of the plant.

Somehow I don't think he really wants life to go back to the way it was before all this witch business, not that I know what his life was like before.

Delia stomps ahead with a determination I wish I had. At the moment I'm a bit chicken. She halts at the door at the end of the catwalk, leaning her ear against the painted metal.

Lorren's arm is still around me, I swear it's getting hotter in here. I'd push away but I'm too afraid of what's on the other side of the door. Plus, a small part of me—the part Delia unknowingly created— enjoys being so close to him.

A muffled scream turns my blood cold. It's a woman's scream, but a scream none the less. I'm at the door without a moment's hesitation, yanking it open. My mouth drops at the scene I've uncovered. My stomach churns, everything is becoming hazy. I might pass out.
Chapter Twenty

"Well, hello Alaya. So glad you could pencil us into your busy schedule. Come on in and take a seat, enjoy the show I've prepared for you. You know Orson and Lex, oh, and let's not forget Randall."

I shouldn't be so surprised. I knew all along she would be here. Veronica is the witch. Not the semi-nice witch, no, she could never be the nice one. She's the all out bad ass, bat shit crazy, kidnap your human, merperson killer kind. Ok, I'm not certain on the last one, but she is straight up bananas and it's time for her to go.

Flanking her like the good brainwashed henchmen they are, Orson and Lex give me the look one would picture a serial killer has stretched tight across his face right before he ends his next victim. Sneering menacingly with eyes narrowed in my direction, they're hungry for something terrible. Not a pretty look. Over Lex's shoulder I can see Randall bound and gagged in a steel chair, shirtless and without shoes, wearing only his favorite khaki cargo shorts.

"What's the end game, Veronica? What do you hope to accomplish here?" That's right, I'm brave. I'm tough. You've got my human and I'm going to kick your ass. Or at least try to.

Her laugh is shrill, my ears want to shrivel up and fall off. The screaming we heard came from her, only it wasn't screams, it was laughter. She narrows her eyes at me, peering into mine through mere slits of eyeliner and mascaraed eyelash. Oh how my courage has fled me. One look, one look is all it takes and I'm a child again, out where only grownups are allowed.

"Stupid, stupid Alaya. How can you not see? I want you gone, all of you. By the end of the week mermaids, mermen, you will cease to exist. Whether by choice or force, your kind will be extinct. Ask dear, sweet Orson here how good life as a human can be."

I'm dumbfound. Searching her maniacal face for answers, I come up empty as to why she wants this. My mystified gaze finds Orson. So, it's true. He is the missing merman everyone had been speaking of, and he's human now. Assessing his face, the fine lines, the pale skin, something's off. Orson appears drained, too worn and exhausted. He couldn't put up a fight if you held a knife to him and forced him. The lines in his face are too many. He's not far off from my age. Yet I stand and stare a man aged fifteen, maybe twenty years more in human time. He's dying. She's taking every ounce of his essence and sucking it up for herself. She's more than a witch, she's a succubus.

"You have no place interfering with natural order. We are peaceful beings, you and I. There should be no qualms with the merpeople." Delia's gentle tone does nothing to hide the ferocious snarl her mouth has formed.

"Come now, you know better than that witchy-poo. The master plan is to eliminate all inferior beings from this earth one species at a time and reclaim it as my own. When all the suitable humans of the world are left scratching their heads and looking for answers, I'll be there to give them what they want to hear. I'll be the Mama to comfort their fears, the matriarch to bring them together. Then we shall rebuild, rebuild a world made to my standards, for me."

"You think the humans are that blind? Maybe a few will believe you, but in my experience I've found humans to be the most skeptic of creatures. You won't last a day in power," Lorren scoffs.

"Mmm, I like you. I might keep you around a little longer to play with me. I don't prefer the taste of fish, but you'll do just fine." Veronica extends her too skinny arm, beckoning Lorren toward her with the flick of her wrist.

Lorren lurches forward, much to his own chagrin. His eyes scream no, his body obliges her silent request. He's wrong. She doesn't need people to believe her when she can put it into their minds without them even knowing. She deals the cards, we play for our lives. There's no winning when one being can have ultimate control.

Well, unless you have a witch of your own.

"S-S-Someone h-help me," Lorren stutters in a panic as his legs unwillingly continue to propel him toward Veronica.

"Enough!" Delia booms. "Lorren I demand you return to my side."

A simple command with a hint of magic and he's retracing his steps, back stepping into place next to the sea witch. His mouth hangs agape, eyes wide as his mouth.

"Ah, I see. I do enjoy a good challenge." Venom drips from Veronica's words, though a wry smile plays across her lips.

My instinct is to run to Randall, I am stopped short by Lorren's vise-like grip on my hand. I raise my glare from his hand on mine to the reason he's stopped me. The fuchsia electrical current emanating from Veronica's hands makes a deathly crackling pop. I know instantly that he's saved my life.

"We could have been partners, you and I. Instead you pick a bunch of water dwelling sea scum over one of your own. Such a shame really, I would have shown you a world of magic no one knew was possible." Veronica raises a pulsing ball of electricity in her right hand while palming a hand signal in the other. "Your loss."

"No, the loss is yours." With one grand swoop of her arm Delia has slipped into her natural form; smooth, thick skin and claws.

"Disgusting," Veronica mumbles, tossing the flickering ball at her.

The sea witch dives at her, narrowly missing the attack by inches. Stumbling less gracefully at her feet, Delia fights to regain footing against Veronica's minions.

"C'mon silly girl, time for us to get out of here." Lorren attempts to drag me back out the way we came. I'm so torn inside. The part of me I'm growing to hate wants to let Lorren take me anywhere. The me I know and love can't leave without Randall.

"Wait," I shout. "Let me go, Lorren. You have to let me go to him."

Randall is watching us through glazed eyes, clearly confused and frightened. My heart aches to touch him. I love him, and it's real, I know it is.

"You've made your choice then," Lorren murmurs, appearing wounded by my words.

"I've told you all along. I love him. This," I gesture from him to me, "isn't real. It's a painful side effect of magic. I don't even know you. I'm sorry, but it's the truth."

A moan of pain grabs our attention. Both Delia and Veronica are injured, we missed the entire show. The sea witch has a chunk of flesh missing from her shoulder and charred skin all over her body. Ms. Violent Witch of the Land is clutching her stomach, blood dripping down her throat. Lex is backed against the wall beside Randall. He looks as though he may have a heart attack. Former merman Orson is nowhere to be seen.

"You bitch, I'll have your lizard head for this!" Veronica hurls herself at the recovering sea witch.

"No!" The word is hardly out of my mouth and I'm on Veronica, flailing my fists at any part of her I can connect with.

My vision goes hazy. All the sound in the room slows to an alarmingly mellow pace. Lorren is yelling at me to get off, I think. There has to be thousands of volts of magical energy running through my veins. My hands are no longer moving, my body is now one throbbing sore. This must be dying. At least I bought Delia some time. Even if Randall and I do make it out of this place alive, it won't matter if Veronica happens to still be walking this earth.

I'm so tired. The pain, it's not too bad anymore. So tired. My eyelids must weigh a hundred pounds each. Is that Randall? Oh, how I love that goofy human. I'm not ready to sleep yet. But tired, I'm tired.
Chapter Twenty-One

"Wake up, silly girl. We must get out of here. C'mon, Al, let's save Randall."

Randall, the only name I want to hear, but it's coming from Lorren. I'm not dead, even in my wildest dreams Lorren wouldn't care about saving my human.

"Where?" My voice is hoarse, throat dry. I need water, lots of water.

"I assume you're asking where we are. We're still in the textiles factory, same room. Randall is still tied to the chair and giving me a rather nasty stink-eye. Both witches have beaten one another through the floor. They're down on the machinery level going at it. Mind the gigantic hole in the floor when you go save your human." There's my jealous Lorren.

"Water."

"About that, this is all I could find." He holds up a half full plastic bottle. "I didn't want to leave you for long. I'm pretty sure she shocked almost all the water from your body."

The cap is off in one twist, he tilts the opening to my mouth and I devour the delicious contents. It's nowhere near enough, but it will do for now.

"Hurry, free your human and let's go." Hesitantly he reaches for my arm to help me up.

"You do realize we can't escape her. We're staying here until she's dead. If we leave, she's just going to find us. But you knew that, right, silly boy?"

He considers what I've said, eventually giving in. I let him help me to my feet. For a brief second the urge to lean into him isn't there. My elated celebration is stomped to the ground in a wave of heated lust that washes over me. Lorren gasps, revealing that he too feels it.

My Randall has begun to grunt angrily. I rush to him, bypassing the car size hole in the floor. My fingers fumble over the ropes, clumsily undoing each knot. I'm anxious, happy, excited, nervous, overwhelmed. I'm a typhoon of emotions.

"Took you long enough...silly girl," Randall growls when I remove the clump of fabric from his mouth. The growl isn't directed at me, but the insinuation is.

"I'm sorry, Randall. I'm not exactly myself right now. No time to explain, we have to figure out how to get rid of Veronica for good."

"By get rid of, you mean kill?"

I'm going to lose him.

"I understand you have a long, complicated history with her, but she's not right in the head. You heard her, she plans to cause mass speciocide in order to create her own perfect world to rule. Either we take her down or she will make sure none of us see the light of day again, whether from land or sea."

"Alaya, I don't care what it takes. You have no idea how relieved I was when you barged through that door. By the way Veronica spoke of you I thought you were already dead. I don't care what you are or where you're from, I love you." His arms are incredibly warm and welcoming. I fall into the comfort they provide. Only his body can do everything to me at once.

"Touching, it really is, but I believe you're forgetting that we have two highly pissed off witches below us tearing each other apart for the sake of the world. What say we pop down for a peek at the action?" Lorren's sarcastic, cocky attitude should turn me off. How awful am I for liking it? Considering current circumstances I should get a free pass for the unwilling.

"I see you're more than comfortable with my girl, friend. How long have the two of you been friends?" Randall spits out friends like it's a dirty word.

"I don't have time for your petty human nonsense. We're friends. You have nothing to worry about. Your girl has made it clear you're the only one for her."

"Lorren, what happened to Orson and Lex?" I have to ask.

"Dead, both poor dumb lemurs are dead. For Orson it was a matter of time. Veronica had been draining him of his life essence since the day she discovered he was from the sea. Lex happened to get in the way of the witches, burnt to a crisp, a casualty of their battle."

"Ok, that sucks. C'mon guys, we've got a witch to kill," I announce in the bravest voice I can manage. Afraid who, me?

Lorren locates a set of stairs off the catwalk. One by one we quietly head down into the eye of the storm. Randall won't release his grip on my hand, both a manly claim of what is his and protection of said claim. Not that I'm happy to be considered anyone's claim.

The few machines still running muffle the sound of the witches fighting. A pile of once elegant tapestries now lays a cluster of mostly ashes. Hissing and crackling can be heard above the hum of machinery. My heart is racing like never before. I'm scared.

"I'm here. You have nothing to worry about. I'll protect you." Randall's sexy voice slips past my insecurities to touch me where it matters most, my heart.

"Have you already forgotten that I came here to rescue you?" I laugh at the absurdity of little ol' me saving big strong Randall.

"I have not," he smiles.

Lorren, ignoring us, sneaks around to the opposite end of the plant, his head visible over a giant spool of thread. I follow his gaze to the source of all the excitement, Veronica and Delia.

"We have a lot to talk about later," Randall murmurs. I catch him staring at the destructive heap of magic rolling on the floor.

"I promise you, I'll answer every question you ask honestly." Giving his hand a reassuring squeeze, I begin to gently tug him by the arm, leading him to where Lorren ducks under a spool.

"Got a plan?" Lorren asks indignantly.

"No, you?" I mimic his attitude.

He grunts in return. Jealous much?

"The lizard one is beat the hell up. Doesn't seem much longer before she breaks," Randall points out.

I can do this. I am brave. No one else needs to die today, just her.

"What's on your mind, silly girl?" Lorren's smirk is near irresistible.

"Please stop instigating," I beg. "If this is my last day on earth I sure as hell don't want to spend it listening to you two bickering."

"Fair enough," Lorren shrugs.

"No problem," Randall, to my surprise, agrees.

"Ok, so don't be mad at me for this. I love you more than words can convey, and if I survive I'm willing to give us a chance." I reach up and place my hand on the back of Randall's neck, pulling him down to plant the most desperate, passionate kiss I can manage on his lips.

"I love you, too," he whispers against my mouth.

My hands regretfully push him away as I step back to face both of them.

I am brave. I am strong. I have no clue what I'm doing.

"Lorren, I've enjoyed meeting you and learning nothing about you. I hope that we can always be friends."

"Alaya, what are you doing?" Randall reaches for me.

"You'd better not, silly girl," Lorren warns.

Of course I've already left them in my wake. I'm about to make the dumbest decision any one merperson or human could. I refuse to let the people I care about put themselves in harm's way, not when the stakes are this high. Do I have a plan? Nope.

The pounding of bare feet on the cement floor lets me know Randall is not far behind me. I can just hear him over the chaos. He's too late. I've got my sights set on the one monster responsible for the mess my life has become.

C'mon, Alaya, concentrate. What to do, what to do?

I spot it, like the pot of gold at the end of a rainbow, it's my lucky day. All I have to do is beat Randall there. I quicken my pace. My body isn't used to running at such a speed. The throbbing of my heart is painful. It doesn't help that I've been shocked by a current of magic. If Veronica doesn't kill me, the failure of my own body will.

"Let me handle her, Randall!"

"She isn't your responsibility. You don't have to take her on alone."

He's the sweetest human I've ever met. Hopefully we can work things out if I survive what I'm about to do.

Delia has been burned beyond belief. How she's still going I'll never know. Her slithery skin is blackened and peeling. The eyes that once held confidence, power, are defeated and resigned.

I've found my chance. Delia is flat on her back on a steel platform, Veronica hovering above her triumphantly, prepared to administer her final blow. I barrel up the three stairs to where the two witches conclude their battle. The plan isn't to stop, my legs continue their path. She's too busy with Delia, I go unnoticed. Hands up to protect myself, I plow right into the wicked witch.

Screams echo against the tall concrete walls of the factory. It takes a second for me to realize the screams are coming from my mouth. My arms are tucked under Veronica's as I lift her, my legs won't falter. Over the guard rail we go. Veronica slips from between my arms, falling into the massive rolling steam press on the other side of the platform. The only thing stopping me from tumbling in with her is the sharp tug on my shirt that nearly rips the soft cotton fabric right off my body.

My eyes instinctively close, avoiding the gruesome demise of the witch of the land. The machine is old. It doesn't stop when something thicker than a sheet of fabric falls between the enormous steel rollers. I hear the crunch of bones, the sizzle of flesh against steaming hot steel.

She never saw me coming. Veronica was determined to rule the world, one merciless murder at a time. She was blind with rage and power. It proved to be her weakness.

I'm lifted back over the rail easily as though I weigh almost nothing. My legs give way when I try to stand and I fall onto my butt against the unforgiving platform.

It's over, it's finally over. Why am I not relieved?

"Are you out of your damn mind?" Lorren shouts, his face inches from mine.

I shrug, staring down at my intertwined fingers. I could have died, but I didn't.

"Alaya, are you ok? What were you thinking?" Randall, so sweet and so kind, drops to his knees at my left, wrapping his big arms around me.

"I thought you were the one chasing me," I whisper.

"Yea, I was. Your friend is faster than I am," he grunts, glaring angrily at Lorren.

"You are just a human," Lorren quips.

"Enough, the both of you." Delia makes it clear she isn't requesting our attention.

"She's gone, we're safe," I breathe.

Her head turns left and right, singed scales reflecting the harsh florescent lights. She's truly a sight to be seen even burned so badly, so majestic, so wondrous, the last of her kind.

"You think that because I am the last of my kind she is the last of hers? There are plenty more monsters where she came from. This world is never safe. Other beings are constantly protecting this earth from that which is evil. Just because you don't see the monsters, doesn't mean they don't exist. Your ignorance is the ideals on which they thrive. For now you should all go about your lives as you were, but never drop your guard, never think you are safe."

"It's that easy? Pretend we're fine? Every time I step foot on land I'm going to be terrified of what lurks around the corner, for not only my sake, but my family's too. And what about all the humans acting weird in Paradise Lily? Are they a part of this somehow?" How can she be so calm?

"Alaya, you saved my life. I will never forget that. You and your family will always hold a special place in my heart. When you transition to land remember me, remember that I will do anything in my power to protect you." The sincerity in Delia's voice is consoling. "As for the humans, all will return to normal soon. The spell that repelled them from the town, that made them hollow beings, has been broken. You don't need to worry about them."

"What about me? Will you take this damn spell off me so I can forget about all of you? I'm sick of these ridiculous feelings I'm having." Lorren rubs his temples in frustration. I know he's referring to his feelings toward me.

"Oh Lorren, that spell wore off hours ago."

Now she's got my attention. I glance nervously from Randall to Lorren to Delia. How many hours ago? Does this mean what I've felt in return has been real?

"Don't worry, silly girl. It's over. I'm going home after this and I will never bother you again," Lorren answers my questioning stare. Suddenly forlorn, his eyes darken to overshadow any emotion he may be feeling.

"I'd like to go home, too. We need to talk about...what this is, what you are. Can we go, please?" Randal reaches for my hand.

"We can go." I swat his hand away, extending both my arms up and around his neck.

I hear what sounds like a growl from Lorren, but no one else seems to notice.

"Thank you mis—ma'am," Randall mumbles to Delia. He actually looks afraid of the sea witch.

"Take care of her, Randall Andrews. There will always be someone waiting to take your place, be you careless enough to forsake her," Delia hums rhythmically.

"I know," he murmurs.

"I'll see you soon, Alaya."

"Ok, Delia." I turn to Lorren. "I guess this is goodbye forever."

"I guess it is. Goodbye, silly girl." He's speaking to me, but his eyes never leave Randall. I suspect there is a threat in there, somewhere between the lines.

Randall tightens his arm around me guiding me to the docking bay to call a cab so we can turn our backs on this mess and never look behind us.
Epilogue

A bright orange Frisbee flies over my head. I'm lying out in the white sand of a beach off Spain reading a book written by a witch. I peek up from the crisp pages to see the disc float right into Vallah's waiting hands. She flicks her wrist, sending it spinning through the air, back to Randall. The sun shines on my man, bouncing off his sea soaked chest. My beautiful human.

"C'mon, Al, come play with us!" Vallah shouts.

"Seriously, how can you be a total bookworm on a day like this?" Rey jumps in front of her to intercept the orange toy.

Two years later and she still doesn't know the truth. I think about it every day. She should know. But everyone around me wants to prolong the revelation for a while longer. I keep picturing the day in my head. She's going to hate us all. Maybe they're right. Maybe we wait a few more years.

"Enough reading. Come play." Randall takes the book from my hands, laying it face down on the towel I laid out. He scoops me up into his arms and places a wet kiss on my cheek.

This is my incredible life. We've been drama free since Veronica left us. I know it won't stay this way forever. Forever is a long time. One day we may actually have to fight on our own against something stronger. Until then I just want to enjoy what I have.

Randall waits for me every year. I thought for sure he would leave me when he found out the truth. Of course at first he wasn't sure what to make of the situation. We talked for hours, days. We both cried, held one another close. When it seemed as though my secret was going to tear us apart it brought us closer. I can't see the future, I don't know how this relationship is going to turn out in the long run, but I do know I love this man and I will do anything to make this work.

Delia visits us often throughout the year. She steers clear of the land though. Her last visit didn't bode so well for the lone Sea Witch. Vallah stays with her for months at a time learning bits of magic here and there. I don't mind anymore, I know Delia will protect her.

The last time I saw or spoke to Lorren was that day at the textiles factory. It was goodbye forever. Like I said before, forever is a long time. A lot can change in the time between now and forever.

To check out more from Christina Byus visit www.christinabyus.blogspot.com
