Page 4 of Magic Potions and the Merman's Lure

Despite what human lore says, Aquanas love deeply, though perhaps a little too quickly for humans, and mate for life. In many cases when a sailor is said to have gone missing, a lovestruck Aquana is the root cause. We breed effortlessly with humans, so it is natural that we find mates among them to bring new blood into our lines, though non-breeding pairings are treasured as well. All it takes is the smallest amount of magic in the blood to call to us, but it’s even better when it is a witch ripe with magic. But that is rare for Aquanas to find.

The Emporium, therefore, is intoxicating like the fabled Seas of Bliss that lie beyond the lands of the dead with its layered, textured scents of human magic and the overwhelming smells of powders and herbs. Entering requires a moment or two to breathe deep in appreciation as this is something I’ve never had the chance to experience while fishing for my pod around our hidden cove. Not that the cove is all that interesting. It is mostly used by the paired Aquanas to rear their families in secluded areas and offers little of interest for adult males and females of breeding age. I was pleased when I finally became of age to leave the pod territory and search for a mate, but after years of searching I’m starting to doubt that I will find one. Or that it may be a great many years before I do.

Which is something I know that I should expect, but I am more impatient than most males. I know it is normal for many males to spend their first two centuries traveling the seas, scenting for a female. So, I try to remind myself that there is no hurry. No one expects a young Aquana to mate early. Especially not males, as we are slower to find mates.

There should be no urgency, but I can still feel it like a current running beneath my scales demanding that I hurry. Perhaps this is normal for one who is a quick and decisive hunter. My nets are always full because I know where to go to get what I want. And I know exactly what I want and what I don’t want. I have no interest in fighting in bloody contests with other males, risking injury just for the hope of attracting a female Aquana’s attention.

I avoid the flirting grounds of the females of my species and have been slowly making my way up the coast for the last few decades, hunting for an area that possessed energies that appeal to me. Not just because it is the most likely place to find my mate but because it is likely to become where my mate and I will nest. I have anticipated this from the moment I left my pod. I knew I wouldn’t return. While those who mate with female Aquanas usually join the pod of their mate, those who choose to seek out human mates often prefer to stay in secluded places close to land where their mate can live comfortably near other humans. Males are notorious for becoming obsessively protective and indulgent of their mate’s needs, so I’ve anticipated this eventuality and eagerly await it.

I haven’t been here for more than a few weeks, but already I know that this is the place. I can feel it in my blood. Unfortunately, I’m no closer to finding a female to whom I feel the pull, and my time is almost up before I must return to the water. Worse, I am no closer to getting my supplement, and every night I must abandon my search until the sun rises again.

“I’m sorry, Ro,” Adiele says, wincing in sympathy. “Still nothing from Underidge coven. I check on it every day and it hasn’t been mailed yet. My order keeps coming back as ‘processing’ whenever I pull it up.”

“The fault is not yours, Adiele,” I reassure her. “Is there no one else you might ask? Perhaps someone who might be able to tell you how to make it?”

I am startled when she laughs, but I know it is not from cruelty. “Covens sharing their secrets—that would be the day,” she chortles. “I’m afraid this recipe is the new family secret of the Underidge coven. I would have better luck in prying secrets from the dead than from anyone in that coven. The only time magical knowledge willingly gets shared these days is if a coven’s family line dies out and their grimoire gets donated to the library. So, unless that happens, we are likely shit out of luck. I even put in a call to my family, but we’re a newer line and there wasn’t anyone who is advanced enough with sea magic to be of much help.” Her expression suddenly clears a little. “But I do have a friend from a long-lineage family in the area—the Durmonts. Well, Keri is a Thane-Durmont, but practically the same thing—it’s all the same family coven. The Durmonts might have a few ideas we can try.”

I am not optimistic, but I know she is trying to help me and showing me far more kindness than most others since I have come to shore. Aside from the response I get from witches, many people seem to subconsciously react to my presence with either fear, hostility—mostly from males—or desire. Avoiding contact with strange females who don’t know proper decorum has been a nuisance at best.

Case in point, I can’t miss the sudden teasing brush of a stranger’s fingers across my ass. I smother the instant desire to extend the lethal spine fins of my true form. Having such dorsal fins extended running down my back and from my shoulder to elbow is not a good idea. It is far too lethal for close quarters with humans, but like most Aquanas, I do not like being physically touched by anyone but my mate. I turn my head and look down at a lithe little brunette smiling up at me, and I scowl my displeasure fiercely at her.

I am about to open my mouth to chastise her when Adiele intercedes and, with a few terse words exchanged with the female, hustles her out the door. Moments later, Adiele returns with a shaky smile, one that tells me that she is not entirely unaware of how dangerous my species can be.

“So sorry about that,” she says. “I swear some of the women around here must have a death wish or something to even risk putting their hands on a fae without invitation.” She gives me a concerned look. “Are you okay?”

I draw in a deep breath and slowly force myself to relax by small measures until I am once again calm. Having regained my control, I give her a grateful smile. “Yes. My thanks.”

She returns the smile, relieved, and then turns thoughtful. “You know, despite being a coastal town, we don’t get too many aquatic species in Washington. In this part of the country, your kind are more common along the coasts of Oregon and California as far as I can tell. I blame it on our weather. The Pacific Northwest tends toward cool and dreary more often than not,” she observes. “I can imagine that it can be a bit nasty compared to the warm waters farther south. We’ve never even had the occasion to need aquatic supplements before.”

She doesn’t realize it, but everything that she says is part of the reason I’ve come here rather than hunting for a mate among the warmer waters to the south. Not only do I like the raw energy of the place, but I like the fact that I will not potentially be competing with others of my kind. It gives me hope that I will be successful in finding a mate here.

“I like it.”

Her eyebrows climb. “You do?”

I take a breath, holding it deep in my lungs, enjoying the various flavors of the energies. There is a sweet note that I’ve caught here in passing that I particularly relish. “Oh yes, very much so. I plan on being here for some time.”

“Well then, that settles it,” she declares, giving me a fierce smile. “We need to get you the recipe for that supplement if you want to stick around. How long do you have until you must return to the water?”

I consider lying to her in order to conceal my vulnerability but promptly discard the idea. Vulnerable or not, I need this human’s help. Not being forthcoming has more disadvantages than advantages when it comes to getting assistance. “I must return briefly every night, but every full moon I am bound to the sea for a longer period. I will not be able to leave the sea when that happens but will be bound there until the next sunrise before the magic allows me to return.”

“Hmm. I would have thought that merfolk would be entirely lunar-oriented.”

I give her a curious look. “Whatever for? The moon pulls our tides, and thus once a month the magic of the moon and the sea captures us completely. Although we reckon many things by its pull and understand that it influences our magic, it is the sun that merfolk love. It measures the passage of time and rules our glamour. We can’t see the moon unless we rise from the waters, but the sun penetrates the upper depths. It gave us our first magic.” My lips curl wryly, and I add, “Not to mention that none of my kin would pass up a chance to sun themselves on the rocky islands.”

Adiele laughs and shakes her head in mock disbelief. “Well, I just learned a new thing then. All right then, let’s hurry and get down to the Occult Library. That’s where Keri works. I’ve never known her to not be happy to lend a helping hand.”

She waves a hand to a bearded young man walking through the door sipping on a steaming drink. “Teddy, right on time. Go ahead and bring your coffee back here. I’m going to take my lunch now that you’re here and take a quick jaunt down to the Occult Library.”

He grins as he slides behind the counter and kisses her on the cheek. “Sure thing, sweetie. Take as long as you need. We’re not usually hopping during midday, so I don’t think it will be a problem.”

“Thanks, babe!” she says as she grabs a small bag and swings it over her shoulder. “Come on, Ro.”

Dutifully, I follow Adiele out the door and down a long narrow back alley between various shops until she arrives at a heavily glamoured building. To those without magic, it would look like nothing more than a long wall extending from the neighboring building. But I can see beneath it to the high arched doorway and the bold script above it proclaiming it as the entrance of the Occult Library.

As we draw near, I taste the energy of the place. Unlike the Emporium, it lacks the chaotic feel of numerous overlapping, unharnessed, and undirected energies. Instead, it smells of power, carefully woven spells, ancient knowledge, and the musk of old books. There is another scent underneath that is cloying. The sweet smell of pond lilies and rain far from the brine of the seas. The smell of the sweet musk of a female’s magic that simply tastes “right.”

It's exotic to my senses and pulls me with such a strength that my cock jumps beneath the tight confines of my human clothing. Her energy is like the kiss of summer waves, drawing me to her as if she were an Aquana calling forth males. In a daze, I drag in that sweet perfume and take a deeper breath as we approach the door, my every instinct screaming to lure her in before any other males dare approach.

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