Page 27 of Magic Potions and the Merman's Lure

Not that this is a date or anything. Though it is sad that I’ve also never been the clear center of my date’s attention like I obviously am with Ro. He never forgets about me in the midst of the fun. As we make our way down the dock, I can tell by his subtle movements that he is always aware of my presence at his side as if he is all too pleased to share his discoveries and moments with me. He is still very much a stranger—a colleague in our odd little study—and yet I’m feeling cherished, treasured, and wanted without Ro obviously trying.

Is this some part of Aquana magic that I hadn’t yet heard of? My mind whirls in confusion at my own eagerness as I draw him toward our destination. After being such a good sport with the dock food, I am determined to give him something I’m certain he will enjoy.

Chapter 18

Ro

My focus is entirely on the small warm hand and the female twining her fingers with mine. She beams up at me, and suddenly I’m lost. My entire existence and all that I am is hers. I’m as captivated in that smile as I am in her magic as it sweetly caresses mine. If all Aquana males feel this way when meeting a potential mate, I can suddenly understand why they throw themselves into such ruthless contests on the flirting grounds.

“Relax, you’re doing great. I know it’s a bit much right now, but I swear it’s not always this busy. I forgot that things were kicking off tonight. But bear with it just a little more. I have a treat for you.”

“A treat?” I inquire and she promptly nods, her fingers squeezing mine in a way that sounds a flutter of affection through my heart.

“Yep,” she says with a chuckle. “You’ve been such a good sport with the food vendors along the walk, but I thought maybe we could sit down and enjoy one of my favorite places tonight. I’m not scheduled to work at the library tomorrow, so we can enjoy some of the local flavor in the afternoon if you like.”

I nod in agreement. The food she’s fed me up until has been questionable, some verging on disgusting, but I trust her. At this point she could probably ask me to do anything, and I would nod haplessly, lost in the brightness of her eyes as she smiled at me. Therefore, I follow like an obedient hippocampus on a lead when she tugs on my hand and steers us down the crowded dock. There are so many strange smells of hot fish meat, and I am bewildered by the fact that I cannot decide whether I find them appetizing or not. They remind me of the smell of marine creatures rotting in the sun where they wash up along the rocks and beaches of the cove. That I find this smells intriguing is enough to make my stomach turn until I’m suddenly hit by a waft of sweet, fresh fish as Keri tugs me inside a restaurant.

I cast a curious glance around at the dimly lit interior. Much of the restaurant is done in deep reds and browns with hints of gold that I find to be visually pleasing, as is the tank along one wall filled with several brightly colored fish. The atmosphere is pleasant, and when we are seated at a table, I find myself peering at the sheet of human characters that I cannot read with interest. Keri scoots closer, and I nearly groan as her scent fills my nose.

“From your description of foods your people enjoy, I thought you might enjoy tasting some sushi and sashimi,” she says in a low voice. “How much do you trust me?”

I gaze over at her, entirely fascinated with the pleasure in her gaze and the way the lighting makes her eyes appear darker and more mysterious like the depths hidden from the sun.

“Eternally,” I rasp, and her smile disappears for a second as she blinks in surprise before returning even more brilliantly.

A woman dressed in a very plain but elegant manner stops at our table and waits with a patient smile as my mate asks for a number of things that don’t sound familiar to me. As I expect this, I content myself with simply observing my surroundings, but most especially the female sitting across from me until my attention is distracted by several long, narrow plates set in front of us with a pair of thin paper packages set at each of our sides.

I pick mine up and peer at it curiously as I slowly strip the paper from the wood tucked inside. I look over at my mate and see that she already has hers open and is watching me with an amused expression. Seeing that she’s gained my attention, she breaks the wood into two thin sticks and slowly demonstrates how she places them in her hand. I observe the way she maneuvers the sticks with fascination as she carefully plucks up something she calls a Dragon Roll and pops it into her mouth. I do not think it is truly made of dragon—I cannot imagine eating sea dragon as they are tough and surely taste as rancid as their personalities—but there is a spicy scent to it that I enjoy that makes me eager to try.

Cracking my sticks carefully to separate them, I attempt to spear one of the morsels, only to have the deliciously wrapped bits of fish and vegetation fall back onto the plate. I scowl at it for a long moment and attempt to grab it again, but not only do I drop my bottom stick so that it clatters useless to the table, now the roll has also fallen apart to lay strewn across the table. I gape at the mess and then snarl with determination, but my heart eases at the soft laughter of my mate as she watches. Keri reaches for another with her sticks, keeping her movements slow and exaggerated for my benefit. My eyes track the way she moves her hand as she plucks another disc the way I would pluck something up with my claws. I stare intently at the sushi and then my sticks.

I narrow my eyes at the bits of wood, and I shift them around in my fingers until I get a comfortable grip where they feel like balanced extensions from my hand. The tip of my claw unintentionally pierces the soft wood of the top stick, but as I give a few experimental moves, I decide that this is not as difficult as it looks. I am still a little unsure as I hover with the sticks suspended over the food. Keri gives me an encouraging smile, however, and I abandon the rolls in favor of the lumps of rice with slivers of raw tuna on it.

My mouth salivates with the familiar scent, but I take my time picking it up between the sticks and bringing it to my mouth. The rice is cold and pleasant—and far more agreeable than the bread stuff that humans use on everything that gives me terrible indigestion. So is the small amount of seaweed wrapped around it. But I groan with pleasure when I bite into the tuna and it melts in my mouth. Keri chuckles, and I feel something pressed against my wrist. Curious, I look down at the tiny cup there.

“I thought you might enjoy the sake. I know some people prefer it warm, but I like it chilled, especially when I’m enjoying it with sushi.”

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