Page 39 of Cursed Waters

It was always nature this, nature that with merfolk. Like the excuse somehow made up for being a shitty parent.

Yeah, well, it didn’t. And the day my real dad gave me my new name, I’d used my nature of vengeance to throw that precious hairpin Papa had adored so much, along with my ocean silks, back into the sea. Then I’d promised myself I’d never dwell on them again.

And yet, here I was, ripping open old wounds.

I let my frustration out by kicking at the gravel at my feet. Rocks hit the side of the dumpster, and I sighed as I tossed the net into the opened top.

The putrid scent of stale vomit hit me, making my nose scrunch up. Well, maybe a dumpster wasn’t the best place to linger around recalling childhood traumas.

I spun around, and the odor nearly choked me.

“YOU,” Papa said, stumbling a step forward.

It was him. Right here. Towering over me.

Before I even realized it, my feet were moving me back, and my spine had flattened against the side of the dumpster.

His head teetered like a metronome as he tried to focus down on me. Dark craters sank underneath his eyes, aging him more than a hundred years could. By the way his eyelids drooped, he clearly hadn’t sobered up much in the last few hours.

“They don’t know what I know!” He bellowed out each word in an alternate octave. Honestly, with the way his breath reeked of stomach acid and rum, it was impressive he could even string together a coherent sentence.

“Oh—” My voice cracked, and I had to clear my throat. “Oh yeah?” I challenged back. “And what do you know?”

Papa tried to lean closer, but the bulk of his shoulders seemed to drag him forward, and he spun a quick circle to keep his balance.

His eyes cocked to the left and to the right before pointing in some vague direction, sort of looking at me, maybe. And then they weren’t at all.

“You mightlooklike amermaid,” he whisper-shouted to the wall next to me, “but youdon’t—”

“Hey there,” a smooth voice cut in, and I felt a protective arm hook around me, pulling me out from underneath Papa’s shadow. “I don’t think we’ve met.”

The stranger’s arm relaxed over me, resting lightly on my shoulder like we were the very best of friends, and I had no idea what to think. Drunken bastards were one thing, but this?

“Wow. You’re a big dude,” the man chuckled in amazement as he playfully thumped Papa across the chest. There was a restless energy about his movements, which seemed to make it even harder for Papa’s eyes to pin him down. “Too bad my dude is even bigger.”

I felt the arm around me shrug as a dark silhouette came into view in the moonlight, towering above Papa’s great height.

An arm drew around Papa’s middle andholy—it looked like it belonged in a book about myths and legends. Impossibly built muscles wrapped around my birth father like he was literallynothing, and a strained sound gurgled from Papa’s throat as those muscles lifted him right off his feet.

“My—My daughter,” Papa choked out, and then he suddenly fell back as his captor flung him over a shoulder. The barge of a man began to turn, and I could feel his dark eyes rake over me as he moved, spinning Papa along with him. With a body built like that, there was no way he wasn’t a merman. Magic was the only rational explanation for shoulders so magnificently spaced apart.Wow.

“Your daughter?” the man next to me asked, and I had to rein in some drool so I could try to explain. Before I could start, his fingers began drumming a sprightly beat on my shoulder. “We just confirmed with the Atlantic’s official record-keeper that your daughter is deceased, Captain Galen. Her remains were lost to the ocean. Tragic.” He cocked his head just enough to throw me a knowing grin. “We can’t verify the records on land, of course, but I have no reason to doubt your scribe. He seemed like a pretty cool dude.”

A heavy footstep crunched over rocks, drawing my eyes back to the second stranger as he carried Papa away.

“He… he isn’t going to hurt him, is he?” I stammered, watching Papa’s arms dangle over the other man’s shoulder, flopping like wet noodles with each step.

“Barren? Oh no. He’s more bark than bite. Well, actually, he doesn’t bark all that much either. I guess you could say he’s more body than mouth. I’m Kai, by the way.”

“Kai,” I repeated, shrugging out of his friendly half-hug. “Thanks for, um, stepping in, I guess.” Eyes as clear as crystals beamed at me, and I wasn’t sure whether to run away or smile back. “But I could have handled him myself.”

“Oh yeah? My bad,” he said, grinning as he fished down into his front pocket. “But save the praise for after we rescue you.”

He pulled out a ring of car keys and jingled them in the air. “Nice to meet you, Nerida Galen. Are you ready to go for a ride?”

16

Claira

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