Page 89 of Cursed Waters

A hand cupped under my chin, and I winced. Leander’s eyes flashed as he looked me up and down. “You look beautiful.”

That line might have melted me last night, but not now. I pressed my lips together, my teeth grinding. “Mmh.”

“Don’t be afraid,” he whispered, soft and soothing. The featherlight touch of his thumb brushed over my lips, making them tingle. “I won’t let anything hurt you down there.”

He leaned in, full lips ghosting over mine. “Never,” he breathed out. And then he kissed me.

The word “us” seared like a brand in my mind as his tongue parted my lips. Maybe there was still anus. Was it possible it wouldn’t be as bad as I feared and I wouldn’t have to forget these feelings? Maybe it was stupid undersea politics that he needed to talk to me about. Some law, some rule we could work through together. Maybe we could still—

Pop.

I wasn’t sure if his arms came around me before or after we hit the water, but the clunky porch light beat against me, rough and cold against my back as we breached the surface. My spine stiffened as my legs jerked—my skin thrashing, wrenching, weaving—until they settled into a fleshy tail.

The seal of our lips broke, and a rush of water forced into my throat. “That… wasn’t fair.”

Clouds of silt spread around us as Leander’s tail swept underneath me, scooping my fin up so he could take me into his arms. “Got you in the water without a fuss, didn’t it? Here.”

He nudged his precious glass contraption up by the chain, and I took it, holding it close to my chest. Honestly, it was a wonder it hadn’t shattered when we hit the water.

“Could you maybe, uh, adjust a bit?” The column of his body squirmed, and I looked down to see my knife’s blade pressing into the vulnerable flesh right above the scales on his hips.

“Sorry, sorry,” I gasped, jerking and twisting the knot to the other side of my hip. “You said you wanted me to bring a knife.”

He tucked my head under his chin with a chuckle. “And hopefully we won’t need it. Ready for some breakfast?”

Water spun around me as he dipped, his tail driving us to the murky bottom of the harbor. Our surroundings went dark, and magic slithered over my eyes just as Leander reached forward, letting my tail slip free from his arms.

He pressed down into the forest of seagrass until a neon green light flickered to life, blossoming like a flower under his palm, the sudden light chasing the magic from my eyes with a jolt of pain.

I swore and shook my head, blinking wildly as he peeled glowing strips of sea moss from the sand. “Open it for me?” he asked, bringing a fistful of moss to the porch light at my chest.

Open it?Like a door?

Water had already filled the middle, so I turned the object around until I noticed the tiny latch and hinges bordering one pane. Interesting. So the scavenger had made more modifications than just removing the light bulb after all.

I nudged the tiny door open, and Leander wasted no time stuffing the glowing wad of moss inside it. Then he went for more. A gentle warmth started radiating from the glass as he filled it, the light growing brighter with each handful.

So it was meant to be a lantern. Should have known.

I could still recall how merfolk loved their lanterns. They seemed to build one every few tail lengths and made a big ceremony of it whenever the time to reilluminate them came. Even at bedtime, the lanterns stayed lit.

Was it because it was easier that way? Better to keep them all perpetually lit than to have magic constantly flickering your sight back and forth?

“So, you waited days for a lantern,” I mumbled, watching more magic bloom under his palm. But it didn’t make sense. “Why not just use your night vision? We could have snuck out at night, and I wouldn’t have had to worry about swimming lessons.”

I didn’t regret the time I’d spent with Kai, but being in the ocean with Barren…Ugh.

It didn’t seem necessary to mention I’d only awakened my night vision the day before. But it wasn’t like I was an important part of this operation—other than my weird touch ability. If he was the hero, then I was the magical curse breaking amulet weighing heavy on his neck. Essentially useless.

“What do you mean bynight vision?”

I gestured vaguely to the open ocean. “You know, seeing through the darkness like you merfolk do.”

He looked surprised. Stunned, even. Then he must have figured I was telling some joke, because his chest started vibrating with laughter. “If only. It would be easier if we could see through this fucking murk without a light, wouldn’t it?”

The rest of them didn’t have night vision?

“Uh… Yeah.” I drank down a slow gulp as my grip tightened over the lantern. “Sure would.”

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