Those large eyes blinked owlishly at her for a beat before Emory’s expression melted into one of pure disbelief. “My Clementine, I wouldn’t leave. This is my home.” He paused, thinking hard, before he added, “And you are here. If you were somewhere else, I would go there instead. You are not allowed to go anywhere without me.”
Clementine wasn’t sure if she should be flattered or worried about how much her predator seemed to like her already. Perhaps a normal person would have been creeped out, but after a small internal debate, she decided that she actually appreciated how straightforward he was. There wasn’t any guessing about whether Emory wanted to be her friend or not.Clearlyhe did, and that was an enormous boost to her confidence, squirming eels aside.
Offering him a smile, she asked, “Are you saying you live around the islands?”
Emory, seeming to lose a little interest in the conversation, reached out to twist a lock of her hair around one of his webbed fingers. She held perfectly still, her stomach turning over in a strangely pleasurable way, when he rubbed the strands between his thumb and forefinger with an utterly fascinated look in his eyes.
“I was born here,” he answered in a flippant, distracted voice. “My siblings live around the bay, but I claimed the islands after my parents passed.”
“Oh, I’m sorry to hear that.” She couldn’t help the way her smile turned shy when she added, “I kept thinking of you as my neighbor, but I didn’t think it was really true. I’m happy it is.”
The relief she felt knowing that someone who liked her lived close by was huge. It didn’t matter that he was odd, liked to break into her home, and seemed obsessed with touching her hair. She couldn’t afford to be picky. He could stalk her all he liked, so long as he stuck around.
Nerves jumping, Clementine steeled her spine to ask, “Would you— I mean, since you’re my neighbor, would you maybe want to stay for dinner?”
Emory froze, then, in a movement that was shockingly fast, he had her flat on her back. She gawked up at him as he lowered his body over hers. When his face was barely an inch from her own, he rasped, “My precious creature, you make me the happiest man alive. A gift of fine rope and now a meal? The pod will weep when they discover what a treasure they have lost.”
A nervous laugh bubbled up from her throat. There was no denying that Emory was a strange being, but she liked that he was a little weird. After all, wasn’t that what people thought of her, too?
“Um, I take it that means you want to stay?”
Emory nodded slowly, like it was a matter of grave importance. “I will accept your meal, my precious one.” Moving with clear deliberation, like he was trying to telegraph his every movement, he reached up to pull his satchel around to his front. It rested on the floor by her hip. Slipping his hand inside, he continued, “But I also brought you a gift. It would please me very much if you accepted it.”
“Oh, that’s so sweet of you. I…” Clementine’s words died as she registered what it was that Emory extracted from his satchel.
It was a package. A… meaty one. Blood filled the creases in the plastic wrapping, highlighting the pale hunk of flesh within.
“Shark liver,” he proudly announced. “The best part. Something rich and fatty for you.”
Clementine swallowed thickly. It wasn’t so bad. She’d grown up in the most rural parts of the UTA. The gods knew she’d seen and eaten her fair share of game in her lifetime. She’d even butchered some. There was no way in the world she was going to mess up her new friendship by being squeamish about some bloody meat.
Don’t be a weenie!
Summoning a smile, she replied, “Can’t say I’ve tried it before, but I hear everything’s good with a little butter and garlic.”
She was no expert on his expressions, but if she had to wager a guess, she would say he looked enormously pleased with himself. The tension on the lock of hair in his grip tightened, slowly but surely, until Clementine found herself arching her neck.
Goosebumps broke out across her skin when his breath ghosted over her lips.Oh,she thought, a sudden peculiar weightlessness expanding inside of her.This doesn’t feel… friendly.
Emory curled her hair over his pointer finger again and again, looping it slowly, as he whispered, “I’ll always feed you well, my Clementine.”
“Um…”
He tilted his head. Just a bit. Just enough. The words died on her tongue as Emory skimmed his lips over hers — a chaste, tickling sort of caress that was, without a doubt,not friendly.
Clementine gasped, shocked by the way the weightlessness inside her transformed into something heavy and sweet and syrupy:desire.
Seeing as it was the first time she’d experienced it with another person, it was all she could do to keep up with the seachange inside her as the merman’s tongue flicked out to trace the contour of her lower lip.
He didn’t force it into her mouth. He didn’t kiss her deeply. He was infinitely gentle when he tasted her, then pressed the lightest of kisses to her slack mouth.
And yet she heard the song of his mind growing louder, fiercer, and knew that the gentleness was an act. The restraint was rigidly enforced. The need she felt more than heard in the melody was a howling, possessive beast that had slunk out of the shadows when she wasn’t looking.
She should have been afraid, but that song…his songdidn’t scare her. Instead, it struck something inside of her, pulled it taut, and then released it with a snap.
Clementine released a shuddering breath.What a first kiss.
“You’re not here to be my friend, are you, Emory?”
