Thisbeing me?
Dad shoved his plate away and rose to his feet too. “Why don’t you look over your stuff in the garage? Tell me what you want to keep and I’ll load it up to bring over when the weather clears.”
“You should stay for dessert,” Mom added.
But I had no plans to continue this farce of aholiday. I followed my dad to the garage. He led me to a stack of black plastic totes in two sizes, and lifted a lid to show a stack of old clothes and wrapped trophies. Did I want those memories?
“I can put them up,” he said and pointed above to a set of racks he must have recently installed in the ceiling, made for this particular type of box. “You can think on it.”
“Sure,” I agreed, not wanting to cut myself open wider on this shitty holiday with a walk through my past. “Look, I’m sorry for not telling you…”
“I packed your art stuff in this one,” Dad continued like he didn’t hear me. “Sketchpads, paints, brushes.” His gaze landed on me with weight. “I didn’t realize how much talent you have.”
“Had,” I corrected. “Haven’t drawn or painted in years. Not really time for that in college.” Being a grownup meant leaving behind all the childhood dreams. Isn’t that what they’d told me over and over?
The box with the art supplies was smaller than I remembered. I ran my fingertips over the warped sketchbook on top. The pages fell open to a charcoal study of the sky, clouds a hazy gray imprint that had incredible depth. Not bad work, really. Just... abandoned. Like the human version of me, and the life I lived before the change.
Did I need any of this? Probably not. But I grabbed the box of art supplies anyway. I hefted it onto my hip, and headed to the door to pull on my winter gear. Would a holiday with the kitsune twins and my cryptic boss have been better? More exciting perhaps. And likely with less internal condemnation.
Mom handed over a plastic container with a giant slice of cake. “At least take some of this with you. It’s a beautiful cake.”
“Thanks.” The wind whipped outside, and I balanced the cake on the box of art supplies as I stepped out into the storm, unwilling to stay a minute longer. Snow and an icy bite to theair stung my cheeks as I headed home, fighting back a lot of frustration, mostly with myself. Did I want what my parents wanted for me? Mostly, I thought I wanted more. More than an average job with a family I barely tolerated, and an income that hardly afforded a comfortable living. Without the variance, would any of that be possible?
The trip through the storm back home passed in a blink as I barely remembered any of the steps, too lost in thought. I left the art supplies and cake on the counter, boots beside the door, and peeled off my wet layers and changed into warm pajamas, then collapsed on the bed, staring at the painting.
The sky over the cove was dark with the heavy weight of storm clouds. Somewhere between one breath and the next, my eyes drifted shut. I fell asleep with its image burned into the dark behind my lids, and the dream of something waiting on the other side.
5
The sensationof falling jerked me out of sleep, and I landed with a cold slap, water rushing over my head. I managed a short gasp before being dragged into the icy depths. Darkness swirled with yawning currents pulling me deeper. For half a heartbeat, I hoped it was a dream, but I was dying.
My vision darkened around the edges, the need for air eclipsed by an eerie calm as I sank, too tired to continue the fight. Water filled my lungs, carving into my soul as if it could free me from the coil of my mortal flesh.
A light flickered in the distance, racing my way. A bioluminescent green and blue coiled through the murky depths, growing as it approached. A form clarifying with fluid grace against the brutal current. His face materialized among the murky depths, webbed fingers reaching for me as the darkness stole the last of my senses.
When I woke,it was to a light, melodic hum teasing my ears, and the heat of the sun on my skin. The storm had faded, and Iabsently wondered if I had left the blinds open. Water slapped at my legs, flowing over my feet, and stealing the sand, only to slide it back in a second later.
Water? What the hell?
I opened my eyes, blinking at the burning brightness, shocked to find myself on a beach, rather than in bed. My lungs ached, and I rolled over to heave, coughing up bile, and probably water. My stomach hurt as though I’d been doing this a while, and a warm hand caressed my spine in comfort. The sweet humming resonance came from behind me, likely attached to the hand, and soothed the waves of nausea in my gut. The frequency seeped into my bones, and the pain dulled. I dozed again for a time, strong arms wrapped around me in the sun, day passing in lazy bouts of rest. Any panic from pain floated away, leaving me with a gentle calm, and sleepiness.
We lay together, my heartbeat syncing with his as he pressed himself to my back, skin warm, and smooth, mostly. Below our feet, the water lapped at my toes, and washed up around a long fin trailing off into the waves. The powerful, finned tail I’d glimpsed before, flicked lazily. On the muscular arm around my waist, pale patches of scales intermingled with his skin, creating luminescent swatches of color that gleam in the sun.
“If this is a dream, it’s a nice one.” I murmured.
“If you dream of near death often,mikró astéri, I might suggest seeking less dangerous hobbies.” The voice was like the low tide smoothing over stones, a resonant, melodic tenor that vibrated through his chest and into mine. The words were teasing, but the tone was laced with a deep, ancient weariness.
I turned to face him fully for the first time. And my breath caught, as everything I could hope for from every romance novel I’d ever read, lived within the mermaid—man... merman?
He was breathtaking. A timeless definition of divine beauty. His face, a mix of sharp and elegant lines: a defined jaw, highcheekbones, and lips lush and fit for demanding kisses. His skin was pale, as with many things beneath the sea, and smooth, giving way to iridescent scales that swept along his temples, the line of his collarbones, and down his powerful arms. They shimmered with the light, shifting between green, blue, and deep violet as he moved.
His eyes, teal flecked with gold, held me captive, as if should I dare to look away, he’d vanish. Dark lashes framed the delicate uptilt of his eyes, and I instinctively reached up to brush his hair back, running my fingers through the soft strands. It fell long and loose around his shoulders, and down his back like a living tapestry. The roots were dark and deep, blue-green fading into a beautiful turquoise and ending in white like sea foam. I’d never seen anyone, or anything as beautiful before.
“You’re…” I faltered.Real? Magic? A mermaid…man?
A gentle smile touched his lips, and he traced his fingertips over my face. “I am Skye.”
“Luca,” I breathed. “I mean, my name is Luca.” His words trickled back in. “Wait, death? Did I die?” Was this heaven? An afterlife? Did I deserve a heaven with the most beautiful creature I’d ever met?
