Page 78 of Leviathan's Song
Sidney knew anyway. “They all grew big tails and fell on the floor!” she crowed delightedly, cackling in her own way.
The pieces fell into place. Sidney pounding on the metal piping in the rafters, sparks surging up to the ceiling, cold water on my skin. Côvon had rushed at us, but somehow, we’d gotten away just fine.
I felt my eyebrows pull together. “Do meralwaysshift into their aquatic form when they get wet?” I asked Levi.
“No,” he answered, wrestling to keep his smug delight under wraps and clearly failing. “But it’s a pretty strong reflex.” There was no mistaking the laughter in his voice.
“And do you suppose,” my father asked, his voice flat, “the mer are going to feel at all inclined to return my stone guardians?”
I blinked at him. “I built a failsafe into my orders before I passed them to the sprites. They’ll return themselves to the field outside of Whitewave in another two weeks’ time. I didn’t know how long the new construct might take so I gave myself an extra buffer.”
His relief was palpable, though he’d been less perturbed at the thought of losing them than I might have expected him to be. “And what of you, dear? How many lawyers am I going to need to hire to untangle your broken contract mess?” No anger, just tiredness.
I smothered a tiny spark of ire. He was tired and frustrated, and Sidney or Levi had called him off his project when I’d fainted. I knew my father well enough to know I would always be his little girl, even though I was grown and could take care of myself. “I can hire my own lawyers, thank you. And I never signed any contract or took a single drahk of payment. I doubt they’ll have much legal ground to stand on if they want to fight with me.” If they tried, I had no problem defending my choices.
My father settled more firmly back into his seat as he watched me eat, a hint of a smile threatening to break through as Sidney pecked at my plate and Levi toyed with the ends of my hair. I beamed at him in return, thrilled with his obvious pride in me, until Sidney interrupted with, “She needs some guards though.”
“Sidney!”
Epilogue
Levi
The word sirenhas long been synonymous with seductress, enchantress, temptress. Ancient stories tell of beautiful mermaids coaxing travel-weary sailors from their boats with their songs, only to drag them to a watery grave. The thing is, in real life, nobody treats me like a murderous sea-hag, which might actually be preferable. Instead, they clamor around me with their dazed expressions, everyone wanting a piece of me for themselves. They crave more and more until there’s nothing left to give.
The greatest irony of my life is that, by some genetic fluke, I inherited both the ability to snare and be ensnared, though it’s so much worse than that. When a male is born both mer and Human, some of us can be bound forever. It isn’t a temporary thing like it is for a full-blooded mer. It’s permanent, and so I’ve spent my entire life dodging that lure, refusing to let myself be caught by anyone.
Until her. Elara. The Empress of my heart.
I’d told Grim a long time ago that I would never be bonded, would never be owned. He’d disagreed, saying only that someday I would find someone worthy of crowning Queen of my heart. I’d laughed at him.
I can still remember what it felt like when I’d glanced up to find her standing in a crowd of magicless Voiders. A dainty wisp of a woman with hair the color of rich, dark earth and eyes like burnished chestnuts, dripping with jewelry and understated clothes. And then I smile as I remember the haughty glower she leveled on me as I sang my heart out for her, Grim’s words ringing in my ears.
My curiosity about her had been insatiable, even as my instincts had told me to keep my distance. But how could I? Once I became aware of her deep intelligence, her gentle heart, her fierce desire to be courageous... No, ‘queen’ could never describe how I felt about this woman.
I take a deep breath, ignoring a twinge of guilt at leaving her to fend for herself for a moment among the crowd of well-wishers and watch her interact with them instead. I’ve borne the brunt of their attentions for most of the formal reception, and it’s left me feeling utterly drained.
I’m grateful I don’t need to keep as close an eye on her these days. Since the fairies have made it clear they’re guarding her, I can afford to relax for a moment. Not that she can’t defend herself; she can, and she has. For someone so tiny and ethereal, my wife has an immense amount of fight in her. But I can’t help but worry. She’ll always be a target for people who would use her, and she’s just too precious to me not to stress a bit.
Even as I watch, a spark darts out to hiss at a guest who’s ventured too close to Elara, and I let out a sigh of relief. We’re not entirely sure when the fairies started showing up, stalking her quietly from the shadows, but ever since she handed the leviathan over to the sprites, she’s spied their cousins hiding in her potted plants, or fireplace, or making themselves comfortable under the row house’s eaves.
I know it makes her nervous that the sparks in particular seem to have taken a liking to her, since they aren’t exactly known for their level-headedness. I probably have Jordan to thank for that. Fire elementals have always seemed pretty chummy with the spark community, and I doubt they’d begrudge his change to a vampire, the way the other races do.
Either way, their vigilance has taken out multiple Phantoms before she ever even caught a whiff of them. Even with their headquarters decimated—also thanks to Jordan, who seems quite excited about arson in general—they still tried to poke around. I grind my teeth at the thought, and again I’m grateful for the fairy-folk’s fascination with my mate.
She is a vision as she drifts between diplomats and emissaries, rulers and governors—some family, some friends, all guests tonight at our formal wedding. My wife carries herself with a grace and dignity almost completely unknown in today’s times. She looks every bit the powerful queen she might have been in another life,especiallyin that dress. Gauzy, draping, sheer, and white, it has an open back and gold details. Jeweled chains loop over her shoulders and down her back.
My body aches, craving the beauty and softness of her. The little sounds she makes.
A throat clearing beside me pulls me back into the moment, and I scowl at Grim.
“It’s the debt,” he says, just low enough for me to hear.
I give him a side eye and have to restrain myself from messing with him. We’ve been friends for so long I don’t even bother trying to keep up with his jumpy train of thought. If I stare at him long enough, he’ll explain himself.
Grim sighs, like I’m the one being unreasonable by not being able to read his mind. “It’s a cultural thing,” he says. “The fae can’t abide being in another’s debt, even if Elara would say she’s owed no debt.”
It irritates me to no end when he answers my thoughts as if he knows what I’m thinking. He doesn’t. I’m pretty sure. I think. I cast a long look at him out of the corner of my eye.‘Dick,’I call him in my mind, and he doesn’t respond.
