Page 28

“No fun drinking alone. Good night,” Aerin said to the bar staff.

“Do we need to settle up?” Gideon asked the bartender, who shook her head.

“The captain covered her tab for helping them.”

“Great.” He sighed, watching her head toward the door. He didn’t want to go through a lady’s purse looking for money. “Have a good evening.”

“You too.” The bartender smirked. “Go easy on her; it’s the anniversary of her family’s passing. She does this every year. Fair warning: don’t get in the water with her.”

Gideon frowned, wondering what she meant, but he didn’t get to ask before he had to hurry after Aerin. Sorrow filled his heart at the thought of her grieving alone; she could’ve told him. I’ve been so absorbed in finding my own family that we became like ships passing in the night. I should’ve paid more attention.

“Let’s go swimming,” Aerin said, heading toward the harbor without even checking whether he was still following.

“How about we go home and get some sleep?” Gideon reasoned, wanting to heed the bartender’s advice. A drunk siren in the sea doesn’t seem safe. For anyone. “If we wait until morning, the sun will sizzle you.”

“Sizzle is one way to put it.”

“Come on, swim with me. You can swim, right?”

“Yes, I can swim. I think,” he said, not being one hundred per cent sure. “Though maybe not well enough to keep up with you.”

“Don’t worry, I know how dangerous swimming at night can be; I’ll keep you safe,” Aerin said, taking off her dress at the end of the dock. He turned his back as she stood in her underwear. “Practically naked in front of a man in public, I fear my reputation is well and truly spoiled, so you might as well hop in with me.”

Gideon heard the splash before he could stop her.

“Aerin?” he called, anxiety gripping the back of his neck. He crouched on his knees, peering into the dark waters. “Aerin!” He banged his fist against the dock to get her attention with the vibrations.

Her head popped up out of the water, enough to see her dark eyes, her irises glowing in the darkness. Her fanged smile rang with amusement. Mesmerised, he didn’t even notice her hand reach for his wrist as he leaned down closer to her. She pulled him from the dock and into the waters with her.

Beneath the surface, Gideon kicked upward. Opening his eyes, he used his arms to stay afloat as he searched for her. She darted past him at a fierce speed. He only saw her tail, a luminescent collection of teal scales; she was gone again into the darkness before he could grab her. It was the first time he had ever felt like prey.

What kind of game is she playing? He startled as she appeared from beneath. She circled him slowly; the sweet hum of her voice echoed over him like a warm blanket, and he couldn’t take his eyes off her. On the surface, she was calm and controlled, but in the water she was playful, giddy even.

Suddenly, Aerin’s eyes focused on the dock, narrowing like a hunter on prey, and she took his hand until they were concealed beneath the dock. He stared up at the cracks in the wood to see the fishermen, Sloane, whom he had met when he first awakened, standing above them.

“Swimming is forbidden past midnight! I know you’re out there,” Sloane warned, using his flashlight on the water to find the culprits.

“Sloane’s the ghost who guards the harbor after midnight. He can get rather territorial.” Aerin giggled, but pressed her webbed fingers to his lips, telling him to be quiet. Her head tilted, and he froze when she ran her thumb along his lower lip. Her pupil dilated, and he forgot about the sound of footsteps above them. She pressed him back against the wooden dock.

“I think he’s gone,” Aerin whispered gleefully.

Without warning, she kissed him chastely, and he leaned in again far too quickly for his liking. Her lips set him on fire, a burn like the taste of her venom but far sweeter. She pulled back, as if the kiss had broken her happy trance. In her hesitation, he stroked her cheek, the fine gills on her cheekbone soft beneath his thumb. Her giddy demeanour turned far more passionate. He brought his lips to hers; her hum sharpened against his lips, passionate and demanding, like two predators fighting for survival, but if this was how he died, he’d go happily to his watery grave. He held her firmly against him, only to notice she was the one keeping them both afloat. Her fangs trailed along his jaw and neck, and he never thought he’d want to be bitten. His hand slipped into her hair, forcing her lips back to his, and her soft moan nearly broke him. His fangs at her throat, her song in his veins, he moved her away before he lost control. Confused and hurt, her gaze darkened, only to soften when she saw his fangs.

“I can’t lose control; it would kill us both,” he panted, releasing his hold on her. “Besides, you’re drunk and grieving. I don’t want you to regret this,” he started, but she splashed him.

“I don’t want to talk about this. Having you around has dredged up enough of my past. We were having fun. I saved lives today; we’re celebrating. Why do you have to go and spoil it?” she asked, while he wiped the salt water from his face.

“I don’t mean to dredge up the past or to spoil your fun, but the bartender mentioned that today is your family’s anniversary, and I don’t want you to be with me just because you’re sad,” he said, trying to be the reasonable one while his insides screamed at him to shut up and kiss her again.

“I’m not sad. Do I look sad?” she asked. “What’s making me sad is that you won’t kiss me again.”

“As much as I want to kiss you, I think we should go home and sober you up. We can talk about this when you’re sober,” he said, and she actually hissed at him.

“Talk and talk and talk, I’m tired of talking, thinking, feeling about the past. I want to move on with my life,” she whined, kicking up her tail.

“If that were true, if you were ready to move on, you wouldn’t be drinking like this every year on the anniversary. You aren’t reckless, impulsive like this. It’s like you’re punishing yourself, and I don’t want to be part of it,” he said, hating how harsh he sounded.

“You don’t know me all that well; I can be impulsive, reckless. I brought a vampire into my house to sell his coffin. That was pretty damn reckless,” Aerin said, and he let it go because when she was sober, she would regret saying anything to hurt him. “Why would I be punishing myself? They died, and I didn’t.”