Page 6 of Adonis (Salt and Starlight #1)

Connor’s merman was a tease. Despite spending the rest of the week staring at the ocean, Connor saw no sign of him. As he watched with intent, he noticed the unique patterns of the fish as they swam among the swaying seaweed looking for something to eat. To stave off boredom, he identified all the creatures in the waters and jotted down his observations in the notebooks given for his probation.

This was far more interesting than his probation texts.

By Friday, Connor was unable to stifle the yawns that came from hours of watching for the merman. He snagged one of the harder texts stolen from his dad’s collection and sat with his back against the glass. He flipped idly through the pages, seeking something relevant to the merman. A dark ripple shadowed the page.

Connor stilled.

He turned his head, his heart thumping with anticipation. An elfin face. Beautiful. Ethereal. The only space between them was a few panes of glass. Connor’s breath hitched.

He floated in front of Connor, his tail swaying gracefully in the ocean currents, pale fingertips pressed to the glass. His blue eyes, a dark shade like the ocean at night, were trained on Connor. His eyes seemed to sparkle with intellect, conveying in heartbeats what days of research failed to. An exhilarating thrill coursed through his veins.

Connor twisted his body around, his movements deliberate and slow, so as not to scare away the creature. The heavy textbook slipped from his lap, striking the floor with a dull thud. The merman’s gaze jumped to the book, but he didn’t retreat.

The merman was mesmerising. His angular bone structure, his cool-rose lips—and those eyes. Connor was entranced. With difficulty, he forced his gaze to stray lower. The merman's abs were a mixture of human-like skin and scales, gradually fading from one to the other. Distinctive half-moon scales that glittered in varying iridescent hues covered the tail. Connor studied it, unsure if the green and blue were its true colours or if it was simply mirroring the shades of the surrounding environment.

The merman’s hand swept down, caressing the gradient where skin transitioned to scales. His chin lifted, eyes boring into Connor with a look of…pride? Connor considered. The merman had touched the same spot last time, looking—to Connor’s eyes—dissatisfied. And now he wants me to look there...

“Are you trying to show off?”

Connor smiled.

The merman’s eyes widened, gaze fixing on Connor’s mouth. Skin fluttered out and flared underneath his jaw, the faintest hint of pink on the edges. Gills? His ribs were etched with similar long, thin slits that fluttered in the water.

Connor couldn't help but smile, but he quickly brought his hands up to his face to muffle it. A recent biology book he’d read stated that humans were the only species that smiled, as other creatures from the animal kingdom interpreted the display of teeth as a warning. Connor would hate to scare him off.

The merman’s head jerked sideways, giving Connor a clear view of the gills beneath his jaw. Connor shivered as he looked at the delicate pink flesh. He knew fish had gills, but it felt uncomfortable to see something humanoid with their lungs so close to the surface, vulnerable to the outside.

With trepidation, Connor followed the merman's gaze, worrying that he’d see a shark's silhouette in the water. The merman was much larger than anything living in these waters, but without any sharp teeth, he couldn't match the attack power of the infrequent sharks who were spotted here. Underwater slaps were no deterrent.

The door at the end of the corridor swung open. Arthur stepped out of his office, the sound of his footsteps echoing. He froze in place, eyes widening as they landed on the merman. The empty coffee jug slipped from his hand and shattered on the ground. The merman shoved off the glass wall and whirled around, his tail moving in a powerful motion that sent him rocketing into the water weeds. The weeds tangled around him like tentacles, slowing his retreat until he was able to break free and plunge into the ocean’s murky depths. Connor watched him disappear into the dark with a feeling of loss. An entire week of waiting for thirty seconds.

Disgruntled, Connor fixed Arthur with an icy stare. “You scared him off.”

“I scared him off?”

Arthur repeated airily. “I scared him—he was—Ben!”

Arthur rushed forward, crunching broken glass under his feet, and he skidded to a stop beside Connor. The smell of fish and stale coffee wafted from Arthur’s clothes.

Arthur stared out at the water, eyes urgently seeking.

Another door opened; Ben leaned out of the doorway. “What is it?”

His expression fell when he saw the shattered remains of the coffeepot. “That is a problem.”

“Not the coffee!”

Arthur cried. “A juvenile, a male one, was at the glass!”

Arthur’s green eyes swept from his dad to him, and he stared at Connor with curiosity bursting in his eyes. “What was he doing?”

“Chilling with me,”

Connor grumbled. He tried to stay positive, but the sour taste of disappointment lingered in his mouth.

Ben picked his way through the coffee pot graveyard. “He came back?”

“Back?”

Arthur whirled on Ben. “You didn’t tell me he came at all!”

“Ah,”

Ben replied mildly. “It slipped my mind.”

Arthur seemed as though he wanted to throttle Ben. Part of Connor was glad to find that his dad's absentmindedness extended beyond his family. He stood up, retrieving his textbook from the ground.

“He came to the glass again?”

Ben directed the question to Connor.

“He did,”

Connor said. He retrieved a dustpan and brush and listened to Arthur and Ben’s conversation as he cleaned the glass, but it was just his dad repeating what had happened a few days ago. Connor dumped the broken glass into a bin and approached the two intrigued scientists.

“If you give me the keys to the Jeep, I can get a new coffee pot.”

Connor held out his hand. “You can be free to look over your footage and have coffee on the way.”

“Good idea,”

Ben praised, absently digging out the keys from his pocket and handing them over.

Connor went upstairs and settled into the driver’s seat in the Jeep. He realised the aftereffects of the merman encounter, as the cold air from the open windows blew across his skin, cooling drying sweat on his body.

All week he’d waited. For only thirty seconds.

He cursed Arthur for the entire drive to town.

*

Connor lazed his way through the streets, stopping at a McDonald’s. He joined the drive-through line and the sound of engines idling filled the air as he opened up his dad’s wallet to see what he’d been entrusted with. Connor snorted at the crisp hundred-euro bills.

A group of teenagers stood at the corner of the building chatting and eating. The sound of Laurence's voice was enough for Connor to recognise him immediately. Laurence flashed a dimpled smile to the girl at his side, his hands tucked in his pockets. Connor studied the group, seeing that Laurence was the only one without something to eat. The line moved forward, bringing Connor parallel to the group.

Connor rolled down his window and rested his elbow on the opened space. “Laurence,”

he called.

Laurence looked around himself, confused. Connor lifted his hand, and the movement caught Laurence’s attention.

“Connor!”

Laurence called. His voice was full of enthusiasm, as if he was thrilled to run into Connor. Laurence trotted over to him.

Laurence's bright, inquisitive eyes bored into him as he leaned against the door. “What are you doing here?”

“I’m grabbing lunch. Do you want anything?”

“I—yes, I do.”

Laurence glanced over his shoulder. “I’ll see you guys tomorrow.”

The girl frowned, though the two guys seemed nonplussed by Laurence leaving them.

“We still have class,”

she pointed out. Sharp chestnut-coloured eyes darted to Connor, and her brow furrowed. “Come on, Laurence”

she said, voice laced with concern. “I don’t think this is a good idea.”

“It’s fine,”

Laurence replied calmly.

He trotted around the front of the car and climbed into the passenger seat without hesitation. Connor had something else in mind, but he couldn't bring himself to tell Laurence he only meant that he’d buy him lunch. They inched forward with the line as Laurence settled into his seat.

“Oh.”

Laurence scrunched his nose. “It’s very fishy.”

Connor had stopped noticing the smell.

“You have time to bail.”

“It’s okay,”

Laurence said. “I’ll get used to it.”

He manoeuvred his school bag to his feet and rolled down his window all the way, letting in cold fresh air. Laurence stuck his face out. “What are you in town for?”

“I’m running an errand for Dad,”

Connor explained. They came up to the intercom to give their orders. McPlant burgers were surprisingly good.

“Dad is already sending you on errands?”

Laurence asked. “He usually bribes Nick to help him.”

A funny feeling twinged in Connor’s gut at Laurence’s nonchalance. “My dad. Ben,”

Connor corrected him.

“Oh, oh yeah, I forgot,”

Laurence said with a sheepish grin. “It’s cool that you can drive. I want to learn, too, but Nick gets nervous whenever I’m behind the wheel. He doesn’t trust me not to crash.”

Connor briefly met Laurence’s gaze, weighing up his feelings before saying, “I can show you.”

“Really?”

A wide smile spread across Laurence’s face.

“Sure.”

Connor parked in the lot next to the fast-food building so they could eat. Despite Connor’s efforts, Laurence insisted on giving him money for the food.

“I work with dad in the kitchen on the weekends,”

Laurence said. “I get paid for that. And I worked full time during the summer, too.”

“How old are you again?”

“Sixteen,”

Laurence said. “What do you usually do during the summers? Do you work?”

“I spend it on the water,”

Connor said between bites of veggie burger. “It depends on the day that’s in it. If it’s calm, I’ll paddleboard and snorkel. If it’s choppy, I’ll surf. I’ll sail, too.”

Sailing was for when loneliness came calling, and he needed the distraction.

“You can surf?”

Laurence gazed at Connor with a look of awe, and Connor felt a budding fondness for Laurence.

Connor scratched the back of his neck as he fidgeted. “I can teach you that, too.”

Laurence grinned. “Yes, please. Oh! And—”

Laurence devoured his wrap in a few bites as he dug out his phone. “I had to do a lot of digging, but I finally figured out who owns Ben’s lab. I found an old interview talking about it. Here, listen.”

Connor raised an eyebrow. “Oh yeah?”

“It’s called the Infinity Project,”

an excited voice crackled through the speaker on Laurence’s phone. “As many people know, my father was obsessed with figuring out the key to immortal life—though, for all his good traits—the man was a dreamer. He dug into the earth seeking chalices and buried unicorns when really that was a misguided notion entirely.”

“He funded hundreds of archaeological digs around the world,”

the interviewer said. “The world of archaeology would look very different today if not for—”

“I, however, am approaching the problem with more reason than he did.”

The man’s voice rose above hers. “The answer lies, as it always has, in the ocean. I could go into the details—the genetics, the research—but people falter with the science of it, so I will sum it up as this: The Infinity Project seeks to find what it always has; the key to immortality.”

A long pause followed the declaration.

Connor’s attention strayed from his burger to the interview.

“You are cutting funding to archaeological sites worldwide so that you can seek immortality? Am I hearing this right?”

The woman sounded aghast.

“It’s within my grasp!”

Laurence clicked away and cast Connor a pleased grin.

“I never realised my dad worked for someone crazy.”

“He’s a little unhinged,”

Laurence agreed. “But you need someone crazy to build an underwater lab…”

The wistful note in Laurence’s voice was unmistakable.

“Do you want to see it?”

Connor asked. “You won’t be allowed inside, but I’m sure from the outside it will be fine.”

“As long as that won’t get you into trouble?”

Laurence asked, eager.

“It’ll be fine.”

Connor drove to the lab, but as they approached the checkpoint, Laurence’s curious look turned wary. He sank in his seat and was barely visible above the dash when they stopped by the guards.

Liam—the taller and less scary guard—peered into the Jeep, locking eyes on Laurence. Connor rolled down his window, shifting forward to block Liam’s line-of-sight.

“We’re just going to stay outside and practice driving in the lot,”

Connor told him.

For a moment, Connor thought they would turn him back. Liam acknowledged Connor with a slight tilt of his head. “You got the coffee pots?”

“Two.”

Liam grunted. He stepped back and waved Connor through.

As they drove to the lab, Laurence remained hunched down. “They’re scary,”

he whispered.

“It’s an expensive lab,”

Connor said. “Wait here. I’ll drop these inside and come back out.”

He kept his own iffy dislike of the guards to himself. It stemmed from the frustration of being unable to recall where he’d seen them before.

Laurence nervously scanned the area behind them, his eyes coming to rest on the shorter guard, Rick, and his big dogs.

“Laurence.”

Connor got his attention. “Here.”

He handed him the keys. “Lock it while I’m gone. I’ll be two minutes at most. Okay?”

Laurence relaxed as he took the jangling keys from Connor. “Okay.”

Connor was quick, not bothering to go downstairs to tell his dad he was back. He would find the coffee pot when he went looking for coffee.

Laurence was spying on the guards as Connor approached the Jeep. He walked up to the passenger door, nodding for Laurence to unlock the door.

“Scoot over,”

Connor instructed.

Laurence bit down on his lip and nervously glanced at the driver's seat. “There’s a lot of equipment in here. What if I crash and break it?”

“Do you think this is a place that can’t afford to replace equipment?”

Connor asked. He was trying to ease Laurence’s nerves, but the attempted reassurance came out more condescending. “You’ll be fine, Laurence.”

Connor adjusted his tone to be more gentle. “Worst comes to worst, I can lift the hand break.”

“Ben doesn’t mind that we’re using his Jeep?”

“He couldn’t care less,”

Connor confirmed. Laurence continued to fidget in place. Connor knew he was being pushy, and he knew why. Laurence seemed eager to get to know Connor, and Connor couldn't deny the pleasant feeling of being the centre of someone’s attention for a change. He was all too familiar with being shoved aside and forgotten about unless he was causing mischief.

Connor wanted Laurence to like him.

“Let’s leave it,”

Connor said. “No need to force yourself if you’re not up for it.”

Laurence’s face fell. “I am up for it. I just…are you sure this won’t get you into trouble?”

Connor's gaze lingered on Laurence for a moment before turning away with a flick of his eyes. “I said it’s fine. Scoot over. We can do some doughnuts if you get the hang of things quickly.”

“I can’t do that with those two watching me…”

Laurence said. But he smiled and moved into the driver’s seat. Before Connor was in the Jeep, Laurence stalled out.

Connor whistled in appreciation at the grinding of the clutch and the sputtering of the engine. “You didn’t tell me how talented you were.”

“Don’t be mean!”

Laurence said, mortified. His cheeks and ears flushed a deep red. As Connor leaned back in his seat, he bit his lip to keep from laughing.

“Put it into neutral first, then start the engine,”

Connor explained. And prompted by Laurence’s blank look, he then explained where the clutch was and how to put it into neutral. Laurence successfully started the engine.

He beamed at Connor as if he’d struck gold.