Page 18 of Making Out With Mermaids (Haven Ever After #6)

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

AMATHEIA

I s it possible to feel a lover’s gaze on your body like actual hands? I swear the way Betmal stares at me has phantom fingers running over my skin. His eyes are slightly narrowed, pupils dilated as his nostrils flare. His chest rises and falls with quick, light breaths. He’s a predator ready to take its prey.

That’s me.

And I couldn’t be happier about it, despite what’s happening in the merkingdom. Away from it, it’s easier to lose myself in how much I love downtown.

As excited as I am to paint today—and I’ve been dreaming of it for two days—I’m even more excited to get him home and touch him. Now that I’ve met Stefan and I know he’s also not excited about our joining, I’m even more determined to figure out how to get out of it. Why should we suffer for our families’ sake?

Sliding my hands down Betmal’s chest, I turn and walk to my usual table. I clasp my hands together at the joy of seeing all my supplies set up and ready to go. Turning to Alé and Betmal, I smile. “Thank you both, again. This is wonderful.”

Betmal returns my expression of joy and leans against the counter, crossing a foot over his ankle. I take a moment to admire him, really admire him. He’s all masculine lines and focused intent.

But then something hits me in the head, and I topple to one side, suffocated by the sudden presence of a body wrapped around my face. Laughing, I right myself even as I sense a much larger presence, hands grasping for the tiny person who just attacked me.

“Ignatius Zion, what on earth?” Alo the gargoyle grabs his son around the waist as I try to peel Iggy off me. “We literally just talked about this!”

The gargoyle child laughs hysterically and wraps his tail around my head, the spade at the very tip slapping over one of my eyes. I can’t hold back a laugh, but that seems to egg him on as he scratches at his father’s hands and reaches for me.

“Just. Wanted. A. Hug!” he screeches loudly as Alo begins to look incredibly flustered.

Behind him, Betmal watches us with amusement evident on his face.

“Ignatius.” Alo’s stern tone brooks no argument.

Iggy goes limp as a noodle in his father’s arms, allowing Alo to toss him up onto his shoulder, where Iggy perches with a dismayed-sounding growl. They both look at me, and I bark out a laugh at seeing the exact same expression on both of their faces.

“Hi, Iggy, Alo.” I clear my throat to hold back ferocious laughter as Iggy crosses his arms, his tail lashing from side to side. He looks beyond irritated at being pulled off my head.

Alo glances at his son. “Ig, what have I said about this?”

Iggy rolls his eyes, dropping his hands by his sides and balling his fists. “That I can’t just hug monsters without checking if it’s okay, and that we have to be careful with Amatheia because of her bad leg.”

I blanch, and Alo groans, slapping a hand over his face in apparent exasperation. He parts his fingers, looking at me from between them. “So sorry, Amatheia, that part was not for public consumption. I didn’t mean to?—”

“It’s fine,” I reassure him, lifting my leg to show them both the new one. “New leg, new me. It feels awesome, and it doesn’t hurt anymore.”

Iggy zooms off his father’s shoulder and drops to the floor, rapping his knuckles on the long part of my new prosthetic. “Oh my gods, Dad, look! Her other leg was wood, but this one is different wood like metal, and”—he looks up at me—“does it get cold?”

Alo clears his throat and smiles down at his child. “Hey, Ig, why don’t we stop touching Amatheia’s leg, and sit down so she can paint us? That’s our job today, remember?”

Iggy giggles and removes his hand. “Oops! Sorry, Amatheia! Dad literally just reminded me not to touch monsters, and I touched you.”

I sit in my chair and pat my lap. “You can sit with me for a moment, if you like. I need to get my paints ready.”

He hops closer to me, then flaps his wings and alights on my knee. Alo sits across from us, wincing as Iggy tries to steady himself, one foot gripping my leg.

“It’s fine,” I mouth, waving away his concern.

And it is fine. I feel amazing. The difference in my leg, even in my posture, is shocking. I walked the entire way to Higher Grounds, and I didn’t have to think about every step. The freedom in that is unbelievable.

I grab a brush and put it sideways in my mouth.

Iggy grabs a bunch of my hair in his hand to steady himself, blue eyes flicking to the brush and then my hand as I grab the white paint. “What are you doing?”

I reach around him and take the brush from my mouth, sticking it in a jar of water Alé must have put there for me. “Just picking my brush. Now I need to outline your dad while he sits across from us. You can sit with me while I do that. But once I outline him, I want you to go sit on his shoulder and look very fierce. Can you do that for me?”

Iggy nods, grinning to reveal a gap where one of his front fangs should be.

I feign shock at his huge smile. “You been losing teeth, Iggy?”

He nods and hops up and down. “Yeah, and Auntie Wren taught me all about the tooth fairy, and it’s so weird ‘cause she comes into your house when you’re asleep.” He shudders. “I don’t really like that because it makes me feel like I’m not a good guardian if I don’t notice a fairy in my house. Buuuut, she brings me money every time I lose a tooth.”

“Well,” I say sagely, “if there was truly anything to worry about, your dad would notice, right?”

“Yeah.” Iggy smiles over at his father. “He keeps us safe, so that’s why I don’t worry about fairies too much. Besides, we don’t even have any fairies who live in Ever. Just pixies. And Miriam would definitely know if there were other pixies sneaking into our house.”

Alo smiles softly, staring at his adorable son.

The next three hours pass in a blur. Alo and Iggy are my first appointment. When I’m nearly done with them, Herschel from Herschel’s Fine Dining comes by. He sits elegantly, and his portrait goes by quickly. After that is Wren Hector, Ever’s resident green witch. She brings a tiny plant and grows it right there at the table. For her portrait, I paint the vine wrapping around her arm. She’s wearing her “Fat and Fabulous” tee, and I make sure to include that too. I love her wonderful shirts.

My last appointment is Catherine. She sits in the chair and smiles at me. “You’re glowing, my friend.”

I can’t help the matching smile on my face. “I’m having the time of my life, Catherine, truly.”

Gray eyes move across the room. To Betmal, I’d bet. He’s been drinking coffee and watching me this entire time, and I don’t think anything could be more delicious than that.

Catherine smirks, and when I direct her to hold that look, she does, for the better part of forty minutes. Painting her comes easily, and by the time I’m putting the finishing touches on it, my brain goes sated and blissfully blank. Catherine rises from her chair, and Betmal joins her to look as I add a bit of white to her wispy, elegant waves.

“Marvelous,” Catherine murmurs. “You have such talent, Amatheia. I’m so thrilled to see you putting it to good use. What a wonderful project to be part of.” She turns to Betmal. “Thank you for asking me to join in, old friend.”

He takes her hand and lifts it to his lips, placing a chaste kiss on the back. “Of course, darling. It wouldn’t be an Ever welcome packet without you in it.”

Catherine smiles at him and then me. “Well, once you’re done with that portrait, I’d love to buy the actual painting from you to hang in the Annabelle. I think she’ll love it. She’s always nudging me to paint myself, but I’ve never felt inspired to. I could easily hang more of your work in the Inn, though.”

“It’s yours,” I say, gesturing to Betmal. “As soon as he’s done what he needs to do.”

Movement behind Catherine draws my eye. Shades of pink and coral appear at her back. My mouth drops open as Catherine spins, revealing Thatraeia in human form, standing just behind her.

My cousin’s coral eyes flick between Catherine, Betmal and me as she nips at her lip, playing with the hem of her shirt.

Betmal shifts from one foot to the other, bringing his body closer to mine. Catherine looks between us and says her goodbyes, leaving Betmal and me standing there, staring at Thatraeia in surprise.

He’s across the room in a moment, his expression fiercely concerned. “What’s wrong?”

“And wh—what are you doing here?” I can barely manage the words as her gaze moves to Betmal. Her lashes flutter against pink skin, and she drops her eyes before looking back up at me.

“Has Caralorn figured out where I went? I’m not due at any events until tomorrow.”

She shakes her head. “No, nothing like that. Can we talk for a minute, Ama?”

Betmal brings his lips to my cheek, kissing me lightly. “I’ll give you a moment, ma siréne, but I’m here if you need me.” He nods at Thatraeia then stalks across Higher Grounds to his table, dropping into his seat and focusing on an open sketchbook.

Thatraeia watches him go, and once he seems oblivious to us, she looks at me. “Ama, I just…I had to see what you were doing that was so important that you’d really, really talk about leaving the lake. I heard you told Father you’d even disappear, if he wanted you to.” She glances at the stack of paintings propped against the wall behind my table. “Is this it? Is this worth everything you’re doing?”

I nod and wave at my new prosthetic. “It is. And this. Cousin, all of these things are part of me, part of the life I want for myself. I’m so happy when I’m here, and when I return to the merkingdom, the only good thing is you.”

She blushes, her cheeks going scarlet as she eyes my paintings. “Would you show me, Ama? I want to understand. I always sort of thought you were joking about leaving, but lately you seem so determined, and I just…I don’t understand. I want to, though. I’d like to know more about this world.”

Love for my baby cousin wells hard in my chest, and I pull her into my arms, squeezing her tight. “Thank you for coming here,” I whisper into her ear. “It means the world to me.”

She sniffles, wrapping her arms around my neck. “Love you too, Ama. Now show me what you’ve been working on before I get overwhelmed and start crying. I’m already nervous to be up here.”

Laughing, I pull away from her but grab her hand and drag her to the first painting. We go through them all, and I tell her stories about every monster. Who they are to Ever and why they were chosen for portraits for the welcome book. She’s particularly fascinated by Wren and the vine wrapping around the human witch’s forearm.

Thatraeia slips her hand into mine, twining our fingers together as she looks up at me with a thoughtful smile. “Your work is beautiful, Ama. I never realized…”

Betmal appears by my side, and Thatraeia jolts a little, squeezing my hand tightly.

“Apologies, darling,” he croons, smiling at my cousin before looking at me. “Ama, what do you think about inviting your cousin to dinner with us this evening? I put a coq au vin in the oven before I left, and there will be plenty of food.”

I look at him, and in that moment, I know I’ve fallen in love. Nobody’s ever had my back like Betmal does, and despite our earlier tease about what tonight could be, he sees how important this is, winning Thatraeia over.

Pulling her close, I give her a reassuring look. “How about it, Cousin? We’d love for you to join us.”

She nips at the edge of her thumb. “Well, I don’t know. I need to get back to?—”

“The Sea Julienne will be there in a few hours.” I tickle her side. “Come on. The art is just a part of why I love being up here.” I look at Betmal, emotion welling inside me. “But he’s the rest.”

Betmal’s smile is blindingly gorgeous. He turns that radiance on Thatraeia. “Not to mention, sweet girl, we were planning to discuss how to handle your father. I would love to include you in that, if you like.”

Thatraeia’s expression morphs into something a teeny bit devilish, the corners of her mouth turning up. I can almost see the fullness of her personality, no matter how much Caralorn has tried to crush it over the years.

“Deal,” she says, the smile growing bigger. “I don’t know how you’re going to pull off a miracle, but I’d like to know.”

Betmal grabs her hand and mine. “Excellent. Let’s go, my sweets. I’ll feed you, and then we will scheme.”

“I love it,” I murmur, brushing my cheek against his.

And I love you. The words are on the tip of my tongue.