Page 46 of Sea of Evil and Desire (The Deep Saga #1)

44

Morgana

“W ine?” I smiled nervously, wondering why I was suddenly so awkward as I escorted Finn into our small kitchen. I was acutely aware of the vulgar mustard linoleum floor and stained white walls. This guy lived in a palace.

Granddad had left the fire burning, and the place was toasty. Finn searched the cupboards for glasses as I opened a dusty bottle of pinot noir my grandmother had bought in France. The blanket was still wrapped around his shoulders, and I watched him move, part of me hoping it would slip. I busied myself with the cork as he turned around and placed two glass goblets on the table.

Once the wine was poured, Finn’s dark eyes were on me again. They were serious, and I forgot all about my shabby kitchen when I met his gaze.

“So tell me what you know of my mother,” he said as he slid into one of the rickety wooden chairs beside me. “Iona left our kingdom just before her death. I’ve always wondered if she knew something.”

He turned his chair to face me, and the closeness of our knees sent a ripple through me. The wool throw still covered most of him, but I could see the tattoos adorning his chest between its folds. Heat rose in my cheeks, and I focused on the patterns at the lacy edge of the tablecloth as I began telling him about what I’d read in the diary.

As I recounted my grandmother’s story, my eyes returned to the space on the floor where I knew they had found her. What would she think if she could see me now, in her kitchen with Abalone’s son? I omitted the part where she’d found more of the prophecy and its connection to me. She hadn’t been sure she could trust the Mer, and now I wasn’t sure I could trust Finn.

When I finished, I eyed him keenly, waiting for a response, but he seemed lost in contemplation. So I continued telling him about Jackie and Donahue reporting to Taranis, who had an army of thirty thousand Drowned men.

Finally, Finn spoke. “Yes, I knew the Drowned were rallying for Taranis, and that he possessed the powers of Manannán’s shadow.” He rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “I also knew someone was creating unearthly storms, which I suspected was being used as a tool for building an army. What is new to me is the love affair between my mother and Taranis. I don’t think it would be wise to tell my father this . . .” His eyebrows were knotted in thought.

“Donahue said the Mer tried to stop the storms. That was you ?” My chair creaked as I leaned my elbows on the table and searched Finn’s face. My blanket had fallen from my shoulders, my nakedness now only covered by the damp fur coat.

“Why do you think I was on land? No, I didn’t just come here to watch you, although it has been enjoyable.” His eyes sparkled. “I did my research and tortured my suspects.” He paused, mouth twitching. “It led me to believe Taranis was using an on-land device to create the storms, something large enough to carry magic and distribute it across the sea. Do you see where I’m headed?”

“The Ferris wheel!” I’d seen Finn at its base the day the ground around it trembled.

“It’s positioned perfectly on the cliff face. I suspect it’s been an object of his since it stopped working three years ago, but with the curse, my magic wasn’t strong enough to destroy it.” He rubbed the back of his neck, and the blanket slipped entirely from his right side, bunching around his hips.

I choked on my wine as heat licked the space between my thighs. What was wrong with me? This man was in my veins, consuming my body like wildfire. The corner of Finn’s mouth twitched upward, and I busied myself smoothing the hem of the tablecloth.

Focus, Morgana.

“I don’t understand. Edward said the Drowned can’t return to land. If that’s the case, how are they moving the wheel?” My brow furrowed as I continued to survey Finn.

“They are using Mer blood—from the murders with royal lineage. It allows them to walk on land and harness the ocean’s might with the wheel.” The muscles in Finn’s tattooed chest flexed.

“The silver markings on the wheel, you think that was blood?” A chill skittered its way down my spine, and I pulled the folds of my damp fur coat tighter.

So that was why Donahue and Jackie had been decaying. They were paying the price for using the Mer blood. The kitchen seemed suddenly darker.

“What would have happened to Donahue and Jackie if they hadn’t been killed and kept using the blood?” I wrapped my arms around myself to keep from shivering. I knew I should change into warm clothes, but I was hooked on Finn’s tale.

“They would have turned rabid and decayed until, eventually, the Garden would have claimed them.” Finn’s black brows were rigid, and his shoulders hunched.

“What I don’t understand is why Taranis needed Donahue and Jackie. Couldn’t he turn the wheel on his own if he’s got the powers of the Mer and Manannán?” I tilted my head in thought.

“He will be able to soon. Taranis was always weak.” Finn blew out a long breath. “He needs more drownings to help him regain Manannán’s full power—a strength sucked from their souls.”

I shuddered. “The wheel . . . we need to stop him before more people die.” My grandfather was no longer safe at sea.

“I might need my father’s help, but the thought of asking him fills me with loathing.” Finn exhaled, swilling his wine and gazing out the dark window, his features etched with concern. “Both times we saw my uncle, he was in Manannán’s bodiless form—a shadow drawn from the ocean’s darkness. Wait till I see him in the flesh.” His hands balled into fists, and I remembered his beastly form, which had held me in Therme Skótos.

A longing consumed me to take his bunched fists and uncurl them, finger by finger. I shook the thoughts from my mind.

Finn took a sip of wine and leaned back in his chair. Then he sighed. “You may have noticed that my father . . .” He paused as if the words were hard to utter. “My father . . . is not quite himself.”

I thought about the king’s manic laugh and ferocious eyes.

“He is set on breaking the ancient curse before Manannán or another one of the Drowned does. My family has been bent on it for generations, searching for the lost part of the prophecy and a way to break the spell cast over our people.” Finn ran a hand through his dark curls. He looked tired. “He sent his own half-brother to search the deepest, darkest parts of the ocean, where the shadow of Manannán found him. Manannán has been trying to come back for years, grasping on to the bodies of animals, but none could sustain such power for long. Then, he found Taranis. My father’s fruitless search created his worst enemy. Now he has to live with that.”

A shiver ran down my spine as I recalled the shadow taking the shape of a horse sketched in Louisa’s book.

“So you don’t believe there is a prophecy, then?” I observed him, thinking about the part of my grandmother’s story I had kept to myself—the part where she had found more of the prophecy and believed it to name me.

“I like to stick to the facts, and the facts are that if there ever was a second half to the prophecy, my father and his father before him have never found it,” Finn said, taking another sip of wine. His eyes met mine, and his expression was earnest.

So he doesn’t know Taranis discovered more—or he’s hiding it.

“Prophecy or no, that doesn’t change the fact that Taranis killed my mother, and now he’s got an army,” he continued. His face fell into a frown.

“I—I think Taranis might have killed my grandmother as well.” My throat bobbed, and I looked at the space on the floor where they’d found her.

Finn leaned forward and tucked a strand of hair behind my ear. “I’m sorry,” he whispered.

The searing droplets of hot water felt so good as they cascaded over my body. I was glad to have discarded the coat and be washing away the bone-chilling cold of the deep in the steaming shower. There was only one at my grandparents’ house, and it was downstairs, so Finn was in the living room, awaiting his turn.

Mer Prince Aigéan was in the living room.

I shook my head at the sheer craziness of it all and ran my hands over my face and furless body. I was enjoying every moment of being human.

Even away from him, I couldn’t shake Finn from my mind. He wrapped himself around my thoughts like a silk ribbon from which I didn’t want to be released.

I pictured him shirtless, his torso glistening with sea spray, tattoos sprawling across his chest and right arm, and his dark eyes devouring me, leaving me breathless.

He had said he wanted me, that he couldn’t breathe without me. The thought caused me to dip my hand between my legs; the space there was already slippery. I couldn’t have him, and I wasn’t entirely sure if I could trust him, but I could have this.

I allowed myself to imagine what was underneath that blanket, where the V-line of his hips led to his emerald tail. I thought about what he would look like above me, propped up on those inked arms, and what expression he would wear as he slid inside.

I can’t fucking breathe without you. I bit my lip to keep my emotions in check as I slid my fingers in deep, gathering the wetness I found there and bringing them back out to caress just the right spot.

Let’s see what we have here . . . Teachie’s rasp as he’d plied apart my legs made it through my pleasure, and the building heat turned to nausea. No! I shook the images of the pirates from my head and thought again of Finn, his hands on my body. I let out a little gasp as I brought myself to a conclusion. My eyes rolled back in my head to images of him, and the pirates’ faces faded from my subconscious, replaced with oblivion.

“Good shower?” Finn smirked as I entered the living room.

He had stoked the fire, the wall heater was blaring, and the room was toasty. One of his arms was draped over the back of the tan leather couch. Chest now fully bare, he’d slung the blanket around his waist like a towel.

Did he hear me?

No, he couldn’t have—the bathroom was on the other side of the house. But it was so quiet. I could perceive the gentle hum of the heater. Did Mer have preternatural hearing like the faeries and vampires I’d read about in books?

He was still grinning as I combed my fingers through my wet hair. When I got dressed, I’d had two choices of pajamas: lacy or pink cotton. I’d gone with the cotton.

“If your hypnosis doesn’t work on me, how come you can shield me from your emotions?” I wondered aloud.

“I’ve been trained my entire life not to feel emotion.” Finn’s mouth thinned, and his gaze traveled somewhere else.

“Your turn.” I threw a fresh towel at his face, wanting to pull him back from whatever was haunting him. “I’ve put some of Granddad’s old pajamas out.”

He headed off to the shower, and a little while later, I was fluffing the pillows for Finn’s bed on the couch when he emerged in Granddad’s old nightgown.

“Seriously?” He raised his dark eyebrows at me.

The cotton nightgown fell to his ankles, making his feet look overly skinny. I could still see the faint blue and white stripes it had once been adorned with. The fabric was loose even on Finn’s broad frame, and the sleeves were wide.

I choked. There would be no more wondering what’s under that .

Finn brushed his damp hair from his face, and a spray of droplets found the shoulders of the nightgown.

“I can’t . . .” I laughed so hard I had to sit down on the couch.

He took a seat beside me in the ridiculous gown. Leaning forward, he let his fingers graze the top of my hand. We exchanged a stare for what felt like minutes as I bit back my sniggers. His eyes traced a path from my feet on the carpet to my ankles resting against the base of the leather couch, finally landing on my pink-cotton-pajama-clad body. The nightgown had bunched, revealing the bits of uneven skin at his wrist, but the tattoos cleverly covered each scar. I wanted to let him touch me like I’d just touched myself, to touch him back and find out who’d given him those terrible scars, but instead, I pulled my hand away.

“What about Princess Glacies?” I looked away from him, studying the wooden coffee table.

“We are a dying breed, you know.” His voice was quiet.

My gaze returned to his, finding a pained expression in his eyes as he stared past me. “We used to be great, long ago when we had access to our full power, but our people are dwindling.”

“B-but you’re immortal.” My brows furrowed as I surveyed his beautiful face, wondering how old he was.

“We have an extended lifespan, if we stay out of danger . . . But we can still die, and we still age—it just takes us much longer than humans. Our people cannot handle the pollution spreading through the water.” He shifted on the couch but kept his dark eyes on me. “My ancestors used to live for thousands of years were they not killed, but now the lesser folk are lucky if they make it to five hundred. Soon, there may not be any of us left. I have been promised to Princess Glacies all my life to unite the race and protect the realm.”

There was sadness etched into his features. It took all my strength not to cup his face in my hands and kiss him, but I couldn’t kiss him—I still wasn’t sure if I could trust him. And duty or not, he was still engaged.

“Then my father tasked me with learning about you. I am no stranger to magic, but you . . . you bewitched me.”

I swallowed. The leather couch was heating up beneath my thighs as his words cascaded over my body.

“Did your father tell you why he had you follow me?”

“He wanted to know whether or not you were a shifter. I wasn’t going to tell him anything, but I guess he knows now.” Finn’s expression shifted, his features tightening.

I searched his eyes, and I could only see sincerity. Perhaps he was telling the truth. Maybe he and his father didn’t know about the parts of the prophecy Taranis had found.

“How old are you really?” I eyed him thoughtfully.

His face split into a grin. “I guess you could say in human terms, I am 116 years old.”

“Seriously? You’re an old man!” I threw back my head and laughed.

Finn laughed, too. His black eyes crinkled at the sides, lips curling up to show his straight teeth. “You’re going to look this age for the next hundred years or so as well,” he said, curbing his laughter to devour my body with his gaze.

The heat rose in my cheeks and ears. “I’m sure you’ve met many girls in your hundred years. What is it about me? Midlife crisis?”

“These days, we Mer have our midlife crises at around two hundred years of age.” He grinned, then was silent momentarily, as if pondering what to say. “I’ve lived a lonely life doing what duty requires of me . . . sometimes on land, and sometimes under the sea. Don’t get me wrong, I’ve been with humans.” A faint smirk curved his lips at that. “But you’re not like anyone I’ve ever met. Normally, when I desire humans, I just . . . take them.”

“You hypnotize them?” I narrowed my eyes.

“No, but I don’t need to. They are drawn to me. Everything about me is alluring to humans—how I look, my voice, even my smell. This pull drags them in, their eyes turning glassy. But not with you. You remained unaffected.”

“What about Glacies?”

“We have an understanding.” He raked a hand through his hair. “Trust me when I say she has no attraction to me. She prefers women, and her heart is with a mermaid in the Kingdom of Okeanós, but she too has been bred to do her duty to the realm.”

I swallowed. “If you’d been able to hypnotize me that day at your house, would you have extracted the information, and then slept with me when I offered myself to you?” I shifted on the couch and pulled at the front of my pajama top. It was suddenly uncomfortably hot in this room.

“I might have.” His eyes glimmered.

“You’re a pig.” I rolled my eyes to hide the anxiety that clutched at my chest.

“I am just adhering to my nature.” He gave a nonchalant shrug. “In the Days of Gods, we bred with humans, even married them after we were granted the ability to walk on land. But the feud and the Shadow has made man our enemy . . . and it just so happens that this enemy goes weak for my face.” He angled his jawline toward me, a smirk playing on his lips.

“That’s why you’ve been so awkward and moody around me—because you have no idea how to court a human without hypnosis or allure, do you?” I huffed a laugh.

“I— Well, I think I’m doing alright.” He reached for my hand.

I withdrew mine, and he sighed. “I have spent my life torturing people on behalf of my kingdom.” His dark eyes burned into mine. “I find myself haunted by their cries, their pleas for mercy. Now you live in my mind, torturing me the same way I tortured all those poor fools. I beg you for mercy, but you won’t let me be.”

The fire made a faint crackling noise beside us, and I couldn’t sense his feelings.

I couldn’t sense his feelings.