Page 5 of The Tides of March (Moon Murder Mysteries)

Four

A fter three days of playing nurse and numerous cups of tea, Ronan was encouraged by Tony’s progress. The patient was still too weak to do more than sit up on his own and feed himself, but Tony’s spirits were higher, judging from his constant chatter and cheeky smiles.

Those pesky smiles were like flies, flitting about the cottage and tickling Ronan’s cheeks and lips as he went about his routine. Tony wasn’t like any of the men Ronan had met on his travels and in his years at Pooles Island. Instead of staring or awkwardly pretending Ronan wasn’t a hideous freak, Tony wanted to know everything about life as a merrow.

Unfortunately, there wasn’t much to tell because Ronan didn’t know any others, aside from his mother, and had spent most of his life in seclusion. That was the way of it for most merrow men. They weren’t born ugly, but as they aged, their looks made them repulsive to their mothers and other merrow women so they were eventually rejected and left to fend for themselves.

With only so many isolated islands to inhabit, most merrow men took to the seas and became pirates and sailors, navigating the world’s oceans with a small crew or on their own. Being particularly ugly and extra unsociable, Ronan had settled on Pooles Island and preferred keeping company with dogs, instead of other seamen. His pack had grown to twelve dogs, of various breeds and sizes, thanks to Captain Sheila Winston.

Winston’s duties only brought her to the island once or twice a year, but she made a trip whenever she came across a stray in need of a home. Her boat was one of the few Ronan recognized and allowed to pass safely to Pooles, but Winston’s welcome only lasted about as long as it took Ronan to get acquainted with his new pup. He wanted nothing to do with any human and had no business with the world of men, beyond Pooles Island.

But Ronan had strict rules for the canine occupants on his island. And Tony had a habit of breaking the #1 rule whenever Ronan left the cottage.

“Off the bed, Myrtle,” Ronan growled as he let himself in from a wet, windy walk with the rest of the pack.

“Let her stay!” Tony hugged the Collie mix’s neck as they both stared at Ronan with big, brown eyes. The old girl was getting too stiff and slow to join them on their walks around the island these days so she often stayed behind to mind the cottage.

“Down, Myrtle. Ye know better,” Ronan said, snapping his fingers and pointing at her quilt by the fire while the rest of the pack found places to curl up. She grumbled as she rose on shaking legs and gingerly eased off the bed, glaring at Ronan as she sulked over to her quilt. “Don’ look at me like that or ye’ll be sleepin’ outside,” he replied gruffly, bluffing because Myrtle was Ronan’s best girl. She’d been with him the longest and he let her get away with sniffing at his plate and occasionally tossed her a morsel when the others weren’t paying attention.

“She was keeping me company. You guys were gone for a while,” Tony noted with a glance at the window. “Was starting to worry that you got lost.”

That earned a dry snort from Ronan as he left his coat on the hook and removed his wet, sandy boots. “No chance of that. Found something strange washed up on the beach and did a little investigating, is all,” he said as he headed for his chair by the fireplace. He’d taken to sleeping there after Tony’s arrival but Ronan didn’t consider it a hardship. He had a nice view of the bed and Tony preferred being naked when he slept. Tony was also a restless sleeper and Ronan never tired of watching him twist and turn and stretch.

Ronan regretted that he wasn’t better at painting bodies. He’d never cared about them before and had painted countless seascapes, shores, and ships, but nothing had enthralled Ronan like the curve of Tony’s spine and the dimples on his lower back, just above his asscheeks. He was a masterpiece and Ronan wished he could paint Tony, but he’d hidden his easel and brushes, too embarrassed to admit he dabbled with watercolors to pass the time.

“Strange? Like what?” Tony asked. “Wasn’t another unconscious anthropology professor, was it?” he teased and Ronan chuckled.

“Nah. Woulda pushed him back out to sea and went about my day. One of ye’s enough,” he said, adding more wood to the fire. Ronan rarely lit a fire during the day because he liked the cottage cold. He only kept wood on hand to warm the dogs at night and when the weather turned. But he was glad for the heat and held his hands up to the flames, chilled by what he had found.

The dogs had spotted the dead seal first and had alerted Ronan to its presence, circling it and keening as they sniffed the lifeless creature. Ronan had called them off, saddened but unconcerned until he noticed that the seal had been gutted. Several organs had been removed before it had been dumped on the beach, instead of carried to the island by the tide.

Why hadn’t Ronan heard or sensed a ship in his waters? Ronan had claimed and placed an enchantment on the island and Lucas MacIlwraith had warded it decades ago. Nothing happened on Pooles without Ronan’s knowledge or blessing, but someone or something had left a seal on his beach. Only one other creature had dared trespass and Ronan’s instincts warned that the seal was somehow connected to the evil, undead child that had attacked him prior to Tony’s arrival.

“You seem worried,” Tony said, shaking Ronan from his thoughts and making him grin. It had only been a few days but Tony was already reading Ronan’s thoughts and meddling in his business.

“And ye must be bored, if yer worryin’ about me. Let me get ye another book, professor.”

Ronan went to the shelf by the stairs to select a new book to keep Tony occupied. Thankfully, he had plenty. The shelves in the small loft upstairs were stuffed with books, thanks to Howard Sherwood. Once a month, the elderly witch and bookstore owner sent a case of books, candles, and other useful odds and ends in exchange for honey and peaches. Ronan had several hives and traded jars of honey, comb, preserves, and crates of peaches from the island’s many ancient trees to support himself throughout the years.

He was a voracious reader—mostly classics, poetry, and history books—but Ronan was grateful for a way to keep Tony entertained and quiet. His nonstop questions could make Ronan weary, he wasn’t used to so much talking. But Ronan cast a nervous look at the loft as he considered the shelves. That was where he did most of his paintings and Tony had yet to ask what was up there.

“Think I can go outside later?” Tony asked from the bed, staring longingly out the window.

Ronan shrugged, turning to check the view. “Dunno. It’s a bit brisk out there for ye this mornin’, but I’ll carry ye out if the sun should show itself today.”

“Thanks!” Tony replied, cheerful again as he smoothed the covers over his lap.

The cottage was cramped and dark so Ronan carried Tony outside whenever the weather cleared, because there was no better medicine for a sick human than sunshine and fresh air. Tony was delightfully easy to please and could happily sit for hours on a blanket in the sun with a book and a few dogs at his side, much to Ronan’s surprise. He had never had to nurse a human back to health, but Ronan had expected the experience to be far more inconvenient and irritating.

Most humans were an inconvenience when they arrived on Ronan’s island and were endlessly irritating. They were often arrogant, assuming they were the most important species and that they were welcome wherever they went. Even Winston tended to forget the tenuousness of her welcome and occasionally arrived without a dog offering.

Ronan recalled the “offering” he had discovered on his walk and stifled a shudder. He told himself it was a bizarre prank or ritual as he buried the seal, and that it had nothing to do with him. It had to be a coincidence that it was a seal. Only a very small handful of souls knew what Ronan was or that there was a merrow inhabiting Pooles Island.

But how it arrived without his knowledge troubled Ronan the most. Was it connected to the monstrous child that had attacked him, as Ronan’s instincts warned? That, too, had appeared suddenly and without warning. Or, had Ronan been so distracted by his new guest that he hadn’t noticed that a boat had landed? Both options were troubling and Ronan wondered if all three events were connected—the evil child entity, Tony’s arrival, and the dead seal—and if there would be consequences.

“Actually, it might be best if we stayed inside today. Looks like the weather will only get worse,” he said, selecting a plant guide and a collection of nature poems. If he couldn’t take Tony outside, he could at least bring nature to Tony.

“Nice!” Tony said when he was handed the books. He opened the plant guide to the index and his lips twisted as he searched. “Maybe there’s a recipe in here for undoing a merrow’s enchantment.” He winked at Ronan, making his stomach tickle like it was full of flies.

Ronan blinked back at Tony, waiting for the sensation and the urge to giggle to pass. “I told ye, there ain’t no potion or spell for it. The enchantment’s been broken and it’ll wear off with time,” he predicted.

That was Ronan’s best guess, if he was being honest. His mother had spoken about ensnaring human men and Ronan had read several accounts, but all had been a little hazy when it came to the lifting of enchantments.

“Not that I’m in a hurry to go back,” Tony confided as his smile and his mood faded. He looked toward the window again and a sad sigh wafted from him.

“Why not?”

Tony shook his head faintly, distant as he stared. “What’s there to go back to? It looks like everyone I loved has been lying to me and I don’t think I’m missed. In fact, my students and the school are probably glad that Nox is covering my classes. I’ll never be half the speaker he is.”

“Aye, he’s a pretty slick speaker, that one,” Ronan recalled and rolled his eyes. “Why’d ye care about the rest of ‘em, if that’s what ye love to do?” He didn’t know much about anthropology or universities, but Ronan thought Lennox MacIlwraith was a slick shit and too cocky for his own good. And he thought that Tony was just as clever and learned enough to teach whatever the university wanted the kids to know. “Other people’s lies aren’t yer burden either, lad.”

“Normally, I’d agree, but it’s hard not to question everything I know about myself when a lot of those lies were about me.”

“Still not yer problem as far I can tell,” Ronan replied with a shrug. “If ye worked hard to get there and that’s where yer heart’s at, why’d ye care?”

“Not sure my heart’s still there,” Tony confided in a whisper, wincing at Ronan. “I’ve always loved history and learning and I felt drawn to Nox when I was a student. I thought it was fate telling me to be an anthropology professor, but it was this other thing that really didn’t have anything to do with me. It was Nox and my secret Epona ancestors drawing us together,” he said as he held up his hands cluelessly.

“Possibly…” Ronan conceded. “That don’ mean that fate didn’ want ye to be a professor too,” he suggested, making Tony smile.

“I think I’d be a lot better at it, if that was the case. But I still can’t get past the fact that my mom might have known too and didn’t tell me. She’s always been my best friend and we tell each other everything.”

Ronan made a thoughtful sound. “Has it ever occurred to ye that there were more important reasons not to?”

“Um…” Tony’s head cocked and his brow furrowed. “My mom might have lied to me about my own identity and one of my best friends was hiding that he was a murderer and the other is a demigod. That’s not the kind of shit you hide from people you care about.”

“Aye, I might, if I had a good reason,” Ronan countered. “And I might not want to know about the murderin’.”

Tony nodded quickly. “You would if you were being manipulated and unwittingly aided in said murdering,” he argued but Ronan gave him a flat look.

“Why do I get the feelin’ yer blamin’ yerself for a lot of things that were out of yer control?”

“That’s a distinct possibility,” Tony said sheepishly, unleashing another pesky smile that would pester Ronan for the rest of the afternoon. “And another reason why I’m not in a hurry to go back. I was blind to a lot of things and easily manipulated. I’m not sure if that’s a good enough excuse or if it means I need to grow up and harden my heart so I can’t be used and hurt so easily.”

“There ain’t nothin’ wrong with yer heart and the sooner ye figure that out, the better,” Ronan told him, shaking his head. “This ain’t a resort and I don’ actually enjoy playin’ nurse,” he lied as he went back to his chair. He stretched and crossed his legs, groaning as he rested his chin on his chest. “Miss sleepin’ in me own bed too. This ol’ body isn’t as forgivin’ as it used to be.”

“We could switch! I wouldn’t mind and I feel terrible, kicking you out of your own bed,” Tony said but Ronan waved it off.

“I’ll be fine and all that matters is ye get yer rest or I’ll never be rid of ye.”

“We could share.” Tony patted the mattress next to him, wiggling his brows. “It’ll be cramped and I might end up spooning with you, but I wouldn’t mind.”

Another shudder passed through Ronan at Tony’s words. But this time, it was accompanied by a heady warmth that pooled in his core and made him hungry. “I’ll pass,” Ronan said gruffly as he rose and went to get his coat off the hook.

He was suddenly too warm and it was getting harder to breathe inside the cottage. All Ronan could smell was Tony’s alluring scent and it was dangerous, inviting a merrow into your bed. That was like inviting a vampire to cross your threshold and could have far more serious implications if Ronan accepted.

“Where are you going? You just said it was getting worse out,” Tony complained but Ronan was considering a dip in the sea to cool himself off.

“Think I heard somethin’ outside and I need some fresh air. Let’s go,” Ronan said and gave a quick whistle, calling the dogs to attention. All but Myrtle were keen for another outing and Ronan suspected that she’d be back on the bed with Tony as soon as his back was turned.

“Fresh air?” Tony looked skeptical.

“Mind yer business and enjoy yer books. Want me to put on a record?” Ronan offered, gesturing at the old Emerson record player.

“No. I want to be able to hear if a sea monster gets you,” Tony said and stuck his tongue out at Ronan.

“I’ll tell him ye said hello. Be back soon.”

With that, Ronan escaped the cottage and set out for another long walk. He needed to clear his head and forget Tony’s offer. It was hard enough, controlling his merrow impulses from across the room, but Ronan felt weak every time he touched the beautiful younger man. The desire to claim Tony and bind their souls would be too intense if Ronan spent even a hour that close to him, let alone an entire night sharing a bed.

Ronan had never mated with another being before, but he had been warned about the consequences. And he knew his own heart and that it welcomed trespassers just as kindly as Ronan did to his island.

“Yer meant to heal him and send him on his way,” Ronan scolded himself. “Don’ go lookin’ for trouble or heartache and they won’ find ye.”