Page 6 of The Tides of March (Moon Murder Mysteries)

Five

D espite spending nearly the entirety of his adult life as a student and working at Georgetown, the campus felt like a foreign land when Tony finally returned to work the following Monday. The few faculty members he crossed paths with welcomed Tony back with brief, but cheerful hugs and high fives and several students said they were glad to see him.

But Tony couldn’t help noticing the disappointed looks that passed over most of his students’ faces when he entered the lecture hall and the hopeful glances whenever the door opened.

“Good morning. It looks like we’re discussing how human evidence is collected and the importance of repatriation,” Tony began and turned down the lights and pressed the spacebar on his laptop, beginning the slide show.

He’d written this module years ago as a TA and had lost count of how many times he’d presented it. Tony wasn’t at all surprised when his mind drifted away from the lesson, back to Pooles Island. The terrible aching in his gut and the steady nausea were constant reminders but Tony had woken up in the middle of the night, soaked in sweat, after a terrible nightmare about Ronan so the merrow was even more of a distraction than usual.

In his dream, Ronan was fighting a tentacled, one-eyed giant and was nearly defeated by the beast. Visions of Ronan, battered and welt-covered as he crawled over a dune haunted Tony as he discussed methods of evidence collection. A young woman in the front raised her hand and Tony was on autopilot as he answered, just tuned in enough to seem competent.

Tony didn’t know if it was a relapse from the first attack or if Ronan was actually in trouble, but he hoped the stubborn merrow had enough sense to call someone if he was. As mad as Tony was about how things had ended between them, he didn’t want Ronan to come to any actual harm. And despite the sudden and unexpected betrayal, Tony still missed Ronan and longed to be back in the cottage with Myrtle and the gang.

Could he get more pathetic or desperate?

He hadn’t told anyone about how Ronan had finally healed him or the incredible bond that had grown between them during Tony’s recovery. Truthfully, Tony didn’t know how without feeling tremendous loss and sadness. He was still so confused and hurt by Ronan’s callous rejection after everything they had shared.

Nox and Merlin would probably say that was to be expected from a merrow man, but that wasn’t Tony’s experience, prior to that last morning. Ronan was a curmudgeon and often taciturn, but he had a tender, loyal, sensitive side. And he was a brilliant artist! Tony had been blown away when he discovered that the many watercolors around the cottage had been painted by Ronan.

Tony had raved at the gloomy, moody seascapes and action-filled scenes of ships and lighthouses amidst stormy seas. But Ronan had merely blushed and shrugged off the praise.

“I’ve had more than a hundred years and nothin’ better to do than practice a skill or two,” he had grumbled.

He was also an excellent carpenter and cook and grew herbs and vegetables in a small greenhouse he had built behind the cottage. Ronan also kept chickens and bees and cared for the island’s ancient peach trees. There was an entire shelf of peach preserves and butters under the stairs and Tony craved one of Ronan’s scones, warm and dripping with a generous glob of spicy peach butter, and a hot cup of tea. He longed to curl up with Myrtle and a book, a soft record crackling soothingly as Ronan prepared one of his stews.

Thanks to magick, Tony’s time on the island was like living in the shire of a fantasy novel. There were monsters and mermaids, but Ronan’s cottage had been a peaceful haven where Tony finally felt wanted. Someone other than his mother thought Tony was special and he made more sense there.

Instead of being bored and getting cabin fever, Tony had gained a deeper insight into his own spiritual, emotional, and sexual identity. With Ronan, Tony had been more open and honest than he had with any friend or partner and he often wondered if that was because of the enchantment or if something deeper had connected them.

Tony started a video on cave excavations in France and went to his seat, turning it toward the screen so no one would notice if he cried or closed his eyes.

Tony couldn’t risk a power nap since he had just under fifteen minutes, but he settled into one of his fondest moments at the cottage. It was when he first began to suspect that Ronan liked him and when Tony started to realize he had a potent attraction to grumpy merrows.

A perfectly comfortable, yet ordinary evening had been transformed by a perfectly innocent line of inquiry. They had dined on a hearty chicken and mushroom stew with fluffy, buttery biscuits. Tony had two biscuits with his stew and two with peach jelly for dessert. He was stuffed and drowsy, entranced by the flames in the fireplace and the steady rocking of Ronan’s chair as he smoked his pipe.

It was too early to go to sleep so Tony gave himself a hard shake and squinted curiously at Ronan. “There are some things I’ve been wondering,” he began, then laughed at Ronan’s arched, wary brow. “About merrows. Nox told me a lot and I’ve learned more since I’ve been here, but you’re nothing like the pictures and there isn’t much lore about you. Especially the merrow men.”

“Suppose it wouldn’ do much harm…” Ronan bowed his head, gesturing for Tony to continue.

“Are all the merrow seals, like you? And can you literally turn into a seal?”

“No. The women look more like the pictures ye would have come across as they were seen more by sailors. They’ve got scales and gills and long tails when they wanna swim. The men are often like seals and the larger of our kind are like manatees but we rarely show ourselves like that.”

“Do the women shift like the men?”

“Aye,” Ronan said, nodding. “When they wanna mate with a human man and when they’re havin’ their bairn.”

“Fascinating!” Tony wasn’t sleepy anymore. “Do they live as long as the merrow men?”

“They used to. It’s easier to lure human men, because the world is smaller and there are so many more of them. But merrow women have to spend more time in the world of humans and their men are far more dangerous than they used to be.”

Tony hummed heavily in agreement. “They are, unfortunately. Why do they risk it? Why don’t they go back to the merrow men?” he asked but Ronan shook his head quickly.

“They crave human men and can’t get enough of them. Mating with a human nourishes them and they get love drunk.”

“Oh my!” Tony said, widening his eyes. “What happens to the human man?”

Ronan chuckled as he puffed on his cigar. “She’ll wear him out, in more ways than one. How obsessed he becomes depends on how thick the enchantment is, but they’ll be as busy as bunny rabbits.”

“That doesn’t sound too bad,” Tony mused, earning an eye roll from Ronan.

“Until one of them ends it, usually the merrow lass because a new lover has caught her eye. Only she can break the spell but she usually won’ because it doesn’ suit her,” he explained. “Pinin’ and heartache are even more intoxicatin’ to them, the heartless harpies.”

“Do they ever go after women? Are there queer merrow?” Tony asked and found that he was blushing. His mind had already jumped ahead.

“Aye, they do… But from what I’m told, the merrow women live in pairs or small groups and carry on with each other when they’re not tormentin’ human men.”

“I see! Go, ladies!” Tony pumped his fist in solidarity. “What about the merrow men? Can they be queer too?”

There was a long pause before Ronan finally nodded. “We can’t afford to be picky, but we crave human men just as powerfully as our women do.”

“Oh.” Tony fell back against the pillows and his brow furrowed as he carefully considered his next questions. “I thought merrow men despised human men.”

“We do. Most of them,” Ronan amended with a nervous glance at Tony. “We’re sworn to provide ye aid and comfort because our women forsake us and used to wreak havoc on navies.”

“That does seem pretty unfair,” Tony said, then asked a question that had come to wreak havoc on his thoughts and fantasies. “So what’s it like when you’re around a human man?”

“Well…” Ronan took a long drag from his pipe, staring into the fire. “I’m not sure how to put it into words. But I could show ye if I cooked a thick, juicy steak and shut one of the dogs in here with it.”

Tony imagined a starving, salivating Ronan looming over him and was grateful for the quilts covering his lap. “And that’s what it’s like when you’re here with me?” he asked weakly, making Ronan laugh in earnest.

The dry, wheezing rumble surprised Tony and made him smile as Ronan set down his pipe and rose. “Lad, if ye only knew how many cold swims I’ve needed since ye landed here. I’m not that fond of walking after dark,” he confided as he headed for the door, whistling to alert the pack. “And on that note, I’ll be back in an hour or two. Don’ wait up.”

“Okay.” Tony waved weakly as Ronan threw open the door and headed out without a coat or his scarf. “I won’t,” he mumbled woodenly but Tony had stayed up well after Ronan returned.

Tony had rolled so his back was to the fire and pretended he was asleep, too confused by his own reaction to Ronan’s revelation to attempt more small talk. He had dated a man and had hot conference hookups with two men, one was trans. For Tony, sex was about connecting with what was inside a person, regardless of how they identified or whether they had a penis or not.

He certainly didn’t care about Ronan’s face, although Tony found that he was used to it and had grown to like several of its features. Ronan had the most beautiful blue gray eyes that reminded Tony of the island’s stormy mornings. He thought it was almost adorable when Ronan’s magnificent nose scrunched and he had the most expressive brows. They were thick and bushy and conveyed enough on their own, often making up for Ronan’s meager replies.

While he was terse and occasionally rude, Ronan was always gentle and put Tony’s needs first. He would insist it was his duty as a merrow or that he had nothing better to do, but Tony no longer believed that and found that he liked that too. Tony’s mother was the only one who had ever doted on him and he felt a funny tickle when he imagined being well enough to repay Ronan’s kindness.

And not just with sex. Tony was itching to raid Ronan’s greenhouse and cook the foods he associated with love and nurturing. Ronan kept the cottage free of dust and clutter and everything was in good condition, but his bookshelves were overflowing and in need of arranging. There was also the matter of Ronan’s unruly hair and unkempt beard. It was obvious that Ronan was making an attempt to keep them clean and braided, but a trim and a little shaping would do wonders.

Not that Tony had minded having a big, bearded viking nurse him back to health. Or a pirate... Ronan often swore like one. And everything about Ronan was large. Tony was fascinated by their size difference and would find silly excuses to chat while Ronan was bathing in order to steal quick peeks. Ronan was around 7 feet tall, by Tony’s estimation, with thick, hairy limbs like tree trunks. He was barrel-chested and had a full, firm, round ass that was dusted with the same thick, dark auburn hair as the rest of him.

Despite taking regular dips in the sea, Ronan still filled the tub with cold water every other night and scrubbed himself from head to toe with Castile soap “to keep the critters away.” Ronan would find any excuse to fill the tub and Tony suspected the sound and reflection of the water off the cottage’s walls and ceiling comforted the merrow. It was decadent for Tony, whenever Ronan moved the tub closer to the fire and filled it with steaming water, then insisted he soak and drink tea or warmed, honeyed wine as he read.

If Tony could have designed his ideal spa getaway, it would look a lot like an isolated beach cottage, filled with books, beautiful art, and lots of dogs. He’d eat hearty, homey foods and drink plenty of tea and wine. And he’d request a grumpy hunk to keep him company, making Tony wonder if they were taking full advantage of the situation.

He had eventually nodded off and Tony was far more daring in his dreams, taunting Ronan as he bathed with filthy demonstrations and helping him towel off. Thankfully, anything was possible in dreams because Tony didn’t think he could possibly swallow every inch of Ronan. That part did not appear to be human. It was very long, like a seal’s, and appeared rather heavy. After Ronan’s “thick juicy steak” comment, Tony was even more curious about what sex with a merrow would be like.

As fate would have it, Tony didn’t have much longer to wait. But the clapping of his students alerted Tony that the film had ended and that it was time to return to the present. He blinked back tears and discreetly adjusted the front of his trousers while the room was still dark, waiting for the pain in his chest and the ominous ache in his gut to recede.

There was also a searing twinge in his side and Tony held on tight to the armrests until it passed, cursing Ronan for whatever he had done to them before rising. “Alright, it’s almost time to go. Don’t forget to check the syllabus for this week’s assignment. There will be questions and you need to post in the discussion forum about the topics I posted,” he said but Tony was drowned out by the sounds of books and binders closing and bags zipping as schedules and plans were discussed. “See you all on Wednesday,” Tony called, receiving only a few half-hearted waves.

The door slammed behind the last student, leaving Tony alone with his thoughts and weakened after a rough tumble down memory lane. “Not that you really care,” he murmured at the empty desks. “Do I?” Once again, Tony wondered if he actually loved teaching anthropology or if he had been drawn to the classroom because of Nox.

He now understood that his passion for books and learning about history was because of his Epona ancestors and a desire to know more of his own backstory. Instead of finding clarity and closure in the truth, Tony felt more like an outsider after his time on Pooles Island. He knew himself so much better now, but Tony made so much less sense in his old life.

“Thanks for nothing, Ronan,” he said sadly.

In the aftermath of his expulsion from Pooles Island and return to reality, it felt like Ronan had left Tony hanging and vulnerable in a world he no longer fit in.