Descending (The Rising Series) (18 page)

BOOK: Descending (The Rising Series)
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Kyros pushed his body up. “Gretchen, by the gods, you’re hurt.
I
hurt you.” His voice was thick with regret as he lifted his shaking hand and examined her injury. The first thing he noticed was the blood dripping off her fingers. Then he saw the gaping wound.

“What did you do? My blade
’s not that thick.”

“The blade isn’t, but the handle is.”

Kyros’s eyes widened in horror. “You pulled your hand…”

“I did what I had to do. I couldn’t pull th
e knife from the tree, so—” Her voice caught, tears sparkling on her cheeks.

“Oh baby. That must hurt.”

She gave a shaky nod. “Yeah. Probably about as much as your leg.”

Kyros looked down. He’d forgotten his injury. The knife was impaled in his leg so deep, only the handle was showing. He reached for it. Just as he pulled, Gretchen screamed, “Don’t pull it out.”

It made a wet sucking sound as he slid the blade out of his leg.

“Kyros!”

He examined the wound for a short moment. It was oozing blood, but it was nothing serious.

“You
should have let a doctor pull that out,” she said. “What if you had pierced an artery?”

Kyros shook his head
. “The knife was nowhere near the artery.”

“How do you know?”

“I know.”

He stood
and, despite feeling weak and injured, scooped her up off her feet. “I need to take you to a hospital.”

She shook her head at him. “No, no hospital. They’ll ask too many questions.”

“Gretchen, you need your wound tended.”

“And you don’t?
Straton. He could do it.”

Kyros pressed his lips together.

“He’s a doctor, isn’t he?” she asked.

“Of sorts
.”
Or rather—of Dagonians. Humans were…
A thought struck him, followed by many others—memories of what had transpired that night.

“You’re not human,” he blurted, jolting to a stop midstride.

Gretchen’s cheeks drained of color. “What are you talking about? Of course, I’m human. What do you think? That I come from another planet?”

“No
. You’re a daughter of the sea—a mermaid.”

“Kyros, do you know how crazy you sound? Do I look like I have a fish tail?”

“Of course you don’t have a fish tail. That
would
be crazy.” He looked toward the sea.

“Kyros, you’re an intelligent man. You can’t believe mermaids exist. You’ve had a hard time tonight
, with your headaches and all. And you blacked out for a while.

“I did not.”

“Yes, you… you were unconscious. After we got out of the car, you passed out. You looked like you were having vivid nightmares.”

“And how did you get your hand injured, and my leg. What happened there?”

“Oh, uh… well, you kind of went a little nuts before you passed out, which is why we should be getting
you
to a hospital.”

Kyros ignored her blatant lies. “While we’re
there, we can have them look at your hand.”

“What? No. I’m fine. Do you have any idea how much trouble you’d be in if I told a doctor what happened?”

“Perhaps I should tell them I was mind-controlled by one mermaid and saved by another. She was your mother, wasn’t she?”

“You
remember her?”

“No, but I remember you. Your voice saved me.”

“That doesn’t make me a mermaid.”

“Okay, so you’re
not
a mermaid.” Kyros shifted his weight off his injured leg. It was throbbing, but compared to the other pain he’d felt tonight, it was literally nothing. Still, perhaps he could use that excuse. “Listen, my leg is killing me. I just need to wash it out in the cool surf.”

“No way. You don’t want to get sand in it
. Besides, the ocean water is filled with microscopic creatures. They could cause an infection.”

“I’ve never had that problem before.”

“Do you get injured near the ocean often?”

“Baby, I
’ve only
ever
gotten injured in the ocean.” He looked down at his blood-soaked leg. “Until tonight. Your hand could use some fresh seawater to clean it out as well.”

“No way. Where did you get this ridiculous thinking?”

With Gretchen in his arms, he hobbled toward the water.

“Kyros, I don’t want to get in. I changed my mind. A trip to the hospital is exactly what I need.”

“Come on, just a quick dip. But…” He narrowed his eyes and looked her over. “This won’t work.” He sat her down and slipped his t-shirt over his head.

“You’ll need to put this on,” he said.

Gretchen’s eyes darted from the shirt, to his face, lingering on his bare chest, which he tightened to improve the view for her. She looked down at her own shirt.

“Why do I need your shirt?”

“For modesty. You’ll need to take off those shorts. You can’t be wearing them when we get into the water.”

“What? You think
…? I told you—I’m not getting in the water, and I’m not a mermaid!”

Without asking permission, he shoved his shirt over her head. When her head popped out the top, she was cursing. “You are crazy
—certifiably insane.”

His shirt was so long on her, the bottom of it touched her knees—perfect. When he reached to pull off her shorts, she screeched
, “You are not taking off my pants!” He ignored her and attempted to slip them off. She pounded on his chest with her good hand and shouted. “I’ll do it myself!”

Smirking,
he stepped away. Holding her injured hand against her chest, she used her other hand to unbutton and yank down her shorts. “You know, after all you put me through, you’d think you’d be a little more sympathetic. Here I am, hurt and bleeding, and it’s all your fault.” When her shorts were off, she stood and jabbed her finger at him. “I am not getting in the water.”

“You’ll need to remove your sandals too.”

She scowled, yanking them off.

He strode forward and made a swipe for her. She dodged him and
stumbled away. He caught her before she fell down and made her injury worse.

His heart broke when he saw how white she was. He lifted her into his arms and cradled her against his chest. He could feel her tremble. She had to be in tremendous pain.

“I don’t feel so good,” she whispered. “Can’t you please just take me home?” She sounded on the verge of tears. He wanted to give in to her pleas, but that was not what she needed right now. She needed to get her focus off her injured and broken self and put it where it needed to go—on him.


No,” he answered firmly.


You know you’re heartless, cruel, and—”

“Gretchen,
” he interrupted, “we’re going in the water.”

“I’m not a mermaid
,” she said, each word clipped and colored with anger. He much preferred her angry than crying and broken, so he continued to egg her on.


There’s no denying what you are.”

“Okay, so what if I am? What then?”

“If you are what I think you are, I won’t waste any more time. You’ll be my wife at tomorrow’s daybreak.” The words slipped from his lips, surprising himself as much as it likely surprised her. Yet as he spoke them, his resolve set the words in stone. She would be his wife.

“You
’re crazy!” Her voice rose. “Do you have some kind of mermaid fetish? Well, forget it. I wouldn’t marry you if you were the last man alive, as handsome as Matthew McConaughey,
and
as rich as Bill Gates! What happened to fighting for a woman? Or did your long-winded lecture mean nothing?”

“Baby, tonight I fought harder for you than
all the other people I’ve known in my entire life—combined. And your mother’s right. I’m the man who loves you. I love you, Gretchen.”

“You don’t love me.” She choked on her words. “You don’t even like me.”

“I thought I already explained myself. Is the problem that I’m human? Would you marry me if I were born of the sea like you?”

Her eyes flickered
in surprise. She didn’t speak, but simply shook her head slowly.

“We
’ll see, little mermaid.” He paused for a moment before he carried her into the surf and strode out into deeper water.

 

Gretchen’s heart pounded and stomach churned as Kyros stepped into the surf. Could it be? Was he like her?

No, it couldn’t. This man was about to have the shock of his life.

The ocean water brought the change, like a thousand tiny fins brushing over her body. The water covered their heads as they plunged down into the moonlit sea. Her throbbing hand felt immediate relief. It still hurt like crazy, but it was much better.

She could hear Kyros growl. It sounded like he was in pain. She could feel his arms trembling around her. A moment later, he relaxed.

Cradled in his arms, she couldn’t see his legs. Were they still there? Of course they were. What had she been thinking? There was no way to hide her secret now.

What could she say? She wanted to say,
Close your eyes so I can disappear
. Or maybe she could say,
I know what it looks like, but this isn’t what you think
. Perhaps she could convince him he was dreaming.

That was
it, darn it! How could she be such an idiot? She could make him forget. And then his arms were gone, and she was floating. She looked up, expecting him to be surfacing for a breath. But he wasn’t there.

A dark shape rose from below. Gretchen screamed. The figure slapped its hands against its ears. Her scream turned to a breath of relief when she saw it was Kyros.

“Hades, Gretchen! Watch the volume.” He had his hands firmly against his ears. He rose higher. She caught a glimpse of his entire body and nearly screamed again. He had a tailfin. A grey tailfin!

“You… you’re a merman?”

He narrowed his eyes as if to gage her reaction to his next statement. She could see his tail curled, and his muscles tensed. He looked as if he were ready to chase her down. “No, I’m not. I’m a Dagonian.”

“A what?” She was taken aback. Her mother never said anything about any creature called a Dagonian.

“You’ve never heard of us?” He immediately relaxed.

Gretchen shook her head. “No. Are you a descendant of Triton too?”

“No, Dagonians descend from Calypso and Dagon.”

“I’m familiar with Calypso, but I’ve never heard of Dagon. Is he Greek?”

“No, he’s a Sumerian sea god. Their union caused quite a stir in both pantheons.”

Gretchen circled him, slowly swimming round, enraptured by the sight. She’d never seen a male creature like him. He looked even larger as a Dagonian than he did as a six-foot
-eight-inch human. His arms and chest were well muscled, and so was his tailfin. It was sleek, grey, and his whole body radiated power.

She reached a tentative hand out to touch his
fin. It felt like course-grit sandpaper to her fingertips—not unlike shark’s skin. She looked down at her own tailfin. It was soft, smooth, skin-colored, and… she was about to show too much! Kyros’s shirt billowed up. She immediately pulled it down and tied it into a hard knot.

“I have one question I must ask you
,” he said gravely. “How old are you?”

She frowned. “I’m twenty-three.”

He blew out a breath and relaxed. “And your mother…?”

“How old is she?” she asked, confused at why he felt the need to know their ages.

“Yes.”

“I’m not certain, but she’s been around a long time—several thousand years.”

“More than two?”

“Yes, at least three or four. Why?”

He pressed his lips together and frowned. “Because two thousand years ago, we were ordered by Poseidon to kill all the Mer. And that order is still in effect.”

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