Each Step Like Knives (3 page)

She was singing again. He heard her voice even over
the crashing of the waves against the shore. Her voice was lovelier
than anything he'd ever heard, even if he understand only a little
of what she was saying.

Jeenai floated in the shallow water for a while,
listening. She likes to walk along the beach at night. He liked to
watch her move with the twin supports he knew were called legs
moving with such swift efficiency over the sand. In the water, she
would flounder where he is strong, but there on land, she had the
advantage over him.

His heart thudded in his chest at the sight of her
pale hair, caught and tangled by the night breeze. A wave lifted
and took him closer to her. Now he saw the flash of her bare skin
as she waded in the froth of sea foam at the edge of the waves. She
had breasts, like a fem, but her center was exposed for the world
to see instead of being tucked away inside her. The dark triangle
between her legs advertised the pleasure to be had there. His cock
thickened and grew longer in response.

She was beautiful. He longed for her in a way he had
never longed for anything else. The ache inside him was a hunger
that could not be assuaged by food, or by sex play. Not even by
battle. He'd tried all those things: stuffing himself to nausea,
fucking his way through every revel two and three times over,
heading out to fight the neighboring pod of Carrageenai. Nothing
satisfied him like the sight of her.

He'd seen her first by accident. A skirmish had left
him wounded, far from home, and he'd floated to the surface,
delirious with pain. He'd come out against the nighttime sky and
heard the sound of her singing.

Now, he swam the great distance back and forth from
his territory to hers as often as he could.

Seeing and hearing her was no longer enough. He
wanted to touch her. He wanted to mate with her, stay with her,
which was ludicrous and should make him feel ashamed for even
desiring such perversion.

Yet as he floated and heard her voice across the
water, Jeenai didn't feel ludicrous or perverse. He only felt
sorrow he couldn't reveal himself to her. He let the tide sweep him
uncomfortably close to shore, just beyond the edge of breaking
waves. Sand scraped at his tail, but he barely noticed the
abrasion, so caught was he by the sound of her voice.

And now, what was she doing? She was entering the
water. He heard the splash of her inadequate fins --her legs--as
she moved them in the sea. She stopped singing, and after a moment,
Jeenai realized he could no longer hear her at all. She had gone
beneath the water.

The wine
had made her warm and the water had looked so appealing, Helena had
no compunctions about diving in. She hadn't counted on a riptide.
The forceful water had grabbed her legs and pulled her under. She'd
come up, spluttering and coughing, and when she put her feet down,
she felt nothing but water beneath her.

Stupid! she berated herself. Stupid for swimming
alone, at night, without even a bathing suit. She'd seen the movie
Jaws. Naked, drunk swimmers always got eaten at night.

She kicked as powerfully as she could and tried to
find the shore. There...a glint of light, left from a burning
candle on her deck. She focused on it. How far out was she? The
light seemed as far away as a star.

The water closed over her head again and this time
she didn't fight it. She drifted. She was drowning, but wasn't
afraid. Funny. She'd always thought she'd fight death when it
came.

Something bumped against her trailing legs and
Helena screamed. Thoughts of sharp teeth and giant dorsal fins
filled her as the water rushed into her throat and lungs. She was
under the water! She pumped her feet, moved her hands, but which
way was up? Drowning hadn't frightened her, but being chomped by a
shark did.

Hands. She felt hands on her waist. Arms curled
around her and she was pressed against a bare, male chest. A face
swam before her. A human face. Lips pressed to hers and gave her
air to breathe. She didn't know how, but could only be grateful for
the breath. They surged to the surface, where she gasped in a
breath that burned like fire. She caught a glimpse of streaming
dark hair, dark, fathomless eyes, and strong, broad shoulders.

He pulled her toward the shore. In the back of her
sea-soaked brain, Helena waited for him to carry her onto the sand
like the hero from a romance novel. Kiss her back to life, then
perhaps make passionate love to her on the sand without either one
of them getting chafed.

Instead, she felt his muscles bunch and roll as he
lifted and tossed her as hard as he could. She didn't quite make it
all the way to the land. Helena landed with a thud in the shallow
waves. She sucked in air, not water, and she turned to look with
bleary eyes for her savior.

He wasn't there.

"You stink
of split-tail." Krall made a rude gesture to emphasize what he'd
just said.

Jeenai was too tired to care. He shoved past his
brother and went to his chambers, where he curled on his bed of
cultured seaweed and tried to rest. He had touched her. Her skin
had been smooth, like a fem's, but suppler. More tender somehow.
Her scent had been liked nothing he'd ever smelled.

"You've been to the surface." Krall had followed
him. Jeenai made no reply. His brother swam closer and lay down
next to him. "You're failing, oh, my brother."

Jeenai rolled onto his back and unfurled the length
of his tail. "Leave me alone."

Krall made the hand signs for laughter. Jeenai
looked up. His brother was no longer mocking him.

"If your desires lay on the surface, oh, my brother,
maybe that's where you should go."

Jeenai lifted his upper body. "You can't be
serious."

Again, Krall made the laughing motion. "I'm serious.
You're pale. You're getting thin. You take no joy in the hunt, in
the feast. Not even in the fuck, oh, my brother."

Jeenai nodded. All of that was true. "So what can I
do about it? She's captured me as surely as a net or a hook."

"Carageenai don't mate like the split-tails do."
Krall made a grimace as he cast his gaze upwards. "You'd have to
stay with her for the rest of your life...which, fortunately,
wouldn't be very long."

Jeenai thought back to the eight ten-seasons he'd
already passed. "My life would drag out infinitely longer feeling
the way I do."

Krall let a stream of silver bubbles filter out from
his nose and mouth. It was a gesture of commiseration, and one
Jeenai would not have guessed his brother capable of. Krall reached
out a hand and grabbed Jeenai's.

"Oh, my brother, I did not tell you of the time I
spent during my youthquest." Krall shrugged. "When I was gone, I
did more than hunt and fight and sow my seed in other territories.
I also went to the surface."

Jeenai had never heard this story. "My brother?"

Krall's gaze had gone far away. "I met a split-tail.
A handsome split-tail. One of their mals. I came across him in a
lagoon. He was swimming. I was so taken by the way his...what are
they called?"

"Legs."

"His legs churned the water with twice as many
movements as a tail does, yet he could move only half as fast. I
caught him with no effort. I held him in my arms. He seemed so much
smaller than I, though his sex equipment was the same."

Jeenai laughed. "You didn't, oh, my brother."

Krall's grin emphasized his sharp teeth. "I did. Why
not? The mating wasn't like anything I'd ever done before, I can
tell you that."

"He didn't fight you?"

"Oh, no. He embraced me. He put his mouth on mine,
which was odd, as we were both above the surface, and I had no need
to give him the lifekiss."

"That's how split-tails show affection. Passion."
Jeenai thought for a moment. "She would have drowned tonight, if I
had not been there. If I had not put my mouth to hers."

"Careless split-tails." This time, Krall's hands
fluttered in laughter that echoed the noise issuing from his
throat. "Don't they know any better?"

"Why tell me your tale now, oh, my brother?" Jeenai
pulled his tail up so he could grip it with both hands and lean
against the wall.

"Because you are my favorite of all my brothers,
Jeenai. And I hate to see you wasting away for something that could
be yours."

Jeenai watched his older brother stretched out
lazily on his back. "You're talking about the sea hag."

Krall rolled his eyes toward Jeenai. "Who other? She
can give you what you want, oh, my brother. Legs instead of a tail.
The ability to breathe air, not water. She can make you into a
split-tail. But at what price, oh, my brother? That's what I ask
you."

Jeenai thought of the human woman. She'd felt right
in his arms. His heart and his cock leapt at the thought of her in
his arms again. "I will pay the price, Krall."

"I
know it sounds crazy, Frannie, but it happened." Helena turned off
the burner when the kettle began to whistle, then fixed herself a
mug of Earl Grey. Extra sugar. Cream. Her eyes and nose still
burned today from the saltwater, but she felt curiously energized,
otherwise.

"You almost drowned last night and you make it sound
like something out a fairy tale." Francine's voice was disapproving
even through the long-distance connection. "This is reality,
Helena. You could've died last night, if what you're telling me is
true and not some dream."

Helena blew on the tea. "It wasn't a dream."

"You really want me to believe some gorgeous
lifeguard pulled you out of the water--"

"Threw me out."

"Threw you out of the water, then just
disappeared?"

Helena sipped the hot drink and sighed with pleasure
at the taste of real cream. "That's what happened."

Silence. Francine sighed. "Are you really all
right?"

"I'm really all right!" Helena turned and looked out
the kitchen window to the glimpse of beach beyond. "Fran, it was
really amazing. He was amazing."

"A guy who can breathe underwater and is strong
enough to throw you to shore would count as amazing."

"When you put it that way," Helena said, "it does
sound nuts. I know."

"Maybe you had an out-of-body experience."

"I don't think so." Helena's nipples peaked beneath
the cotton T-shirt she wore. The memory of her mystery man's lips
caressing hers had just shot a bolt of pure desire straight through
her. "I was definitely in my body."

"Don't go swimming at night by yourself any more!
Promise? Not even if it is to meet hunky men. Okay?"

"Okay. Yes. I promise." Helena laughed. "I'm sorry I
worried you."

Francine snorted, and Helena could imagine her
friend rolling her eyes. "I'm still worried."

"Don't be. I'm fine," Helena said for what felt like
the hundredth time. "I have to go."

They wished each other good-bye. "I'll call you in a
couple days," Francine said.

Helena didn't have the heart to tell her friend not
to call so often. "Okay. Talk to you then."

Helena looked out to the beach again. The pale blue
glimmer of sky she'd seen earlier had gone a dark and foreboding
gray. It looked like it was going to storm. Even as she watched, a
fork of lightning split the gray. A moment later, the sound of
thunder came to her ears.

Helena left her tea on the counter and pushed
through the screen door to stand on the porch. She shaded her eyes
to stare out at the roiling ocean. The beach, which earlier had
boasted several umbrellas and a few families, was now deserted.
Even the sand looked gray beneath the storm clouds.

She could see something moving on the surface
further out. What was it? A tornado on the water?

Her feet moved of their own will. She left the
kitchen and went to the beach to see what was dancing on the water.
She'd heard of water funnels, but had never seen one before. The
swirling silver tunnel danced on top of the water, bending and
dipping like an old-fashioned lady in a ball dress bowing to her
partner. Helena's nipples tingled again at the sight. Her pulse
beat rapidly in her clit. She shook her head. What on earth was
happening to her?

Waves crashed and pounded the sand. The funnel grew
closer. It looked to Helena like the neck of some ancient beast,
some sort of dinosaur. A sea monster.

The hag
lived deep. Jeenai swam to the outskirts of her territory and
paused. The sand here shifted subtly from brown to gray and then to
black. The vegetation hung limp and pallid, with twisted branches
and sagging, ugly flowers. She'd built a wall of bones--animal,
human, even some of the Carrageenai. A fish hung, flopping, from
the ribcage of a split-tail sailor who wore a garland of
phosphorescent moss around its neck.

The water was colder here and Jeenai shivered. The
Carrageenai could adjust their body temperatures rapidly to
accommodate the changes in the sea depths, but he wasn't a fish.
The cold water still affected him and made him slow.

Her guards seized him before he'd made it halfway to
her door. Jeenai didn't fight them, since his reactions were not at
their usual speed and because it would be considered an affront to
the hag if he killed her guards before asking her to grant him a
favor. Instead, he hung in the tentacles of her trained squid and
tried to ignore the clacking of their sharp beaks in his face as
they threatened him.