“Wouldn’t you just like to pop it?” His eyes narrowed as he stared at the blowfish’s puffed out body with all its prickly parts.

  “No,” I shrieked playfully. “Don’t you dare.”

  “Damn,” he teased. But then he pulled out a chain with a silver locket from his shorts pocket.

  I looked over at it and saw that it said, “Anne” engraved on the front. My heart twisted. Was that an ex-girlfriend or a girl he still loved?

  “Can I confide in you?” he asked somewhat hesitantly.

  “I don’t know—can you?” I mocked facetiously. Then I shrugged, wondering if I had blown the moment. I wanted to kick myself.

  “Funny,” he knitted his eyebrows and crossed his arms over his chest as he leaned back against another boulder behind us. You got a smart mouth on you, don’t you, tomboy?”

  “Sometimes,” I said lowering one eyelid as I crossed my legs and pulled them into myself atop the rock and turned back to face him. “I’m just getting you back for all the questions.”

  Laughter played on his lips as he stared at me with his hands still folded over his perfect chest leisurely, the locket wrapped around one of his fingers. He looked way too comfortable now. I guessed that he knew how much I regretted my smart comment. “I should punish you for that,” he smirked as he set the locket on his lap and put his hands behind his head, still leaning back comfortably.

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  He chuckled. “You’ll see,” he teased. But then his eyes grew serious. “I could use a friend.” He looked down at the back of his hand and turned it over to examine his palm.

  “A friend?”

  “Yeah, got a problem with that?” His voice bordered on playful.

  “No,” I responded the word catching in my throat.

  His grin was back, but now it was crooked. He watched me for a minute before speaking. The finest of hairs raised on my arms and thighs. “I think something went wrong when I was converted into a mer,” he finally said. His eyes looked serious as his expression turned business-like now.

  I felt a little dizzy as I looked up at him running his hand over the smooth surface of the boulder. “You were converted so long ago. What do you mean?” I felt very curious, my hands sliding down the front side of my thighs as I unfolded my legs.

  He swallowed hard as he picked back up the silver locket from his lap and played with the piece, turning it over and caressing the engraving with his long index finger. “I have cravings for human flesh, but…” his voice trailed off.

  “Yes,” I encouraged him to go on wondering if I was entering a danger zone.

  He cleared his throat and looked into my eyes. He seemed surprisingly uncomfortable now. “You can never tell anyone this.” His voice was stern.

  “Oh, yes.” I bit my lip. “I won’t.”

  He shook his head, exasperated as he looked at me.

  “Oh!” My throat tightened. “Go on.”

  He nodded, suppressing some sort of private joke or something. I noticed the vein in his neck lifting bluish beneath the skin. It was hot. “I hunger for the blood of mers.”

  My eyes flew open. “What?” I tried to keep my voice steady, but he threw me entirely off guard.

  He brought his hands together tightly and brought the locket up to his lips for a second before lowering them, his body surprisingly tense. “To convert a human to a mer you have to kiss the victim long enough to turn. I was so terrified in the ocean after I had been thrown off the ship that while I was being kissed, I tore Abalone, the female mer that turned me, apart with my teeth…”

  My hands flew to the sides of my face.

  He shook his head as if he somehow knew what I was thinking though he couldn’t possibly know. “I tore her lip off just as I was converting into a mer and proceeded to tear her apart.”

  “You killed her?” I asked, my hand flying to my throat.

  His eyes glazed and then he nodded. “The Ancients have kept a closer eye on me than the others since. They excused me for the crime though such a thing was unheard of, but I sense their fear of me.” He looked down at his hands and continued. “You are the only one that knows why I killed her. I am different than the others. I think it is because I swallowed Abalone’s blood when I bit off her lip. Maybe that tweaked the process.”

  “You think that made you desire mer blood?” I tried to keep a blank expression.

  “I do.” He nodded as he brushed his hair back behind his ears. “I’m not like the others. I see that.”

  “Have you ever killed any other mers?” I felt my heartbeat racing.

  His eyes looked sad. He tilted his head to the side and shrugged ever so slightly not answering my imploration. “Thank you, Jewel,” he whispered as he seemed to examine my expression. “I’ve never really had a friend I could confide in.”

  I felt the blood heat up in the center of my chest. He must only think of me as a friend. His seeming flirtations must be how he is with everyone. He probably can’t even help his hotness. It was probably that boyish side to me that made him so comfortable to open up. I knew it wasn’t possible for a guy like Marcel to desire me romantically. Even though he basically just told me that he could very well drink my blood and kill me for that matter, I felt this terrible aching feeling in my chest now like I had just lost someone so very dear even though I never had him to begin with. “Your secret is safe with me,” I managed to say as I noticed him watching my mouth. I licked my lips out of habit and discomfort.

  His head jerked back just slightly, his body tense. “Don’t do that.” His nostrils flared. He slid off the rock and dropped the silver locket in his shorts. “Jewel Razzen…” He shook his head side to side. “It’s a shame I had to turn you.”

  “Why did you?” I asked, feeling self-conscious and embarrassingly aroused at the same time.

  He grinned wryly. “If I hadn’t, you’d be dead.”

  My eyes widened infinitesimally, not sure if I should be grateful or not.

  “You have a whole new world ahead of you now.” His thoughts seemed to drift off, causing me to wonder what he was thinking about.

  I slid off the rock beside him and stood on the white sand, taking note of the ease I felt firmly planted on the bottom of such a vast ocean. My arms waded out to the sides a little, but I held my balance surprisingly well. “What happens now?” I thought to ask, getting the feeling by the way his weight shifted to one foot that he was deciding to leave. “Do I meet the Ancients? Can we swim from the island and go back to our homes and to school?”

  He looked down and picked up a small crab, popping it into his mouth and chewing it up, the shell and all. “There will be revelries with the Ancients we will all attend where you will form with your school, learn the ropes, but the humans have to be killed off before we leave the island.

  I stepped back, trying to hide my emotions as much as possible. “But, why?”

  His face was expressionless. “The Trident Court won’t allow us to leave witnesses. My school was assigned to this conversion mission and we had explicit instructions to convert the six most attractive people on the yacht and kill the rest.”

  I tried to steady my breathing that started back up even though my gills were in play. “Why was I converted then? I wasn’t pretty.”

  He grinned, but then suddenly cocked his head to the side like he was listening to something. I followed him over to the opening in the coral reef. Apparently, he was interrupted by his school, Brigitte, that sado-red head who I don’t know her name, Marine, Laurent, and Pascal swimming through a field of sea grass beyond the coral reef. “I have something to take care of,” he said suddenly. Looking toward his friends in the distance, he brushed my shoulder with his hand, sending sensations up my spine and started to swim toward them through one of the openings in the reef. I looked through to watch him leave, feeling utterly lost.

  “Thank you, Jewel Razzen,” he called over his muscular shoulder and winked as his lithe, cut body swam away. Oh, boy, how could any living creature be so perfect? “Go back to the island and join with your school. You’ll be safe there.”

  My school? I swallowed hard. So I didn’t get to be with him? His last words seemed more like they were in my mind than actually spoken aloud. How the hell did he do that? It seemed like he communicated with me telepathically. I felt a slight burning sensation in my eyes and I wondered if I was crying.

  Chapter Nine

  I am tied against a round knife throwing board like an X with my arms over my head and legs spread. Marcel walks over the white sandy shore with a wry grin on his perfect face, his blue eyes sparkling under the moonlight. “Ready, friend?” he asks in a seductive voice.

  A tear rolls down my cheek, but I nod anyway, eager, excited. He runs his hand up my bare thigh stopping at the edge of my bikini line. My body quivers at his touch, aches. His eyes are boring into me. “Here we go,” he murmurs in my ear and then spins the round board with me fastened to it.

  Round and round I go watching his sexy bare back as he walks several feet away and turns around to face me. Round and round. My head spins. He picks up a silver glistening knife from a black velvet cloth on the sand holding several blades of the same kind. He touches the tip and raises an eyebrow before throwing it suddenly—quick and fast.

  It pierces the spinning board right next to my arm. My body flinches. The next one comes hard and fast skimming the other arm without injuring it. My heart is slamming against my chest. Holy shit! The next knife pierces through the air and stabs into the board right between my legs.

  I woke up screaming at the top of my lungs. What the hell? I rubbed my eyes. I was in a familiar place—lying on a makeshift bed under some sort of metal covering.

  “It’s okay.” I felt a hand on my shoulder. “You’re okay… You’re alright. It was just a dream.”

  I thought it was my mother. I was panting. At once, I grabbed onto her, pulling her into my arms. But it was not Mom; it was Savannah. I felt so hot. The heat was overwhelming. Tears streamed down my flushed face.

  “Let’s get you into the water,” she said, helping me up.

  My breathing was heavy as I nodded incoherently. The room was spinning around me. I stumbled to the ground, falling onto the pile of leaves that served as a bed. What a klutz.

  Savannah swept me up into her newly strong arms and carried me out of the dwelling across the beach. “You need the water, Raz,” she said in an expressive voice. I felt like I was burning up. The sun was so damn hot. As we crossed the beach, me in her arms, I looked out at the horizon. I must have been hallucinating.

  Everything looked so fucking blue the way the sky blended with the ocean like a big force field of energy like there was nothing else in the world now but blue. Blue Island. Blue water. Blue sky. Blue heat. It was all there was. I gazed out, my head in a whirl of hot vigor, and saw a huge, grand version of Marcel Paradis with a crown on his head wading in the burning sky holding out his scepter to me like he ruled the world.

  I felt a splash. Suddenly, water surrounded me. Savannah dropped me in the ocean. Immediately, I came back to my senses. Oh, it felt so good to be back in my natural habitat. My body temperature normalized.

  “Dang, you scared me, girl,” Savannah said, studying me as we waded fully submersed in the brilliant blue water. Sunlit bubbles rushed up around us.

  “I scared myself,” I sighed. “It was so scorching out there.”

  She nodded brushing her long black waves of hair out of her pretty face that I didn’t think I could ever get used to. “Now that we are mers, we need regular dippings. We are cold blooded creatures. That means if it is hot out, we have to cool off somehow. Our body doesn’t perspire in such cases.”

  Apparently, I was right about the cold blooded thing. “Do we ever sweat?” I asked.

  “We only perspire as a reaction to internal emotions not from overheating.” Her arms waded out to the sides of her body. She was in a long white sheer dress. So feminine and lovely, not at all like her. I wondered where she got such finery on this island. Her skin shimmered slightly in the water.

  I looked down at my arm and saw that it had a slight shimmer to it too. How beautiful, I thought.

  “How do you know this?” I asked, surprised at her confidence in the matter. I knew very little about being a mer.

  “I met with the Ancients.”

  My eyes widened. “Holy moly, are you serious?” Maybe that’s where she got the dress.

  “Yes, we all did except for you.”

  I was shaking my head. “Who is ‘we’?”

  “Logan, Andrew, Steve, and Jane—the other members of our family, or ‘school’ as they call it. After our first killings, we heard the mer song of the deep and followed the music to the Ancients. It was a beautiful chorus of sound. They can really sing.” Her eyebrows pulled together as she seemed to study my face.

  “I wonder why I wasn’t called to them.” I felt a nauseous sensation in the pit of my stomach like maybe I was alone in all this.

  “I heard that Marcel asked to be assigned to you.”

  I bit the side of my cheek. “Why?” If I had been on land, I’m sure that piece of information would cause me to perspire.

  “I can only guess.” She frowned, her arms pushing out to the sides holding her body in place in the water. Because we were close to the surface, light from the sun glistened in her long flowing hair. “I spoke with Pascal Beaudoin. He is one of the French exchange students. They are all mers.

  I nodded knowingly. “Yeah, I figured that out.”

  Her nose crinkled, causing me to wonder what she was about to say. I felt nervous wading in the water there up close to the surface. I kept looking down feeling like someone or something was watching me from below. My eyesight was superb now, but all I saw through the darkness beneath us were black jagged boulders with sea grass edged into the cracks. Something could be lurking down there, I thought, maybe hiding.

  “Well, Pascal warned me to keep you away from Marcel,” she finally said.

  My body tensed. “Why do you think he said that?”

  I expected her to say that he was Brigitte’s husband, but instead she said, “There is speculation that he is the successor to the royal throne.”

  “What?!” My head flew up, my eyes meeting hers. I felt dizzy at her admittance. “He is going to be king of the mers?” I thought of the image I had just seen of him in the sky with a crown and scepter. How strange.

  “Yes, he is going to rule all the mers both converts and Ancients alike.” She nodded, her face unreadable.

  I couldn’t help but laugh at that. “Marcel, the rogue?” My voice lifted with disbelief.

  She put her hand to her lips, suppressing a smile now. “Supposedly he is different than everyone else. I’m not sure how. I don’t think the exchange students really know, but I imagine the Trident Court does.”

  My adrenaline rushed as I thought about what Marcel had confided in me earlier. I assumed his difference was that he craved mer blood. “Go on, please,” I encouraged, feeling utterly confused. Shoals of tiny fish glided and weaved around us before swimming away.

  “There was a prophesy that a dangerous French convert named Paradis will rule the mers after the world tsunami that will happen sometime in the future. If he does not take his rightful place at that time, all the Ancients will die. So you can see that they are invested in the scoundrel.”

  I didn’t know if I believed in prophesies, but apparently the Ancients did. Did Marcel know about this oracle? That would be a great responsibility to be a king. I wondered if his rebelliousness was a reaction to that. “What else do you know about Marcel?” I asked. “I heard he was rich.”

  Her eyes lit up. “Damn strait. I heard the dude is loaded.” She cracked a grin reminding me of her old self. “He’s some kind of zillionaire! But apparently, the guy had a rough upbringing.”

  I still felt uneasy wading in the water up so close to the surface. My intuition was gnawing at me. Intuitively, I just knew we were being watched…or maybe hunted. I looked down below and saw a small sea snake swim out from what must have been a cave created by the boulders. It weaved around the sea plants. Maybe something else is in the cave. I bit down on my fist. Pull yourself together, girl, I thought. Nothing is after you. I brushed the idea away.

  “What happened to Marcel as a kid?” She had no idea how much I wanted to know.

  She shook her head side to side. “I don’t know all the details, but when he was seven and playing out in their vineyards with his brother, Marc, his three-year-old sister, Anne, fell in a fire pit where the vineyard workers burned refuge.”

  My hand flew to my heart. “Oh, my—poor child. Poor Marcel.” I remembered the locket Marcel was holding with the name “Anne” engraved on it. That must have been his sisters locket.

  “The guy’s tough—he can handle it,” she sighed. I was surprised at her callousness. “But, yeah, it’s a real shame. His poor sister. Every bad boy has his story.”

  My eyes narrowed. She didn’t seem to like him.

  Her lips pursed together as she watched me. “And the story’s not over.”

  “Go on,” I encouraged, anxious to hear about him.

  “Marcel’s father kicked him out of the house and made him live in the garage after that. It gets very cold there in France.”

  My eyebrows drew together. “What a jerk,” I said about his father. I felt so frustrated. I couldn’t stand how he suffered like that. “He was just a little kid.” My eyes drifted down below us. The snake had passed, but my discomfort was still ever present.

  “Apparently, he didn’t give him food, blankets, or anything.”

  I felt the blood draw out of my face. I’m sure I looked as pale as a ghost. “That’s awful.”

  She shrugged, maybe out of exasperation or maybe because she didn’t care. I wasn’t sure. “He had to go out onto the streets and beg for money.”