down my abdomen and onto the sand. The discomfort of lying still as sharp pebbles bit into my back was nothing compared to the intense pain throbbing on the right side of my body.
“It’s not a good idea for you to call me names right now, considering I have your life in my hands,” he retorted. The outline of his head became clearer as my eyes adjusted to the darkness. His eyes sparkled with fury in the moonlight.
“I’m not sorry,” I whined, jutting my chin out stubbornly. “I was simply asking a question.”
“ I don’t need you to be sorry. I need you to be quiet,” he scolded.
“Just leave, then. I don’t want your help,” I weakly protested. I don’t mean it. Don’t leave me here alone to die.
“Lily would kill me if I let you die. Would you please allow me to help you?”
Silent tears streamed down my face. I relented, and bowed my head in agreement and understanding. Stop the pain, please.
“ Look at me,” he whispered, cradling my head, and brushing back my hair. “You’ll be fine.”
Exhausted, I wanted to give in to the void, the darkness.
He gently placed his hands over the wound. I winced, but did as he instructed, and held back my screams. Only the occasional whimper escaped, less a matter of compliance, and more because I had nothing left to fight with.
As h e reached inside of me and pulled out something, the pain became agonizing.
In the dimness of the cave, a n image of my mom appeared. She cradled me in her arms, and embraced me to keep the pain at bay.
“It’s a tooth,” he muttered, as he squeezed something into my hand. “You have to understand, as a Mer, we’re a predators’ favorite treat. It was a tiger shark and they’re always hungry. You’re lucky—you probably still taste too human for him to have liked what he sampled.” He placed his hands back on my wound and pressed down. “I have to stop the bleeding now.”
A Mer?
Heat emanated and pulsed from his hands and the pain in my abdomen intensified for only a moment. While he worked, a dim blue light came through the top of his head, trailed down his arms, and then into my side. It enveloped us, growing in intensity.
I laid my head back as the pain eased. The image of my mother receded, but I didn’t want her to leave.
Finally, the intense throbbing sensation where he touched me faded and he let go. Retreating to the back of the cave, he sat down with his back firmly pressed up against the cave wall. He sat with his legs crossed and closed his eyes with his hands resting on his knees, palms up, a meditative posture.
I started shivering, my teeth chattering as a deep chill settled over me. Unsure if it was shock, blood loss, or both, I couldn’t seem to control my quivering. I’m so cold.
The smell of smoke drifted to me. I heard the crackle and pop of a fire as a woman’s laugh reverberated on the cave walls. Then I heard kissing and moaning.
Shivering, I envisioned myself crawling to the fire, bathing in its radiant warmth, but I didn’t have the strength. I considered the possibility of calling out to the couple, of screaming for help, but an inexplicable force whispered to my heart, it would be the wrong move. Trust the man who had placed his hands on me. Remain silent, it said.
T he heat of the big guy’s hand as he touched my leg startled me.
“You’re freezing,” he said , more as an observation.
“Fire,” I croaked out through chattering teeth, my muscles sore and growing rigid from the cold.
“I can’t let you go out there,” he mumbled almost considering doing exactly that. He glanced to the mouth of the cave and came forward on his knees, perhaps preparing to pounce on our unwelcome visitors. His eyes slid back to me and he touched my wet and torn dress. “This isn’t helping.”
“ I’mmmm nnot taking ittt off,” I chattered, pulling my wet dress in closer to me, hoping to maintain some level of modesty. My hair hung in a no-doubt perfect impression of a wet mop,
“It’s not a good idea for you to call me names right now, considering I have your life in my hands,” he retorted. The outline of his head became clearer as my eyes adjusted to the darkness. His eyes sparkled with fury in the moonlight.
“I’m not sorry,” I whined, jutting my chin out stubbornly. “I was simply asking a question.”
“ I don’t need you to be sorry. I need you to be quiet,” he scolded.
“Just leave, then. I don’t want your help,” I weakly protested. I don’t mean it. Don’t leave me here alone to die.
“Lily would kill me if I let you die. Would you please allow me to help you?”
Silent tears streamed down my face. I relented, and bowed my head in agreement and understanding. Stop the pain, please.
“ Look at me,” he whispered, cradling my head, and brushing back my hair. “You’ll be fine.”
Exhausted, I wanted to give in to the void, the darkness.
He gently placed his hands over the wound. I winced, but did as he instructed, and held back my screams. Only the occasional whimper escaped, less a matter of compliance, and more because I had nothing left to fight with.
As h e reached inside of me and pulled out something, the pain became agonizing.
In the dimness of the cave, a n image of my mom appeared. She cradled me in her arms, and embraced me to keep the pain at bay.
“It’s a tooth,” he muttered, as he squeezed something into my hand. “You have to understand, as a Mer, we’re a predators’ favorite treat. It was a tiger shark and they’re always hungry. You’re lucky—you probably still taste too human for him to have liked what he sampled.” He placed his hands back on my wound and pressed down. “I have to stop the bleeding now.”
A Mer?
Heat emanated and pulsed from his hands and the pain in my abdomen intensified for only a moment. While he worked, a dim blue light came through the top of his head, trailed down his arms, and then into my side. It enveloped us, growing in intensity.
I laid my head back as the pain eased. The image of my mother receded, but I didn’t want her to leave.
Finally, the intense throbbing sensation where he touched me faded and he let go. Retreating to the back of the cave, he sat down with his back firmly pressed up against the cave wall. He sat with his legs crossed and closed his eyes with his hands resting on his knees, palms up, a meditative posture.
I started shivering, my teeth chattering as a deep chill settled over me. Unsure if it was shock, blood loss, or both, I couldn’t seem to control my quivering. I’m so cold.
The smell of smoke drifted to me. I heard the crackle and pop of a fire as a woman’s laugh reverberated on the cave walls. Then I heard kissing and moaning.
Shivering, I envisioned myself crawling to the fire, bathing in its radiant warmth, but I didn’t have the strength. I considered the possibility of calling out to the couple, of screaming for help, but an inexplicable force whispered to my heart, it would be the wrong move. Trust the man who had placed his hands on me. Remain silent, it said.
T he heat of the big guy’s hand as he touched my leg startled me.
“You’re freezing,” he said , more as an observation.
“Fire,” I croaked out through chattering teeth, my muscles sore and growing rigid from the cold.
“I can’t let you go out there,” he mumbled almost considering doing exactly that. He glanced to the mouth of the cave and came forward on his knees, perhaps preparing to pounce on our unwelcome visitors. His eyes slid back to me and he touched my wet and torn dress. “This isn’t helping.”
“ I’mmmm nnot taking ittt off,” I chattered, pulling my wet dress in closer to me, hoping to maintain some level of modesty. My hair hung in a no-doubt perfect impression of a wet mop,
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