Chapter 5
Zion
You don’t need to help me.
Shut up, Holter the Hero of Hestert?tten says.
He didn’t . . .
The water swooshes out of the airlock. I shift out of fluke.
“The shark only caught a piece of my . . .” I have no idea what it caught.
It fucking hurts. It’s not that big of an injury, more of an embarrassment.
The lights and movement in front of what I know is the apartment Blair Portsmouth is staying in were too big of a draw.
Even without the lights and movement, it’s a temptation every time I swim by.
“Why the hell were you even here?” Holter grips my arm—part holding me up, part yanking me.
“I went out for my daily swim.” A daily swim that seems to lately be coming this way more often.
“Daily swim?” Holter asks.
“I don’t get a chance to shift much in my line of work. It’s part of my workout routine.”
Holter’s eyes flick to the tattoo on my arm, and I know what he’s thinking. “You’re Stele; that’s a really long swim.”
“I’m dedicated.”
The second airlock opens, and we step inside, letting the door close behind us.
I’m happy to see that even though they are living on the seabed like crustaceans, the airlock has the safety precautions of an extra chamber.
Having a human living in an apartment without one would be foolish and irresponsible.
We move into the last one as Eros and Castor swim into the first chamber.
It’s too hard to talk while the fresh water pelts my skin and the driers suck the water away.
I’ve wanted to see Blair again, but not like this.
Not bleeding and naked. Well, fuck, I want to see her naked, but not now, not yet.
Alexei keeps sending us all articles to read about how humans are different than us.
How we will need to be versed in human culture if we are going to be successful in wooing Blair to mate into our pod.
We’re going to have enough trouble overcoming the fact that there are seven of us and several of us are more than a little difficult to get along with.
But that happens in large pods. That’s why mermaids always add slowly and carefully.
The airlock opens, and there is Nico and his mate, Annabelle. Nico’s glaring, his arms crossed over his white robe. “You’re bleeding on my floor.” He thrusts a towel at me.
“Yes. I’m sorry about that.” I wrap the towel around my calf and grit my teeth.
I’m not weak, not a little guppy. But it’s been a long time since my military days.
Standing in front of a recent ex-commander, I’m not going to cry like a podlet over an injury that will be healed by the end of the week.
“Get cleaned up and get the hell out of here.” I’m sure Nico’s glare has caused more than one new squib to wet themselves. I, however, am not a squib, nor have I been one for over twenty-seven years. Even the last ten years in a desk job haven’t made me lose my edge.
“Not a problem.” It most definitely is a problem.
Now that I’m in the apartment with Blair Portsmouth, I’m not going to leave with her thinking I’m some sort of stalker.
It’s bad enough that Alexei has his weird uncles staking out the lobbies.
Although they have provided us with some interesting information.
Our biggest competition is a pod of eight from Seolfor and a pod of five from Koralli.
Both of them tried to get into the apartment and were turned away.
The Koralli pod was talking openly in the lobby about how they were going to give up.
That it wasn’t worth their time. Fools. Mason pod males don’t give up.
That is something that bonds the seven of us together.
We don’t give up. We’re stubborn, the whole lot of us.
I don’t know if we all started out that way or if time has molded us closer together. But we’re not quitters.
I step out of the airlock, and the doors whoosh shut behind me. My second step sends a quick jab of pain shooting up though my pelvis into my spine, and the towel wrapped around my leg has turned a bright crimson.
“What are you thinking? You can’t let this man just leave. He might lose his leg. That’s a lot of blood.” Blair’s voice doesn’t shake as she pushes between Nico and his mate.
“He’s fine,” Nico growls.
“Nico, he’s not fine. That’s a lot of blood.” Annabelle places her hand on the bare skin of Nico’s chest peeking out from his robe.
One of the other males behind me says something, but the words are garbled.
“Fine, we can treat his wound and then he goes.”
I take another step, but the pain causes me to gasp.
Holter lifts me. Shame pulses with the pain in my leg. “I can walk.”
“You cannot.” He bends to set me on the sofa—
“Not there. Take him into my room,” Blair says.
And I can’t help but smile. Or at least I think I’m smiling.
It might be more like a parrotfish impression with their weird teeth.
When she came off the sub, her hair was braided, as is the custom here.
Now her hair is gathered into a ponytail, hanging loosely at her back.
She’s wearing a white linen tunic and dark leggings.
She looks comfortable, and all I want to do is lay my head on her lap and have her pet me.
“I don’t like him going into your bedroom,” Castor says.
“The sofa is white,” Blair’s daughter says.
“He’s more solid than he looks. I’m not holding him forever. I’m putting him in Blair’s room.” Holter stomps through the apartment.
My eyes are fluttering open and closed, but it’s nicer than I imagined for being a ground dwelling.
The chambers are large and well-appointed.
Holter places me on a small bed and tosses a blanket to me.
I catch it and cover myself before he leaves.
If the articles Alexei sent us are true, I don’t want to make Blair feel uncomfortable.
I smooth the blanket out over my hips. I haven’t lain on such a small bed since I was a podlet.
Even after losing our mate, we’ve slept in the pod bed, elbow to ear, for the last eight years.
Forrest insisted. “If we take our own chambers, then we are no longer a pod but roommates.” As much as I’ve longed for not being kicked in the middle of the night as a result of Grayson’s nightmares or faced with Forrest’s continual insomnia, him constantly getting in and out of bed, he was right. We are still a pod.
“Here, sit up. Let me put a pillow under your head. I’m Blair. I believe we met at the port.”
“He knows who you are. It’s why his leg has a hole in it.” Eros laughs.
Blair cocks her head to him. “I’m being polite. Now either help or get out.”
“Your niece is very much like you. I’ll get a medical kit.” Eros slips out, leaving Annabelle, Nico, and Blair in the room with me.
“Marlee, don’t come in,” Blair calls over her shoulder.
“My cousin isn’t a fan of blood.” Annabelle replaces the towel with a clean one.
“Neither are you, AD,” Marlee calls from the hallway.
“If you’re going to argue, you can step out too.” Blair turns to me and smiles. Her blue eyes sparkle in the low light. “Zion, is it?”
“Yes. I’m sorry to have intruded on your show,” I say.
“My niece wanted me to see her fluke. It’s quite lovely.”
“You hadn’t seen it before?”
There’s a loud groan from the corner of the room, from Nico. “So help me, Mason, you harm one hair on my aunt’s head and I’ll rip your other leg off.” Nico storms from the room.
Annabelle’s eyes are wide. “Will you be okay if I step out for a minute, Aunt Blair? When the four of them are alone together, they tend to think whatever decision they’re making is the right one.”
“Yes, please go. Let’s make sure Zion is able to leave with all of his limbs.”
“Thank you. I’m rather fond of them.”
“I imagine you are.” Blair’s holding a towel tightly around my leg. “You have a British accent.”
“I suppose I do. My language tutor when I was a podlet had spent time in England. It’s stayed with me over the years.”
“It’s nice.”
“I like your accent.” It’s a damn fool thing to say.
“I have an accent? Well, I suppose I do. They say the Midwest has the least accent of anywhere, but then compared to what? Are you doing okay? I’m sure Eros will be back really quickly with the med kit.”
From out in the hall, Blair’s daughter says, “I don’t know about that, Mom. Their discussion is getting really loud.”
“I’m sure they’re trying to decide what to do with me.” I’m sure there’s a lot they are talking about.
“Well, they’re not feeding you to the sharks. They’re deciding if they want to get dome politics involved.”
“Oh. You didn’t mean to get bitten by a shark. You can’t be in trouble; you were just out swimming. Like a jog.”
I smile. “Right, like a jog. But it’s more than that. I went past the posted area. I’m in the wrong. I shouldn’t have, but I . . .”
“You were drawn in by my niece’s dance.”
I’m not one for secrets. I leave that to Clark and Sterling. “Not your niece. I suppose I was hoping to get a glimpse of you in the window. When I saw the different lights, I thought there might be something going on, and I trespassed.”
“But you knew about the sharks?”
“I did, but I’ve outswum sharks before.”
“On purpose?”
“In my youth, for fun.”
“Oh, a daredevil, I see.” She laughs. “I suppose I was one too. I jumped from the top of the hayloft when someone dared me.” She shakes her head.
“And what happened?” I have no idea what a hayloft is.
“I broke my leg. I had to spend the rest of the fall and part of the winter in a cast. Although I did get time to read more, as I didn’t have to do my chores. So it wasn’t all bad.”
My leg is throbbing, but all these little tidbits I’m getting about Blair are making the pain worth it.
Reading. I like it. Learning is important to me.
She’s mostly practical but has a streak of rebel in her.
“Yes, well, I don’t think I’m going to get out of work or chores.
What sort of chores did you escape from? ”
“Normal farm things for a twelve-year-old. Cleaning out the horse stalls, bringing water to the chickens, collecting eggs, slopping the pigs, that kind of thing.”
“Did you like it?”
Her forehead creases. “I suppose. I liked taking care of the piglets, and when I got older, I liked driving the tractor. But I’m glad to have left it behind.”
Blair’s daughter huffs in the corridor.
“Let’s leave the comments from the peanut gallery alone.”
“I’m going to go get some dessert, if you’re okay, Mom?”
“I’m fine, but Zion could use that med kit. Can you see what’s keeping them so long?”
“Yeaaaaah . . . Sure, as long as there aren’t any non-angry noises coming from the living room.” Marlee’s footsteps fade away.
Blair smiles at me, but it doesn’t reach her eyes like it did before. I want to ask her what Marlee is insinuating, but it would be pushing too hard.
“Excuse me for what I’m about to do.” She smiles politely, then yells, “Eros, bring me the damn med kit.”
The throbbing pain echoes up my leg to my back, but it’s not as bad as when I stood. Being alone with Blair is better than a med kit, but I’m going to need it at some point.
Eros skids into the room. “Sorry, Blair. We were having a little family meeting.”
“That’s great, but . . .” She lifts her hand, and it’s covered in blood. It’s my blood, and that doesn’t make me woozy, but seeing it on Blair does.
“I’ve got this if you want to sit down.” Eros takes the supplies out of the bag and lays them on the blanket. Sanitizing spray and wound-closing spray. He tosses the towel on the side of the bed.
She nods at Eros. “I can help. Living on a farm, there’s not much I haven’t seen.”
“This is nothing, Aunt Blair.” Eros is poking around in my leg while I’m doing my best to not pass out or gasp.
“Want me to hold your hand?” Blair asks, and she offers me her hand.
“I’d like that.” I take it, cupping her hand in mine.
“You can squeeze really hard if you need to.” She places her other hand on top.
I gaze up into her blue eyes. I’m done for. I’ve never wanted to get to know someone, to completely understand someone, as much as in this moment.