Chapter 11
Forrest
Iglare at the Koralli owner of the teahouse.
I offered and paid a ridiculous amount of money for him to close the restaurant for our courting with Blair.
A ton of gold, which he just dropped into my hand before opening the doors for the two other damn pods I know don’t have mermaids anymore.
A Seolfor cocks his head at me. Behind them stands Tinom’s Kade Driftwood.
“Are you fucking serious?” Alexei growls. “How the hell did they even find out that we were meeting Blair here?”
Clark stares at Kade, and he inclines his head to my pod mate. Clark raises his hand.
“What the hell?” Zion bumps Clark’s shoulder.
“I can’t exactly stab our competition. Not when he’s my client,” Clark says.
“You have plenty of clients. Designing the atrium of the new Maelstrom is going to keep your agenda full until you retire.”
“Sure, but I’m not planning on retiring anytime soon.
Who wants to be stuck in the house with the lot of you, with you wandering around in your robe?
” Clark takes a sip of his tea, but his cup is empty.
It’s empty because he’s been working nonstop.
The male forgets to eat and drink, and when he remembers?
He inhales everything. He could easily give up the Tinom project.
“Or you could back out since we’re competitors,” I say.
“How’s he going to take it when Blair chooses us?” Zion takes a bite of a teacake.
“She hasn’t chosen us. She hasn’t even met Sterling yet.
” I raise my eyebrows. And fuck, my gut twists.
I’m not sure I’ve even seen him in the last few days.
I’ve been busy with the security council, and Athena knows what Sterling’s up to.
In all the years on the council, I’ve only ever gotten wind of one of his projects.
He’s not a government employee. Rather, his firm has a lifetime contract with the king.
And with our current king being beyond secretive, I have no idea what the male does.
With the doors open to the teahouse, regular customers have rolled in.
“Who’s that?” I cock my head at the group of five congregating at a table near the window.
Their heads are together, and they’re dressed in black.
We are in a mixture of purple, black, and yellow.
It’s protocol for me, being the governor.
But for the others, I suppose it’s more of a habit.
Our mothers all dressed us in dome colors growing up.
And most of us were born into Stele. All but Delmar and Sterling.
Sterling was born into Seolfor, of course.
Sterling’s the most Seolfor name there ever was.
I can think of ten Sterlings from Seolfor.
But none as frustrating as our pod mate.
“Did you have to say his name?” Alexei says.
“What?” Zion, who’s sitting next to me, asks. The two of us are facing the front entrance, while Clark and Alexei are facing the other way.
Alexei stands, his chair squeaking on the tile floor. “Didn’t know you were coming.”
Sterling’s here. “I’m here on business,” he snaps.
When our mate put him up to bring into our pod, it was Grayson, Zion, and me.
He made the important fourth, the male that can close the ring on a female’s fertility.
The one that lets a pod become parents of podlets.
Not for us—it didn’t work out for us. But that was a long time ago.
And it wasn’t his fault. It wasn’t anyone’s fault. It’s just something that didn’t happen.
I stand and hold his eyes. I’ve long ago given up on assuming that Sterling knows what people want or don’t want.
With my other pod mates, I can incline my head and give them the don’t-fuck-this-up-for-us look.
But not with Sterling. “We are here on business too. More important business than whatever you’re doing. ”
“Forrest, sit down.” Sterling turns from me and moves to the corner of the room in what I suppose is an attempt to blend in.
There’s nothing about Sterling that blends in.
He’s six feet, nine inches tall and dressed in a leather jacket, black tunic and trousers.
There’s not a bit of decoration on him other than the octopus ink tattoos that are sticking out from beneath the cuffs of his tunic.
Years ago, we could go up against each other.
Not that our mate let us. She’d diffused it, saying Sterling was full of eels’ blood and I needed to let him be.
Letting him be somewhere else is what I should have done.
Somewhere other than our pod. But now we’re stuck with him and all the frustration he brings.
“We’ll need to talk about this at home later,” I say.
His eyes flash at me. Sterling’s not one to cause a scene.
Honestly, he thinks he’s the master of blending.
He used to say he was the master of disguise and the deliverer of force.
But then, we were all full of fish guts when we were younger.
Things were strained between us before our mate died, and after?
Yeah, it’s amazing force we haven’t killed each other.
Perhaps pursuing Blair is foolish. She seems like a sweet human, based on everything I’ve seen since I met her at the dock. Dealing with us? Yeah, she might not need that. Hell, I’m not sure I need it.
“Ho, I see those political wheels rolling around in your head Forrest. We’re not giving up on this. We can make the jellyfish brain see this will be good for us all.” Clark leans back but then gets up with his cup. “I’m getting some more tea. You want anything?”
“I’ll get it—and another plate of teacakes so we have some for when Blair shows up with the Portsmouth pod.” Zion picks up the tray, like he wasn’t the one who ate most of them. When he damn well was.
“Anything else? Like a half dozen sandwiches for your mid-afternoon meal?” Clark laughs.
“Oh, that’s not a bad idea.” Zion takes the tray with one half-eaten cake on it over to Sterling in the corner. He holds it like a butler out to Sterling . . . who growls?
“Take it, Sterling. You know he’s only going to make it worse if you don’t,” Alexei says over the din of the teahouse.
Sterling grabs it and shoves it into his mouth with the swiftness of his spirit animal, the eel.
The surrounding tables are full when Zion comes back with two fresh trays.
“What time did they say they would be here?” Alexei asks.
“At two,” Zion says.
“They’re late.” I find lateness incredibly irritating. But perhaps there’s a reason for it.
A large crowd swells at the front door. Males of different sizes and wearing different dome colors. Then I spot the Portsmouth pod. Nico’s hard to miss. He’s a few inches shorter than Sterling, but he carries the same scowl. Holter and Nico enter first. There’s more behind them in a tight bubble.
“Get back,” Nico commands. He’s not carrying a weapon, but I see the visible shudder of a male at the table next to me.
The crowd parts, and there behind Holter is their mate, Annabelle, with Blair and Marlee.
Eros moves up next to them and blocks Kade Driftwood, who’s getting too close to the females.
I could have picked out Nico Portsmouth from the other side of the ocean.
My eyes flick back to Sterling. Nico reminds me a hell of a lot of the asshole in my own pod.
Then again, without Eros and Nico, I’d probably be dead.
Killed by the Braesen psychopath who wanted to take down our whole way of life.
The entire city is indebted to them because of their actions.
But that doesn’t mean there isn’t a visible shudder in a good portion of the crowded teahouse upon their arrival.
My attention flicks over to the owner of this place. How much more did the Tinom pay him? He’s working the cash register like it’s a piano. The place is fuller than after a dome rival match.
“Fucking aquarium,” Alexei says under his breath and stands.
We’re all standing. My heart twists as Nico clears a path to our table.
“Mason, you said private,” Nico grunts.
“That was the intent.” I flick my gaze to the Koralli owner.
“I’ll have a word with him . . . later.” Nico steps to the side. “Blair, Marlee, sit.”
“Nico, my aunt and cousin aren’t dogs!” Annabelle grasps at his arm.
“Clearly, they aren’t dogs. More like blood in a pool of hungry sharks.” Eros puts his hand up and pushes a young Zaffiro. “Get out of here.” He shakes his head.
Annabelle cocks her head at him.
“That one is my cousin, Sunshine. My own damn cousin. Shoo,” Eros says.
I barely hear it. I’m too busy being a young, tongue-tied fool. Blair steps out from behind Annabelle. Her hair is done up in braids. It’s shorter than a lot of mermaids wear it, but it suits her. Her blue eyes sparkle, and her deep red lips turn upward. Her hands twitch at her sides.
Alexei outstretches his hand. Handshakes. He had us practice for an hour this morning. It was infuriating. But she reaches out and takes it. “Blair, it’s lovely to see you.”
“Alexei, yes?” Blair holds his hand. Now she seems unsure of this whole handshake thing.
“Yes, you have a good memory,” Alexei says.
“Not as good as it used to be.” Blair laughs.
“My daughter, Marlee.” Blair lets go of Alexei’s hand and puts her arm around her daughter.
Unlike Blair, Marlee hasn’t braided her hair.
It’s long and hangs to the middle of her back in a ponytail.
I’m focused on Blair, but there are more in the cafe who are staring at Marlee.
I want to advance our relationship with Blair, but I can’t help but worry about her young daughter.
Without fathers to protect her from the eels that will want to take advantage of her.
And her hair like that? Wearing human clothes?
“Hi.” Marlee waves, no handshake. I catch Clark’s body language change; he wasn’t sure about the whole handshake thing either.
“It’s nice to see you. We’re all happy you could come.” Clark smiles.
“Yes . . .” Blair’s forehead wrinkles.
“Is there something wrong, Blair?” Zion asks.
“There’s four of you. I guess I thought you would all be here.” Blair holds Alexei’s eyes. And Clark taps Alexei’s back. He was so convinced that all of us would overwhelm her. Then again, with Sterling in the corner of the room, he’s not wrong.
“Blair, would you join us?” I motion to the table. A table that now seems too small with the entire Portsmouth pod, Blair, her daughter, and us clustered around it.
“The tables are a little small,” Holter says, glaring at the table. It’s the largest there is in the cafe. The L-shaped bench covers two sides. On the other side, there are four chairs, another at the end.
“I’m sure we could squeeze in.” Blair zigs around Nico and is sliding down the bench when Kade pushes through the crowd, the same Tinom that Clark’s working for. The same Tinom whose pod, we all know, wants Blair as well.
I incline my head to the side where the four Tinoms are pushing their way toward us.
The crowds are parting, but not as smoothly as they did for the Portsmouths.
Kade’s all smiles, his damn hair in a wave on the side of his head.
There are ugly rumors out there about what happened to their last mermaid.
I don’t believe them. Half of the things said about Nico weren’t true.
Lies started by Tinom. And the same thing could be said about Kade.
Lies started by Glyden. But right now, I’m ready to reverse course and say they’re all true.
He’s got his green eyes set on Blair, and he weaves around Holter and past Castor.
“For your own fucking safety, take a step back,” Castor says.
“Ms. Portsmouth.” Kade puts his hand on Blair’s shoulder and pulls her in, kissing each cheek. It’s fast, and then he drops his hands from her shoulder.
“Oh, uh . . . Hello.” Blair laughs.
“I’m Kade Driftwood. My pod mates and I have been trying to get in touch with you.”
“Oh, I . . . I didn’t know?” Blair doesn’t step away from him. And it makes me want to rush in between the two of them. At least I’m not growling under my breath like Clark.