Chapter 41
Danica
After two days of playing pirate on the high seas, we finally made it to Serraphatic Cove.
We drop anchor about a mile off the coast. The view from the ship is like something straight out of a travel brochure.
Mountains that could give the Rockies a run for their money, waterfalls that would make Niagara look like a leaky faucet, and water so blue that it looks like someone melted down sapphires and poured them into the ocean.
Gideon's ship is looking pretty damn spiffy. It's like it just rolled out of the pirate shipyard, all shiny and new after the crew put in some serious elbow grease. You'd never guess it was the same vessel that nearly got turned into driftwood not too long ago.
Speaking of driftwood, I ran into Izabelle on our little nautical adventure, the backstabbing sea harlot herself. When she saw me, she scurried behind Gideon like a cockroach. It would've been funny if I wasn't so pissed off.
Rhyland gave me the lowdown on her little betrayal, how she threw me to the sharks (literally) and left me to deal with Bloodbane's crazy ass all on my own. And while I may not be able to give her the ass-kicking she so richly deserves right now, you better believe her time is coming.
Karma's a bitch, and so am I.
My eye snags on a distant island off in the distance, cornering Serraphatic Cove, and before I know it, I'm playing twenty questions with Gideon.
"Aye, that be Selkie Shores," Gideon informs me, sounding like he's about to launch into a pirate's version of a nature documentary. "The Selkies keep to themselves, and you rarely see 'em at all."
Selkies? Sounds like a brand of designer dog food. "Selkies?" I repeat, hoping for more info. I vaguely remember reading about them in the Book of Aquaria, but apparently, my brain decided to file that information under "Useless Trivia" instead of "Important Magical Creatures."
"Half man, half seal, from what we've gathered," Gideon explains, describing some bizarre genetic experiment gone wrong. "They like to stir up trouble, and we call 'em the dogs of the sea."
Now, I'm even more confused. "Why?" I ask, wondering both about the dog comparison and their reclusive nature.
"They're playful, like dogs," Gideon says with a shrug as if that explains everything. "And the Queen has forced 'em to stay on their island, or else they'll be hunted for sport and killed on sight."
Well, that escalated quickly. I mean, talk about an overreaction. What did these seal people do, pee in Cordelia's royal swimming pool?
I squint at the distant island, trying to catch a glimpse of these mythical creatures. But unless they're waving giant "Hello, we're Selkies!" signs, I'm not seeing squat.
This whole situation is fishier than a tuna cannery. Why are they exiled? What could these adorable seal people possibly do that's so terrible? In our world, seals are water puppies. Here, they're treated like the plague with flippers.
Since I was the designated blood donor for this trip—Seraphina wasn't quite ready to share her angelic juice yet, which is understandable.
Lucian, who typically jumps at the chance for his dose, whined like a toddler and insisted he should only drink from his mate now.
Rhyland, ever the supportive brother, agreed, but I had to step in and tell him to quit bitching.
We are on a tight schedule and need to get a move on.
After some grumbling and eye-rolling, Lucian finally caved and took his dose.
Of course, because nothing can ever be easy, I had to do it the old-fashioned way, with a knife, some glasses, and Rhyland playing nurse. It was like a fucked-up version of a tea party, only with more blood and less crumpets.
Erik, my favorite silver fox, managed to snag my daggers from the tavern on that fateful night of my impromptu pirate adventure. He's been keeping them safe like some weapon-hoarding dragon.
He hands them over with a hint of a smile. "I am of the opinion that these are rightfully yours, Little Huntress."
I can't help but throw my arms around him in a bear hug.
Erik might act all stoic and broody, but deep down, he's just a big softie.
Moments like these remind me why he's the badass big brother I never knew I needed.
Who else would think to rescue my weapons while I'm off getting kidnapped by pirates?
That's some next-level thoughtfulness right there.
Erik, Seraphina, and Lucian have decided to stay on the ship and wait for us to return—no need to bring everyone on this treasure hunt.
Rhyland and I pile into the dinghy, the small boat creaking ominously under our combined weight.
As we row towards shore, the island seems to come alive. Birds I'd never seen before swoop overhead, their calls a strange mix of melodic and haunting. The air grows thick with the scent of exotic flowers and salt spray, making my head spin.
When my feet touch the sand, a jolt goes through me, like I've stepped on a live wire.
The beach is unlike anything I've ever seen—sand so white it is almost blinding, dotted with seashells in colors I didn't even know existed in nature.
Palm trees sway in a breeze I can't feel, their leaves whispering secrets in a language I can't understand but somehow feel I should know.
I turn to share my awe, only to find Rhyland frozen in place, his expression a mix of wonder and wariness. My unflappable Viking vampire looks like he's seen a ghost—or maybe something even more unsettling.
That's when I hear it—a beautiful song that makes my heart ache, carried on a wind that shouldn't exist. As one, we turn towards the source of the sound, and I feel my breath catch in my throat.
The most breathtaking creature I've ever seen is perched on a rock in the pool at the bottom of the mountains.
A mermaid, with skin that shimmers like mother-of-pearl and hair so red and vibrant, bounces like living seaweed.
When her eyes meet mine, they are the same impossible blue as the water around us.
I can tell she's a mermaid just by looking at her.
For one—she doesn't have those telltale shark fins running down her back like some aquatic mohawk.
And her voice, while easy on the ears, doesn't have that creepy, mind-controlling vibe that sirens are known for.
You know, the kind that makes you want to jump off a cliff or allow some sexy siren with abs for days to clamp a tracker around your neck?
She dives into the water, vanishing beneath the surface, and we start walking towards the massive oceanic pool that dominates the island's center. Suddenly, she's there again, popping up like a curious little mermaid, her expression a mix of intrigue and wariness.
"Hello," I say, plastering on my most charming, 'I'm not here to cause trouble' grin. "I'm Dani." I introduce myself, channeling my inner Disney princess and trying not to break into song. "You must be Ariel?" I can't help but snicker as Rhyland chuckles beside me, clearly on the same wavelength.
Seriously, this chick is like a walking, swimming advertisement for the Little Mermaid. She's got the whole package—fiery red hair, porcelain skin that's probably never seen a blemish, and even a damn bra made of pearls.
Her tail? It's like someone took a handful of glitter and a bucket of turquoise paint and just went to town. The scales shimmer in the water like a disco ball, catching the light and throwing it back in a dazzling display of aquatic fabulousness.
Her torso and arms are covered in sporadic patches of glittery scales—like she rolled around in a vat of glue and then took a swan dive into a pool of sequins.
"No, I am Mirella," she states flatly, her tone about as warm as a polar bear's ass. "Why are you here?" She looks pissed like we just crashed her private beach party and ate all the shrimp cocktails.
I play nice, putting on my most charming, disarming smile. "I'm sorry to bother you, but I'm here to find something—a key. Maybe you might know where I can start?"
Now that I think about it, Calypso gave me fuck-all regarding directions. Gideon mentioned something about an underwater cave, but that's about as helpful as a fart in a windstorm.
Mirella bobs in the water, flicking her tail in what I can only assume is mermaid for 'I'm getting real tired of your shit.' But then, her expression softens a bit, like maybe she's decided we're not complete assholes after all. "No one is allowed on this Island? Did the Queen send you?"
Shit.
I know she's talking about Cordelia, but what should I say? 'No, actually, the sea witch sent me, and I'm under a Coral Pact, so lead the way, fish girl?'
Yeah, I don't think that's going to fly.
But she didn't specify which queen, and Calypso seems to have crowned herself the new Queen Bitch of the Seven Seas, so I figure a little white lie can't hurt.
"Yup, she sure did," I say, crossing my fingers behind my back like a kid trying to get out of trouble.
I know the merfolk are under Cordeila's rule just as the Sirens are under Calypso's rule—the war of the fishes.
Rhyland shoots a wave of unease down our bond, clearly not thrilled with my lying to this poor, unsuspecting mermaid. I quickly send him an 'I got this' vibe, hoping he'll trust me to handle this without blowing our cover.
I wait for Mirella to respond, my heart flip-flopping in my chest. Come on, little mermaid, take the bait. Mama's got a key to find and a realm to save, chop-chop!
"What is that on your head? A tiara? It's beautiful. I want to hold it," Mirella states, reaching out with a gleam in her eye that sets off all kinds of alarm bells in my head.
I quickly back up, holding my hands up in a 'whoa there' gesture. "Uh, sorry. It doesn't come off." I mentally kick myself for not thinking to hide the damn thing before we set foot on this island.
Way to go, Dani. Might as well have painted a big old target on my forehead.