It Shouldn’t Exist
Chapter Eight
It Shouldn’t Exist
SADIE
My first breath of air burns. Fucking burns.
Water rushes up my throat the moment my lungs try to pull in air, and it sure as hell isn’t pleasant. I roll onto my side and vomit, ocean water spilling across the stone slab with each heave.
My chest spasms again, and bright-white spots burst across my vision. The room is cold, but sweat pebbles along my hairline and drips down my back.
This is the part where I die. It’s finally happening.
More water pours out of my lungs, my body convulsing as it tries to decide whether I’m breathing air or drowning all over again. My eyes burn. My throat burns. Fucking everything burns.
I cough until my ribs ache and my vision swims.
After what feels like hours but is probably only a few seconds, I finally draw in a real breath.
Air. It’s cold and painful, but it’s air.
I push myself up on shaky elbows, my head hanging as I suck in greedy lungfuls. I’m not sure how I breathed underwater, but I definitely prefer air.
Water drips from my hair and clothes, pooling beneath me on the stone slab. The chamber smells faintly metallic, like salt and blood. Even the air feels thicker.
I can already tell my hair is a knotted, tangled mess, but that’s the least of my concerns at the moment. I’m more interested in knowing how the hell I’m still alive and what Kyros has done to my family. He was covered in blood, and I’m no fool.
He pushed me overboard, for fuck’s sake. He was trying to kill me. Is that what he did to Dad and Tipper? The thought is too painful to bear.
I breathe in, then exhale. Again and again until the air no longer scrapes like broken glass through my lungs.
Kyros watches, half-submerged in the water beside the stone slab. His crimson tail is drifting slowly behind him, the petal-like fins occasionally bursting above the surface.
He aimlessly flicks the remnants of my vomit away before approaching the stone, resting his forearms on the edge. I press my lips together, fighting back a scream as he cocks his head to the side, watching me with unsettling focus.
I can’t make out his emotions. He doesn’t look smug or angry. If anything, he seems confused.
“You should be dead,” he finally says.
I’m relieved to hear him speak English—no more clicks and chirps.
I stare at him, my chest still heaving.
“Fuck you,” I spit.
His eyes narrow slightly before he continues. “This depth should’ve crushed your lungs. Humans can’t survive it.”
They also can’t breathe underwater, yet here I am. Apparently full of surprises today.
Kyros lowers his gaze to my legs. I tuck them underneath me and fix my shorts, covering myself.
“You have no tail,” he notes.
“Very observant.”
I wipe my mouth with the back of my hand. I’m just as confused as Kyros. I should be dead, and I don’t have the slightest idea why I’m not.
Kyros studies me, unmoving and silent.
“You’re not Mer,” he eventually says. “But you’re not human, either.”
I swallow, my throat still burning. “It would seem I’m not.”
The faint glow of the algae lining the room flickers softly around us, and somewhere far above, there’s distant chirping. It sounds angry. These merpeople don’t seem particularly welcoming.
What are they going to do with me? Why bring me here? I’m not sure I want to know.
Kyros’s jaw tightens. “Your father was human, but you…not so much.” He taps his fingers against the stone slab. “Where is your mother?”
“Don’t know.” I wince, rubbing at my eyes. “Your guess is as good as mine.”
She left Dad when I was still just a baby—only a few months old. She gave no indication as to why or where she was going, and neither Dad nor I have heard from her since. I don’t waste my time thinking about her. She chose to leave, and Dad is more than enough.
My throat grows tight as I think of him. Where is he? I’m too afraid to ask.
Kyros pushes away from the stone slab, then does a slow lap of the room. His eyes remain on me the entire time, never once straying. He clearly doesn’t trust me.
The feeling is mutual.
I suppose this explains his anger when we saw that injured whale yesterday. He’s one of the ocean creatures that humans are always killing.
“You don’t know your mother?” he asks.
“No.”
“Humans reproduce with intention.”
I let out a bitter snort. “You’d be amazed how often they don’t.”
Kyros swims back to the platform. “You expect me to believe that you don’t know what you are?”
“Look,” I snap, pushing myself unsteadily to my feet. “An hour ago, I thought mermaids were a bullshit bedtime story my dad told me to amuse himself.” I point to his tail. “You had legs. How?”
Kyros’s gaze darts toward the water behind him, then back to me.
“You have no tail,” he repeats, ignoring my question. “And you breathe water.”
“As we’ve already established. Where did your legs come from? Are they underneath your tail?”
His expression darkens. “It’s impossible.”
My temper finally bubbles over. I lunge for Kyros, grabbing his shoulders and shoving him down into the water. I’m not sure why I try. It’s not like I can drown the man—even if I want to.
Kyros grabs my wrist, then yanks me forward. I tumble straight into his chest, our bodies colliding.
Water sloshes around us, and Kyros immediately stiffens as I flatten against him, my knees slamming against his tail.
I’m surprised to find it warm and pliable, not cold and slimy, as I assumed it would be.
The muscle beneath the scales flexes against my knees, and something about the movement sends a strange shiver up my spine.
It’s so…unnatural.
Kyros makes a sharp noise in the back of his throat, like the contact physically hurts him. His other hand grabs my upper arm to steady me, and his throat bobs as his gaze lowers down my body.
I look down just in time to see a jolt of red veining flash up his torso. What the—
Kyros tosses me back onto the stone slab, not much gentler than before. I land hard on my ass.
“What the hell is wrong with you?” I hiss.
Kyros drags a hand down his face. “You should not exist…”
“That’s not a particularly helpful answer.”
He ignores me.
“You’re either human,” he continues. “Or Mer. Never both.”
I swallow. “Where’s my dad?”
Kyros doesn’t answer. Ice creeps down my spine.
“Where is he?” I repeat.
Kyros stares at the stone slab, showing it more interest than it deserves. He’s avoiding my question. He presses his lips together, and when he looks back up, his eyes are colder.
He shrugs, water rippling around his shoulders. “He was searching for us.”
“Yeah.” I let out a bitter laugh. “That’s been his hobby for twenty-something years.”
Kyros doesn’t smile. “It’s my duty to protect my people.”
No.
It feels like the cavern is closing in on me. The lightly pulsing algae casts moving shadows along the walls, making me nauseous. I sink to my knees, pressing my palms against the cold stone.
“What did you do?” My voice is weak.
Kyros offers only silence.
I shake my head. “No.”
“I’m sorry.”
My chest caves inward. I see Dad—standing on the deck with the wind in his hair, laughing when I beat him at cards, his wide grin when he finds something interesting on the sonar.
“No.” I squeeze my eyes shut. “Tipper?”
“Dead.”
“No.”
I fold inward, wrapping my arms around my torso and pressing my forehead against the cold stone. A pained cry echoes through the chamber, and for a moment, I forget how to breathe. They didn’t deserve that. They were good men.
“They were fishermen,” I say. My voice is hoarse. “My dad studied the ocean. He loved it.”
“That’s why he was dangerous.”
I shake my head. “You killed him for believing in mermaids.”
“He found us. He was heading toward a nearby pod.”
The distant chirps and clicks grow louder, and the water in the chamber ripples. Kyros’s posture changes. He pushes off the stone and straightens up, his back stiff.
What now?
Kyros turns toward the cavern entrance. Shapes move beneath the surface, and the water parts as three merpeople emerge from the depths. They rise from the water like something summoned from a nightmare. Fucking terrifying.