Chapter Four
Austin pushed a massacred omelette around his plate.
“Where is he now?” The flash of appetite from yesterday had deserted him quickly, anxiety over what the day might bring spoiling his willingness to fill his stomach.
It didn’t bode well for the amount of food Liam had bought to fill the cupboards and fridge.
Liam eyed Austin’s untouched meal, his own plate empty. “Why don’t you eat first—”
Austin tossed his cutlery carelessly onto the plate and thrust the dish away from him. He fixed a pointed stare on Liam, who frowned at the rejected food.
“You can try a bite and see if the recipe is okay at least. It’s plain, the way you like it.”
The baiting was so obvious that Austin didn’t even respond.
Liam pulled the dish in front of himself, surveying the mutilated remains. “You could keep a run of chickens fed with the amount of food you scrape into the bin.”
“Where is Wilbur?”
Liam sighed. “Wicklow, in Carnew town.”
Apprehension prickled through Austin’s gut.
“My old boarding school? What is he doing there?” Austin hadn’t set foot in the place since Cessair dragged Connor back to the lab for close monitoring.
Cessair had enjoyed fashioning creative chains that would ensure Connor couldn’t escape him, even if he wasn’t technically locked up in a lab.
That had been what Cessair originally wanted to do.
Austin had talked him out of it, and to this day, he still didn’t know how.
Austin’s voice never worked on Cessair. His working theory was that Cessair had lacked a heart to corrupt.
“Investigating is my guess, not that it will prove fruitful. All your classmates have graduated, and the teachers know better than to talk about you,” Liam said.
They ran the risk of Austin unleashing a tsunami of Cessair’s assets on them if they did, and he’d made damn sure last year that they knew it.
“After that, I’d guess Wilbur will either track down former classmates or try to find you himself.”
How hard would that be? Austin’s residence wasn’t listed anywhere, and though the surrounding lands belonged to him, as far as state records were concerned, they still belonged to the farmers who had sold them.
But though this cottage was off-grid—the only person who knew of its existence sitting opposite him—his regular presence in the seaside town just next door was known.
He could circumvent that by never going into town ever again.
Living the rest of his life within these four walls.
“Connor will be easy to find.”
Liam brought their dirty dishes to the sink. “He’s usually off gallivanting, isn’t he?”
Gallivanting wasn’t the right word. Austin had spied Connor from a distance many times, and his adventures typically led to his nose buried in a book as he lounged somewhere or other on the ocean.
Austin had got furiously bored watching him on several occasions, while his new merman boyfriend had basked in his presence, usually with his head resting on Connor’s lap.
Austin decided not to correct Liam’s word choice. “Annoyingly often, yes,” he muttered.
Hands in the sink, Liam peered over his shoulder and studied Austin’s face.
That single look was enough for Austin to read the question, and he sneered at the man.
“I’m not stalking him,” he denied angrily.
“I can just feel when he’s not in this world.
It makes me want to tear my skin off.” To alleviate the feeling, Austin had to either drink himself unconscious or travel through that thing after him.
Liam’s steady gaze didn’t falter. “That’s where you disappeared to.”
It was a statement, not a question, so Austin didn’t bother responding. He stalked to the stereo and turned the volume up so high a headache bloomed behind both eyes. Liam’s curse was lost to the noise, and he quickly flicked water off his hand and turned the volume right back down.
“What is blowing out our eardrums meant to accomplish?” Liam asked, put out as he rubbed circles beneath each ear.
“I won’t have to listen to you anymore.”
“What’s it like?” Liam ignored the ill-tempered remark, the same way he seemed determined to ignore everything else ill-tempered about Austin.
“Hot.”
“I figured that much at least. That’s why this area was always a biodiverse hotspot—the warm water flowing in from ‘there’.” Liam dropped his arms and leaned back against the counter. There was a spark of genuine curiosity in his eyes. “There are people?”
“There are more monsters than people,” Austin allowed.
“Mermen?”
“Some.” Austin’s mouth twisted.
“Where did you stay?”
“There’s a city a few miles from the Tear. I stayed in that.”
“Where exactly? Not on the street.”
Unbidden, Austin’s cheeks heated. He turned sharply away from Liam. “None of your business.” As he spoke, he swore he smelled sweet hay, felt its itchy dust in his nose.
Liam’s stare was pointed. Austin shoved the volume dial up again. He was out the front door and halfway to the path leading to the ocean before Liam called out after him.
“There’s leftovers in the fridge for you whenever you’re hungry.”
Austin stopped on the path. He turned, a niggling thought that had been bothering him finally surfacing. “Go give someone from Connor’s family a heads-up.”
Given that Liam had helped abduct Connor from his house in the past, that was likely to be a very awkward and tense conversation, and still probably far more productive than if Austin tried to do it.
“I’m here to guard you.”
“Go warn them,” Austin snapped. “It’s not as if I can call them, is it? They live twenty minutes from here, and I’ll be in the ocean the entire time you’re gone.”
If Liam was reluctant, it didn’t show on his impassive face. “Fine. I’ll be quick.”
Austin waved him off and continued down the path.
At the shore, Austin shrugged off his clothes, venturing into the choppy waves.
The sky was filled with clouds, and the ocean was dark, only the lines of white foam breaking up the impenetrable blue.
Austin swam out far enough that when he dove to the ocean floor, the crush of the sea was close to pleasurable against his joints.
He sighed, little air bubbles slipping from his nose and racing to the surface.
Austin was filled with a strong urge to breathe in deeply, to invite the ocean inside his body.
Austin knew he needed air to breathe. He didn’t have gills like the mermen infesting the oceans did, but despite that, he didn’t think a lungful of water would drown him: the ocean wouldn’t dare.
The matriarch slid forth from a cluster of rocks to Austin’s right, gliding seamlessly over the sand, two limbs raised in a greeting curl.
Austin hummed a greeting of his own, and against the current, the water rippled.
Sand lifted from the seabed and resettled in a new pattern, concentric circles radiating out from Austin.
The matriarch’s arms ventured out, exploring the contours he’d made in her territory.
Austin neatly kicked off the seabed, rising to the surface for air.
When he returned, the matriarch was in his spot, several limbs raised as she cycled through poses.
Austin hovered above, watching smaller octopuses emerge from beneath rocks and water weeds to admire the matriarch’s new throne.
The natural current was already pushing against the sand, trying to correct the orientation.
Austin left her to it, swimming several feet deeper into the ocean.
An hour of cycling through dives later, Austin felt he could survive a phone call to Connor if he needed.
He didn’t bother putting on his clothes and walked up the path, shells shifting beneath his bare feet.
He crested the hill to the cottage. A black BMW with no licence plate was parked next to the front door.
An old man stood beside it, gazing thoughtfully at the cardboard window. He wore the same sailing outfit as he had in the photo Tammy had shown Austin yesterday: Wilbur Riley.
“Are you sure this is the right spot?” He had a thick Boston accent.
“Positive!” someone around the corner of the cottage called back. “How many people in Ireland even own a Lexus? Though I’m pretty sure this is rusted in place… Shoot, maybe it’s abandoned?” The other man had a Boston accent too, though not as pronounced and with a youthful bounce.
Wilbur raised a gloved hand and knocked on the front door. “Hello? Mr Cessair?”
The name lanced through Austin’s lungs. A thousand memories whipped through his head at breakneck speed: Needles. Lab coats. Sterile walls. Restraints. Inescapable punishments. Being a subject, a thing.
A young man came around the corner of the house. “Should we try—oh.” The man’s eyes slid past Wilbur to where Austin stood, stark naked on the path. Austin glimpsed a younger, better-looking Wilbur before his features blurred together as Austin whirled on his heel and bolted.
“Wait!” the younger man called.
Barbed branches struck Austin like whips as he rocketed down the path, dropping his clothes as he went. He heard the pursuit behind him, rustling punctuated by cries of, “Dang it”, “Curses” and “Oh bugger this.”
“Help me,” Austin ordered the beach and the ocean, the fear in his blood striking out at the elements.
The ocean surged forward to meet him as the razor shells shook free of the stony beach, readying themselves to strike.
Austin dove while knee-deep, letting himself get caught as the ocean surge drew him away from the beach in a swift, powerful current.
He twisted to watch his pursuer fall down the path, landing on a bed of razors.
The yelp of pain followed Austin out to sea.
The violent current tore him from the shore, and the power that had stirred the ocean to action continued to act upon it, pushing it on and on.
Austin struggled to keep his head above the choppy waves.
Moving against the force of the current was like trying to overpower a giant.
With gruesome effort, he got his face above water, dragged in a breath.
“St—” Water sloshed into his mouth, cutting off the command.
Austin’s head plunged under again, and his body was slow to respond as he fought his way upwards once more. Bubbles obscured his vision as the need to breathe surged and panic set in. Austin tried to claw his way up, but no matter how he fought, he couldn’t breach the surface.
I need air!
Hooks plunged into his neck.
And tore.