Chapter 19
Grayson
Grayson gaped at the Alpha as if struck. Keld’s bronze fins flattened against his skull, conveying some feeling Grayson was ill-equipped to read.
“You want to… have dinner with me?”
Keld waved a hasty palm at him. “I just mean we both need to eat, and I’m driving you home anyway, so…”
Right. We already tried the whole date thing and that went spectacularly. He’s just being nice, don’t read into it.
Grayson cleared his throat and dove into his t-shirt, buying precious seconds to formulate a response.
“Yeah, sure.” Now he was trying too hard to sound casual. “Just, like… a drive-thru?”
Keld wrinkled his nose. “How cheap do you think I am? There’s a really good Usoi’e-Japanese and Korean fusion place on the way back to Sandpiper Park. Have you been?”
Grayson shook his head. “Jenna keeps trying to convince me to go, but I’ve never been much of an adventurous eater.”
“Ah, you’ll love it.”
Grayson averted his eyes when Keld stood and stretched, but nothing could stop his periphery from noting the way the Mer’s abs pulled taut. Keld dug a loose pair of shorts and t-shirt from his bag, discarded in a corner of the room.
Grayson watched the Mer’s tail retract, pulling into his elongated spine. He probably ought to have been used to the sight, but it never ceased to throw him off. It looked so uncomfortable.
“Ready?” Keld asked, oblivious to the eyes on him. He tugged the shorts on and covered his torso with the thin, white t-shirt. It draped in a way that flawlessly hinted at the broad muscles and narrowed waist underneath.
Grayson sighed. “Yeah, let’s go.”
A familiar burn crept up Grayson’s neck as they slipped out into the main room of Siren. Kir winked at Keld from the bar, and Grayson grimaced.
“Still embarrassed to be seen with me?” Keld’s tone was light but something edged his usual nonchalance.
“Not everything is about you,” Grayson said, the joke falling flat. “I don’t like all these people looking at me and knowing what we’ve been doing.”
Keld laughed. “They’re all here for the exact same thing, you know.”
“I know that rationally.”
The midsummer sun was drifting toward the horizon, bathing Miami in golden light. It glittered off Keld’s scales and refracted off his burning eyes. A pang shot through Grayson’s chest.
“You okay?”
Grayson jumped, immediately dropping his gaze to the car door—the same color as the Alpha’s scales. “Yep. Let’s eat.”
The restaurant was a ten minute drive from Siren’s Rest—a drive spent in a more uncomfortable silence than usual.
“Are you sure you’re okay?” Keld asked eventually. “Was that scene too much? Did I hurt you?”
Grayson shook his head. “No, no, nothing like that. I’m good, seriously. Just tired.”
Keld shot him a look that clearly called bullshit, but the Alpha didn’t press him.
By the time the car pulled into the restaurant, Grayson had never been more relieved to get out of a vehicle.
The building’s interior was an explosion of opalescent abalone shell and black lacquer. Each table was inlaid with artwork depicting coral reefs, fish, crabs, and creatures Grayson had never seen before. He barely heard the server as she took them to their seats.
Even the chairs featured spiraling fish and fins, glinting with rainbows in the cool light of the restaurant. Grayson perched in the chair, unwilling to park his sinful ass upon something so beautiful.
“Pretty, isn’t it?” Keld had been watching him.
“It’s amazing,” Grayson admitted. “I get why Jenna was so hellbent on hauling me over here.”
One of Keld’s bronze fingers traced a shell-wrought creature at the center of their table. “Do you know what this is?”
The animal had a long, ribbon-like body and a wide mouth filled with long, needle-sharp teeth. His first instinct was to say “eel,” but then he noticed the tendrils emanating from either side of its jaw. A pair of fins appears to be pressed flat to its sides, ending in claws—or were they arms?
Keld smirked at the look on Grayson’s face. “It’s an irgox. They’re a kind of stealth predator on Usoi. They live in the deepest parts of the ocean, so most Mer never saw them, but if you did happen to come across one, you were already dead.”
Grayson shuddered. “That’s terrifying, why would you tell me that?”
“I like the face you make when you’re horrified.”
Grayson glared up at him, but Keld’s grin didn’t waver. “I like that face, too.”
Grayson rolled his eyes and flipped the menu open. Sashimi, sushi, kimbap, udon, ramen, bulgogi, all the standard fare on the left side. But the right…
The page was marked with the blunt, intersecting lines of Loaish. Even the numbers were incomprehensible to Grayson.
“I’ve never seen so much Loaish before,” Grayson murmured. “I mean, I see signs and warnings and stuff, but…”
“It’s getting rarer with each generation,” Keld agreed quietly. “And as more humans come to Paeil.”
Grayson winced. “I’m sorry.”
“For what? It was our choice to come here, and our choice to use your species to save ours.” Keld shrugged. “If anything, I’m sorry.”
“Still… I’d hate to see the Mer lose even more of their home…”
Something shifted in Keld’s gaze. Grayson stared back, trying in vain to read it.
“There’s an initiative,” the Alpha said at last. “Over on the Southeast Asian Mermade Islands. They’re working on a proposal to make Loaish an international second language, for both humans and Mer.”
“Seriously?” The mental rainclouds lifted from Grayson’s mind. “That’s a great idea! I think we tried that once though…”
“You did. The difference is, Esperanto had no native speakers and no real reason for people to need to learn it. With Mer islands all over the world, and the integration between our species, there’s a lot more motivation for people to pick up Loaish.”
Grayson brightened. “I hope that’s true.”
Before Keld could respond, their server returned.
“What can I get for you?” she asked politely. She was a nondescript human woman, though Grayson didn’t think serving jobs were part of the Omega work program. It was always intriguing to spot another human in the wilds of Miami, and wonder what it was that had brought them there.
“I’ll have the nefuin’e jangeo’diae mapir’e naoak’kas kelp feuit,” Keld said, scanning the menu.
Grayson watched in surprise as the woman deftly scrawled the Loaish terms into her notepad.
“And for you?” she said, looking up at Grayson.
“Uh.” Grayson hastily bent his head, eyes darting across the page for something he recognized. “The fried shrimp udon?”
“Anything to drink?” she asked, writing his order below Keld’s.
“A gose for me,” Keld said. “Grayson?”
“Water’s fine,” Grayson said quickly.
“He’ll have the hot sake.” Keld smirked over at him.
“One nefuin’e jangeo’diae mapir’e naoak’kas kelp feuit with a gose, and one fried shrimp udon with hot sake,” the server repeated. “It’ll get that started for you.” Her Loaish sounded flawless to Grayson’s untrained ear. He wished it was appropriate to ask people how they ended up in Paeil.
As the server walked off, Keld raised an eyebrow. “Why do you look so baffled?”
“She knows Loaish! I thought humans weren’t allowed to learn it yet.”
Technically, the Mer and humans were at peace, but the tension between the species was still far too high to allow potential rebel groups to gain an understanding of the Mer’s communications.
Until the Mer could be certain of their safety, humans were limited to basic workplace vocabulary, which Grayson still struggled to remember.
“She’s probably mated,” Keld said. “Mer mates don’t have the language restriction. Same with kids educated in Paeil.”
“What?” Grayson’s jaw dropped. “I never knew that.”
“It’s not exactly advertised.”
“But why? Isn’t that still unsafe? The human Omegas could run off and teach whoever they wanted on the mainland.”
Keld’s expression went grim. “No, they couldn’t.”
Grayson paused. “What do you mean?”
“A mated Omega is physically incapable of running away.”
Something cold slipped into Grayson’s stomach. “What is that supposed to mean?”
“I’m surprised you don’t know this.” Keld leaned forward, elbows resting on the table. “Mating causes a pair to become physiologically dependent on each other’s pheromones. If they spend too long apart, it causes physical pain.”
The blood drained from Grayson’s face. “So they’re stuck together… forever? Like they have to be around each other all the time?”
Keld shook his head. “It gets better with time. After a few months, you can spend a few hours apart, a few years, you can be apart for days, and so on. But if your mate dies… it’s like addiction withdrawal. Sometimes the living mate doesn’t survive.”
“That’s awful,” Grayson whispered. “Do the human Omegas… know?”
Keld looked taken aback. “Of course they know. Their orientation is very thorough in the Mermate program. We aren’t tricking humans into a lifelong bond.”
“Right.” Grayson’s face heated. “Sorry, that was a stupid question.”
“One shrimp udon.” The server’s voice nearly sent Grayson shooting out of his skin. “And nefuin’e jangeo’diae mapir’e naoak’kas kelp feuit. Give me one second and I’ll be right back with your drinks.”
The smell of crispy shrimp and miso paste instantly soothed Grayson’s spiking anxiety. Across the table, Keld had some kind of grilled meat with a side of purple mash and a plate of seaweed salad.
“So,” Grayson said. Why was his voice so high? “What exactly is that?”
Keld scooped up a forkful of the purple substance.
“This is an Usoi tuber called naoak, steamed and mashed with salt. This is jangeo.” He gestured to the curled slices of meat at the center of his place.
“It’s an Earth fish species. We only brought plants when we traveled across the galaxy.
Invasive species and all that. Technically we brought one fish, but they’re for cleaning scales, not eating. ”
“Jangeo? I’ve never heard of it.” It smelled good at least.
“Try a bite, it’s really good.” Keld held out a speared bit of fish.
Grayson eyed it apprehensively. “I told you, I’m not the most adventurous eater…”
“If you don’t like it, I’ll never make you try anything ever again. In terms of food,” he added with a wicked smile.
Grayson leaned forward and took the proffered bite. He expected to gag, but the fish was actually delicious.
“See?” Keld’s tone was smug. “Told you.”
“I can’t believe I’ve never heard of it,” Grayson said, picking up a set of chopsticks.
He’d arrived to Miami completely incapable of using them, having always eaten his Chinese takeout with a fork.
This had disgusted Jaeyong so much that he’d sat Grayson down in his kitchen and forced him to eat an entire plate of spaghetti using nothing but the flat, metal chopsticks favored in Korea.
Grayson’s hand ached for days after, but at least he could manage the disposable wooden ones now.
“There’s an English word for jangeo, but I can’t think of it…
” Keld popped a bit of the fish into his mouth, his eyes unfocused.
“The English word was gross, so we borrowed the word from Korea. It’s one of the only human countries that eat it…
” Suddenly, he slapped his hand on the table. “Hagfish! That’s what it’s called.”
Grayson choked on a noodle. “Hagfish? The one that turns itself into a glob of snot when you touch it?”
“That’s the one!” Keld sighed and returned to his naoak. “That was going to bother me.”
“I cannot believe you fed me snot fish.” Grayson’s stomach roiled. “I’m never letting you feed me again.”
“You liked it before I told you what it was,” Keld pointed out.
“Completely irrelevant.”