A Mermaid's Cry

Chapter 39-Wolves in Sheep's Clothing

"Mother of the Gods!" the human shouts, as Ares throws him onto Madame Costa's floor. "I done told ya who I was, now you think I'm just some barrel to be tossed around!"

He glares through bushy brows up at us, me holding open the door and Ares looming over him like a shroud. Those beady eyes of his widen, when a tired growl threads through the air.

"And you will be a dead man walking if you keep up the shouting," Octavia mutters, rising from the couch opposite Adila with a menacing gleam to her eyes. One by one, the rest of the group wakes as she strides over on thin legs, and lifts the human up off the floor by the back of his jacket. "So I suggest you shut your trap, or I will see it sewed up with your entrails."

"Oh give it a rest Tavi," Zola cuts in, sidling up to her in nothing but a pair of cotton undershorts.
"He is nothing but a very good friend of Madame Costa's. So how about you set Drago down, and when we get to town I'll buy you an ale."

Like magic, Octavia drops Drago on the floor unharmed. Flipping back her short hair, she nudges Zola out of the way with her shoulder and settles herself back on the couch. But not before shooting the cocky male, a mischievous grin.

"Are you done torturing the poor bastard yet?" Arcus groans, stretching out his back, making a series of pops sound from the grinding bones.
A yawn passes his lips, just as a pillow hits the back of his head. My cousin's eyes go flinty, sharp and unyielding as he slowly turns around to a smiling Adila, running a hand through her cloud of coiled hair.

"Enough talk of torture," Adila utters, unhurriedly getting to her feet. "If what I remember from our hostess, we will be leaving as soon as she wakes up. So you three males and the human, will need to step outside if us females are to get appropriately dressed."

Arcus shakes his head, hiding a grin as Adila walks right up to him meeting his gaze. It would be almost comical seeing them square up like two prowling leopards, if it weren't for the obvious heated tention flaring between them.

"Something funny Arcus?" Adila mutters, stepping closer and forcing my cousin up against the wall.

"No Adila," Arcus answers with a slight teasing tone, squaring his shoulders to put on a show of indifference. "But if you require any help with dressing, I wouldn't mind assisting you in the slightest."

The air in the room stills, and Adila for once is left stunned as Arcus twists away from her with a satisfied smirk on his face, with Zola hot on his heels. I swiftly move out of the way, as the males leave the room with Zola dragging Drago by the arm. With shaking hands I close the door, my stomach clenching at my cousin's abrupt and unnerving reply. Arcus doesn't usually get riled up easily, but now that I recall the past few days, it seems Adila and him have been at odds with each other from the start. A conundrum that I will need my friend to explain sooner rather than later.

"Well that was, exciting," Octavia utters, getting up off the couch before heading over to the chest pushed against the left hand wall. "But I think it would be wise to get dressed. Those corset things are gonna take some time to put on."

"And they will be pain to keep on," I growl, making my friends chuckle evilly at my expense, as they pull out our cumbersome disguises.
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My presumption with the corset was correct, although I had watched my friends put them on with ease. It did not help me feel any better, when Adila yanked hard on the stays of the mud brown corset. Caging my stomach in an almost immovable vice like pressure.

"By the Mothers these humans are mad," I hiss,  recovering my breath as I settle down onto the worn chair cushion. It is quiet difficult to do so, with my feet encased in stockings and shoes. My back forced to stay straight from the solid material and the blades in the hidden slits of the corset. Not to mention the brown cloth of the skirt, tangling around my legs and dagger sheaths.

"Well you do have to admit, the clothes are gorgeous," Octavia chitters, twirling around in a black skirt and dark blue corset hugging her willowy frame.

I roll my eyes, feeling ridiculous enough with the long sleeves on my arms. Along with the ruffles itching my wrists, a cumbersome sensation when compared to the two dagger sheaths encasing my skinny arms. While the sash round my hips, squeezes right down to my bones.

"Well that's a matter of opinion now isn't it," Adila huffs, straightening the red sash wrapped around her midnight skirt. "Come on, we better get going. According to what Madame Costa told me last night, it will take a good part of the day to reach the town."

As if hearing her words, the bedroom door bursts open. Revealing Madame Costa in a simple cotton dress of green, with a white lace shawl upon her boney shoulders. "Well now," Madame Costa says, smiling in content upon seeing us in our human garb. "Don't you all look lovely, and if I'm correct the humans should be distracted enough to think you young lasses are harmless as rabbits."

"Not unless they get too close," Adila chuckles, sliding a thin knife out from the side panel of her corset.

"Of course dear, now come on," Madame Costa says, walking past us while passing out white lace shawls for us to wear.

After putting on the shawls and securing our weapons. We follow the spry woman outside, where the males and Drago have a cart, mules, and baskets ready for departure. I spy Ares first, dressed in a white shirt, brown pants, and knee high leather boots. Arcus helps him lift another basket heaped with seabed rocks. His muscles straining under the cotton shirt and black striped vest. Zola watches from the sidelines, munching on an apple the same color as his maroon shirt.

Like us, the males each have a sash tied round their waists. A piece of fabric, that I find to be mere decorative than functional. As we reach the wagon, the males finish pushing the basket into the cart. After which, Arcus spies us with those ever perceptive brown eyes of his.

"Well, aren't you a sight for sore-."
My cousin is unable to finish, choosing instead to save himself from Adila's dagger. Dodging away in the nick of time, forcing the blade to sink into the wooden side of the cart. We laugh as Arcus gets up from the ground, brushing off his pants and boots while glaring at Adila full on.

"Was that really necessary?" Zola crows, polishing off his apple and chucking the core into the bushes behind him.

"Come closer and you'll find out," I answer, slipping a hand into my skirt pocket, and producing a leather garrote bracelet before his eyes.

Zola swallows nervously as I reveal the garrote wire, jerking it tight with my hands. Wisely, the males stop their teasing and allow us to climb up into the cart. A cart soon crowded with six long legged Mer, crates, baskets, and our travel bags. Drago is lucky, getting to be perched on the driver's seat with Madame Costa. Not wedged in the tropical heat, between my cousin and Adila grumbling back and forth under their breaths.

Not only that, I was somehow positioned facing Ares. Where he is now able to get a good look at my disguise, and the corset pushing up my breasts. So that the tops of them are only slightly covered by the shift I'm now sweltering in. The heat of my cheeks, only adds to the discomfort of the cart bumping along the ruts in the road. Along with cramping legs, bugs coming after our skin, and the growing dread of facing the humans responsible for my brother's capture.