A Mermaid's Cry

Chapter 42-The Wrath of a Sister

🍃I profusely apologize about the lack of updates for this book. I've been focusing on getting ready to enter my third year of college in the fall, and preparing for my trip to visit family up north.

I hope to get some more inspiration to continue writing this book. Any theories you may have for plot devices and characters, would be amazing to see. I know I constantly state this throughout the book, but hearing different ideas is the best way for me to create a more diverse and interesting cast and story.🌴

Till then, lots of love to all my readers, and I hope you all continue this journey with me.😊🖤🥀

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I've never seen Ares move so fast, or Octavia for that matter. Mere seconds after the hunters stormed into the gloomy room, they had me ducking my head and settled quickly at an empty table shrouded in shadows, at the back left corner of the room. The rest of our group scuttled over, masking their anger into human faces of fright.

None pointed us out, nor dare utter a word from sheer fright, as Drake Norzem prowled up to his father. The older man stood still, riddled with sweat, and masked fury at my brother being dragged forward on bruised legs. Unlike Norzem's sire, I was shaking, trembling, and hungering for blood. But my friends were wiser than I, Octavia immediately had stuffed my hair up into the bonnet. Adila had sat down on my right, holding my hand while Ares firmly clamped his fingers around my forearms.

Arcus and Zola, then sat down on either side of Octavia as she found a chair. Both of them, keeping her from lunging at the foul man, and joining in on my murderous rage. Zola even took care in discreetly waving over a barmaid, who then plopped down a wooden mug of ale for each of us. A wise decision to keep our shaky cover alive and well. Now from our corner, I watch this despicable man amble up to the bar under my lashes as I take small measured sips of the bitter brew.

"A fine day isn't old man?" Norzem quips, resting a heavily ringed hand upon the bar top. "I hear that you have been dealing with that Costa woman again, and her motley collection of strange lads."

The barkeep just shrugs his shoulders, hiding the trembling rage in his hands by wiping down the bar with a frayed rag. "Yes indeed, the old biddy pays me good coin to help 'em out," the man replies, grabbing a mug and wiping it down with the rag. "Besides, I wouldn't call them strange, just different is all. But I'll tell you, what they lack in coin they make up for by giving me a hand, once in a while."

Norzem's eyes go dark like sharp flint, and his lips curl back in a bone clenching sneer.
Not one word of discontent flows from our group, or any of the other humans in the room. No one dares make even a single sound, lest this dangerous man turns his rage on someone else. Out of the corner of my eye, I spy Octavia trembling with rage and her face white with fury. Forcing Zola and Arcus, to move their chairs as close to her as possible. To my surprise, Adila stays stock still, calm and cold as the water that flows down from the highest point on our island home. So different from me, a bubbling, frothing cauldron of magma and heat.

Unconsciously, I grip hard on the handle of the mug, enough for my keen ears to hear the slight crack of splintering wood. My blood boils in my veins, as the foul creature grabs hold of the barkeep's wrist. While my poor brother is forced to watch this disgusting human, slam his father's wrist onto the bar with a sickening thunk of flesh and wood.

Rage burns anew in my body, and as if he has developed a sixth sense to my ever-changing moods. Ares pries my fingers from the mug, and settles his hand upon mine. Pinning it gently on the table, while his other hand settles upon my right shoulder. "Easy there treasure," Ares whispers in my ear, distracting me from the gut wrenching sight, and my own dangerous instinct to will the boards beneath Norzem's very feet to cave in.

With bated breath, and my other hand being secured by Adila's, I listen closely to the human's next sickening words.

"A likely story," Norzem growls, as the barkeep scrunches his face in pain. "A perfectly believable one to, if they were not like this one here. Feral, lethal, and devoid of any shred of humanity."

Releasing the man's arm, Norzem unholsters his gun and levels it right in front of my brother's bruised face. Dread enters my belly, slick and cold as an animal like growl emanates from Lucas. His eyes turning dark in instinctual fear, his teeth lengthening into flesh tearing daggers. Triumph flares in Norzem's eyes, as human shrieks and shouts of fright fill the room.

"This little sea creature maybe younger than those lads Costa has helping you, but my men have watched them very closely. Enough to know they don't talk like us, act like us, or even think like us. Long enough that on sight, they know which ones they are. Even if the monsters hide behind human skin, thinking we don't know what they truly are."

Holstering the gun, Norzem signals the brute to drag my brother out the door. "With what I've told you, I would suggest that you tell me where the rest of them are," Norzem adds with an almost cordial air. "Or else you might not see another sunrise, and it would take just one word from me."

Something in me snaps, like a bowstring pulled so taut that it breaks underneath the pressure. I shouldn't care about the old human, shouldn't care about the sorrow and horror encroaching on his face as Norzem laughs cold and hard, but I do. I do, and it stokes the fire brimming inside me even more.

Strength that I did not know I possessed, floods my limbs as I stand up from my seat. Wrenching my arms away from Ares and Adila, heedless of the chair clamoring on the floor. I see red as Norzem and the burly man head for the door, dragging Lucas away. Away from me, away from the ones who don't wish to use him for malicious gain. The ones who love him more than life itself.

My brother that I held when I was barely three. A baby I watched and cared for, when my parents were busy providing for us. The child I told stories to by lantern light, making shadow pictures on the wall with my hands. The young lad that does not deserve to be manhandled in such a horrid way.

My legs take me toward Norzem, my hands reach for the knives underneath my sleeves. My breath comes fast and quick through my nose, and my eyes paint a mental target on the Mer hunter's neck. I ignore my friends coming up behind me, all I care about is Lucas frightened beyond all measure. Shaking as he is being led away, shouting when Norzem turns around and levels the gun against my cheek.

"Hello Drake," I croon, smiling slightly in almost feral glee as my voice takes on a harmonic tone. "I believe you have something of mine and I want it back."

I watch his eyes glaze over, and the gun drop away from my face and onto the floor. "Good man," I sneer, adding a melodic lilt to my voice. "Now, take this knife and slit that lovely throat of yours."