Chapter 10

Chapter

Ten

Inviting Nireed to dance had been a mistake. There shouldn't've been any harm in demonstrating a simple two-step, just some innocent fun, but the weight of her arms around his neck, and the slow, sinuous grace of her hips beneath his hands, so responsive to him and the music's rhythm , had fogged his brain.

Dancing had a way of lowering inhibitions, and he should have anticipated that, but this bordered dangerously close to a full-blown, lust-drunk haze. Off one beer, he didn't even have a decent buzz going to blame it on. This was all him.

Was he attracted to the mermaid? Did he want her?

He wasn't sure how he felt about that possibility, not when he didn't know if he'd moved past the fact that she'd helped kill and devour eight fishermen. Or that she'd personally taken out Captain Flick Rockland just because she thought the guy was attacking him.

So Reid put stiff middle school dance distance between them.

It was effective. He'd dumped a bucket of cold water on the moment, and she quickly lost interest, disengaging, and returning to their table.

It was also confusing. Losing her heat and the feel of her curves beneath his palms hollowed out a hole in his chest, like he'd given up something he shouldn't have.

Back at the table, he ordered another beer and asked the server to take away the one they'd left unattended, all the while struggling with what to say. He was afraid to ask Nireed what she thought of dancing after he'd made it spectacularly awkward.

A wave of humid air rushed in as the bar door opened, followed by a surprised, but cheery, "Kruetz?"

Well, shit.

Perez and Hatcher headed their way. Neither had seen Nireed up close before, so maybe the mermaid could pass as a townie, but would that be fucked up to ask her to lie about who and what she was?

Nireed tensed, leaning across the table. "What is it?"

"Friends. Fellow, uh, Coast Warriors. They don't know you can walk on land."

"Do they know what I look like?"

"Don't think so. Not from the helicopter. It's too far away."

Rather than match his panic, she perked up, seemingly interested, but offered no helpful ideas on how to play this off. Great. He was up shit creek without a paddle.

"Hey, guys," he trailed awkwardly, standing up to give Perez a quick one-armed hug. "It's like we live in a small town or something."

"So much for work-life balance," Hatcher joked, clapping him on the shoulder. "Mind if we join you? Or is this a date or something?"

Reid looked to Nireed for help, but she was too busy observing his friends with rapt fascination. Had he told them the mermaid's name? They'd put two and two together right away, if he had. "No, um, I was just showing…her…around."

"Her?" Perez pinned him with an unimpressed, did-you-just-fucking-dare glare. Even Hatcher gave him a funny look. Great, now they thought he was a player.

"Sorry." He swiped a hand over his face and weakly said, "This is Nireed. Nireed this is Alejandra Perez and Jake Hatcher. Both are friends and coworkers of mine."

Then he braced himself.

But their expressions softened, no hint of recognition or outrage. He hadn't told them the mermaid's name, then. They had no idea this was her.

The relief was only temporary. Hiding the truth from them felt like shit, but he couldn't out her, especially not in public. That was a recipe for disaster. Perez might take it well, but Hatcher was more of a wild card.

"Nice to meet you, Nireed." Perez extended her hand.

The mermaid must have observed enough human behavior because she didn't miss a beat taking Perez's hand and shaking it. Hatcher's too.

Both pulled out chairs and sat down. "How'd you two meet?" Perez asked.

When Nireed met his eyes, he noticed a subtle shift in her demeanor. Curiosity had morphed into uncertainty. "Swimming," she trailed, and he nodded eagerly, like it was exactly what he'd just been about to say.

Perez began to ask another question, but Hatcher flagged down the waitress, bringing conversation to a pause. As a new round of drink orders was placed, Reid noticed Nireed staring at something over his shoulder, her complexion paling.

She stood slowly. The movement was so careful, so measured, neither of his friends batted an eye. It easily could've been mistaken for getting up to go to the bathroom, but Reid sensed something was wrong. Bending down, she whispered into his ear, "I need to go. Now. And maybe you should too."

Before he could ask why, she strode out of the bar without another word. No hurried goodbye or even a glance back. He looked over his shoulder, trying to figure out what had spooked her. It couldn't be the dancers, the live band, or the waitstaff slinging drinks.

And then he saw it.

On one of the overhead TVs was a local breaking news report.

Break-in at Nautic warehouse.

B-roll of the docks switched over to a blurry photo of him and Nireed loitering outside the warehouse side entrance. Neither of their faces were visible, but their clothing was certainly identifiable. Nondescript, but identifiable.

Reid quickly shucked off his rain jacket. It was a dime-a-dozen charcoal gray color, but he didn't need anyone making associations, and the green T-shirt he wore underneath felt comfortingly dissimilar.

Next, an interview clip played, featuring the two forklift operators. One had a nasty purple bump on his head, but otherwise appeared fine—eager for his fifteen seconds of limelight even. Reid couldn't hear what he was saying over the bar's live music, but there was closed captioning:

Carl: She must've been a softball player or something. Hit me square in the head with a can of tuna.

Reporter: Did you feel like your life was in danger at any point?

Carl: Nah. They just ran out of there. Didn't even look like they took anything.

Paul: Maybe they were investigative journalists?

Reporter: …

Carl: …

Paul: …

Reporter: What would they have been investigating?

Paul: Uh.

They had no fucking clue. Thank Christ.

Relieved, Reid turned back to his friends, but they were both staring at him hard.

Hatcher pointed at the TV. "What the fuck's going on? Who was that woman we just met, and why are you both on the evening news?"

"Keep your voice down," Reid hissed. "Nireed's a…"

"Journalist? Environmental activist?" Perez supplied. Her tone was light, but she didn't look happy.

"No. She's the mermaid I've been running into."

"Jesus Fuck, man!" Hatcher whisper-yelled. "What are you thinking? You trying to get masted? Kicked out of the Coast Guard?"

"For once, I agree with him." Perez jutted her thumb at Hatcher. "If they can kick us out for smoking weed, they'd sure as shit kick you out for breaking and entering."

"She's desperate. Her people are dying, and she's trying to prove it before more are killed."

Hatcher folded his arms. "Okay, but why are you mixed up in this?"

Great fucking question. "I don't know." He shoved his hands into his hair. "I guess I thought I could keep her out of trouble. And I genuinely want to help, just don't know how. I'm not CGIS. I'm not command. Just a rescue swimmer."

Perez sighed, pinching her brow. "You're an idiot. But a noble idiot. I hope it goes without saying, but you can't do something like this again. You're going to have to be way more subtle going forward."

"Going forward? Don't you mean ‘drop this altogether' before he makes it worse?" Hatcher side-eyed Perez. To Reid, he added, "Nireed's not your responsibility. Even if she's telling the truth. Or thinks she is."

"I wouldn't go that far." Perez waggled a finger. "A corporate company murdering people is not something to turn a blind eye to."

" Allegedly murdering."

"God, you're insufferable. Yes, fine. Allegedly. But my point remains."

"Look, I'd say that about anyone who convinced a friend to commit a crime. It's not just because of what she is, although that freaks me out too. Also, are we not going to talk about how mermaids can just sprout legs and walk on land?"

"How obvious is it?" Reid interjected. All things considered, his friends seemed to be handling the news relatively well, but he wouldn't get that kind of grace elsewhere. "Will command put two and two together?"

His friends shared a look, then shook their heads.

"You kept your head down and hood up," Hatcher grumbled. "I only noticed because I saw you two sitting here together and the clothes matched. Plus, the Nautic context."

"That, and your guilty body language," Perez added. "You yanked off your jacket like it was on fire. Also lucky for you, those eyewitnesses were terrible. Painfully untrained in talking to media."

"I'm sorry, you guys. I obviously didn't think this through very well."

"Or at all," Hatcher snarked. Ouch, but mostly fair. "Did you find anything useful?"

"Nope. It was a complete bust."

When the waitress brought their next round of beers, they collectively took one big, long drink.

"It's not great, but I think it'll blow over." Lorelei switched off the moving picture box. A television. "They got nothing to tie you or him to this. And no one's going to put together that you were the research center's captive mermaid. Not from looking at the back of your head."

Nireed sighed with relief, as much for Reid's sake as hers. After fleeing the Surface Dweller establishment, Nireed swam straight to Lorelei's, frantically sending her pleas on the currents to the Twenty-Armed Goddess, begging the mighty kraken to spare her from the tank.

Can't go back. Can't go back. Can't go back.

Quick escape. Blend in. Hide. Survive. She didn't think, she just did.

And now that she was safe, guilt ate at her insides. She should've waited for Reid. Should've made sure he got out okay. But she'd left him behind.

"I would recommend laying low for a while." Lorelei curled up on the couch, tucking her legs beneath her. "Avoid the docks. You don't want to be seen down there and jog somebody's memory."

"I won't." There was no reason to go back. But even if there was, Nireed wouldn't be any good to her people or herself if she got caught. A willingness to do anything, and risk everything for her people didn't mean it came without calculations.

I'm not that bad, Aersila.

"Do you want to talk about what happened?"

Nireed sighed. "Not really. Was trying to find proof and failed."

"The process of elimination has its values, too. At least now you know."

"True." Nireed picked at the hem of her dress. "I just wish I knew what to do next."

That was a lie. She did have an idea. One that entailed sneaking onboard Nautic's boats one by one, but she wasn't about to tell Shorewalker that. Not when she wasn't even sure herself.

Swimming close enough to find one was risky. She'd just as soon as get caught in a net herself as succeed, and the repeated proximity to loud, discordant boat engines would damage her hearing. And that was something she hadn't yet worked up the courage to risk. Not when there weren't any guarantees she'd even locate a Nautic vessel or that the one she chose had evidence onboard.

"I wish I knew, too." Lorelei pulled a blanket onto her lap, hugging it more for its comfort than its warmth. "But we're not giving up. And Nautic's bound to get sloppy."

"Thank you, Shorewalker. And I hope you're right."

"Is something else bothering you?"

There were several things, but Reid was one she couldn't talk to Aersila about. Melusina and Delphine would listen if they were here, but they were miles and miles away. "When I asked the Coast Warrior for his help, I hadn't considered that I might get him into trouble. I just assumed he'd be safe from other Surface Dwellers."

Lorelei's bright green eyes were searching. "You're worried about him."

"I don't want anything to happen to him—to any of you—but I also know it's your choice to help us, and it's not our way to dissuade you. But I feel…"

"Guilty?"

"Yes. It's a new feeling for me."

"I think that's because the stakes have changed. Guilt goes hand in hand with fear. I should know." They shared a half-hearted smile. "You're afraid in a way you haven't been before because the risk was always to yourself, and yourself alone. But now the people you care about are on the line and your choices have the potential to affect the outcome."

She had a point.

"Insightful, Shorewalker." Nireed smirked. "Must've gotten that from me."

Lorelei playfully chucked a decorative pillow at her. "You should talk to him about it. Maybe he's changed his mind, maybe he hasn't. Let him decide."

"More wise words."

Never able to accept a compliment, Lorelei shrugged dismissively, mouth lifting into a bashful smile. One day, Nireed would get the stubborn woman to own her merits. "What's he like, this Reid?"

"Never hesitates to argue," Nireed scoffed. Then, a little more softly, "Speaks his mind, even when he's afraid."

"Keeping you humble."

Nireed rolled her eyes.

"Go on."

"He's strong in the water. Not as strong as us, but he far surpasses any Surface Dweller I've ever seen. Wears some funny thing over his eyes." Nireed framed the outside of hers with her hands, demonstrating the shape.

"Goggles." Lorelei laughed.

"Goggles." The word felt as weird to say as the contraption looked. "Keep going?"

Lorelei nodded eagerly, tucking a bit of blanket under her cheek.

If Nireed didn't know any better, she'd say Shorewalker was hanging onto every word, but why would she be so interested in the Coast Warrior? "He's purpose driven. Believes in helping people, even those such as me. Seems patient and sweet when he lets his guard down. And even when he disagrees, I think he really listens."

"Sounds like someone worth knowing." Her friend sounded so wistful, Nireed had to wonder if there was something more to her interest. Something Shorewalker wasn't telling her.