21. Oona

Nick. My Nick is here.

We stare at one another for a long moment, like neither of us believe what we’re seeing. When I left him at the docks, I didn’t think I’d ever see my mate again. Resigned myself to a life without him. Misery would be my constant companion.

When his lips part and his eyes start to gleam with unshed tears, I know in my heart he’s thinking the same thing.

“Nick!” I yell as I pound the glass. “Help!”

Nick and the much, much larger man beside him look around frantically. Then the man beside Nick pulls out his gun. I let out a shriek in horror and curl into myself.

“Stop! Don’t shoot it!” I hear Nick scream.

Before I can warn them, Ponytail runs through the doors with his own weapon pointed at my beloved’s head. Rage engulfs me, taking over every last speck of rational thought I have in my brain. Instinct overrides everything else, and I thrash about, desperate to get out of my watery prison.

Ponytail shoots, but his bullet misses by a hair as Nick rolls away and gets cover behind several crates. The burly man returns the fire, also missing Ponytail. This is too much. My heart cannot bear it. If fate has returned my mate simply to force me to watch him die before my very eyes, I-I?—

The burly man races behind a steel pillar for cover and returns fire. I whirl around to lock eyes with my Nick. His jaw sets, and a silent thought passes between us. When he nods, I return it, and he takes aim for the glass above me.

BLAM.

The bullet hits the glass, shattering it all around me. I’m swept out with the water and collapse to the ground, choking as my lungs take over the work for my gills and fill with air.

“No!” Ponytail roars. Two guards armed with bigger weapons race inside and aim at the man behind the pillar. My mate rushes to my side and offers me his hand, but I don’t take it, still too stunned from crashing onto the floor. “Don’t hurt her!” Ponytail orders.

My lips curl back into a cruel smile, and I push myself up to stand. Nick looks at me with wide eyes as the burly man behind us fires off a few more rounds, hitting the other tubes. Nick cocks his own gun at Ponytail, his fingers on the trigger. Glass and water explode, making the men yell and run frantically for cover. The alligators that were trapped inside scurry away, trying to find a safe place to hide.

I launch myself at the men while they’re distracted. I start with the one on the left, first, and rip his head from his shoulders cleanly before Ponytail can figure out what’s happening. My target’s headless body falls to the ground in a pool of blood. The metallic tang fills the air, and my tail thrashes wildly behind me as the delicious scent fills my lungs, rejuvenating me.

“Oona! Watch out!” Nick screams, and Ponytail takes aim at my knee. Bullets fire off in every direction, and I feel the bitter sting of a bullet strike my shoulder. I let out a deep, rumbling growl before leaping on top of the other man, then snap his neck while he’s still mid-scream. Another man starts to run through the open doorway, but Nick shoots him in forehead before he can even get close to us. His drops to his knees and goes still a pool of his own blood.

Ponytail snarls at the carnage all around him and points his gun at me, aiming for my head. Nick snarls as another man tries to rush to Ponytail’s defense and shoots him dead, too. My mate might not be the best at fishing or hunting, but put one of his own weapons into his hands and he becomes a lethal force. I can’t help but feel a little proud of him in this moment.

I jump to my feet, lodge my claws into Ponytail’s belly, and watch as the light in his eyes turn opaque. He collapses to his knees and runs his fingers along my claws. Something akin to disbelief passes briefly across his face, then he slumps onto his side.

It’s over. All three men are dead, and the concrete is bathed in their blood. Nick is at my side in a heartbeat and already fussing.

“You’re hurt. You’re hurt … oh, God, Oona.” He presses his hand to my wound, trying to keep the blood from spilling forth. It hurts, yes, but it’s hardly enough to take me down or fret over.

I cluck my tongue at him as I shake my head. “Don’t worry,” I murmur. “Don’t worry.”

The burly man lumbers forth, clutching his own shoulder and wincing. He’s been maimed as well. It’s a miracle we weren’t killed.

“Can fix,” I say to the man, and spit into my webbed hand before slapping his wound with my saliva.

The burly man blinks several times as he looks between me and my mate.

“She has magic spit,” Nick says. I don’t understand a word the two men are saying back and forth to one another, but I do understand the urgency in their voices. Their harried expressions.

“We need to go,” Nick says, turning to me.

I nod. “Where can we go?” This question is for his companion, who paces the warehouse floor so frantically I’m ready to knock him out just to get him to stop.

“They’re going to come back and find their leader dead,” he says. “Then they’re going to scour the forest.”

“What is ‘scour?’” I ask softly.

My sweet, patient Nick turns to me and says, “It means they’re going to search the woods until they find us.”

That won’t do. There are at least twenty men aside from the ones I just killed. The doors to the warehouse fly open again and three men run inside. I bare my fangs and leap forward, ready to rip them each limb from limb. One of the men lets out a high-pitched screech and falls to the ground.

Nick screams, “Oona! Stop! Stop! These are friends!”

I skid to a halt in front of the group of young men. So young looking they should be back with their mothers. The one who fell to the ground begins to weep in his hands. His companions pull him back to his feet, and I straighten so they can admire my full height. Let them even think about doing anything stupid, and they’ll wish they hadn’t.

One of them points to the carnage on the floor, his finger trembling. “D-Did she do….”

Nick sighs and moves to my side to grab my hand. All the rage in my body begins to ebb away, all from a simple touch from my mate. My heart swells with warmth and pride, and all I want to do in the moment is scoop him up and kiss him until he can’t breathe. Up until minutes ago, I didn’t think I’d ever see him again.

“This is Oona,” Nick says, looking up at me and smiles. “She’s my, uh … she’s my girlfriend.”

The one who fell to the ground is back on his feet, and I groan when I notice the wet spot at the crotch of his pants.

“He’s urinated himself,” I mutter in my own tongue. The men let out sighs and groans, and I shoot them a withering look before I say, “Embarrassing,” in their tongue.

Nick winces as he looks the man up and down and says, “Reese. Oh, buddy.”

The one called Reese turns around so we can no longer see his shame. “She’s eight feet tall and looks like a cross between Godzilla and a Victoria’s Secret model! Give me a fucking break!”

Another one of the boy-men clears their throat and says, “Not to interrupt, but … we need to get the hell out of Dodge, because they’re going to circle back here soon. We took them on a wild goose chase into the lagoon, but that won’t last.”

The gruff, burly man from earlier steps forward and claps his hand on my mate’s shoulder. I snarl at him by instinct, and he lifts his hands into the air in surrender as he takes a few steps back. “Territorial girl you got there, Nick.”

Nick chuckles as he shakes his head. “Yeah. Oona, these are friends, remember. They’re helping. Please be … nice.”

I narrow my eyes and thrash my tail. The boy-men eye it warily. “What is ‘nice?’” Nick hasn’t used that word before, I don’t think.

Nick smirks at me and says, “I’ll tell you later. Come on, let’s get out of here.”