The Marked Ones (27 page)

‘Yeah well if as Ivanna, you flat out refused to give him a number or address or an idea where you lived for ten years, then I’m not
surprised that he smells a conspiracy with her little sister suffering the same affliction after the death of the first.’

Ivyanne groaned and got to her feet, pulling the throw with her. ‘I have to go.’

Tristan sat up. ‘To him? Ivyanne, you need to walk away! Your mum’s been tolerant this far, but if anyone finds out that he’s looking into our family, she’ll have to have him-’

‘
Don’t say it.’ Ivyanne snapped. ‘This isn’t Lincoln’s fault. He will not lose his life over my weakness.’

Tristan frowned. ‘Nor can we risk our
secrecy for your weakness Ivyanne.’

‘I know that.’ She raked her hands through her hair as she gazed around his bedroom floor for her clothes. ‘I have to go somewhere and think of a cover story where I won’t cross his path.
Now. I don’t care if I have to tell him my father’s a goddamn spy or in witness protection-I can’t leave him with questions. It’s too dangerous. Once I think of something that covers all of us, I’ll let you know, and Pintang too. Then I’ll get Ardhi, and get the hell out of this bay!’ She located the swimsuit top he’d thrown off halfway through their love making and used it to hoist up her breasts, before grabbing the strapless top and zipping it up. ‘I just hope Pintang doesn’t have too many questions of her own. Ardhi would love a reason to kill Lincoln.’

‘Witness protection is good then.’ Tristan grudgingly agreed, impressed that she’d come up with a plausible solution so swiftly. ‘If he truly loves you, he won’t ask that you risk your life to be with him.’

‘Then let’s hope it’s more than infatuation. Because I don’t think I can Siren two decades worth of memories from his head without leaving him brain-dead.’ Ivyanne picked up her torn bikini briefs, frowned, then tossed them onto the ground. Then she buried her face in her hands. ‘Oh god...I hope Marcus hasn’t noticed him digging!’

‘Marcus won’t touch him. In fact, he’s pretty protective of his former protégé.’ Tristan reached into his bedside drawer and retrieved a yellow bikini, tossing her the lower half, trying not to look at
her lower half. ‘Put these on.’ Ivyanne caught them and wrinkled her nose. He rolled his eyes. ‘The tags are still on them silly. I bought a set for my niece Grace- she’s obsessed with yellow-but I can always get her another pair. I have an oven mitt with the resort logo on it too for my sister, if that’ll help.’

‘Pass on the oven mitt, but thanks.’ Ivyanne instantly bent and began wiggling the briefs up her golden legs. ‘They fit! Wow, Grace must be growing up!’

‘That she is.’ Tristan propped himself onto one elbow and watched her dress herself. ‘Are you sure you don’t want me to come?’

‘No. I started it, I’ll finish it. You handle Pintang...gently, please. Jealous or not, she’s a nice girl, and I don’t want her hurt.’ Ivyanne peered out of one of the portholes. ‘Can I slip into the water from here unnoticed?’

‘Yeah....’ Tristan was reluctant for her to leave. He reached out, took her hand and squeezed it. ‘Please be careful, Ivyanne. Don’t get yourself in any deeper than you can get out of.’

‘Deep water I can handle,’ Ivyanne said, turning and kissing the back of his hand in a touchingly intimate gesture. ‘I’ll let you know how I go.’

Tristan felt butterflies in her stomach. Lying naked in his bed, wishing she wasn’t leaving his side for another man made him feel more vulnerable then he’d ever felt in his life. How many women had he made feel this way? ‘How will I find you? When should I come?’

Ivyanne paused to wink at him before opening his cabin door. ‘You’re a smart boy. You’ll work it out.’ And then she shut the door behind her.

Tristan grinned and sank back against his pillows.

27.

Ivyanne was surprised to find the treehouse a good three hundred meters away from where she had remembered it to be.

I’m getting old,
she thought with a wry smile, pushing through the dense rainforest. She’d followed the official bushwalking track inland for a kilometer, knowing her own, foot- forged turn-off was down from it and to the left near a fallen tree-but now she realized that both the tree and the chicken track she was seeking had probably been absorbed by the rainforest years before.

Enough light from the waning moon filtered through the canopy to contrast the black and glistening leaves from the deep mauve open spaces-but the path was covered in slick, wet leaves from the rain making it harder to follow.

Ivyanne wasn’t sweating-mermaids didn’t-instead, their skin grew prickly and dry-but she felt like she was suffocating again in the dense air. She’d thought that the swim back from Tristan's boat, followed by a quick shower and a change of clothes, would have kept her feeling refreshed for awhile-but no such luck-her fresh white sundress was damp from the wet leaves and her heels were already feeling raw. Bats screamed in the night, their flutter of wings as they flitted from tree to tree distracting her every time.

I really do need to get out in the world more,
she thought, pulling out a water bottle and taking an uncharacteristic gulp, feeling suddenly uneasy, alone in the darkness. This used to be so easy!

After pacing back and forth near the roots of a fallen tree for a few minutes, Ivyanne realized that she’d found the right place-only the path was gone. She replaced the water bottle
after a second drink, and using the moss covered tree as guide, hiked down the small but treacherous valley and up the other side, imagining all sorts of unseen creatures watching her- snakes and spiders, things she rarely had to worry about and wasn’t as cool-headed around as she would be a shark or manta ray. She climbed over another fallen tree and shuddered as something skittered across her hand, but she pressed on and up the steep incline which was bringing her to the uneven cliff face which bordered the small bay on the other side of Oyster point.

Finally, she spotted the mouth of the cave she was looking for, yawning and pitch black against the silvery rocks which supported her old hide y-hole. As kids, she and Lincoln had loved going through it to get to the top-it had been such an adventure! But now she was relieved that there was an alternate route-up and over. Who
knew what had nested in there over the course of ten years and now lay in wait in the dark? Ivyanne hadn’t thought to bring a flashlight. In fact she hadn’t thought at all. This had simply been the first place that had come to mind when she’d pictured a sanctuary, and she had headed for it without thinking.

Ivyanne blinked up at the fort dubiously. The first half of the dilapidated dwelling was nestled in the groove of a tree, the second sat flush against the boulders. So as long as she stayed in the area with the rock foundation, she shouldn’t have to worry about falling through the floor.

Ivyanne approached from the side and gingerly reached to feel around for loose rocks or bugs, but there were none. Using the tips of her fingers and the toes of her shoes, she quickly shimmied up the first massive boulder, then the second before suspending her weight on a branch of the tree and reaching for the timber siding of the fort with the other.

She got the railing in her grasp and pulled on it gently, testing it’s strength. Convinced that it wasn’t ready to explode into a handful of dust and termites, she used it to pull herself across, ducking under it and between the gap of two short, vertical palings which made up part of the crude frame, and then scurried across the rough and gritty floor.

‘Well, that was an effort,’ she muttered to herself, dusting soil and cobwebs off her knees. She crossed to the left hand side of the old fort, taking the railing in her hands, amazed at how small and fragile it now seemed. The moon was huge but shy, drifting in and out of long, fast-moving clouds. Beneath it, the ocean was a vast expanse of blackness, curling around the entire edge of Seaview, it’s endless surface occasionally threaded with silver. Directly above her, low hanging branches and still more wet leaves pulled at her hair.

That’s how all of these problems will look to me twelve years from now,
she thought, reaching up to bend a low branch back up and into the ones surrounding it to give her some head room before gazing back down at the bay. Small and fragile. Maybe by the time I’m fifty, or sixty, I will have forgotten Lincoln’s name.

Ivyanne chewed her lip, knowing that it would probably take longer than that. But the lip she chewed felt bruised, and the tenderness between her legs was smarting more after her strenuous hike-and they were so much more than
simple aches. It was physical proof that she had been altered since her return to the Seaview. So how much more dramatically she would change after months with Tristan Loveridge?

Some branches were still tugging at her hot, heavy hair, so the took the length of it and twisted it into a thick rope before looping it into one large knot. Then, she closed her eyes, savoring the night breeze wafting over the nape of her exposed neck, remembering how she had lost control with Tristan, and why she’d allowed it.

I could have let him get protection. She mused. I could have even asked him to pull out when he was ready...so why didn’t I? I knew what it would mean. After all of my talk about needing time...did I want to be trapped?

It was an intriguing idea, to think that one’s self conscious could have an agenda that even it wasn’t aware of. But Tristan had given her the escape from herself that she needed. How long before that need turned to dependance? Dependance, to trust? And trust to love? Or was she in love with him already? At least to the capacity that she could be, anyway, while nursing a broken heart.

But could it be like the love I had for Link? She wondered, unable to steer around the thought now that she was here, in their place. Earlier that afternoon she’d believed herself to be home free-she’d stabbed herself in the heart then taken Lincoln out with the same knife, praying that he’d be too upset with her to get in her face again before she vacated in the morning. But now, she had to find him and explain the tattoos before he could jump to a weird conclusion and spend another ten years obsessing about a Court girl.

The idea of facing him so quickly after having given herself to another man made her heart sink. She was
glad she had slept with Tristan-she already felt so much closer to him...as well as being completely in awe-but the fact that she’d had to force herself to sleep with the best looking man in the world to get over someone else still spoke volumes about her conflicted little heart. A tear slipped out of her eye, and she angrily brushed it away.

Ivyanne dropped her gaze to the railing. The light was dim, but she was able to make out the spot where Lincoln had once carved her name into the wood, enclosed within a love heart. She traced her finger over the ‘I’, smiling to herself. Lincoln was a beautiful man, but he wasn’t from her world, and he never could be. Dilemma resolved. Now, she just had to think up a really good running-from-the-mob story to quench his curiosity, and her life could finally begin.

But then her finger hit an unfamiliar notch, and her hand stopped. At first, she assumed that someone had crossed it out-maybe even Lincoln when she had never returned. But as she bent and peered down, her breath escaped from her lungs with a whoosh. Someone had scratched a Y after the ‘V’ and an E after the ‘A’. Ivyanne, her current name, not one that belonged in that place, from that time.

‘I wasn’t sure if you’d ever see it.’ A deep voice said from behind her. ‘I thought maybe I was crazy for even writing it to begin with-but I guess your being here proves just how
sane I am.’

Ivyanne desperately didn’t want to turn around. As her forcefield of lies crumbled all around her, she contemplated simply vaulting herself over the side of the railing and into the ocean below.

‘You’re going to have to say something,’ Lincoln continued. ‘This isn’t an issue you can deflect by blaming your zany family, Ivanna. Nice tattoo, by the way. Though I’ve got to say, not very creative-I’ve noticed a few just like it lately.’

Ivyanne slowly turned around, heart in her throat. He knew she was the girl from his past. A married to the mob story wasn’t going to cover her ass now. Her hands clenched together-she hadn’t anticipated this. ‘
How many?’ she asked quietly.

‘More than you might have realized, by now.’ Lincoln’s face was illuminated by the pearly glow of the moon, but barely recognizable, so shadowed were his features with fury. He uncurled his long body from the deepest, darkest corner and stood, snapping a branch off and tossing it over the edge to clear a path. ‘It wasn’t too hard. I just focused on the people you seem to have
instantly bonded with....’

Ivyanne didn’t know who was in deeper trouble-him or
her. ‘You haven’t said anything to anyone have you?’

‘No. I knew I was onto something I probably wasn’t supposed to know, so I was pretty sly about investigating.’ He laughed without humor. ‘I’ve had a busy few days, as you can imagine.’

Ivyanne regarded him seriously. ‘What do you plan on doing with the information?’

He raised his dark eyebrows. ‘Why? Is it valuable.’

‘Worth more than your life, to some people.’ Ivyanne said sharply.

He flinched. ‘Even to
you?’

‘
Especially to me.’

‘I knew it!’ He pushed a floppy lock of dark hair out of his eyes. ‘Let me guess.... it’s a big cult right? Your mum and dad are the leaders, and you’ve been groomed to take over your entire life. But this isn’t some kool-aid drinking commune where just anybody can join in to worship the goat-god, right? It’s some
serious shit.’

‘Close enough,’ she said quickly, trying to hide the tremble in her voice. ‘And now that you know, you have to pretend that you
don’t.’

‘
Why?’ he asked, a hard look on his face as he took a step closer. Now that her eyes were adjusting, the return of his youth and beauty stood out more than before. His eyes shone, his lips flushed with color like he had just bitten them, the smooth angles of his cheekbones and jaw begging to be sketched by some artist obsessing over the meaning of ‘tall, dark and handsome.’

‘Actually not why, but
how?’ He demanded. ‘How can you honestly expect to just drag me into the very centre of your insane life then toss me out without so much as a clue to who you actually are, Ivanna?’

Ivyanne turned her face away from him, blinking back tears. ‘Don’t call me that!’ she whispered. ‘That’s
not my name!’

Hands were on her shoulders, and she felt him give her a quick shake. ‘No it’s not. It’s your
alias, isn’t it? Ivyanne, if everything we’ve been through since we were kids wasn’t just a farce, you owe it to me to tell me why you look closer to thirteen then thirty. And not in a: ‘Oh my! You’ve aged so well way!’ but in a black magic, blood-sucking way... with a tan.’

‘Fine!’ Ivyanne huffed. ‘We’re daylight vampires, all right? The jig is up.’

‘Don’t be a smart arse!’ He snapped. ‘If I wasn’t so damn grateful that my Ivanna didn’t die, I probably would have strangled you for lying to me by now!’

‘You’d better be strong enough to strangle me for at least twenty minutes Link!’ She snapped. Then her hand flew to her mouth as she realized how severely she’d misspoken. But she couldn’t help it-her kind were not the type to swoon helplessly at masculine threats.

Lincoln raised a dark eyebrow. ‘Now it comes out!’ he gripped her shoulders tighter. ‘That wasn’t a girl power thing-you meant it! So you’re tolerant to suffocation, huh?’ He crossed his arms, leaned against the opposite railing, and frowned, as though deep in thought. ‘You’re strong. But you get sore feet easily-which seem magically better after a dip in the ocean-which you do frequently, and always have. In fact-a lot of my staff always have. And never in the flagged zones either-y’all seem to go way out.’ He tapped his lower lip. ‘But you avoid chlorine, don’t drink, don’t age...and from the look of your resume, and Aubrielle’s and Remi’s and Pintang's ...you’ve all taken an active interest in environmental issues.’

Ivyanne’s nails dug into the flesh of her upper arms as her heart sank. She had nothing to say.

‘Yes Ivyanne...I’ve been working hard these past few days.’ Lincoln said, a twitch of pride puling at the corner of his lips. ‘You saved me from drowning when we were kids-I was out there because of a riptide-but what the hell was an incredibly overprotected girl doing beyond the shark nets by herself?‘

Oh my god......
Ivyanne felt like she was going to black out. He’d missed nothing.

‘I’m a strong swimmer,’ she whispered feebly.

‘Oh I know. And from what I saw earlier this afternoon, you come in from your swim, shedding scales like a fish or a-’ He stopped there, taking a step closer. ‘Am I warm?’

Ivyanne had to clench onto the railing to stop herself from falling over in shock. ‘Shut up! You have no idea what you’re talking about and if you don’t let this go-’

But Lincoln reached out and cupped her chin, tilting her face to his. ‘My mermaid....’ he said, with reverence. ‘That’s what I always called you, because of the way you appeared that first day we met and saved me from drowning...’ He slid the other hand around the back of her neck and tugged on the loop she’d made so that her curls cascaded down her shoulders. His pupils appeared to dilate at that, his gaze softening as he caressed it. ‘This hair...I used to bury my face in this hair!’ The intensity came back into his expression. ‘But you lied to me! How could you let me think you were dead? Couldn’t you see how it killed me? Do you have no conscience?!’