The Marked Ones (4 page)

Dalton and Steve looked at each other and smirked.

‘Oh please. Anyone can be that good-looking, if they pay for the hair extensions and boob job.’ Adele muttered, sliding an orange juice onto the counter in front of Steve. ‘Two fifty thanks. You sure you don’t want some vodka in it?’

‘Nah.’ Said Steve. ‘I’ve got a bit of work to do back in the room later.’

‘They were real.’ Bobbitt insisted. ‘When you’ve been around as long as me, you can spot magnificence from manufacturing a mile off.’

‘No way. You need your eyes checked.’

Lincoln turned away and hit the N/S button on the till, pretending to study the contents with great interest as he blushed furiously. He’d gotten a decent enough look at Ivyanne in the moonlight the night before to know she hadn’t spent a cent on her perfect rack, and his mouth was watering at the thought of her being old enough for him to daydream about how they
felt with a clear conscience. It was an unwelcome fantasy though-that was twice now that she had gotten under his skin without even trying.

And how could she help it? To describe her as merely breathtaking would have been the understatement of the century.

Lincoln caught his reflection in the refrigerator doors and frowned, seeing the evidence that he’d softened through his clothes, which were baggier then they should have needed to be at twenty-nine. When it came to the hot new girl, the fantasizing would be one-sided, and he hated that. Although the man reflected back at him was still of impressive height and width, he’d let himself go, and there was no other way to put it.

Where did I go?
He wondered, turning away after the briefest of glimpses of his pale and pasty skin, and the dark circles under his dull eyes. What do people think when they see me with Adele? Do they call her a gold digger? Me a cradle robber?  Lincoln had a good reputation with his staff, but it was always a possibility that they joked about it, especially considering most people assumed that he was five to ten years older than he actually was.

He sighed heavily. Ivyanne couldn’t be Ivanna-but what if she
had been? What if there had been a chance meeting somewhere else? He’d always imagined her throwing herself into his arms, and now his fantasy was marred by the possibility that she would shrink back in disappointment. Once upon a time, he had made every girl he met blush and giggle. Were those days lost to him forever?

Lincoln stole a sidelong glance at Adele. Her face still set in an expression of annoyance now that Dalton and Steve had piped up in Ivyanne’s defense, trying to assure Adele that the new girl was one hundred percent natural. He forced himself to smile and wink at her, something he almost never did, and was delighted to see her own smile return cautiously.

‘What’s that grin for?’ Adele asked, picking up a plastic drink tray and cocking her head, walking away from the men.

His smile widened. ‘Just realizing what a beautiful young lady I have,’ he said quietly, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. ‘It makes me want to go to the gym so you can be as proud of
me.’

Adele smiled, obviously mollified now that the conversation had turned away from the pretty new waitress. ‘Hmmm.....always a good idea...especially with special events on the horizon...’ she winked at him and turned away, leaving the hint hanging in the air. She meant the wedding of course.

Lincoln chuckled and shook his head before heading off into the kitchen. He’d clearly encouraged her in the wrong direction.

4.

By the time Ivyanne reached the beach, she was beginning to hobble on her stinging feet. As much as it pained her to delay her swim, she forced herself to veer to the right, closer to Oyster Point where the blazing restaurant lights didn’t quite reach the beach. It had been a trying thirty six hours, and Ivyanne didn’t trust herself enough anymore to follow her impulses-and naturally every impulse she had at that moment was to strip and dip and damn the consequences.

It was earlier in the evening, so the tide was much higher than the night before. Ivyanne limped down to the waters edge and began to tear off her work clothes, discarding them in the sand. Underneath, she wore a pale green bikini, and once the outer layer was off, she untied the bottom half and retied each of the side strings so they encircled her waist, with the excess fabric hanging down her backside. It was an old trick, one most of them used, just in case they were ever caught unawares. She’d only ever had to use it once or twice, but when it came to her kind, carelessness was
not an option.

When that was done, Ivyanne sat down in water so shallow she barely felt it, and took off her canvas work shoes. The light was dim, but she held the soles of her feet up to the moonlight one by one and gasped when she saw the raw, pustulating sores running from her toes to her ankle. She winced and examined them closer, disgusted.

‘Yuck,’ Ivyanne let go of her feet and eased them into the warmish water, tilting her head back and crying out softly. It stung a bit at first as the salt licked at the wounds, but she squeezed up her face and squirmed in lower, moaning as the water went up to her knees. ‘Ohh heavenly.......’

The pain in her feet began to ebb and the small waves breaking over her caused Ivyanne to lose her control. She bent at the waist, plunged her head under and shot out a few meters, letting her hair get good and wet, before bursting forward with lightning quick speed, grinning underwater. She felt the moment of change, as she willed her body to do what came naturally. The skin on her thighs began to tingle uncontrollably and she shivered happily until the transition completed. Then, she gave her lower body a flick, and propelled herself through the water at five times the speed she had before. She kept her arms out in front, merely as a guide until her eyes adjusted, feeling for anything that she might collide into.

But there would be nothing, only sand. Ivyanne flicked again, rotating her shoulders so she twirled in several consecutive circles, her hair gliding around her face like cotton candy being spun on a stick, and when she lost momentum, she came to a stop and opened her eyes-and then everything was how it should be.

Ivyanne floated there, suspended halfway between the surface and the ocean floor, watching as the sand bars emerged from the darkness, and the stars from the sky above penetrated the water. She smiled blissfully and arched her back, before looping backwards in a large arc which swung her so low that she could trace her fingers in the sandy floor.

Peace. Comfort. Safety. Solitude-everything Ivyanne craved and hadn’t had for so long was now settled around her like a warm, watery embrace. She flicked her tail again, gently this time, and swum parallel to the ocean floor, digging tracks with her fingers in the sand.

But as the pain from her various aches and injuries subsided, her mind cleared enough for her to think. Like awakening from a delicious dream and slowly focusing on a different reality, Ivyanne remembered the shock on Lincoln Grey’s face when their eyes had locked.

It had happened. She had not hallucinated it. The realization that it had not been a nightmare-and she had compounded her woes with an extra, very large problem, suddenly hit Ivyanne like a gust of icy air. The frustration and despair of everything she was about to face ripped out of her in the form of a high pitched and heartbreaking scream that sent a pulse through the water so strong that she knew the sound would reach the reef around Needle Island, scaring away all marine life, but her.

⁓

‘So they’re contemplating taking down the drum lines at that beach...but not the nets?’ Queen Vana asked with a frown. She had already reviewed January’s east coast environmental initiative itinerary with her assistant, but to distract herself from worrying over her land-bound daughter, had decided to tackle February as well.

Saraya nodded her head, making an expression of distaste. ‘I know, I know what you’re going to say...’

‘The nets are more harmful than the lines! Not that any of it does them any good...’ Vana huffed, raking her fingers through her hair so it would dry the way she liked. She’d been on the planet almost five hundred years and yet humans continued to confound her. They made so many advancements in some areas, then backpedalled in others which required little more than logic.

Of course, sharks weren’t a problem to her. All mer possessed the ability to frighten a shark away with one, underwater scream. In fact, it would clear the ocean for miles. But that was their territory-human had their own-
land. And they wouldn’t like it if the sharks trapped them in their backyards!Besides, it was the turtles and dolphins and other marine life that were most severely affected by shark nets. ‘Get someone in there okay? Take the stats and the footage.’

Saraya nodded again, jotting something down on the ledger on her lap. Her glossy dark hair was cut so short that it had already dried from her swim. ‘We have Jeremy in there right now. He’s found a place in Byron.’

‘Doing what?’ Vana asked.

‘He wants to organize a festival,’ Saraya said, flipping pages in her notebook. ‘In Byron this year, then casting a wider net to The Gold Coast and Brisbane, and perhaps more Northern New South Wales every year. Music, craft and performances would be the draw....with environmental awareness being the issue.’

Vana wasn’t so sure. ‘But that’s been done before...’

‘Not as a co-ordinated event spanning two states on the one day,’ Saraya pointed out, tapping her pen lightly against her pouty bottom lip. ‘I think his ultimate goal would be a nation wide celebration, with the proceeds, of course, going to a worthy cause.’

Vana was impressed. ‘That’s ambitious. If he can pull it off...’

‘He’s pretty determined,’ Saraya smiled. ‘If anyone can do it.....’ her gaze flitted over Vana’s shoulder. ‘
Oh!’ Her face became both animated and coy instantaneously as her luxe brown eyes focused elsewhere. ‘We have company your highness.’

‘Good evening Vana.’ A male voice said smoothly. ‘Saraya.’

Vana glanced up from Saraya’s notepad and twisted in her seat, beaming when she saw Tristan Loveridge leaning against the pillar of her balcony, his deeply bronzed skin a stark contrast against the whitewashed bannister. He was in the process of tying a deep burgundy sarong around his narrow hips. His hair was slicked back and gleaming and droplets of water rolled down his muscular abdomen, catching the lamp light from the table and shimmering like diamonds. He was as breathtaking as the last time she had seen him. Instantly, she was flooded with relief. If Tristan could affect a happily married, out of his league, five hundred year old woman like that-well, it boded well for his chances with Ivyanne. Her innocent daughter wasn’t going to know what hit her!

‘Tristan...’ Vana turned up her cheek and he planted a kiss on her cheek, dripping water onto her bare feet. ‘You came.’

‘You called,’ Tristan nodded politely to Saraya, who was already collecting her things together, her cheeks that same deep shade of red that every other woman in the kingdom developed when they were in Tristan’s presence. An experience Vana’s husband Ash had shielded their daughter from...until now. ‘I’ll admit, I wasn’t expecting a call for months, if ever.’

Vana smiled, shifting in her seat, eagerly anticipating the conversation she’d been planning for weeks. ‘Sit.’ She said warmly. ‘My goodness, you didn’t swim from
L.A, did you?’

Tristan laughed warmly. ‘No. I was in my Sydney office and decided to follow up on the conversation we had last week while I was still on the continent. I flew here earlier today and got a hotel room on the mainland.’ He raked a hand through his dark blonde waves, which were a deep caramel color from the water and cringed slightly. ‘Sven-I mean,
Steve- won’t be happy to hear that his holiday is about to be cut short.’

‘Well thank you for coming.’ Vana said gratefully. ‘We have much to discuss!’

He grinned at her. ‘Am I going to like the conclusion of this discussion?’

She smiled at him. ‘I don’t doubt it.

⁓

Remi showed up at eight, with two other boys in tow. One, Sven, was a customer Ivyanne recognized from the bar (who had gone by the name ‘Steve’ there) a mer who usually lived on the waterfront at Sydney Harbor and was managing the New South Wales division of Tristan Loveridge’s solar panel company. He had been holidaying at The Seaview for five years, and he looked like any other environmentally-friendly baby boomer- clean cut and capable. Sven had a Swedish mother and an Irish father, so he had strawberry blonde hair and golden skin. He had a half-brother Price who was currently enlisted in the Israeli army, but Ivyanne had never met either boy before now.

The other, Dalton, actually lived in the estate on the other side of the bluff, and managed the small yacht club there. Ivyanne knew him from her youth-he had lived in Seaview for over twenty years. He looked, sounded and acted as typically Australian as any other Aussie bloke, and his handsome face was weathered. Ivyanne guessed that he was close to ninety, perhaps more.

The Mers all aged normally until the end of puberty, but usually after their sixteenth birthdays, the rate at which they showed their age began to rapidly diminish. At twenty-eight, Ivyanne looked seventeen, and probably would until she was in her late fifties. Of course, being that she was a full blood, Ivyanne’s genes were superior to most of the mers, except the Marked Family’s.

Ivyanne liked both boys instantly. She wished that the three men she had to choose between would be so affable. But then again, these guys were half-breeds, free to live life as they chose. They didn’t know what it was like to be a full-blood.

‘Half Breeds’ meant that they had one human parent, and one mer. Only mer
maids could bear mer children, regardless of who the father was, whereas, if a merman was to breed with a human woman, he’d have a human child. Those children, tended to have a love of the ocean and a certain amount of prowess when it came to the water-they were skilled fishermen, fast swimmers, keen surfers or capable boatsmen...but they’d never know why.

Ivyanne’s grandmother, when she had first transformed, had given birth to a baby-girl, and
only one, with her first husband, a French king. Because she had been born during the transition, that girl, Ivy, was a ‘full-blood’ mermaid, the first ever to be brought into the world already mer.

Ivy had later married a man who had been transformed by
her mother, so her daughter Vana, had also been born a full-blood. Vana had also married a ‘turned’ man, resulting in Ivyanne, a third generation full-blood. Their line was strong, and as her great-grandfather had been a king, Ivyanne’s blood was also blue, by human and mer standards.

But Anne had also born other children with a second husband, a man she had ‘turned’ for herself. The offspring from
that union had been full bloods, but in order for their population to thrive, Anne and her second husband had encouraged those children to mate with humans, resulting in a fast succession of fatherless half-breeds bearing the name Court-Zara. Remi, Sven and Dalton belonged to that branch, and were ineligible for the crown to prevent inbreeding.

Remi would give birth to mer children eventually, when her human marriage inevitably expired, but Sven and Dalton probably already had human children around somewhere whom they would see seldom if ever.

Mer-mer marriages were rare. The exception of course, was when a mer found a human they loved enough to have ‘turned.’ But only Anne Court, Roan, Ivyanne’s first fiancé, and one or two others before, had been able to turn whomever they wanted to suit demand. With Anne and Roan both deceased, ‘turning’ had become more of a dream then a reality. Every day the mermaids prayed that one of their children would be born with the gift.

Any mer, full or half breed,
could turn a human-but that could only happen when the last breath left their body and entered a human’s. Then, the mer would transition one last time, into a Dolphin, to never be recognized again. The older mermaids, sensing their time was near, had taken to ‘turning’ a human to partner a son or daughter, but as mermaids could live anywhere up to one thousand years old, that did not happen very often either.

But that was where Tristan, Ardhi and Bane were different. Like Roan had been, they were all descendants of the fifteen ‘Marked’ families. Queen Anne had turned fifteen humans after she had realized the difficulty her own full-blood children would have finding love that would help their species progress. The ‘Marked’ children were off-limits to other mers, and their breeding had been supervised carefully to ensure power and purity....and Ivyanne was the first of her family fortunate enough to have three full-blood mermen to choose from. Well, more than that if she was willing to wait for the younger ones to grow up. But her mother wasn’t willing to wait-she was eager to launch the first ever Court/Marked union and see her daughter happy and hopefully, pregnant in the near future.