Vexed: A Tidal Kiss Novella (The Tidal Kiss Trilogy Book 5) Page 4

  “Not exactly. The grave, the location where she’s buried. I know where it is, Love. So, I thought I should tell you.” He looks so earnest, a weird expression on him, and I narrow my eyes.

  “You’ve known this all along, and you’re only just telling me now?” I accuse him, my temper threatening to overwhelm me as I tense my jaw.

  “Hey, I tried! You shoved bloody wedding cake in my face!” he exclaims, and I snort.

  “And the month between then and now? What about that? It just… slipped your mind I suppose?” My lips purse, and I suck in my cheeks, biting down hard on the inside of my mouth as a fire ignites within my chest. I clench my fists as they drop to my sides.

  “What? You mean I was supposed to know that avoiding me and locking yourself away in this place was some secret female signal for… Oh pursue me! Bloody pursue me, Vex!” His voice goes high pitched, mocking me as he flutters his lashes and brings his hands up like he might swoon. The urge to beat the crap out of him increases considerably.

  “You were supposed to be honest, why didn’t you tell me right away?” I demand, and he scowls yet again.

  “You shoved me to the ground and told me to get the hell out of your throne room! What is that? More fucking woman code I was supposed to decipher? I’m not a bloody mind reader!”

  “Well apparently you freaking are!” I retort, my heart pounding in my chest, exciting me. This is the first time I’ve felt anything since that kiss all those weeks ago, and I’m beginning to hate myself for it.

  We fall into silence, and the corners of my lips twitch. I almost want to smile at the ridiculousness of this situation, and yet refuse to let Vex see that I’m not pissed. Torturing him this way is far too much fun.

  “What do you want me to do with this information, exactly?” I query, wondering what his motives are.

  “I thought I’d take you there if you like, Love. Seems like you could use some closure to me.” I gape at his reply.

  So, what…he’s doing this because he cares? That seems about as likely as Isabella awarding me the Nobel peace prize.

  “Why don’t you just tell me where it is?” I demand, and his eyes narrow.

  “What…you don’t think you’ll need a tour guide going all the way to England?” he asks, and my eyes widen.

  England? How did my Arabella end up there? I wonder, my mind immediately latching onto the information.

  “Even if I did need a tour guide, I wouldn’t want one as disgusting as you. It’s a sensitive matter, as I’m sure you can imagine, and I don’t need you tainting everything with your filthy mouth.” I want the words to hurt him, so he leaves and doesn’t come back, but instead, a small glint grows behind his eye, pissing me off. “You can go now,” I bark, sick of the sight of him.

  I turn, opening the door for him and watching as he comes closer. My skin heats slightly as he licks his bottom lip.

  “Thanks so much for the information, Vex. You’re my bloody hero.” He mocks me yet again in a high-pitched voice, and I glare at him as he passes.

  “I don’t want anyone knowing what you just told me. Keep it to your damn self, alright?” I warn him, ushering him out as fast as I can.

  “And if I go running to Callie and Mr. Onion?” he asks, a sly and dangerous smile stretching his lips wide.

  I could threaten him or play into his game whereby he baits, and I bite, causing him pleasure beyond what he deserves.

  Instead of satiating his lust for fraught discourse, though, I slam the door in his face before turning and sliding down the length of it, defeated. I sit on the oil-slick black stone of the floor, tail outstretched before me, running my fingers through my long black hair. I’m trying to absorb the information that my daughter had ended up in England, and in this process, I can’t help but ask the question.

  Of all the goddamn places, why there?

  I stare up at the ceiling, breathing in and out as I lay splayed among the velvet of the sheets.

  I let my fingers crawl through them, crablike as they elongate, spindled. The sensation of the fabric on my skin is one of pleasurable distaste, much like any and all experience with Vex, and I wonder now why that is. I don’t want to admit it, and yet, I cannot deny that arguing with him is the only thing that makes me feel truly alive these days.

  Is it because I have unresolved issues with my daughter? Is that why I seem to be looking over each passing moment of my life as a spectator rather than an active participant?

  Perhaps.

  But what would standing where her body lies beneath as bone and dust achieve?

  Probably nothing.

  I hadn’t expected to survive that battle; maybe I hadn’t wanted to either. Despite this though, what I couldn’t have seen coming was what had actually happened. Being charged with the care and restraint of the Psirens when I can barely restrain myself… or at least, that was before. Now it seems only a certain tentacled asshat can rekindle the fire within my chest, the raging storm that has eroded my small and shrivelled heart.

  Perhaps the worst part of all of this is that I have no tangible target for my rage, and maybe that’s why I’m so angry with Vex and yet physically dissonant with everyone else. He had embodied the god that cursed me this way, bestowed more responsibility than I could ever imagine, nor have ever desired. Now Poseidon is gone, up in The Higher Plains, and I’m left here, stuck. They had also given me some semblance of what they deem a reward. Fractured memories from the life of my daughter which did not give me the comfort I imagined but has merely left me more disconnected from her memory, realising that her life is long over, long gone.

  I, of course, have always known this fact somewhere in the back of my mind, but I have never accepted it. Maybe I’ve always hoped some mystical force would keep her alive until we could one day be reunited, and I could say everything I’ve always dreamed of. But as it is, her life passed too fast, cruelly fast even, and I never had the chance to say hello, let alone goodbye.

  I sigh out, pondering the possibility of a journey to England.

  Will it help or hurt?

  The lilac glow of the algae shining out from behind the red crystal facets of the headboard blankets me, and I close my eyes, remembering her tiny body, the weight of it in my arms, her smell, the way her fingers had grabbed mine moments before I had bled to death.

  Then it occurs to me that maybe I don’t know enough. Had my husband given her a good life? Or had she become downtrodden, just like my sister had before she was chosen? I would have taught her to be strong, to be a fighter. Just like me… or… just like I was.

  I let my head loll to the side and stare at the vanity in the corner of the room. It’s made from azure crystal, the legs looking like that of an eerie crustacean. Crystal instruments of beauteous torture lie atop the slick surface. A too sharp comb, made from the remnants of a dead swordfish, catches my eye in particular.

  I see the mirror from afar, my face blurred from this distance, and imagine it’s her face. I would sit her down and brush her hair, ask her about her day, about her life.

  The notion of what could have been is too painful to maintain, and so I let the vision dissipate like rain upon the surface of the ocean, becoming yet again lost in the shifting mass of my own darkness.

  A knock at the door breaks my internal melancholia, and I growl to myself, sure it’s Vex returning to berate me.

  I rise off the bed, temper flaring at the thought of his lack of respect for me and my personal space. Storming through the water and across the room, I yank open the door, revealing not Vex, but Orion.

  “Oh. It’s you.” I exhale, my temper extinguishing faster than an ember in the midst of an arctic storm.

  “Expecting someone else?” he asks, the royal blue fluke and shimmering scales surrounding his eyes too bright, too fantastical for the dark crystal of our surroundings. He certainly doesn’t belong here.

  “No… I…” I begin but he brushes past me, always one for giving a crap about sticking his nose
in affairs that don’t involve him.

  “Oh, please… do come in, brother.” I roll my eyes, slamming the door behind him and once again finding myself cocking a hip and crossing my arms over my breast scales, raising my defences.

  “I bumped into Vex in the courtyard outside; he told me about Arabella,” he expresses, frowning, and I raise my hand to my head, slapping myself as I groan.

  “I’m going to fucking kill him!” I vow, and Orion smiles.

  “I think he kind of cares about you. It’s sort of cute actually.” He gives me his mighty wisdom, and I contemplate punching him in the face. Something stops me though; call it the ‘I can’t be bothered’ effect, which seems to have completely taken me over as of late.

  “You know, one of your only redeemable features that I can recall is that you hate that moron…” I mutter.

  “Look, we’re all concerned, Azure. You’re not yourself.” He announces this like it’s some big shocker, running his fingers through his mahogany locks, which are, as usual, effortlessly freaking tousled.

  Stupid attractive asshole. I cuss.

  “Really? Not myself? What about being held hostage as Queen of The Psirens sounds fun to you? I don’t even want to be a freaking Psiren, let alone deal with the rest of them!” I exclaim, and he stares at me, quizzical in his dumb expression.

  “Why are you still here then? If you hate it so much? Why don’t you just leave?” He asks me this, as though I haven’t tried to leave, as if the idea has never even occurred to me.

  God he’s stupid.

  “You remember that week where I was bedridden with a headache bad enough to make me admit I actually love you as a brother? Remember how delirious I was?” I demand, recalling how I had wanted to carve my brain out of my skull just to stop the torment, the images, the screams. That was the thing about Poseidon; he might not be visibly present, but the second I had decided I’d had enough of this place and tried to leave the city for good, the mind-numbing agony of his visions had started. The destruction the Psirens would cause without my help coming to me in a three-hundred-and-sixty-degree, surround sound, three dimensional and fully immersive hell, beamed right down into my head courtesy of the gods themselves.

  “What, so you’re saying that happened because you tried to leave? When did you try to leave?” He looks shocked, as if he can’t believe he missed my little attempt to make a break for it. As though I’d leave a neon sign or news bulletin lying around for him to find?

  I’m not that kind of girl.

  One day I’ll just be gone.

  “Yeah, it was a week after your wedding; that’s how fast I was over this ridiculous attempt at democracy. I am not the right person for this job. If there is one,” I reveal, and he cocks an eyebrow.

  “The gods don’t seem to think so,” he reminds me, taking a stroke forward. I back up automatically, putting more space between us as I reach the mattress and perch on the edge, bored of the conversation.

  “The gods don’t know their asses from their elbows. As is evidenced by the very reason we’re having this stupid conversation. Poseidon screwed up by even creating the Psirens, so what makes you think that him deciding I’d make a great ruler isn’t that same poor judgement?” I demand. He laughs.

  “I guess you have a point there.” He doesn’t try to convince me that I’m right for the job, which I appreciate. He at least realises, more than anyone and from personal experience, that you can’t force someone into being a good leader; they must grow into and choose it in their own time.

  “So, I assume you’ll be heading to England?” he continues, and I give him a confused stare, narrowing my eyes.

  “Why would you assume that?” I ask him, and he shrugs, scratching the perfect edge of his jawline.

  “Don’t you want to see where she’s buried…my niece?” he asks, and I feel my heart falter. He’s shaming me, and I know that the only reason it’s working is because I know a good mother would go, even an absent one.

  I sigh out. I guess I’m not a good mother then because the idea terrifies me more than anything I can recall.

  “Arabella, her name is…” I swallow hard. “Was Arabella,” I whisper, my voice cracking as I feel my soul break. Speaking her name is always painful, but now it’s even closer to home as I must accept I missed it. I missed her life.

  “I think you need to go, Azure. I mean, I know I only found out about this recently, but I think it’s a large part of why you’re having so much trouble dealing with the Psirens.” I shrug, my heart beating slow in my chest.

  “How did you leap to that conclusion?” I demand, curious more than angry at this point; I’ve used all my rage up on Vex, or so it would seem.

  “Ruling people is a lot like being a parent. Maybe you’re feeling inadequate because you feel like you failed Arabella as a mother.”

  Wow. Where the hell did that come from?

  I ponder this for a moment, pursing my lips as I feel the sting of his words.

  “Do you think I failed her then? As a mother?” I’m direct with him, and he cocks his head, brow furrowed in sadness.

  “Of course not. Why would you even ask that? I think the fact you’re having so much trouble deciding whether to go to her grave or not is enough to show you care, deeply, even after all this time. It’s also why you should go.” He’s full of wise words today, dramatic and meaningful words no doubt, but are they true? I look at him and see much of our father in his gaze, the way his mouth is stoic in its straight and harsh line, waiting for me to make up my mind.

  “I guess I could use a break from all this madness,” I concede, relief flooding my knotted gut the moment I speak the words. Orion looks relieved too, his face turning kind.

  “I’ll get Georgia to book you and Vex a car and a hotel, okay?” I scowl, instantly becoming tense within seconds yet again.

  “Vex? I’m not having him coming along! I don’t need some dirty minded tour guide for this! I’ve already made that very clear to him!” I exclaim, and Orion laughs.

  “Azure, I’m not letting you drive a manual car again as long as I’m breathing. Remember Italy? Huh?” He’s teasing me, and I scowl.

  “Hey, they have THREE pedals!”

  “And that’s exactly why you need a guy with plenty of appendages to accompany you. Besides, you’re a Queen now; I’m not sending you without protection.” He’s serious, being ridiculously over protective as usual, and I smirk.

  “One of us will be needing protection, and it won’t be me. I’ll murder him, Orion!” As the words leave my lips, Orion smirks, and I give him a sly look.

  “Are you sending me off with the intention of getting Vex killed? Because you know that’s not very ruler-ish.” I fold my arms, flicking my tail up behind me, creating a flurry of frustrated bubbles as I scrutinise him.

  “Not killed… just maimed. Teeny bit?” He places his fingers ever so slightly apart, indicating the size of his intent, and I roll my eyes.

  “Do I actually have to go with him?” I ask him, and he shakes his head with a small smug smile.

  “I think you do, actually. He knows where the grave is, and I doubt he’s going to give up the location. He really wants to accompany you.” His expression turns suggestive, and I reach forward to slap him on the arm.

  “Just shut up with that… it’s never going to happen. EVER.” I assure him, and he nods.

  “Suuuure. Let’s be honest. I just want him to screw someone else I love so I can punch him over it.” Orion looks cocky, which has me shaking my head.

  “Because that worked out so well for you last time,” I reply with a snide tone, and he scowls, puffing out his chest. Now, it matches his ridiculously over inflated sense of pride.

  “Hey, I won that fight!”

  Here we go again…

  “You did not! Stop being an ass. I’ll think about the trip, okay?” I relinquish, and he shrugs.

  “Okay, well, I’m going to go. I have to clean up the mess from today with the ot
her council members,” he says, looking awkward now, so I flop back on the bed.

  “Have fun with that!” I call after him as he propels himself toward the front door before opening it and slipping through.

  The door slams behind him, leaving me alone with my thoughts once again.

  I sigh.

  When you’re me, it’s a terrible state to be sure.

  Chapter Three

  Eye Spy

  I’m swept away from the Occulta Mirum, with Gideon and Callista now temporarily in charge of the mess I’m leaving behind, by a whirlpool that will take Vex and I to Scotland. From here we will journey south to some English seaside town I’ve never heard of.

  Vex tries to make small talk as we pass from the merciless torrent of the thrashing portal and into the familiar murky green of Scottish waters, but I ignore him, finding my only source of comfort the silence that I can make us both suffer.

  The water is chill, scented like fresh evergreen vegetation. It’s not as cold as The Deep or The Arctic, and yet, it brings a certain edge to my senses, which have been dulled by the warm embrace of the Pacific, as it flies over my skin with a refreshing icy burn. It’s sharp, pungent even, as it is pulled through my gills and slips, slick, down my gullet. Perhaps the clement waters and shallow depth of the Occulta Mirum are making me soft, or maybe I’m just making excuses.

  I don’t know where we’re going, but I know that this trip isn’t going to be a vacation. I’m here to find something I’ve lost…or perhaps to grieve the realisation that it can never be found. Either way, I’m anxious for it to be over and even more anxious to ensure that Vex doesn’t ruin it for me.

  We cut through the water side by side, and I let my stroke become furious against the cold tide as I find the freedom I’ve been so craving, even if it is only temporary. The chill of the waves gives me a mental clarity I have since lost while the sun sets over-head, and I rise to the surface, exploding through the salty foam and arching my body. Vex doesn’t join in but merely watches me with interest as I hit the surface of the water over and over again, hard.