Waking the Deep (Mountain Mermaids Book 1)

It was time. Once again, it was time.

Mansen of Ragalen felt the call of the moon above him and the song of the jewels buried deep in the bottom of Sapphire Lake. And the glimmering lights of the Aurora. Together, their pull was irresistible, a powerful chain jerking him out of the deep slumber he’d committed to.

There was a time when the change excited him. The idea of waking and moving from the water to the land. The process of his body becoming fully human again. His fins pulling away to become legs again. The mere chance that he might find his mate and break the curse put upon him and his people… it used to strengthen him and give him hope. Made him feel fierce again, like the battle-ready warrior he used to be.

Now? Now the change just bored him.

It was an endless cycle he couldn’t escape from.

Three eager days of living as a human, searching desperately for the female meant for him. The one who would bring him out of the despairing lake for good. The one who could see his glamour mark. The one nobody else could see, that marked him as an ancient Merman.

The female that he could love forever and make a home with.

A home that wasn’t a watery place where he slept most of his lifetime away.

A real home. With a bed and a fireplace to keep them warm. Where they could eat meals together and eventually raise children together.

Three days of hope before he was pulled back to the lake by that same moon cycle, that same song of the jewels. The same Aurora lights. Back to his watery rest to waste away until the next full moon.

After centuries, Mansen didn’t love the feel of the change anymore.

But now it was time. Again.

His eyes opened to the cool dark water surrounding him and he breathed deep through his mouth, letting it in while his body absorbed the oxygen it needed.

Only a month had passed since his last waking, but it felt like an eternity. He didn’t know how the ones who woke daily to the water could stand it. The monotony. The constant wetness. The feeling of being other.

He stretched his arms, flexing the muscles that never seemed to shrink even with his years of inactivity, and flicked his tail to clear it of the dirt that had settled upon him while he slept. Swimming out of his cave and into the open water felt good. In the way it felt to be moving after sitting for too long.

And he wasn’t the only one making a journey to the surface. Men and some women arrowed silently for the shore, their fantastically colored tails whipping the water into a frothy soup, each hoping this land-cycle would be the one for them.

Each wasting their hope on a whisper of a possibility.

Not him.

He wouldn’t wish for the impossible anymore.

From this point on, each wake was going to fucking mean something for him. He was going to live. If three days was all this curse gave him, he was going to live his best damn life for three fucked-up days. The way he figured it, he could get an entire lifetime of living under his belt with just three days a month… three days times an eternity… yeah, that equaled…

Whatever.

Mansen didn’t head for the shore right away. Instead, he swam to the only part of Sapphire Lake he truly liked. The only place that felt like home to him, even though it wasn’t his.

Shadow Falls.

It was a small, secret piece of the greater falls that emptied into the lake. And it wasn’t anything special really. Except to him. Because he’d discovered it so many years ago. Before he was Mer. When he was robust and the Old Gods looked upon him with favor. He’d dreamed of staying behind when the others journeyed back to the homeland. Of making a home here, in the beauty of a new place waiting to be unveiled.

Until Tamsin the witch cursed his people to dwell in the lake.

Past the sunken ship his people had once sailed here upon, the great serpent could be seen. Its long body circled the boat, and it remained calm as long as nothing threatened the people of the lake.

It was their protection, though it seemed more like a lazy pet most of the time.

Mansen swam past the monster, watching as one lazy eye blinked open and shut.

A few minutes later, he broke the surface with a faint splash and closed his eyes to the mist and spray the small falls created as water fell to the rocks nearby. He let it shower him under the watch of the moonlight. The magic moon. The moon that controlled him in so many ways.

Tonight, he would use it to his advantage.

His mind swirled with plans.

He’d hit The Saucy Wench first. Get some strong drink in him. Strong as it could be these days. Whiskey was his chosen vice. It wasn’t as good as the mead of the old land, but it was damn close.

Maybe there, he’d woo a female.

The idea didn’t excite him or his cock.

So…maybe not.

He’d see Jase then. They hadn’t been on the best of terms after his last waking when he left him in the company of the vicious shieldmaiden, Vada. One of his people who had a reputation for being a man-eater. She’d had her lusty eyes set on Jase, and Mansen wasn’t one to interfere in matters of the cock. But was Jase grateful for what was probably the best night of his life? No. No, he was not.

Mansen sighed.

He really should make mending that fence a priority. It was important to have an ally on the shore. But making and keeping friends had never been easy for
Mansen. He preferred solitude, his own thoughts, and exploring. Why else would he have wanted to leave his homeland and all he knew in search of another?

He swam forward, closer to the falls. He couldn’t touch land yet. The instant he did, he would begin to shift. But he let his gaze roam over the beauty of the place. He could hardly believe that after so many years, it had hardly been altered. Hardly changed at all.

Much like him, existing but never living.

He bowed his head briefly. “Hey, up there. Ya bastards still awake? Do you still listen?” He addressed the Old Gods, the way he always did upon waking. The only thing that had changed over the years was his reverence… or lack thereof. “I not-so-humbly ask your blessings this land-cycle…”

Wait, no. This cycle would be different. He wasn’t searching for his mate this time.

“Never mind. How about this? You just keep sitting up there, watching us make amends for the offense of one man. I hereby say unto you, fuck thee.” Mansen smirked and tossed the sky a lazy salute before twisting to swim away.

But he didn’t get far before a pale thing floating in the water caught his eye in the moonlight. It was twenty yards out from the falls, in the open water, and something about it sent chills racing up his fin and all the way to his scalp.

Mansen squinted to see better in the moonlight as he cut through the rough waves to reach the calmer water. Dipping below, he peered through the wet darkness trying to put a name to what he saw as he approached.

Legs.

Mansen stopped short, letting the momentum of the water rush over him.

Legs meant human. Human meant he needed to hide.

No one was supposed to use this side of the lake. It was forbidden. Even tourists were well aware of the dangers of swimming near the North Shore. Rumors of the serpent and mysterious disappearances usually kept people away. But occasionally, one wandered where they weren’t supposed to. And when they did, they always ended up in the water. Usually naked. Because swimming in forbidden waters held some sort of excitement for them.

He eased backward, into a shadow where some Black Ash trees hung over the bank, his head barely above water. He would wait for them to leave before going to shore on the other side of the lake.

But as he watched, that feeling of foreboding didn’t leave him. It only grew. Because the pale slip of skin that protruded from the water looked like a face and it didn’t move. Not anymore than the water around it did.

Floating. The human was floating. That’s all.

But instinct was rising within him, urging him to act. Something felt… off.

Mansen ducked under the water again, squinting through the shards of moonlight that broke darkness. He saw legs, like before. One set. And they didn’t move.

He swam forward to investigate, keeping himself hidden below the surface and moving carefully so as not to disturb the water and alert the human to his presence. As he drew near, he surmised that the legs belonged to a female. Slender at the ankle, sloping up to curvy hips.

Even closer he drifted. Until he was close enough to touch. Looking up through the water he took notice of the female’s form. She was plump, with thick thighs that cradled a sexy V. Her waist dipped in at her naval before flaring out again to create the perfect foundation for her round tits.

A familiar stirring below his waist had him nearly growling. He shouldn’t be this close to her. It wasn’t wise. If she spotted him beneath the water, the tales of beasts in the lake would grow even more, and put his people at risk.

And besides. If she saw him, he’d want to fuck her.

Mansen backed away from the pretty female, putting a sparse amount of distance between them. Maybe he would find her again once he was on land. Track her and seduce her. Maybe she would be his first bit of true living. Three sex-fueled days and nights with a human goddess before he was sent back to the lake… yeah, he could handle that.

Decided, he readied to swim deeper, away from the female, except she began to sink. Mansen watched as her head dipped under and the lake seemed to swallow her up in its depths.

The hell?

He kept still, waiting for her eyes to open and catch a glimpse of him under the full moon. He wondered what color they were. Would she hit the surface screaming over what she saw?

But they didn’t blink open.

And no stream of bubbles left her nose when she should be releasing her breath.

Mouth agape.

Chest still.

Wrong. Something was wrong.

Lower she sank until they were nearly face to face. And that was when he realized what his instinct was screaming at him.

She was unconscious.

Not breathing.

Shit.

Mansen opened his mouth and let out a sharp, high pitched sound that his people had perfected over the years. It meant someone needed help. It meant come fast. It meant danger.

It meant a lot of things, but he didn’t know if anyone was left in the lake to hear it. Surely at least Elder was around still. He didn’t leave the lake much.

Mansen counted off the seconds, seven of them, before the responding sound came back to him on the water.

Send. Help. North Shore.

As soon as the message was out, he lunged forward, wrapping one arm around the limp female’s waist and arrowing his body for the surface. He swung his fin in powerful thrusts, propelling them forward until he broke the surface of the water with a splash.

He paused only long enough to try and shake the female awake. When she didn’t respond and no air filled her lungs, he began swimming for the shore. He couldn’t bring her up on the one closest to them. There was no road for an ambulance to reach it. He’d have to get her more north.

He pushed through the water, keeping her head above it as he crossed the miles of the lake in record time.

As he neared the beach, he could see the faint flow of approaching lights. Red and blue once. And a siren wailed in the distance.

One of his people had come through.

But he had to beat the authorities to the beach. Otherwise they’d see a hell of a lot more of him than they ever wanted to.

Mansen pushed harder, putting thoughts of the female’s condition out of his mind. He couldn’t help her until they were ashore.

Goddamn it.

He reached the sloping sand of the shore just as the flashing lights of a sheriff’s cruiser turned off the small dirt road twisting through the trees to the waterside.

Mansen’s fin touched the earth and a shiver ran through his body as he began to shift to human form. He never liked the feeling of his fin separating and becoming legs, of shedding his scales. But he did like having limbs and the ability to walk. He liked the way dry land felt after too long in the water.

He carried his female up the bank and laid her carefully by the water’s edge as the sheriff’s car skidded to a stop on the rocky shore. Mansen ignored it and the sirens of the approaching ambulance and began pumping
her sternum with compressions that would hopefully get her breathing again.

How long had she been there, in the water?

How did she get there?

Nothing could be answered until she woke.

If she woke.

Fuck.

Mansen growled the thought away and went harder at the compressions as the sound of heavy boots approached.

“What happened?” Sheriff Holmes’ voice was rough and alert as he kneeled beside them and removed his jacket, tossing it over her waist.

“Found her in the lake,” Mansen explained. “Just like this. Not breathing. Don’t know how long.”

Sheriff nodded. “You count and I’ll breathe.” He tilted her head back, but something in Mansen rose up at the thought of any male touching her lips. Even for something so innocent as performing CPR.

No. Should be me.

Mansen finished the compression and moved to her head, wasting no time pressing his mouth to hers and breathing air into her body. And then the sheriff took over compressions, counting them off before it was time for Mansen to breathe again.

“Come on, female,” he snarled, when he’d given her two more breaths and there was still nothing.

Her soaked hair tangled in his fist as he pushed her head back for yet another puff of air.

And then, like a damn miracle from the gods, she let out a garbled gasp and choked.

Mansen pulled back, rolling her to the side so she could cough out lake water.

The ambulance arrived, stopping just beyond the shore.

“Whew,” Sheriff Holmes breathed as the female sucked in breath after breath. “Close call, missy.”

Relief hit Mansen in the sternum like a goddamn wrecking hammer.

She lived. His female lived.

Blinking over and over, she finally tipped her head up to him, her gaze stopping on his face like he was a ghost. Maybe he looked like one. She’d scared the fucking life out of him.

And blue. Her eyes were blue. Like the water of the lake in the deep of summer.

“What’s your name, hun?” Sheriff asked as the medics wrapped a blanket around her, and another around Mansen. He didn’t need it. His body adjusted to chill just like it did being wet all the time. But he took it anyway, to cover up his naked hips.

The female dragged her gaze away from him and found the sheriff’s. She shook her head like she hadn’t heard him.

“Name. Need your name so we can get your family notified.”

“I… I…” Her voice was raspy from the coughing, but Mansen hung to it like a desperate kitten on a branch. Her name, he wanted it bad. Because she felt like a gift. One from the gods. “I… my name?”

Sheriff nodded. “Start with your first.”

She squeezed her eyes closed, her brow furrowing hard. “My name is… my… I…”

Sheriff Holmes frowned, looking to the medics for help. But they were busy getting her vitals.

“What is your name, female?” Mansen asked.

She stared at him, looking frightened and confused. But when she finally spoke, it was with a broken, tragic whisper that sent a chill straight to his heart.

“I don’t know.”