leash tightened at her neck. “Because I get to do this.” As he’d said the words, his hand dragged the dress upward and slipped beneath to toy between her legs.
“Hmmm.” She closed her eyes and let her legs relax to allow his hand to touch her. “I do like that. But you must eat.”
“I will.” He let the dress fall, turned to the door and twisted the handle. “Thank you. I’m… glad you said that.”
Glad?
All of her fatigue, her bruises, the vague aches in her intimate parts, those vanished when she shifted, but Wolfgang did not have that advantage. So, of course he must eat.
That night, she watched him through the pool glass again, idly flicking her tail. He did eat, but not very much as far as she could judge. It made her feel sad, for some reason.
Because I’m addicting him to me? Or am I getting addicted to him?
Not just that. She was growing to like him.
This could never last. It would end. That was why there was sadness.
The Ravening would come, and what would he do then?
Through a slim gap at the side of the cloth that concealed the pool, she looked out at the ocean. It was dark but eventually the moon rose. She kept her eyes glued on the slit, hoping for – no, pining for – a glimpse of the sea.
In the painted glow of moonlight, as waves washed in with a distant booming and roaring, summoning her, she saw something that made her chest thump.
There. A tail larger than would be found on any fish venturing into the shallows. And no dorsal fin. For a microsecond, she saw the pale face of a man. A male, not a man.
She backed away from the glass, frightened. No merfolk had ever been friendly. None she had approached anyway.
They also could not reach her.
They could not, would not, rescue her anyway, even if they knew she was here.
CHAPTER 10
Their debauched relationship continued for days that stretched into what she added up to being a week. Wolfgang declared a need to study her, and yet the research never progressed much beyond them making love many times each day. His experiment seemed to be going nowhere. To walk about his house was not of any practical purpose, except when it came to fucking.
He ate less than a man of his size should, she was certain of this.
He grew thinner in the face, more haunted looking. Shadows painted his eye sockets. Whereas she stayed the same. Each night she transformed into her mermaid form and her wounds and bruises healed.
Though the vast loneliness of the ocean had been banished, it was replaced by a strained waiting, of wanting more than this isolated dedication to sex.
Yes, Wolfgang told her about his life, about science, measuring pollution, and studying the levels of tiny pieces of garbage in the sea. He even told her about dissecting fish and other sea creatures so as to do his marine research, but it seemed as if he kept some details away from her, as if he hid things. Why would he do this?
Raffaela knew little of how to interact with men or humans, or nothing recent. Secrets, he had those. And she? She had only one.
She had said everything he wanted to hear, even the name of the last man she’d pulled under, made love to, and drowned. Merrick. She regretted that; it would only have brought him sorrow.
The Ravening was coming, but they had many weeks before it was due.
Once it came, once it scratched at her with those hungry claws, she would warn Wolfgang. Then? He would either release her or kill her, or she would end up killing him. That was her secret. It was one he might figure out on his own.
A secret that was not a secret.
Sadness was coming, abysmal sadness, but now was now. A mermaid was made for the present and not the future. She made no diaries, no photographs, no true memories for him. That she did not appear in his images shook him. Though she’d never seen a photograph made as he made them with his cellphone, she understood.
For something to be a solid part of his world, an absolute fact, and yet fail to work, it would be a shock. It was a little bit like being thrown into the sea because people thought you bad luck? How callous, and how complete a denial of her very existence that had been.
The shock had never left