Fathom (Mermaids of Montana #3) - Elsa Jade Page 0,41
juice and two sample size bottles of vodka. Lana declined but took a glass of water.
When her mom held out a plastic tumbler to Sting with one eyebrow raised, the ping from his chest sent a small wave through the OJ. “Yes,” he said and accepted the tumbler delicately. “I thank you for this substance and this extraterrestrial experience. May it expand understanding and opportunities between our peoples.” He took a sip. “It burns.” He drank the rest in one gulp. “It’s good.”
Lana cut a sideways glance at him. Since when had shark-man become Tritona’s intergalactic ambassador? On her, he’d only ever used grunts and threats of alien abduction.
She scowled to herself some more as her mother gestured her toward the room’s lone chair beside a round table while taking the corner of the bed for herself. Neither of them questioned Sting taking up position in the small square of tile in front of the bathroom sink. There was nowhere else in the cramped room where he wouldn’t be looming. Except maybe if he was lying on the other side of the double bed.
Lana drank half the water to drown the ridiculous surge of jealousy.
Her mother was still watching her. She sat with both hands wrapped around the tiny vodka container to which she’d added only enough orange juice to tint the alcohol the color of a cheaply dyed carnation—the sort a girl could expect in her prom corsage. “Tell me everything, Lana. Tell me what I missed.”
Lana took a breath. “Well, once upon a time a spaceship called the Atlantyri fled a water world at war…”
It took less time than she expected. She only hit the highlights of the Tritonan history and politics that she’d read when she’d left Earth, still excited and hopeful at the thought of starting a new life on a new planet. She didn’t bother with the ugly parts that had sent her back to Earth… She still didn’t understand so much of that, and it didn’t matter anyway. But her mom, like others descended from the Atlantyri exiles, could still benefit. She finished with, “So now they are looking for their long-lost family to join them in proving that Tritona is a world with the future.”
Oh boy, now who sounded like a sales pitch?
Her mother did not, in fact, jump to her feet yelling “sign me up.” She looked down at the drink in her hand and tossed it back with a grimace. When she looked up again, her dark eyes were steady and maybe just a little suspiciously bright. “I meant you,” she said gently. “I meant what’s happened with you, Lana.”
She swallowed hard. “Me? I’ve been all over the place. Well, just here on Earth—mostly, until recently anyway. Where’ve you been? Where did you go? Why didn’t you find me…” The only way to shut herself up was to jolt out of her seat, spinning for the door.
Strong arms caught her. But not Sting.
“Don’t touch me,” she cried. “I explained that no one can touch me anymore. I don’t want to hurt you.”
Her mother hugged her tight from behind, a memory made real—and more perfectly warm than any flames or alcohol. “You didn’t, honey, not after the first few times when you were a baby. Even so young, I think you knew your own power, even if we didn’t really understand what it was.”
Lana leaned her head forward against the door with a thunk as hollow inside as she felt. “I didn’t control myself that night.”
“Oh, Lana.” Her mother’s voice was a ragged sigh. “I’m sorry I was too late to stop what happened. By the time I got that boy out of the car, police were on the scene. I couldn’t leave, didn’t want to lead them back to you. When I finally got home the next morning, you were gone.” Her grip tightened around Lana’s shoulders. “Please. Don’t leave again.”
She eased Lana away from the door and settled beside her on the end of the bed.
“There was a detective who smelled something wasn’t right, even though the fire department said it was the solvent rags and spray paint in the trunk that ignited. I was afraid of leading him to you, afraid of what he’d find, and by the time he lost interest, I couldn’t find you.” She looked down at the empty plastic bottle twisting restlessly between her fingers. Nothing came out. “And by then, I figured you’d be better off without me.”