Fathom (Mermaids of Montana #3) - Elsa Jade Page 0,61

the grand piano would crash to the floor.

“Bravissimo,” she murmured as the last of her breath squeezed out of her. “What an encore.”

Lifting her from the piano, he cradled her against his chest with one strong arm while he used his pretty new shirt to wipe down the lacquer. She should’ve been as least mildly embarrassed at their lack of discretion, but the black shine only reflected back her satisfied smirk.

Anyway, he looked better without the shirt. He looked like himself.

Nestling against him, she let her eyes half close as he carried her to her bedroom. As he nudged the door open with his bare foot, she peeked up. “How did you know which one is mine?”

“What kind of alien abduction would it be if I had to ask?”

“True, true.”

She didn’t bother even pretending to some sort of self-control as she let him carry her to the bed. When he tugged back the embroidered comforter and laid her down on the cool sheets, she didn’t fool herself that she’d had enough.

She held up her hand to him. “Stay? Tonight, I mean. We can’t… Will you stay tonight?”

Without hesitation or a single word, he slipped into the bed beside her.

And though he made not another sound, still he took her once again to the stars.

Chapter 13

The cool scent of the coming dawn woke him, though there was as yet no hint of light in the sky of Earth. Unmoving, he watched Lana sleep.

The night before, she had introduced him to Earther showers (unnecessary but charming), toothbrushing (less charming and also unnecessary since his teeth refreshed throughout his life), and spooning (charming and, he feared, a necessity he hadn’t realized before, although whether as big spoon or little he wasn’t yet sure). And in that darkness that needed neither light nor sound nor even the ceaseless, restless wash of the waves, they held each other.

But now was a new day. Although Lana’s mother had said his mission could change, that was not truly a choice he could make. He’d failed to retrieve any of the missing Atlantyri descendants, and he would be returning to Tritona empty-handed.

No, worse, he’d be leaving something behind. She’d asked for nothing of him except this night and to leave her behind when he departed. And he’d always done as commanded, believing his teeth, his tech, and his training left him impervious to hurt. All that time, he’d charged into battle, uncaring of the risk or damage he might take. It had never seemed worse than what had already been done to him. He’d never retreated until the enemy was vanquished.

He’d never known that the real harm happened on the inside of his thickened protective skin. And now for the first time he could not hold the line, knowing the danger ahead. Knowing the danger to his own heart.

So he slipped out of the bed from Lana’s side, mustering all the silence he’d ever learned under threat of pain or death.

Somehow, leaving her was worse.

The abode was nearly as quiet as he drifted through the fading scent of chocolate and vanilla. He paused in the library, and his softest ping brought the seahorses spiraling up from the back of the tank, the blue-green sparkle that was the dominant hue of water on this world scintillating gently over their dimpled skin. They danced a wordless figure on the other side of the glass, just beyond his reach.

Delicate and beautiful and just beyond his reach.

Like Lana.

With another ping, he sent them on their way. But one lingered, a living jewel hovering in the flickering water, though he had nothing for it.

“You are too tiny, cousin,” he murmured, “and poorly suited for life in my waters. Best you stay here, in the safe and quiet were nothing can touch you.”

After another moment, the seahorse drifted back to its companions, its long tail curling tight around a feathery frond of greenery. His throat was as tight as if that coiled tail was around his neck, choking off his breath and what was left of his voice.

Gathering the unbroken silence around him, he slipped out of the sleeping house and into the last moments of night.

The still pool in the center of the paved landing place in front of the house reflected the dark sky. He stepped in without a ripple. He was wearing the Earther-style clothing that Thomas had printed for him, although it was more constricting then his battle skin; should he be seen by anyone he wished for a certain