Farrah continues although it’s clear she didn’t enjoy the interruption. “Like I was saying, we may have fish parts, but we’re still females with needs.” She stops herself when she realizes she referred to herself in the plural sense. “We want and need sex. We enjoy that sensation of ache and delight.” She grows defensive when I don’t respond. “Haven’t you ever had an orgasm, Emme? Don’t you revel in them?”
“I’m not discussing my private life with you,” I reply. The realization of what’s happened slows my response. Mirror’s damaging effects reduced intercourse to a primal level, impairing her human mind and clouding her judgment. I doubt Farrah would be so blunt under better circumstances.
No wonder the Lessers engaged in sex for money so willingly and recklessly. Their animal counterparts don’t require the love or commitment I would. Fish engage in sex for the sake of procreation. To them, it’s a part of life. The same, I presume, applies to mice.
The witches surrendered to the desires of their animal counterpart. Just like Una surrendered to her predatory nature.
“You won’t tell me about your sex life because we’re not friends,” Farrah reasons.
She appears confused that I’m not as open as she. “It’s personal,” I reply, hoping to leave it at that.
Farrah’s fish lips open and close as if trying to form words. I think she means to argue. Instead she flaps her gills, whips off her robe and…
Oh, my. I was right. The rest of her is human and very naked.
Gerald positions his head on his shoulders, salivating at Farrah’s approach. But it takes him ramming his eyes shut before he takes that first bite.
Like the crunch of bone, he digs in. Farrah straddles him, her protuberant eyes rolling like marbles.
Merche removes her robe, her beady eyes shiny with desire as she watches Gerald feed.
I back away, jerking when the water stirs and Bren breaks through the surface.
Chapter Thirteen
Emme
Bren doesn’t run to me.
He charges.
In one smooth move, he leaps from the water and yanks me to him, his soaking wet clothes clinging to him as he presses me into his hard body.
A growl unlike I’ve never heard from him punches every syllable. “Are you okay?” he asks. “Are you hurt?”
I hug him tight. He’s okay. He’s safe. He’s alive.
“I’m fine,” I stammer.
His voice is more animal than man. “I don’t believe you—”
He hauls me behind him.
“What the hell is this shit?” he demands. “Is that vamp fucking a fish?”
“Um,” I say.
Okay, where to begin.
Bren backs us away. “Holy shit. He is fucking a fish.”
“Gerald is actually just feeding,” I explain.
Bren doesn’t believe me, and why would he? Farrah’s eyes are spinning, her gills and lips cyclically flapping.
“What the hell is going on here?” Bren roars. His jaw pops open when Merche pokes her head around a large pile of broken rock. “Emme, is that a goddamn hamster?”
Merche gives a little wave with her paw, her whiskers twitching anxiously. “I, um, no,” I reply. “Actually, I think she might be a guinea pig.”
Bren is not in his happy place. He reels on me. “I leave you alone for fifteen fucking seconds and this is the shit I find you in? Fish girl and leech boy going at it—”
Gerald stops feeding just to yell at him. “I need to eat, man.”
“—and a naked mouse with hooters watching the show,” Bren snarls. “This is some PT Barnum freak show, Emme. We’re getting out of here, now. Guardian of the Earth or not, I draw the line at this bullshit. Christ, I thought you were dead.”
He reaches for me, only to freeze when my eyes sting. I specifically told myself I wouldn’t cry, except here I am. With Bren this close, with him being exactly how he is, protective, mouthy, and fierce, it’s like I can cry, I can release those feelings I pushed aside.
He’s right. I almost died. Somehow, I lived and now he’s with me.
Fear replaces the anger sharpening his features. “Jesus,” he says, clutching me against
him. “That thing, it hurt you, didn’t it?”
All I can do is nod.
Bren stiffens. “How bad?”
I release a breath. “Pretty bad,” I admit.
I wipe away my tears and look up at him. “There’s a lot you need to know, and we don’t
have much time. That thing that grabbed me, she’s still out there and she’s coming for all of us.”
Fury shadows his face. “All right,” he says. “Let’s talk.”
He takes my hand and leads me as far away from Farrah and Gerald as we can manage. It’s hard to find a place to stand. In the short time that’s passed, the pool has expanded significantly and there’s not much left of the beach.
I speak fast, telling Bren all I know, including my plan.
“I don’t know about this, Em,” Bren mutters. “I say we ditch the fugly mutants and find a way out on our own.” He winks at Merche when she looks up at him. “How’s it going, fuzz face?”
Merche wrinkles her nose at him, her whiskers all a flutter. “I think she’ll prefer it if you call her Merche,” I tell him.
Bren grimaces when Gerald steps away from Farrah and Merche throws off her cloak and scrambles to him. Merche exposes her neck, offering herself eagerly. I expect jealousy from Farrah but she barely notices. She throws herself into the pool and starts doing laps, eager to cool her flushed skin.
Drops of Tahoe’s water land on my head. A new pinhole has formed in the ceiling.
“Damn it,” Bren mutters. “This whole place is coming undone.”
He lifts me and places me on an incline where the sand is less moist. It’s strange. He could have just asked me to move. He didn’t have to touch or move me as he did.
“Bren, I realize your hesitant to align with the others and that you’re anxious to leave. I am, too,” I whisper. “But I’m not certain we can find our way out without some help and I’m less certain we can take Una on without
