02 The Moon And The Tide - Marina's Tales (45 page)

“Au revior,” he said.

The bare light-bulb burned all night long,
casting its bleak overhead light on our grim situation. I was
lightheaded from hunger so I ate some of the food, figuring poison
was a smaller risk than weakness. I needed to be able to think and
to keep up my strength. I urged Lorelei to eat but she sniffed at
the bread suspiciously and recoiled at the cheese.

“
What is it?
” she asked.

I decided it would be best not to go into
detail, remembering my revulsion at Kalypso’s meal of live fish. I
finally coaxed her into eating some grapes, which she likened to
seaweed and managed to get down. I dumped out the rest of Peter’s
expensive champagne spitefully, taking some pleasure in the
knowledge he’d consider it wasted. I filled the bottle with water
and brought it over to the side of the mattress, urging Lorelei to
drink again. Clearly, hydration was not an issue where she came
from.

We huddled together under the blanket and I
kept her talking, trying to calm her and stop her shaking.

“
How did my mother talk to my father?
”
I wondered.

“
She learned the talk from a girl,
”
she replied, “
A girl who danced on the boat
.”

She went on to haltingly tell me the story of
how Adria had become obsessed with the world of humans, and had
taken every opportunity to eavesdrop on fishermen, boaters and
sailors. She had hidden under docks, listening and repeating
phrases she heard. It wasn’t until she befriended a young girl on
the cement boat that she made major breakthroughs in
understanding.

Stella, I thought with a wry smile. She
thought I was my mother.

Lorelei grew tired, and I tucked the blanket
around her, trying to make her comfortable. We settled down quietly
for a while and I could just make out the faint sound of surf in
the background. We were close to the sea! A small glimmer of hope
lightened my mood a bit, if we could just get out of here and make
it to the water...

“
Marina,
” Lorelei said with a
sorrowful voice, “
I’m sorry I didn’t listen to you
.”

“
I’m sorry this happened to you
,” I
felt horrible.

“
Marina?
” she asked.

“
Yes?
”

“
Is this is what cold feels like?
”

“
Yes,
” I replied, pulling more blanket
on top of her, “
It is
.
Try to sleep.
”

I missed Ethan so badly I wanted to cry, but
I struggled for composure, not wanting to frighten poor Lorelei
more than she already was. Everyone would know that I was missing
by now, and I wondered what Cruz would tell Evie. She was expecting
us tomorrow, and I imagined her panicking when she heard that I
never made it back from the sea. Would everyone think I’d gone
mermaid for good? My eyes teared up thinking about them, and I
rubbed them hard.

I had to focus; I had to stay objective.
There must be some way I could talk my way out of this, or at least
convince Peter to let Lorelei go. He was hardened against me,
unlike the big curly haired oaf. That guard might be the key. If I
could get him alone I might be able to bend him to my will. I found
myself wondering what Evie would do in this circumstance.

I looked at Lorelei, sleeping fitfully,
moaning occasionally in mermaid. I remembered the strange
telepathic scene at the mermaid council, and wondered if she was in
contact with the other hostage in her sleep.

I started shivering, and huddled down under
the blanket. Like Lorelei, I was cold, feeling the icy chill as it
crept both into my bones and deep within my soul.

CHAPTER TWENTY FIVE

Conspiracy

I barely slept that night, dozing on and off
out of sheer exhaustion only to wake to the sound of Lorelei crying
out from one nightmare after another. I did my best to soothe her,
and the anger inside of me crystallized under the pressure. Like a
lump of coal at first, it was hardening into a diamond of rage–
clear, hard and sparkling with a cold fire.

The light-bulb still burned, and I was
disoriented, unsure of the time of day. I flopped down on the
mattress, staring at the ceiling, when I noticed a tiny red light
in the duct-work above me. I bolted upright, seething with fresh
rage when I realized we were being watched.

I thought about us changing clothes and
washing with our every move being recorded and shuddered with
revulsion. A tremendous surge of emotion unlike anything I had ever
known rose up inside of me. In that instant I knew for certain that
I was capable of murder, and the thought no longer frightened me. I
gritted my teeth, made an obscene gesture to the eye in the sky,
and began to plot my next move.

Breathing steadily to calm myself I looked
about the room for projectiles to throw at the camera. There was a
plate and the tray with two glasses. I briefly wondered if I could
fashion a weapon from broken champagne glasses and decided against
it– the guards were much too big to fight. At any rate, Evie always
said that brains usually won out over brawn; I was going to have to
outwit Peter and his thugs. I struggled to regain my composure,
remembering something else Evie always said, “Revenge is a dish
best served cold”.

I took some of the lingerie and fashioned a
slingshot out of the elastic, repeatedly hurling lacy undergarments
towards the camera lens. Finally, a bra caught around it perfectly,
one of the cups covering the lens. I did a little victory dance,
cackling with amusement, and turned round to see Lorelei looking at
me apprehensively.

“
Don’t worry... I was just covering a
camera,
” I laughed.

She looked mystified and I realized that
trying to explain it was pointless. It was a small victory though,
and I chose to consider it a good start.

The door scraped open and the two big men
appeared at the entrance. Lorelei scrambled into the corner of the
room again, attempting to hide in the blankets. The curly haired
one stepped in and looked up at the covered camera. My hair stood
on end as I realized he’d been watching us. Concealing my nausea
under a shaky smile I waved at him and met his eyes, which were
once again filled with something like tortured hunger. I had to
find a way to use his weakness to my advantage.

I approached him, “What have you got there
Curly?” I purred, looking at the tray he carried.

He stopped in his tracks, staring
dumbfounded, until the other guard snapped something at him. I
turned to look at the other man and he averted his eyes, no doubt
under orders to do so. “Curly” set the tray down on the ground,
picking up the old one. He rose, and risking another glance at me
started backing out, his shaking hands rattling the empty champagne
glasses.

The other one barked at him again and stepped
forward to deposit a bundle on the floor near the tray, beating a
hasty retreat. The slam of the heavy door echoed against the bare
walls as I bent to inspect the latest offerings.

I held up a rather beautiful Fortuny pleated
silk gown. It was a simple Grecian style, in a deep rich shade of
cerulean blue. A small handwritten note fluttered out as it
unfolded. I picked up the paper.

Dearest Marina,

The pleasure of your company is requested for
an evening of dining and discourse. Please accept the gift of
formal attire and be prepared for your escort’s arrival at
eight.

Regards, Peter

Ugh, I thought, lips curling in disgust. I
tossed the dress on the bed, and picked up the blue stilettos that
came with it. I wondered how he knew my size, and then speculated
on whether or not I could use them as a weapon. I imagined myself
driving the heel into Peter’s smug face.

“
Lorelei, they’re gone now,
” I said
gently, sighing in frustration. I went over and checked out the new
tray, lifting a lidded dish to reveal some pastries and assorted
fruit. I found myself craving coffee but saw he’d chosen tea
instead. Next to the plate was a zippered bag which I opened to
reveal toiletries, cosmetics and a small digital clock.

I could see he was serious about me being on
time. Another little wave of revulsion passed through me as I
thought about the fastidious, creepy little man. At least I got a
toothbrush, I thought, grateful for small mercies.

I coaxed Lorelei out of bed and got her to
eat a little breakfast. I taught her how to brush her teeth and
spent most of the day pacing around the room, wondering what Peter
would have to say over dinner. I contemplated refusing to go along
with his little charade, but decided the need for more information
outweighed my desire to resist him. I would submit without being
submissive.

I tried to explain to Lorelei that I’d have
to leave for a little while, and she just looked at me, her big
eyes brimming with tears, her lower lip quivering. I felt awful,
and could have cheerfully strangled Peter to death on the spot. I
pushed back my murderous thoughts and focused on the task at hand.
Evie always said that anything worth doing was worth doing well, so
I put on the gown and took the time to fix my hair and apply
makeup. I figured that I might as well put my best foot forward–
whatever was in store.

Lorelei watched everything I did with
fascination, and her obsession with the relics of humanity began to
make a little more sense. Mermaids never wanted for anything, as
the bountiful sea provided for all their needs. They produced and
invented nothing, and aside from the various junk and debris that
found its way into the ocean, they never saw any of mankind’s
greatest creations. It was the ultimate irony then, that they
contained within their bloodline the magical ability to inspire
humans to greater invention and creativity. They really had no idea
what kind of power they possessed.

Lorelei burrowed under the blanket when the
two men came for me, my heart breaking when I saw her cowering in
fear. She hid her face like a small child might, somehow thinking
that if she couldn’t see us, then surely we couldn’t see her.

Curly couldn’t peel his eyes off of me and I
nodded to him, trying to smile. The other one gestured for me to
come with them and I did, brushing my hand across Curly’s as I
passed him. He sucked in his breath sharply and looked away.

“Let’s go,” I said, walking out the door
proudly, mindful of my posture. I channeled my inner Evie again as
I was led down the stark hallway to an elevator, a guard on either
side of me. I was reminded of Evie’s building too, only this
elevator had only three floors above the garage. I gathered every
detail in, taking note of anything that might help me to
escape.

The labored breathing coming from the giant
man beside me was the only sound aside from the whirring of the
machinery. I looked up at Curly to see him clenching his fists
tightly and sweating profusely. He looked like he was about to
explode.

The elevator opened to reveal a richly
paneled foyer, which in turn led out into an enormous great room. I
was surprised to be in a house so vast it surpassed Evie’s in its
opulent furnishings and grand scale. We passed through a
sumptuously appointed library, stocked from its Persian carpeted
floor to the richly frescoed ceiling with thousands of gilded and
leather bound books. Two complete sets of medieval armor flanked an
elaborately carved mahogany fireplace. It was a masculine room,
with brown leather furniture and dark woodwork.

I was led through the library and into a
trophy room, where my attention was drawn to an assortment of
weapons mounted high on the towering walls. There were huge battle
axes, swords and a collection of engraved dueling pistols and
framed jeweled daggers. I wondered if I could possibly get one down
to use on Peter.

The mounted heads of a multitude of different
animals stared down at me with glassy eyes, mute witnesses to the
drama I expected to unfold shortly. I was led to a small table set
with a service for two in front of another huge fireplace, this one
fashioned from rustic hewn field-stone and radiating heat from a
crackling fire. The flickering light and glowing coals illuminated
a mounted Grizzly bear looming in one corner, its teeth bared in a
death grimace. The two guards took up positions at each entrance,
making it clear that this was to be our meeting place. The stage is
set, I thought to myself.

“Showtime,” I muttered under my breath.

I backed up to the fireplace, warming my bare
arms in the heat radiating from the stone mantel. I looked up to
see an enormous set of curved elephant tusks, tipped in filigreed
silver. There was a leopard skin lying on the floor beneath the
table, and a pair of chairs upholstered in zebra hide with curved
antelope horns fashioned into the armrests. I shook my head at the
ignoble end that all these magnificent beasts had come to. What
sort of person surrounded themselves with all this evidence of
brutal death?

I looked up to see Peter enter the room,
overdressed in a tailored tuxedo. I stifled a snicker. He looked
just like the head waiter at one of Evie’s favorite stuffy old
restaurants.

“Nice, no?” he gestured around the room.

“If you’re into that sort of thing,” I said
sourly.

“You look lovely standing there by the fire,”
he said, taking me in from head to toe. His rude gaze made my skin
crawl, “You do that gown justice... do you know how valuable it
is?”

I realized instantly that none of this was
his, and that he was doing the bidding of someone else. Someone
clearly very rich and powerful. One thing I’d observed from being
around Evie was the studied indifference to wealth that the truly
wealthy displayed. Mentioning value was
déclassé
, a social error of the highest magnitude. I
remembered how impressed he was with the champagne.