Read FINNED (The Merworld Water Wars) Online

Authors: Sutton Shields

Tags: #young adult, #paranormal romance, #ocean, #romance, #mermaid, #Sea, #Merpeople, #Merman

FINNED (The Merworld Water Wars)

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The Merworld Water Wars

 

FINNED

(Wave One)

 

By

 

Sutton Shields

Copyright © 2012 Sutton Shields

All Rights Reserved

Further Information: http://suttonshields.blogspot.com/

http://twitter.com/SuttonShields

 

Cover Art by The Brilliant Claudia McKinney at phatpuppyart.com

Cover Design by The Amazing Ashley at bookish-brunette.com

 

This is a work of fiction. Names, places, characters, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons—living, dead, merperson, or non-merperson—business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental. The Author holds exclusive rights to this work. Unauthorized duplication is prohibited.

 

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in whole or in part, or stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, scanned, recording, or otherwise, without written permission. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of author’s rights. Please only purchase authorized editions.

 

Kindle Edition.

 

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be resold. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return this to Amazon.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

For my mama, the fish lover and true believer in the unbelievable

For my daddy, the fish hater and living encyclopedia

 

Thank you for being you

Table of Contents:

 

Chapter One: The Hoodoo Council

Chapter Two: Jeepers, Creepers

Chapter Three: Butt of the Joke

Chapter Four: A First Date with Tricks & Treats

Chapter Five: Halloween Freak Outs

Chapter Six: Visits with Mr. Campbell, Troy, & a Seal Pup

Chapter Seven: A Christmas Eve Gathering

Chapter Eight: Bite Me

Chapter Nine: History…Not Always Boring

Chapter Ten: The Cave & the Man

Chapter Eleven: The “V” Stands for Vomit

Chapter Twelve: Ballerina Interrupted

Chapter Thirteen: Sprinkles or Showers?

Chapter Fourteen: A Fair to Remember

Chapter Fifteen: Under the Sea

Chapter Sixteen: Royal Flush

Chapter Seventeen: Misty Eyed

Chapter Eighteen: The Race

Chapter Nineteen: Rundown

Chapter Twenty: Prehendo Animus

Chapter Twenty-One: Invisible Transportation, Familiar Faces, and One Red Stone

Chapter Twenty-Two: 2 + 2 = 4 Watery Graves

Chapter Twenty-Three: Lie To Me

Chapter Twenty-Four: Tyranny

Chapter Twenty-Five: Independence Day

Chapter One

 

The Hoodoo Council

 

I sat on the moldy floor of holding cell three, unbuttoned my blouse, and retrieved my forbidden deck of cards. Thank God for push-up bras and small boobs—they really make the perfect hiding place. This will be my fifth time before The Hoodoo Council.

“If my latest read doesn’t get me out of evil Helena’s institution of militant suck, then I’m screwed,” I said, flourishing my worn cards.

When I shuffle a deck of cards, I’m really shuffling lives. It hasn’t endeared me to the Imperia, a relatively new branch of government dedicated to ridding the world of oddballs like me. According to the Imperia Canon of Peculiar Malfunctions, people with
certain abilities
tend to taint world order. And here I thought we oddballs made the world a little bit safer…but maybe that’s the problem, at least for some.

One. Two. Three. Three simple shuffles and I’ve created a path. I could have stopped there—I could always stop there—but my left hand already split the deck, and the familiar yearning for the unknown begged the cards for an answer. This hunger gave the path a dead end with no U-turn. Slowly, I counted off seven cards and placed them face down on the grimy floor. My fate rested under those seven cards, cemented, unchangeable.

Don’t flip them
. My annoyingly rational conscience loves to act as boss.

“This will be my last read until I can get another deck, since the Head Hag will probably confiscate these today. So, I’m flippin’ them,” I said, answering my inner goody-goody.

Two of spades—an unexpected path.
Okay, not bad, totally part of the plan.

Four of clubs—major setback or great misfortune.
Crap
.

Jack of hearts—male, young, light eyes, light hair.
Promising.

Two of clubs—minor disappointments.
Color me shocked
.

Eight of spades—tears of sorrow and self-pity.
Fan-friggin’-tastic
.

Three of clubs—duration of time; something will happen in approximately three days, weeks, months, or years.
Next card determines what that something will be
.

Ace of spades, apex pointing up—Death. *&#@

Then, like countless times before, everything around me became a blur of colors; my instinct silenced my mind and awakened my inner vision. Buried within flashes of blue lightning, I saw my fate behind the cards: calendar…New Year’s Eve…water…no air…a boy watching me fall into nothingness.

Dear God. On December 31
st
, I’m going to die. Well, that really blows. Still, it was rather remarkable what a plain deck of cards and a funky, Cajun card-reading gene can uncover…remarkable and seriously crappy. Hey, if I die, I die. Anything would be better than being stuck here, where they try to inject away our talents or brainwash us into normality.

The heavy boots of a Retriever echoed in the distance.

“Reader seven, you have been summoned.” I was half-ass stuffing my bra with cards when he approached. “Drop the cards!” He unlocked the cell, pushed me aside, and scooped up my cards.

I threw up my hands and backed off. “Oh, was I not supposed to have those? Gee, I had no idea.”

“Sarcastic freak. Walk,” he said, thrusting a net gun into my back.

The dark, snaky corridors finally ended at a purple door covered with iron bolts. The Retriever forcefully placed my palm against the middle bolt. One by one, the locks clicked and snapped open, and the heavy door slid out of sight. Courtroom eight looked like a giant billiard rack, its glowing amethyst walls providing the only light. White spindly seats rose on each side of me. Ahead, at the apex, were six silver thrones occupied by the council members.

“Reader seven,” said a cold voice, “in the chamber.”

I stepped into a wooden box located directly in front of the council and quickly straightened my hideous purple and lime plaid uniform. Before the hearing began, the Retriever handed my cards to an elderly council member with cotton candy blue hair, and she promptly passed them to Madame Helena Hambourg, Head Hoodooess. Madame Helena reminded me of an evil fairy tale witch, only with lime hair, bright orange eyes, and a nose as long as the Chesapeake Bay Bridge.

“Before The Hoodoo Council this thirtieth day of September is case five hundred and fifty-three, Marina Jayne Valentine, occupant of The Helena Hambourg House for Maladies,” said Madame Helena. “The accused is charged with three counts of minor reading, two counts of murder prediction, and one count of aiding terrorist mentality, the latter being the most recent. Councilman Deef, please detail the counts.”

A squat man with elephant ears and a mousy face waddled towards a glittering podium on the far right of the apex. He had to use a footstool to see over the top, and I had to muffle a snort.

“Ahem. Reading counts include seeing Malorie Gullivan’s allergic reaction to chocolate covered strawberries, Montezuma’s Revenge ruining the council’s annual cruise, and one Helena Hambourg’s face-plant into a pile of manure.”

Yeah, I laughed.

“Silence from the accused!” Councilman Deef frowned at me before continuing. “Two counts of murder prediction include the assassination of former council member Fargson LaVent, as well as the strangulation of George Valentine, father of the accused.”

“It must have been a difficult loss for you,” said Madame Helena, stroking the bridge of her nose.

I glared at her. “You could’ve saved them both, Madame Helena. It’s not like I didn’t personally deliver the predictions to you about a zillion times. For some reason, you just wouldn’t listen. Curious.”

Though some of the council members squirmed in their seats, Madame Helena’s gaze remained glacial. “We cannot act on tips that were illegally obtained. Carry on, Deef.”

“Finally, the accused has aided terrorist mentality by seeing a day where the United States of America will be flooded by otherworldly means.”

Drumming her black and silver nails along her greasy nose, Madame Helena said, “How do we find the accused?”

“Guilty.” It was unanimous.

I slammed my hands on the railing of my little chamber. “If you can’t act on illegally obtained tips, then how could my reading possibly aid terrorists? You’d have to actually reveal it to a big, bad terrorist dude, and that would be acting on it, which is—wait for it—illegal!”

“Guilty!”

“And these are yours, I presume?” Madame Helena waved my cards in the air for all to see.

Sigh. “Yes.”

“Let’s see, after some rather dire reads, including, but not limited to, your Uncle John’s snowmobile accident, Grandpa Mel’s denture disaster, and Aunt Beck’s death by double chocolate éclair, we institutionalized you to break you of this malfunction, yet you continue the practice. What part of illegal don’t you understand?”

“Probably the same part you don’t,” I said, folding my arms. “Every member of The Hoodoo Council can practice magic, read cards, or do whatever it is you do, so why can’t we?”

The whole room gasped. I pushed too far.

“That is quite an allegation, Marina. If you would like to involve the Imperia, I’m sure we can arrange a…meeting.”

Yeah, that wouldn’t be good. “I apologize, Madame Hambourg.” I dropped my head and folded my hands in front of me. If the council determines I’m a rogue reader, the Imperia will order my execution. Hmm. That actually may fit with my New Year’s Eve death prediction. Crap. I needed to suck up. “Though it has been some time, I’m afraid my father’s death has affected me worse than I thought. I am sorry.” The words tasted like vinegar.

“Apology recorded. Now, ladies and gentlemen of the council, we must decide if Marina Valentine poses a risk as a rogue reader, one that cannot be cured, and one that will not tolerate banishment. This
is
her
fifth
appearance in under a year.”

Clutching the railing, I shouted, “Banishment? I’ll shrink to nothing if you banish me! Please, please, I can still be cured! I-I know I can! Please, don’t banish me! If you send me away, I’ll just…die!”

One corner of Madame Helena’s pencil-thin mouth curled triumphantly. “As per rule two of the Imperia Canon of Peculiar Malfunctions, I recommend life banishment to Saxet Shores, Texas for reader seven, Marina Jayne Valentine.”

“No! No!”

“May I hear confirmation?”

“Aye!”

“No, please, no!”

“We have unanimous confirmation, Marina. You and your mother will leave for Saxet Shores in two weeks. Hand the child her homework for day one, Deef. Prepare the assignments prior to leaving.”

Deef trundled down the spiral staircase and shoved a yellow folder in my hand. The little prick gave me a paper cut when he did.

“I have one more stipulation I’d like to add to your sentence, Miss Valentine. As Head Hoodooess, I enact council clause seventy-five, the blocking guard.”

Dang it.

“The accused is hereby blocked from any future reading. Should you touch even a single card with a bare or gloved hand, we will know, as will the Imperia. Such an offense will result in your immediate execution. Now, take the accused back to her cell, prepare reader seven’s belongings for transport, and inform her mother, Camille Valentine. Mrs. Valentine resides in Dallas, Unsuitable Zone Nine, cubicle loft number two thousand. Good travels, Marina.” Madame Helena slammed down her gavel. Case closed. “Take her away.”

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