Lords of the Deep (28 page)

He tilted his head, scanning her face curiously.

“Except bigger,” she added upon inspiration.

That seemed to please him and all the others, for that matter. “This is new … only ten years old now and, as you see, almost too small now. We are a very … prolific people.”

She frowned at her hands. How the hell was she supposed to respond to that?

Millicent, seated to her right, kicked her under the table. “Yes. I see that,” she said politely, resisting the urge to kick the woman back. “This is … really beautiful.”

“I thank you and the king thanks you,” Basil murmured.

She glanced at him sharply in surprise. Damien had called it a kingdom, but she hadn’t actually thought they had one—it was such a modern society—but she supposed it was probably like the kingdoms in Europe—still had royal families even though, for the most part, they didn’t actually rule. She managed a vague smile in response to his instead of asking him to elaborate.

She didn’t think it was actually safe to give in to her curiosity. “You’re a
meritz
, yes?” she asked, deciding
that
, at least, was a safe subject when she realized she was expected to try to make small talk.

Surprise registered on his features briefly, and then amusement lit his eyes and a faint smile curved his hard mouth. Several of the other mermen at the table chuckled. “Yes.”

She frowned thoughtfully, trying to decide whether to pursue the conversation. “What do you do … exactly?”

He grinned then. “Enforce the laws of the land.” He flicked a pointed glance at Damien and Miles.

“Oh!” She looked at Damien a little desperately for help.

He didn’t meet her gaze, but she couldn’t decide if it meant he was angry with her or he was tired.

He certainly should be! Not only had he fucked her three times, but he’d been in fights with at least half the men at the table.

“I haven’t visited Pacifica,” Cole murmured. “Is it much like Atlantica?”

Millicent, to her surprise, came to her rescue. For a good fifteen minutes she described her own visit to Pacifica, the beauty of the ‘countryside’ and the capitol city of the kingdom. Galen joined her, describing the city of Feringetti, which he hailed from.

Angie felt cold all over at the discovery that she was seated at the table with a real resident of Pacifica. Fortunately, just about the time he decided to ask her about her ‘accent’, the food arrived and everyone, apparently, was starving. They focused almost completely on the food and the conversation Basil introduced about the history of the pavilion that had stood where the current pavilion was for nearly a hundred years.

Millicent excused the two of them when they’d finished eating, saying they would ‘retire’ for the evening.

Angie hadn’t even known it
was
evening, but she wasn’t particularly surprised. She was just glad to know she’d made it through the first day of the mating ritual.

And wondered if she would make it through the next two.

* * * *

Angie had hardly even spoken to Deirdre since they’d arrived at the breeding grounds, or rather vice versa since it was Deirdre who generally did all of the talking, and the worry had crossed Angie’s mind several times that Deirdre might be angry with her.

Of course, she’d had her hands full watching over her own daughters’ ‘courtships’. Angie more than half suspected Alys and Felicity had deliberately chosen to take an area on either side of her to make certain their mother was distracted with trying to watch both. But, whether it had been deliberate or not, Deirdre had been forced to ‘patrol’ back and forth to keep an eye on their suitors.

It was possible she was just imagining that Deirdre was angry with her because she was afraid that Miles was, but she still felt that way and when Deirdre seemed to make a point of following her closely when she went to the community showers the following morning, she regarded the older mermaid a little uncertainly.

The poor woman looked almost as exhausted as she felt, she noticed, and she hadn’t even participated. She smiled at Angie in a friendly way, though, and Angie felt a glimmer of relief that was premature.

“I suppose you’re angry with Miles?” she asked tentatively.

Angie blinked at her in surprise. “Why would you think that?” she countered.

Deirdre looked unhappy. “Mayhap you just don’t like him then?”

“I
adore
Miles!” Angie exclaimed, the words tumbling from her before she even realized she was going to say them. She realized there was a truth to it that couldn’t be denied, though. “Why would you think I don’t?”

Shrugging, Deirdre smiled a little uncertainly. “You seemed to favor the others …?”

Angie felt a blush rising. She didn’t particularly
want
to have this sort of discussion with Miles’ mother, but she also didn’t want her, or more importantly, Miles, to think she didn’t care about him. She looked at Deirdre with a mixture of embarrassment and unhappiness. “I can’t help the blushing, Deirdre,” she whispered. “I can’t control it. It just happens. I haven’t
meant
to ignore him, but … there’s so many of them and every time I look around …
They
are catching my eye! Not the other way around. I didn’t even know I’d be expected to take part and I’ve no idea at all what I’m supposed to do—except I
did
figure out it’s the blush that they’re taking as a signal. But it doesn’t help to know that when I’ve got no control over it!

“Do you think Miles and Damien are angry with me?”

Deirdre patted her hand. “Damien
certainly
shouldn’t be!” she said testily. “You accepted him three times that I noticed … more than anyone besides Basil. He can’t expect to have
all
of your attention! Mayhap you could favor Miles a little more today and he wouldn’t look so hurt?”

Angie felt her throat close, felt the urge to cry. “I don’t suppose you could tell me any identifying marks he has below the waist?” she asked a little defensively. “Because every time I think I’ve found him, I look up and it’s someone else!”

Deirdre stared at her blankly for a moment and began to giggle.

Angie stared back at her, horrified by what she’d said. She discovered, though, that Deirdre’s girlish laugh was not only infectious, but she could also see the humor in the situation. Abruptly, she found herself chuckling, as well.

Deirdre leaned close. “It curves just a little to the left—his left—and he has a dark mole just to right of the eye—makes it look like it has two eyes … with one winking.”

Angie clapped a hand over her mouth, but it didn’t keep the snort of laughter in. She laughed until she hurt.

Chapter Thirteen

Angie had managed to sober by the time she joined Millicent at the breakfast table. She still felt better, but she’d gotten enough unfriendly looks between the cot where she’d slept and the dining hall to tamp her amusement.

She hadn’t actually taken Millicent’s warning seriously, but she saw the woman obviously had known what she was talking about.

She felt a little resentful about it. She supposed she could see their point, but it wasn’t as if she had any control over what the mermen did or didn’t do!

The mermen were conspicuous by their absence.

Millicent smiled a little sourly. “It would’ve been far more effective, my dear, if you’d worn that pretty face last eve for the benefit of your court. A little liveliness is always attractive.”

“If I hadn’t been half dead from getting my brains fucked out,” Angie responded tartly, “maybe I could’ve managed a little ‘liveliness’!”

Surprise flickered in Millicent’s eyes and, Angie thought, feeling a little surprise herself, a touch of respect. She smiled a little more easily. “Perhaps you could consider pacing yourself a little?”

“I’m open to suggestion.”

“It wouldn’t hurt to play a little hard to get,” she said tentatively. “I’m fairly certain you’ve riveted their attention now and they’re feeling very sure of themselves … certain their performance has assured them a place in your heart.”

Angie didn’t know about her heart, but her
coochy
certainly seemed to have a warm spot for them!
It
had begun to feel as if it had taken on a life and personality of its own, twitching expectantly and flooding with the moisture of anticipation the moment any of them grabbed her and bent her over.

And
it
seemed to know the difference between them even though she barely managed to get a glimpse of whoever it was that grabbed her half the time, because it clapped twice as enthusiastically when it was Damien or Miles … or Basil.

Damien and Miles, she could understand.
Why
her coochy was so ecstatic to feel Basil ramming in to it when, like the rest of the man—merman—it was built like a fucking tank, she wasn’t at all certain.

She held him solely responsible for the fact that she
still
couldn’t sit comfortably!

She cleared her throat. “At the risk of sounding stupid, how do you suggest I do that?”

“Don’t flash them.”

Oh! Easier said than done! She actually hadn’t blushed much or very often after the first hour or so—she’d been too rattled to feel self-conscious. Her fair, fair skin had been more or less permanently flushed thereafter, though, with a combination of exertion and desire and if even the cool waters couldn’t douse the fire in her skin she didn’t know how she was going to manage it. “I haven’t
been
flashing them,” she muttered uncomfortably. “My skin just does that when I get … uh … overheated.”

She surprised a mixture of sympathy and amusement in Millicent’s eyes when she glanced at her in dismay, realizing abruptly that, unlike Deirdre, she was pretty sure Millicent hadn’t been informed of her situation.

It surprised her to see it. Maybe she
had
misjudged Millicent?

The mermaid frowned thoughtfully. “That does present a bit of a dilemma—not that I think it was a mistake, mind you! I don’t know what your customs are, and I could see you were a little disturbed by my suggestion yesterday, but it’s considered very bad form to behave too particularly about one or two mermen … even if you have a fondness for them. Not only does it encourage them to become aggressively possessive … and believe me when I say they don’t
need
encouragement—which is very disruptive—but it creates unnecessary resentment among the other okeans, which in turn makes for more turmoil.

“As you can see from the current crop of catkins, although we
are
very prolific as Basil pointed out to you last eve, we tend to produce far more okeans than catkins … and, of course, the okeans have many more seasons when they can produce than the catkins, which only exacerbates things. It can create a volatile situation … could if our catkins weren’t generous with themselves.

“Of course, it’s up to the catkins to use their heads and make certain that they choose the sires for their offspring carefully, but in the end it’s the okeans that choose.
They
decide which mermaid catches their eye. The catkin can only choose from among those who’ve already chosen her.

“You’re fortunate. Not only is your court made up of excellent candidates, but they are aggressive enough to warn off other, less desirable, contenders. You can thank Damien, Basil, and Justin for that. Once they set their eye on you, the less desirable okeans knew it was best to look elsewhere.

“Now—since you can’t control the flashing and its giving them mixed signals, or rather confusing the poor idiots, you’ll have to try something else. Don’t freeze up every time one catches your eye. Instead, be coy, glance at two of three, as if you can’t make up your mind. It’s permissible and it will keep the lugs occupied for a while beating the hell out of one another—giving you a few moments to rest and them an opportunity to wear off a little of their mating aggression so that they can comport themselves with a little more finesse when they do pin you. Don’t worry. They really don’t want to kill each other, although they may think so when the heat is on them—they really
aren’t
very rational when they’re in the grips of the mating aggression.

“You can also smile vaguely at them without meeting anyone’s gaze and dart away playfully. They thoroughly enjoy the chase and it can be just as thoroughly enjoyable for the catkin … don’t worry, I won’t be far behind, and I’ll make sure to beat them off if they get too frisky!

“If you don’t want to be pinned and one grabs you and I’m not close enough to do it for you it’s perfectly alright to slap them with your tail fin or your hand if you can free it. Don’t worry. You can’t hit them hard enough to really hurt them once they’re in mating mode, but it
will
get their attention and remind them that they have to get permission! I don’t approve of the way some of the catkins behave, mind you! It’s
very
unladylike to bite or scratch, besides having the dangerous potential to make things turn ugly, which no one wants, but I don’t suppose one can expect low creatures to behave any better than they are!”

Angie had to digest Millicent’s instructions slowly due to the slight delay in the translation and the gaps of missing words here and there, but she thought she’d grasped it fairly well by the time she’d finished eating her breakfast.