Mermaids And The Vampires Who Love Them

9. THE PREGNAPHOBIC SEAHORSE

Once I recover from the shock of the freezing water, I relax a bit, close my eyes, and let out a little telepathic sigh as the individual cells in my tail draw in the saltwater like a sponge. I feel so free! It's like being back home in Pacifica, swimming with Carla beyond the reef.

Oh, Carla! I swallow the lump that forms in my throat. Poseidon's beard, I miss her so much. Now I have to live on land and sleep in a log cabin with Shelly Sharkweather, piles of pink fabric, and gallons of perfume. On the upside, the stench will probably ward off wild animal attacks.

I dive to the bottom of the bay and swim through a thick meadow of eelgrass. The soft, long, green, ribbon-like leaves sweep against my body, awakening every nerve ending. For some weird reason, I think about Pierce.

Pierce! Holy crab! I'm down here acting like a fingerling who's never left the lagoon when I have to get to that yacht before Shelly mauls Pierce, or Pierce munches on Shelly, or some combination of the two happens.

A horrible image of Pierce and Shelly making out in some gaudy, gold-trimmed, mirrored yacht bedroom flashes through my mind and makes me queasy. The vision is so vivid. It includes a zebra-skin rug (totally gross by the way), a scarlet bedspread, and a lavender-scented bubbling Jacuzzi. If you remember, I'm only one-eighth fairy, but sometimes my visions come true. Okay, maybe a vision came true only once, but that doesn't mean it can't happen again.

I tighten the straps on my backpack and blast into turboswim. I'm going so fast that even with my enhanced mermaid eyesight, I barely notice the oily shimmer floating in the eelgrass. But as the shimmer intensifies, I feel a prickling sensation on my skin, sort of like a mild jellyfish sting. I decelerate enough to notice that there is no marine life nearby. The eelgrass is thinning and brown, and the kelp is slimy and decomposing.

I like to think I'm the kind of mermaid who can appreciate many ocean decor—I mean, not every square inch can be a coral reef—but this place is totally unpleasant. It is unlike anything I've ever seen.

I turn around, and I'm about to shove off when a telepathic shriek explodes in my brain.

"Aaargh," I reply. Poseidon's beard, that screech is loud. It sounds like someone's in trouble. Will I ever get to the party? I look around for anyone else who might help, but nope, it's up to me. Great!

"Where are you?" I telepathically holler.

I get no answer besides more of the high-pitched, brain-scrambling noise. I clench my teeth and continue looking for the source. The screaming gets shriller, and the oil gets oozier. The scream intensifies. I see an enormous limestone rock jutting out from the floor of the bay.

"Can you please stop screeching and tell me where you are?"

The noise coalesces into words: "Stay away from the cave. Save yourself!"

"What cave?"

"Go away before it's too late!"

"I could get out of here a lot faster if you'd shut up and tell me where you are." I know I don't sound all that heroic and patient, but you really need the victim to at least try to help with the rescue at a time like this.

I flit around the limestone wall and see an eerie light emanating from a fissure in the rock. I peer inside and gasp.

The water inside the cave is a pulsing kaleidoscope of indigo, yellow, pink, chartreuse, orange, and teal. It is beautiful, but scary—like a jellyfish or a sea anemone or a stingray.

"You should go away, please," begs the voice.

This has to be the place. I strip off my backpack and try to squeeze through the fissure, scraping myself on the barnacles growing along the surface of the opening as I do. Now I'm bleeding. Terrific. The sharks won't be far off.