Bluehour: A Water Magic Novel Part 17

His smile was bigger than I had ever seen. He seemed so very happy. "I wanted to share my world with you for so long."

"Really?" My face looked surprised. It was still difficult for me to believe that Laurent took such an interest in a plain, simple girl like me.

"Yes, of course. I've dreamt of it." He was looking up at the stars with his head tilted back. "There is so much more to show you."

My eyes widened.

"In good time," he whispered. "Come, let's go back to our room."

By the time we got back to the bed and breakfast, I was exhausted. I had never swum so much in my life. Laurent wrapped me in a big fluffy towel and I sat down on the bed.

"You want to take a hot shower?" he suggested.

I yawned, trying to hold my eyelids open. "I'm afraid of that sea snake in there."

He laughed. The last thing I remember was looking at his beautiful golden face with a touch of mystery in his eyes, wondering how in the world I got so lucky to be with him. "Maybe in a minute," I mumbled as I lay my damp head of hair down on the pillow. And then I must have fallen asleep without saying another word.

When I woke up in the morning my yellow sundress was crusty against my body with dried salt.w.a.ter from the night before. I could only imagine what a mess I must have looked like. The sheer drapes were drawn from the French windows and the slightest sea breeze was blowing in causing the curtains to flutter lightly.

I heard movement in the bathroom. The water was running in the sink and there was a bit of a clatter. My curiosity was more than peeked. I could only wonder what Laurent could possibly be doing in there. It sounded like he was was.h.i.+ng dishes.

Then I heard humming, mixed trills, squeaks, and clicks. The rendition was fascinating, but so different than any song I had ever heard. And the voice sounded feminine. Suddenly, the bathroom door flew open and Brigitte glided into the bedroom with a silver tray of food.

"Breakfast time," she chanted as she carried the platter to the table by the French windows. With a cheery smile on her picturesque face, she looked at me, "Laurent put me on duty to watch you while he's hunting Sabine." Her voice was sing songy, beautiful, but I sensed she was agitated. Her nostrils were slightly flared and I felt she was trying to keep a distance from me. I could only a.s.sume that she was hungry and that I smelled better than her meal.

I moved away a little closer to the bed. She was looking as gorgeous as ever with her long black hair full and in ringlets. Her outfit fascinated me. She wore an eighteenth century French aristocratic style bodice displaying a hint of cleavage hidden beneath strings of pearls and other fine jewels hanging from her neck. I could see her swim trunks under the sheer fabric of her genie pants and her webbed feet were bare upon the floor.

All of a sudden there was a knock at the door. My body stiffened. I could only wonder who was there.

"Don't worry," Brigitte sang and then bit down hard on her lip. "I felt his vibrations all the way from the woods. It's only the delivery guy. I ordered breakfast for you."

She slipped on a pair of ornamental slippers presumably to hide her webbed feet and answered the door.

"Delivery," the young tall man clad in dress pants and a dress s.h.i.+rt with bowtie said.

Brigitte stared at him hungrily for a moment. "Entrer," she almost whispered, her French accent smooth and low as she directed him into the room. I felt like she was pacing his every movement and counting.

The guy placed a pile of fancy boxes of sustenance on the table. He squinted and then his eyes widened at the platter that Brigitte had set out with her own food. I walked over to take a closer look. There was a slab of raw meat and sliced black and white striped sea snake on china plates with various gourmet dipping sauces in saucers to the sides. But odder than that was a large shapely jar with live shrimp moving around in c.o.c.ktail sauce. The man cleared his throat and drew a blank expression.

Brigitte paid him presumably well because his unreadable expression changed to a smile as he thanked her and left quickly.

"I hope you don't mind that I took the liberty of ordering for you," she said as she pulled a chair out for me at the table on the far side, a considerable distance from her seat.

I sat down. "That's very nice of you," I mumbled awkwardly. "I usually just eat a m.u.f.fin or some cereal."

"Oh, good." Her voice lifted up to a surprising high pitch. "You're in for a treat then." She pushed the stack of fancy boxes at me sending them sliding fast across the table.

I had to stand up to stop them from sliding right off and onto the floor.

"Oops," she giggled. Sometimes I don't know my own strength.

"Are you stronger than a human?" I asked, sitting back down in my chair.

After placing a napkin across her lap, she opened the shapely gla.s.s jar and stabbed a shrimp with a silver c.o.c.ktail fork and placed the moving thing daintily in her mouth. "Mers who eat humans are exorbitantly strong, but vegetarians like us are much weaker. Though we are usually stronger than most humans even on our strict diets."

"How was I able to overpower Marine on the beach that night before school started?" I hoped I hadn't angered her with such a question.

She seemed unaffected and more interested in her crawly shrimp. "Marine is vain and she was dieting at the time. She hadn't eaten a thing in days. Some mers who get too obsessed with their looks get eating disorders and unfortunately Marine struggles with such issues. She should have known better to take you on when she was so light headed and vulnerable. Luckily, she didn't lose control of her hunger and tear you to shreds with her teeth."

I didn't know how to respond to that. "Can a mer get fat?"

Brigitte laughed, but her nostrils flared as she looked at me with sharp eyes. "We can eat a lot, but if we overdo the sugary foods and other foreign substances, our waistlines may show it slightly. We can't get fat though, just a little more shapely. Eating disorders for mers are really just vanity gone too far."

I opened the top box to see what was inside. It was a stack of blueberry pancakes with powdered sugar atop and a little vial of syrup on the side. "There's so much food just in this box." I loved what I saw so far.

"I wasn't sure what you'd like so I ordered a variety of choices." She had finished the live shrimp c.o.c.ktail by now and was dabbing her lips with her napkin. "Open the rest," she commanded excitedly. I got the feeling she loved food.

The next box was filled with chocolate truffles, cupcakes, and bright candies of many types. The third box was filled with an a.s.sortment of dainty English sandwiches. And the fourth box had a picturesque arrangement of exotic fruits.

"I like everything you picked," I said with glee as my stomach grumbled. "I don't know where to start." I took a bite of one of the colorful fruits and it was so delicious. It melted in my mouth. "Mmm... This is so good."

Brigitte smiled, seemingly delighted that I was enjoying myself.

"I've never been treated like this," I said with my mouth full. "Thank you."

She nodded happily as she dipped a slice of raw meat into a spicy looking red sauce. "Would you like to try mine?" she laughed the words.

I almost spit out a truffle at the suggestion as I laughed too. "No thanks!" I said adamantly.

She shook her head. Her posture was formal and perfect as she ate the food with princess manners much too fast. I got the impression that her teeth must be razor sharp to be able to down the tough meat at such speed.

"When will Laurent come back?" My stomach tightened. I already missed him.

"He's very determined to find Sabine. He has to lure her to a secluded place to kill her. That may be difficult if she is with her school. He said he would be back by nightfall." She was only playing with the slices of snake meat now, stabbing her fork into the black and white striped scales. I got the impression she was worried about Laurent.

"Is he in danger?" I asked staring into her blue eyes.

"We all wanted to join him in the killing, but he refused. He wouldn't allow any of us to go down with him. It's really a suicide mission because once he kills Sabine, the Trident will be after him." Her expression grew dark with her admittance.

"What's the Trident?"

"It's the mer government," she said with edge to her voice. "I need to refresh myself in the tub. Please excuse me." With that, she blotted her lips with her napkin and placed it on the table.

She glided out of the bedroom and into the bathroom, shutting the door behind her.

After about five minutes alone in the room, I found myself so anxious. All I could think about was Laurent. I was so afraid something could go wrong and Sabine could kill him instead. Surely, she must have suspected that Laurent would come after her. He said he nearly killed her once, but in his mercy he spared her life. She knew I was the only girl he had saved from her. That must have made her livid with hatred knowing that he actually cared about someone other than her.

Fifteen minutes pa.s.sed with Brigitte still in the bathroom and I felt like I was going to go out of my mind with worry over Laurent. I turned on the TV in hopes of distracting myself, but as I flipped through the channels, I saw my picture on a news show. I stopped at the broadcast. The news caster was talking about how devastated my parents were that I disappeared. They said that Laurent Moreau was the suspected kidnapper. After the short clip was over, I turned to another channel.

How could the police think Laurent had kidnapped me? He was only a kid himself. I had to tell my parents that I left of my own free will. I couldn't allow people to think that Laurent was a criminal. The idea was so unfair. But Laurent had warned me not to make any phone calls. He said it could put our lives in even greater danger.

I tried to focus on the TV as a distraction. I forced myself to watch an old movie about a dog that was traveling across the country trying to find its family that moved away. The film was terribly sad. And it only made me crazier in my mind. I too missed my family like the dog missed his. And even more than that, I missed Laurent.

I thought about how unfair it was that Laurent was sacrificing everything for me and now he was being blamed for kidnapping me. If he killed Sabine, the mer government would be after him. He would have both the Los Angeles police force after him for my kidnapping and the Trident after him for the murder of Sabine. He would be wanted by land and by water and all because of me. It wasn't fair.

I got up out of bed and started pacing the room. After nearly two hours, Brigitte was still soaking in the tub. I had to get out of this place. The waiting was driving me mad. How could I fix this tragedy? How could I turn things around? More than anything I wanted to save Laurent.

Maybe I could make my way through the woods on foot back out to the main highway and hitchhike back to Santa Monica. I could tell my parents how a girl attacked me at school and that Laurent tried to save me by taking me to this bed and breakfast. I could explain that the girl threatened to hunt me down and kill me, so I thought I should run away to hide. Laurent was only trying to protect me. Maybe they would believe that. And Laurent would be free of the charges against him.

If I didn't explain now, the situation would only get worse. Of course I would leave out all the stuff about mers and how Laurent was one. n.o.body would believe that.

But then I had to except the fact that Sabine would likely tear me to shreds and leave my head over as a trophy. I thought about how devastated my parents would be then. A dead daughter was worse than a missing one.

It didn't matter though. I had to leave Laurent. I was putting his life in danger. He was sacrificing too much for me. I had to at least clear his name with the police.

At once I walked to the door, determined to find my way home. I put my hand on the doork.n.o.b and turned it. But, suddenly, and all at once, Brigitte transported her body between me and the door.

Waiting "Where do you think you're going?" Brigitte demanded as she pushed me firmly yet gently away from the door.

I was shocked. She was keeping track of my every move from within the bathroom. I was like a prisoner. My heart was beating fast now.

"I was just going downstairs to see if there was another bathroom. I have to go and you were in ours."

"Oh, my mistake," she said. "Please use the toilet. I'm sorry. I should have realized. While I was soaking my left brain fell asleep and all logic rushed away from me." She giggled and to my surprise, her cheeks turned red from embarra.s.sment. "Why don't you take a shower too? I brought you some fresh clothes. I can't believe how rude I was to not offer sooner."

"Don't worry about it," I replied as I walked toward the restroom. "I'm sure your feeling as worried and out of sorts as I am."

She followed me into the bathroom. I was relieved to see that the bathtub was clear of sea creatures. She pulled a floral suitcase out from beneath the sink and set it on the counter.

"All these clothes are for you," she sang as she held up a beautiful teal dress with many crisscross straps in the back. "This will look magnificent on you."

"Thank you. I've never worn anything so beautiful."

"That's all going to change." A gentle smile lifted on her face. "You're one of us now and mers are fas.h.i.+on divas. Like it or not, you're going to look like a princess from here on out if I have anything to say about it."

I wasn't sure what to think about that. Maybe I would have liked the idea if I wasn't so concerned about Laurent. But even then, I was really not a princess type. I'd always been a bit of a tomboy.

"Hurry up with your shower. I want to give you a full makeover." She touched the edges of my salty hair and then glided out of the bathroom.

My mind was still on Laurent as I showered. The vanilla body wash reminded me of Laurent's scent when I found him in the bedroom freshly washed just after he returned from the ocean last night. I thought about his body and how he showed me the suctions below his stomach and the gills on the sides of his ribcage. I thought about touching his chest and feeling his heartbeat beneath. Then I remembered back to the time at swim practice when he pretended to steal a freckle from my face and called it an angel kiss. That made me smile.

I wasn't paying attention to what I was doing. The razor was too sharp and I nicked my knee again. I was a klutz when it came to shaving. The blood ran down my leg as I tried to rinse it. I got out of the shower and dried myself off quickly as Brigitte requested and went to looking for a bandage under the cabinet. I found one for kids with a cartoon picture on the flesh colored tape. It would do just fine.

As I gazed into the mirror, I combed my hair through, noticing the dark circles under my eyes. Too much excitement. I wasn't getting enough sleep. My mind was racing with too many thoughts. Besides my worry over Laurent, I was worried about my mother, father, Lucy, and Agatha.

By now, Agatha must have been going out of her mind wondering where I was and if I was okay. Poor Agatha. Somehow I had to contact her.

But I knew I couldn't.

I put the teal strappy dress on that Brigitte brought for me. I was more in the mood for sweats and a tank top, but at least I had clothes. It was thoughtful of her to help me out. For that I was grateful.

When I walked into the bedroom, Brigitte was gone. Chills ran up my spine. I knew she wouldn't leave me here. She was irrevocably loyal to Laurent. Leaving me alone would be a betrayal to him. Something must have happened.

But then I heard movement. I listened carefully. Someone was moving around under the bed.

I froze. "Brigitte?" I called out in a shaky voice, wondering if I should have run out of the room instead of calling out her name.

"Under here," she called back in rhythm.

I sighed, relieved, yet confused. I lifted up the bottom edge of the bedspread and there she was laying on her back, stringing a sh.e.l.l necklace in the dark.

"Ready for your makeover?" she asked as she slid out from beneath the bed.

"What were you doing under there?" I asked, trying to keep a neutral expression even though internally I was thinking her behavior was more than peculiar. I mean-who strings necklaces under a bed?

She stood up, giving herself plenty of s.p.a.ce between us. "Like fish, mers like to hide behind rocks. The bed is the next best thing. Gives us an advantage over predators." Her blue eyes lit up. "You look stunning in that dress!"

I looked down at the teal fabric. "It's actually pretty comfortable."

"Makeover time." Her voice lifted as she motioned me back into the bathroom. "Sit here and let me do my magic."

I paused before the toilet where she wanted me to sit and swayed my head to the side slightly. "Really, I don't usually wear makeup."

"I know," she responded in a disapproving voice. "You have all the right features, but even the most beautiful can be enhanced."

I blew air out from between my lips from that absurd statement about my beauty. She was obviously just trying to make me feel good.

"Sit, sit, sit," she insisted as she set up an elaborate makeup array on the counter.

Slightly annoyed I sat down.

In no time, she was hard at work on my face. She didn't talk to me at all. But her nostrils were flared from the close proximity and it seemed like she was mentally talking herself out of eating me alive as she ran the blush brush over my cheeks. Her tongue rolled in her mouth at one point. I think she was trying to keep herself from salivating. Maybe she was closing off her taste buds.

Her face was flawless close up. She looked perfect like a porcelain princess doll. She even smelled beautiful-like a mix of sea breeze and flowers. Brigitte was the ideal mer, even prettier than a movie star or supermodel.

She took a thin pair of delicate, yet sharp scissors and began tr.i.m.m.i.n.g my eyebrows. "Keep perfectly still," she whispered so close to my face. Then she used the sharp point of the scissors to separate my eyelashes one at a time.

That scared me to see the blade tip coming right at my eye over and over again. I was as still as I could possibly be. I was even afraid to breathe. She stretched my eyelid slightly with one hand and separated the lashes with the other.

"You're moving," she reprimanded. "Here, look. This is all I am doing." She took the scissors and started separating her eyelashes in the mirror to show me. "See-you don't need to be afraid."

But then suddenly, there was a knock at the bedroom door. It startled us and the tip of the blade slipped and nicked her eyebrow. "Ouch!" she blurted out. There was a little blood dripping down. She grabbed my bath towel that was hanging over the shower and blotted the wound on her eyebrow.

At once, she threw the towel to the ground. Her face was one of horror. "You bled on this," she screamed. I remembered how I had nicked my leg with the razor earlier and used the towel to dry off. Some of my blood must have gotten on the towel.

To my utter shock, her eyes turned a demonic pale blue. Her face elongated and her teeth grew into incisors like that of a shark.