Secrets: A Vampire Mermaid Trilogy by Sno McLaine

Author:Sno McLaine
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: romance, vampire, occult, sex, mexico, native american, san francisco, witch, mermaid, spriituality

Chapter 4

A cool breeze flooded the triple masted sails of The Poisson. The huge sailboat looked out of place in the bay, its white sails illuminated by the reflection of lights from the city. At 220 feet its reputation preceded it, with talk around town that it was indeed the largest wooden sailboat in the world. Bermuda-rigged it did not have heavy gaffs, thus requiring a much smaller crew to man it. Like any worthy ship, this one had a story, supposedly named after King Louis the XV’s chief mistress, Jeanne Antoinette Poisson.

“Lovely,” Thalassa whispered. Forgetting for a moment about the Father

“It is dangerous for us to be here.” He sounded nervous. After what had happened several nights ago, he was not eager to be back on the waters edge. “We do not know what they are. . . what he is.”

“No,” Thalassa agreed, her voice sounded far away as she continued to watch the boat. “We do not.”

Lights were on in the cabin, causing the little windows to cast an ethereal glow around the vessel. She knew the Father could not hear them as she could, his human ears limited to the smaller more immediate world around him.

He did not hear the Celtic music from the violin, or the sound of the cipin on the Bodhran drum. Then the flute, lifting the song higher, carrying it further. He could not hear him, Erechantheus, whose laughter was a deep rich sound that warmed her almost against her will.

Then they were on the deck. A white shirt appearing, marking his tall frame, the sleeves billowing attractively in the wind. They appeared small and distant at first, but as she concentrated there was soon the familiar magnification and she could see the faces. His face. Bronzed skin, strong square jaw- his smile, the way it transformed his demeanor almost instantly from something hard to something humanesque.

Their energy sparkled around them, the colors an eclectic palate, swirling in the bits of mist as the boat moved in closer toward the landing. There was a woman on deck, and then she could see another, their colorful skirts rippling like liquid as they danced.

“Sister Anne. . . “

Erechantheus was playing the violin like a fiddle, using his fingers to quicken the music, and the women dipped and danced. One of them joined him with a flute, and then she curved her body around him, her own fingers flying on her instrument.

“We can’t keep coming here . . . . it is dangerous.“

The music continued to pull her closer, even as the boat moved further across the velvet confluence of the water. She wondered what it must feel like, for that woman to have her body so close to his, against his powerful frame.

“Thalassa!”

“What?!” She startled, hearing her given name. In truth, she did not realize that he knew it, he had always called her Anne like the others. Perhaps information passed on to him from his father.

“We are not safe here!” He was clearly frustrated with her.

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