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Captivated Ch. 01

By: Catharinas_Lit



Chapter 1 - Suspicions 

Isle of Enchantment, Eastward Lighthouse No.1 

Five years later... 

East of Maine, and only accessible via the Biddeford Ferry, a charming little island lovingly nicknamed the "Isle of Enchantment" stood serenely in the middle of the Atlantic. It was given the name by the superstitious residents of Mount Desert Island because they truly believed it was an enchanted place. 

And they weren't wrong. 

The little island was a serene, picturesque island with a small populace of very private citizens. There were never more than ten thousand people at a time, and tourists and visitors made up most of them. The permanent citizens of the island formed a very private and very close-knit community. 

Most who lived there were well-to-do individuals. They lived in beautiful cottage-style mansions overlooking the bay and the Atlantic. From their posh and privileged abodes high up the coastal cliffs, some might even experience a sense of being a god—something some residents took too seriously. However, there were also small, less impressive residences, and those were inhabited by diehard blue-collar residents who worked at the posh hotels or owned small Mom & Pops in the epic center of the island. 

Although small, Isle of Enchantment still boasted no less than two lighthouses. These stood on opposite sides of the landmass. They were referred to as Lighthouse #1 and Lighthouse #2. Both were still in excellent shape and fully functional. Since the island was situated between the mainland and the sea, fog was a very common occurrence, so lighthouses were still indispensable. But as enchanting as they were, these two lighthouses have, lately, become the bane of the local folks' peaceful existence. 

A large mainland corporation had become interested in the lighthouses. They'd already bought one lighthouse, and had set their sights set on the last remaining, privately owned beacon—Lighthouse #1. 

For months, they had worked diligently to buy the last lighthouse. They offered large sums of money, but the owner had repeatedly rejected them. The sums offered over the years grew to outrageous amounts, indicating that the shareholders of this corporation were willing to go far in order to acquire the rights to the property and the lighthouse. That insistence should have been an omen to Charles Meeren that this corporation wasn't going to take no for an answer. To his credit, though, Charles Meeren continued to rebuff and reject any and all offers until he finally just ignored them. His silence was loud and clear, but the Masterson family had never suffered defeat, and they weren't about to start now. 

AquaFine Real, Inc. was a subsidiary of Global Masterson Enterprises, Inc. It specialized in large cruise ships and the renovation of small islands, transforming them vacation paradises for the well-to-do. Global Masterson Enterprises, Inc. was a multi-billion dollar corporation that had thousands of divisions and subsidiaries that dealt in everything from real estate to fast food manufacturing to restaurant chains across the globe to advanced construction equipment. 

Although Global Masterson Inc. was a mega-corporation, it was still privately owned and operated by the Masterson family of Manhattan, New York. The Masterson's have always been a part of America's elite which inevitably gave them a sense of entitlement, and they never encountered problems money couldn't buy away...until now. 

Emboldened after paying a tidy but reasonable sum for Lighthouse #2, and with renovations already in full swing, AquaFine Real set out to offer the owner of Lighthouse #1 the same reasonable sum. Unlike the Louwenbrach family, the previous owners of Lighthouse #2 and its cliffside property, Charles J. Meeren pertinently refused to sell, and when he ignored them, it was a clear sign that he believed the matter was closed. But for the Mastersons, the issue was far from settled. 

On a warm and sunny, summer afternoon, as the sun kissed the ocean's rippling surface and made it sparkle and shimmer, the Masterson's decided to launch phase two of their plan to acquire Charles Meeren's lighthouse. 

It was a beautiful day, with colorful sails of fancy sailboats billowing in the sea breeze. The tranquil sight was mixed with the sounds of heavy million dollar yacht engines, but it all seemed to work. Only the sound of construction on Lighthouse #2 tore through the harmony, and it was most likely times like these when the islanders counted their many lucky stars that Charly Meeren hadn't sold out to that mega-corporation. 

On the west side of the island it was noisy and bustling with workers, most from the mainland but some locals as well. On the east side of the island, however, all was still peaceful and unbothered just as it had been before AquaFine Real arrived on large cargo ships with their army of construction workers, architects, designers, and historians. 

On that "unbothered" side of the island, a young woman stood on one of the large rocks on the sloping cliffside. Her bobbed, deep black curls whipped wildly around her serene and pretty face, flushed with a healthy glow. Her eyes were slightly slanted, of an extraordinary color, and fringed with thick whipping lashes. She was as still as a statue as she stared quietly out over the open sea. If you ventured a closer look, you might be able to catch a hint of sadness within their crystalline depths.  

She wore a baggy overall and blue knit sweater hoodie, but it was hardly enough to keep warm in the brisk briny breeze. Yet, she didn't seem affected by it one way or the other. Her hands were tucked in her overall pockets, her feet in rugged black workman boots firmly planted on the slippery rocks. 

She stood unafraid on a rather precarious spot atop a particularly large black rock. She appeared engrossed by the setting sun as, just below the rocky incline, her small rowboat had been tethered to a small wooden pier and it now bobbed gently in the frothy sea water. 

The sound of a Jeep's engine tore through the serenity of the moment, and she finally took her attention off of the horizon and raised her gaze. Big curious eyes moved as she glanced over her shoulder at the clifftop and at the white and red striped guardrail. Moments later, a bright yellow and black Humvee appeared before it parked in front of the railing, and moments later, the doors opened. 

Four tourists, most likely on their way to the Sumptuous Seafood Salon restaurant across the road, exited the robust vehicle. Patrons past and present swore that the Sumptuous Seafood Salon served the best Atlantic seafood this side of Heaven, so it wasn't an unusual scene to see tourists in their fancy vehicles park near the guardrail before heading to the restaurant across the road since the Sumptuous Seafood had a pathetically small parking lot for a popular restaurant. 

She noticed the tall, dark-haired man with wide shoulders first. He wore a thick ivory cable-knit sweater over his long, lean torso and wide chest, and a pair of black casual slacks on his lean hips and seemingly longer than long legs. His hair was a deep black highlighted by blue streaks under the summer's sun, and it was trimmed closely to his head and his chiseled face. He was undoubtedly handsome although she couldn't see that clearly from where she stood, but what she did notice was the quiet confidence emanating from him, even from that distance. 

He hadn't noticed her down below yet. She watched as he braced hands on the guardrail with his attention drawn out to the horizon as if to enjoy the spectacular scene of the setting sun. He had a strong and handsome profile worthy of a magazine cover. Moments later, a slim blonde beauty appeared by his side, catching his full attention. She wrapped her arms around him, and after he slipped an arm around her, and then they looked out over the sea together. It was at that moment when he finally noticed her below. 

She was certain she'd been found out since he looked straight at her. That certainty was vindicated when he lifted a hand and waved. She returned the favor before she turned, bent, and picked up a plastic trash bag at her feet. 

She slung the thing over her shoulder with ease before she made her way to higher ground. She didn't expect to see the foursome by the time she climbed the steep cliffside, but after she'd hopped her way up from rock to rock with acrobatic ease and neared the rope and wood bridge, she glanced up and there they were. 

Eyeing them curiously, she took brief note of them as her short black bob whipped around her somewhat roundish, pale face. Although she didn't look out of the ordinary from a distance, up close revealed a unique and unconventional beauty. She possessed large, sharp, and extraordinary colored eyes. They were a perfect combination of blue and green—a rare turquoise. They weren't the dull turquoise, but a vibrant hue that was fascinating to behold. 

Four pairs of eyes seemed glued to her face, and she returned an absent smile before she turned her face away and walked toward the path that led to the rope and wood bridge that stretched to the huge white lighthouse. 

But she wouldn't get far. 

"Excuse me!" a pleasant and deep voice called out to her. 

She paused at the beginning of the wooden bridge, and with trash bag still slung over her shoulder, she turned her head and watched with a curious frown as the foursome approached her, the tallest of the quartet in the cable-knit sweater slowly bringing up the rear. 

"Hi," the younger of the two dark-haired men greeted with a friendly smile. 

"Hi." 

"You work there?" he asked as he nodded in the direction of the big lighthouse. 

"No," she answered quietly, her voice soft, barely above a whisper. 

Then Ryan watched as she briefly glanced at his silent big brother, and his lips pulled into a knowing smile. When she noticed it, she looked briefly confused as she eyed his grinning face. 

"Is there something I can help you with?" she asked quietly. 

"Please excuse my manners. My name is Ryan." 

She nodded. "Hello, Ryan." 

He continued with the introductions, "And this is my fiancée Cheryl. The big guy over there is my big brother, Royce, and the lovely lady beside him is his ladyfriend, Sharon." 

She nodded to each and every one of them as they were introduced, but as beautiful as her turquoise eyes were, they appeared strangely detached. Aloof. They lacked emotion, even warmth. 

But Ryan had to admit that the girl had incredibly enchanting eyes—and a blush to match. He couldn't put his finger on it, but there was definitely something special there that made her unbelievably...pretty. 

"I didn't catch your name," he said with a charming smile. 

"That's because I didn't give it," she said. Then, as if something switched on inside her, she suddenly produced the most enchanting smile he's ever seen, and she offered her slender hand. "The name's, Charly—with a "y"." 

"Pleased to meet you, Charly with a "y"," Ryan chuckled good-humoredly, taking her hand and giving it a gentle shake. "You're about the friendliest face we've encountered on the island since we've arrived." 

"But I'm certain I won't be the last," she said, smiling friendly as she retracted her hand. 

"What's that you have in the trash bag, Charly?" Cheryl asked with friendly, smiling amber eyes. 

"Just some trash some people dumped," she answered. Then she looked quietly out to sea again and three of the four exchanged gazes when they saw her eyes glaze over as she softly added, "People shouldn't throw their litter into the sea. It's so disrespectful." 

"I agree," Ryan said quietly, but it was enough to snap her out of her trance, and she turned her head and set her attention back on him as gusts of salty winds slapped her short black curls around her pretty face. 

"Good," she said. "Then, during the course of your stay on Mount Desert, I can count on your help to keep the ocean free of debris?" 

"Absolutely." 

Cheryl, the other blonde by his side, asked, "Did you just come up from those rocks?" 

Charly looked at her and smiled. "Yes. My boat's tethered to the pier down there." 

"Looks very dangerous. You're very brave to even try to climb it." 

She smiled politely. "Oh, it's nothing. Been doing it ever since I could walk." 

"It seems like a waste of time, though," Sharon noted. "Picking up other people's trash." 

She turned her attention on the other blonde's pretty but somewhat unfriendly face. She smiled but didn't respond. 

"You were on your way to that big ol' lighthouse there," Ryan said with a curious gleam in his blue eyes. "Since you've already admitted you don't work there, the next question would naturally be...what is it that you do there? Do you live there?" 

She half turned her head pulling a twirling raven curl from her incredibly long lashes. Now her smile was a little forced and withdrawn. "Sometimes." 

"Sometimes?" 

"Yes." 

"Alone?" he asked. 

She lowered her gaze as her plump lips pressed. Then she raised her eyes and smiled. "No." Then she produced an apologetic look and said, "This bag is kinda heavy. I really gotta go. But if you're on your way to that restaurant and if you're wonderin' if the Sumptuous Seafood Salon is any good, they say they serve the best seafood 'round these parts, and they're reasonably priced." 

"Thanks," Ryan said with a curious smile. It was obvious that this girl, Charly, was impatient to leave their company. 

"Think nuthin' of it," she said with a nod. "You all enjoy and have a good evening." Then she turned to resume her way, but she was stopped once again. 

"Are you Charlene Meeren?" 

The tall guy, who had been silent all this time, finally spoke. 

She turned her head and looked over her shoulder at him as the winds whipped her curls across her brow. Then with a smile but with a hooded gaze she answered, "Nobody calls me Charlene. It's Charly with a "y"." 

"Meeren?" 

"Yes. All my life. Good guess." 

He suddenly smiled. "Would you like to join us for dinner, Miss Meeren?" he asked, ignoring the disappointed look on his pretty girlfriend's face. 

Her gaze flickered over to his lady and she caught the jealous look that briefly flickered across her delicate features before she returned her gaze with a polite smile back to him. "I think I'll need to take a rain-check. I've got a prior engagement." 

"I'll hold you to it," he said. 

With that somewhat detached but polite smile, she nodded. "Thanks for offerin', though. Mighty kind of you." Then she turned and resumed her way to the lighthouse. 

To be continued 

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I welcome all feedback, good or bad, so don't be shy!

Captivated Ch. 02



Charly sat at the counter at the McDougal Coffee Shop, staring down at her plate. It had been a week since she encountered the four tourists by the lighthouse and she's made every attempt to steer clear of them ever since. She'd been pretty successful at it so far, but her luck was about to change that morning. 

She was now quietly gazing down at the toast, over-easy eggs, and a small serving of hash browns on a plate in front of her. A steaming cup of herbal tea stood close by. As appetizing as everything looked, she hadn't touched any of it. 

She seemed to be torn between what to try first. She just sat there, shifting her gaze from one food item to the other while the kindly coffee shop owner, the fifty-four year young ex-Navy-Seal-turned-business-owner, toweled off some freshly washed white coffee mugs. 

"So, uh...think you can do it today, Charly?" Brandon "Mac" McDougal asked as he looked at her indecisive face. He watched as she lifted her mesmerizing turquoise eyes and looked at him. She looked pretty frustrated. 

"I'm gonna to give it my best." 

"Don't you always?" 

"Then the best of my best?" 

"Don't you always?" 

She gave him a wry look and he chuckled in response. 

She looked fresh, pretty, and ultra-healthy to him that morning. She had high cheekbones that had a warm blush by the chill of the morning breeze. Large, well-rested rare-colored eyes returned their full attention on her untouched plate, and were now frowning with that same indecision from before as she stared nonstop down at her plate. 

If Charly had been a girl who cared about trivial things like physical beauty, she'd be a true splendor to behold, perhaps even super-model worthy. She was tall, standing at a decent five feet eight inches, and she had a photogenic face. Far from the Vanity-cover supermodel she could be, Charly Meeren was prone to wearing shapeless, unflattering men's clothing, and she rarely showed off any part of her anatomy, even during the hottest days of the year. 

"You know, Charly," Mac said, "you really don't need to eat that just cuz other people do. We love ya just the way ya are. You know that, don't you?" He set the mug down with the others as business began to pick up. 

"I do. And thanks, Mac," she said with a brief smile. 

"Think nuthin' of it." 

Mac's waitresses were running themselves ragged now. Strange thing was, as busy as McDougal's was, chairs on either side of Charly at the counter were left vacant. For newcomers, this was strange, especially during the morning rush. For those who have lived all their lives on the island and knew Charly Meeren well, this was how it's always been. 

Charly sighed. "I know I can do it, Mac. It's just a matter of getting over my gag reflexes, you know?" 

He paused with toweling off some spoons as he frowned at her. "Yeah, I know. How couldn't I, considerin' how it always hits me right here," he pressed a big fist over his heart, "every time you tell me you need to gag when you look at my cookin'." 

"You know what I mean." She smiled and shook her head as she picked up her fork and knife just when a group of four newcomers entered the shop. Their presence caught the full and undivided attention of the other guests—except for the one who was still staring down at her plate with a nauseous look on her face. 

Ryan was the first to spot Charly at the counter. He smiled as he bent his dark head to his older brother and said something before he nodded into her direction. 

Royce raised his head and looked at the pretty girl's slender back. She, unlike everyone else there, appeared oblivious to them. 

Mac, however, had spotted them, and he stole a furtive glance at Charly as he absently toweled off another mug. "Friends of yours?" he asked, knowing full well that Charly was fully aware of the four new guests who had entered the establishment. 

"Nope," she said without even looking up from her plate. 

Royce Masterson, dressed in a warm white cable-knit sweater, sauntered over to the counter, leaving his brother to seat their ladies. He bent forward and braced elbows against the counter as he smiled at the proprietor who smiled back with a cautious gleam in his eyes. 

"Two of your specials there with coffee and orange juice, and two skimmed cheese croissants and two fruit bowls, but please hold the whipped cream. Oh, and two English Breakfast teas, please." 

Mac smiled and nodded just as one of his young waitresses returned to the counter and he looked at her. "Got that, Stella?" he asked her, and she winked and smiled as she took the tray with dirty dishes to the back. 

In the meantime, Charly was quietly sitting with untouched knife and fork as she continued to stare down at the equally untouched food on her plate. This caught the young man's attention and he looked curiously from her delicate profile to her untouched plate and back. 

"Are you going to eat that?" he asked with a friendly smile and tone. 

Without looking up, she answered, "Yep." 

He looked over at Mac who sent him a cold look—clearly disapproving of him striking up a conversation with this Charly Meeren. It peaked his curiosity. He had noticed that everyone on the island appeared to be unusually protective of this Charly Meeren. They didn't divulge anything about her even when he asked outright. 

The question is...why? It was also a question he was determined to find an answer for. 

"Eventually," she added. Then she sighed as she gave up and pushed the plate from her. She took up her mug of tea and sipped on the eerie green hot liquid with a calm, emotionless, but undeniably beautiful face. 

Mac stepped to the counter, reached under it, and pulled out a large white porcelain bowl. It looked like an oversized mortar bowl, the kind you find in apothecaries. It was chockfull of watercress salad with pickled mussels, boiled shrimp, crab, and lobster, and it was covered with plastic wrap. 

"Here ya go, Charly," Mac said as he scooted the bowl over to her with a wink. 

She set her mug down and smiled gratefully. "Thanks, Mac. I'm gonna best this—one day, and then I'll do your cookin' honor. Promise," she assured him and she smiled as he winked again before he went about his work. 

"If you don't like this," he looked down at her untouched plate, "for breakfast, why order it?" 

She removed the plastic wrap from the bowl without looking up, and answered, "I guess your mother, while having never told you that it's rude to stare at people, never read Green Eggs and Ham to you as a child?" 

"It's a simple, American breakfast, Charly. Nothing out of the ordinary," he pointed out. 

She lifted cool, true turquoise eyes and they instantly fascinated him. In the light of day, he could clearly see how crystalline they were and how thick those whipping black eyelashes were that framed them so perfectly. He had initially thought they were "falsies" as Sharon called them, but they were all hers. At any rate, Charly Meeren didn't strike him as a woman who wore cosmetics, let alone false eyelashes. 

"You're staring again." 

"I apologize for that," he said. "But it's difficult not to." 

She slowly frowned as she eyed him as if she doubted his sanity. 

"That was a compliment," he said as he turned to lean on one elbow so he could face her. 

"Hm." Her lips broke into a smile, but a cool one. "I'm sure your ladyfriend wouldn't approve of you complimenting other women unless, of course, she's accustomed to your habit." 

He didn't appear to be offended as he smiled. "Have we met before?" 

Mac paused and frowned as he looked from Charly to the handsome tourist. 

"Don't think so." 

"Are you certain?" 

"Yep," she said as she scooped more salad into her mouth and ate with gusto before she took a paper napkin and wiped her lips. As she chewed, she kept her eyes lowered as if she were contemplating something. 

"There's something about you that's very familiar. I just can't put my finger on it." 

She raised her eyes. "You shouldn't trouble yourself. I'm certain we've never met before." 

He'd been smiling all this time, but the longer he looked into her eyes, the more his smile faded. He felt drawn to her in ways he's never felt with any other woman, and he was well aware that an almost tangible tension rose between them, making her uncomfortable—or shy. He wasn't sure which. Both, however, were advantageous to him. 

She turned her gaze away and down a little too quickly. He had rattled her. He affected her. In his experience with women, that was a good sign. 

"You're staring again." 

"I know." 

She gave him a brief but annoyed look. "I don't like to be stared at." 

"I apologize," he said quietly. "I'll leave you to your breakfast." 

"Thank you," she said with a leveled look, and her gaze followed him as he left the counter and returned to his table and his group before she quietly ignored Mac's curious scrutiny and resumed her breakfast. 

**** 

Royce was just about to take his seat at the table when the door opened. A rough looking, unshaven man entered, and he looked so scruffy it was as if he hadn't seen a shower in weeks. He was just another scruffy blue-collar fisherman in a big green padded jacket, a dark blue sweater, a matching woolen cap, and faded jeans. 

Although the man had whiskers, Royce could see that he was in his early to mid-twenties and it was his scruffy look that made him appear older He didn't really look any different than most of the men on the island, but unlike them, this one intrigued him because of what was intriguing him. 

Charly Meeren. 

Royce watched as the young man paused just inside the doorway as the glass door behind him slowly closed. He ignored everyone there as his gaze went straight for the counter and fixed on Charly Meeren. Captivated, Royce watched as the guy licked his unshaven lips before he made a beeline for her, oblivious to the chuckling and muted laughter coming from the other guests. 

He came to the counter and he leaned against it as he gave her a smile of rows of yellow teeth. He had a somewhat wild look in his blue eyes as he stared at her quiet profile as she sipped her tea, but everyone could see that his gaze softened the moment he set his sights on her. 

"Hey, Charly." 

"Hey, Gems." 

"I found something that might be interestin' to you," he said softly. 

"I doubt it, Gems." 

He reached into the unzipped folds of his big jacket to take out whatever he wanted to show her, but before he could, Mac walked over to their side of the counter. 

"Hey! Hey! Hey, Gems! Don't you go bringin' in some smelly crap from the beach in my establishment again. There are kids here having their breakfast. I don't wanna have to throw you out on your ass like I did the last time." 

Gems glared fearlessly at the burly coffee shop owner. "That was a gen-u-ine pirate's wooden leg you ruined when you threw me out in the rain last time, Mac!" 

"It was a piece of your father's beach fencing, Gems, and you know it." 

"Aw, what do you know 'bout gen-u-ine sea treasure, huh Mac? Nuthin! You don't know nuthin!" Then he looked at Charly's profile as she scooped a fork full of salad between her lips, keeping her eyelashes down. "But you do, dontcha, Charly?" He smiled warmly. "I knows you do. I knows you know good, gen-u-ine sea treasures when you sees them, huh? I knows it cuz everyone knows you and your kids are gen-u-ine sea treasures, too." 

Mac growled, "That's enough, Gems." 

"You heard Mac," Charly said as she lifted her unemotional eyes. "That's enough." 

Gems frowned for a moment and didn't seem to understand the unmistakable message both Mac and Charly were sending him with their stern looks. Then he turned his head and scanned the dining room, and his gaze stopped on a group of four sitting and looking back at him. 

Charly arched an eyebrow as she watched a dawning fill his face. "You don't want to give our mainlander guests any reason to believe you're not all there, do you, Gems?" 

He turned his gaze on her and he looked wounded. "Don't say that. Not you, Charly. You know I know what I know." He nodded as he reached into his coat and pulled out a perfectly smooth oval-shaped dark blue and black stone the size of an ostrich egg. 

At the Masterson table, Ryan's fork dropped from his fingers in surprise. His brother frowned as he looked across the establishment and at the scruffy man holding a very familiar looking sea stone. 

"Do you see what I see, Royce?" Ryan asked without taking his eyes off Gems as he held the large stone carefully on top of two somewhat unclean palms while he looked at Charly Meeren with a hopeful expression. She, for her part, appeared to be ignoring him as she smiled at a waitress who set down a second mug of tea. 

"I see it, Ryan." 

"It looks exactly like the sea stone I lost years ago, only a different color...and bigger." 

"I know." 

Back at the counter, Charly was fighting to hide her temper. She was incensed that Gems had decided to come to the coffee shop that morning of all mornings, and embarrass her like that. Although she was certain he didn't have a clue, his voice was loud and it carried, and she had no doubt the mainlanders had heard what he said. 

She raised calm eyes and looked at Gem's eager face. Then she slowly shook her head as she said, "What are ya doin', Gems?" 

"I wanna know whatcha think about this, Charly? Think it's gen-u-ine?" 

"And you thought it was a good idea to bring it in here? Now?" 

"What am I 'spose to do when you won't talk to me out there?" 

Her anger ebbed and her eyes filled with deep sympathy as she gazed into his wild blue eyes for a few silent moments. "You've gotta stop it, Gems," she whispered compassionately. "You've gotta stop with this obsession or it'll drive you insane." 

"Too late." He dropped his eyes and looked at the stone in the palms of his hands. "I-I can't. I'd tried. I really did." He shook his head. "But I can't anymore, Charly." 

"You've got to try harder." 

He stared at the giant rock in the palms of his hands. He swallowed a few times and cleared his throat. "I...I read in Cap'n Steven's log about the Sacred Stone of Sea Sirens." 

A look of profound sadness fell over Charly's face as she looked away. He wasn't going to listen to her. "Gems—" 

"—He gave a good description, too." Then he lifted his gaze and looked at her quiet but taut profile. "So whatcha think, huh Charly? Does this look like the Sacred Stone of Sea Sirens?" 

"You wanna know what I think, Gems?" she asked softly as she looked at him and gazed into his eyes as she wiped her mouth. 

"Yeah," he said, nodding like a ten-year-old. "You knows I do, Charly." 

"I think you need to put that thing away." 

"You knows that's not what I wanna hear—" 

"—Put it away, Gems." She fixed him with a firm look. "Now." 

He hesitated for a second, but then he nodded and slipped the stone back into some deep inner pocket. 

"Thank you," she said. 

"But you ain't told me what you think about it—" 

"—I think," she said firmly, cutting him off, "that you need to stop sticking your nose in all those old moldy log books. It's not healthy." Then she tossed the napkin on the bowl and slid off her stool with a determined look. She had enough of him and this situation, and she damned well knew they were the center of attention. 

She made to walk away but then she paused when he stepped closer. She snapped up her head as he slowly brought his face close to hers. A hush descended over the establishment just as Mac returned from the kitchen and frowned when he saw Gems standing so close to Charly. 

"I'd seen ya, Charly," Gems whispered beneath his breath. "You know I'd seen ya." He shook his head. "I need to see ya again. Just one more time." Then he suddenly grabbed her arms and she stiffened as she glared up at him. "Just show me one more time—" 

"—Hey, Gems! You cut it out now!" Mac admonished from the other side of the counter, but when Gems didn't appear to hear him, he cursed beneath his breath and threw the dishtowel aside as he stalked around the counter. He suddenly stopped in his tracks when a taller man beat him to Gems's side. 

The mainlander had grabbed Gems by his arm and snapped him around before he shoved him back against the counter with enough force that it could done Gems' back some serious damage! 

"Don't!" Charly cried as she looked angrily at the tall mainlander. "How could you! You hurt him! You've couldn't injured him!" 

"I barely touched him," Royce defended. 

"He isn't as strong as guys like you," she said with an upset frown before she turned her attention on Gems and the hardness vanished from her face and was replaced with concern. "Are you all right, Gems?" 

"I guess," Gems said as he slowly straightened. Then he stared at her troubled face. "They don't know, Charly. They don't know that I'd seen ya so they don't understand," he said beneath his breath as he looked at her with wild eyes, not seeing how she swept her nervous gaze around the suddenly silent cafe. "It's true what they say. It's all true. You're more beautiful than any of those paintings—" 

"—That's enough, Gems!" Mac snarled as he grabbed Gems by back of his collar and shoved him into the direction of the door. "Get out! Get out now!" 

"Mac! Stop it!" Charly cried, but when she made to shoot to come to Gems' aid, a strong arm snatched around her waist and pulled her back. "Please, Mac, stop. He doesn't know what he's saying—" 

"—He needs to shut his mouth, Charly." 

"I know. I know. But please don't hurt him," she begged softly. 

"Don't you understand, Charly?" Mac said as he looked at her. "Him spittin' tales like that in front of mainlanders are gonna make them think we islanders are nothing but a bunch of inbred kooks!" 

"It doesn't matter what they think, Mac," Charly said. "People are gonna talk no matter what. I just don't want Gems hurt. You know he can't help himself." 

As if he snapped out of some trance, Gems looked around the coffee shop with big and wild blue eyes. His whisking gaze finally landed on Charly and the tall dark man standing behind her. His face went apple-red as he looked at her. "I'm so sorry, Charly—" 

"—I know," she said softly. "I know, Gems." 

He nodded once before he quickly turned about-face and, with head down, quickly exited the silent coffee shop. 

It was then when Charly realized that the mainlander still had his arms around her. She twisted her head and looked coldly up at him as he stared down at her with an unreadable look. "Kindly take your hands off of me," she said, but didn't wait for him to respond as she shook herself free and stepped away from him, turning and glaring angrily up at him. "Don't ever touch me again." 

"My apologies," Royce said as he inclined his head. "I just wanted to help—" 

"—Then keep your hands to yourself." 

Royce's jaw went rigid as a tic appeared in his cheek, but he inclined his head. "I'll keep that in mind." 

"See that you do," she said before she turned and headed for the door and quickly exited the coffee shop. 

Ryan had gotten out of his seat and made his way to his brother. "Well, that was strange," he said as he looked over his shoulder, seeing the last of Charly Meeren before she disappeared out of view. Then he turned and looked at his brother who was still staring at the door. "What was that all about?" 

"She don't like people touching her," Mac told them, and waited for both young men to look at him. "If I were you two, I'd make it a point to remember that." 

Royce arched a black eyebrow as he looked at the big burly man before he turned and returned to his table. 




Captivated Ch. 02



Ryan smiled at the burly man and nodded. "We're not trying to make waves around here, Mac," he said. 

"Then you four just steer clear of our Charly." 

Ryan didn't respond. He just gave the man a last smile before he turned and followed his brother back to their table. 

Mac watched until the mainlanders took their seat, and then he shook his head before he turned and went back behind the counter. "They're gonna be trouble for her, Stella," he muttered beneath his breath as he passed the blonde waitress. 

"Yeah. I think you're right, Mac. The sooner they're gone, the better." 

"For them, yeah," Mac said with a last frown across the coffee shop. 

**** 

"What a nutcase, huh?" Sharon said as she shook back her platinum blonde locks. 

"I don't know, Sharon," Cheryl said as she smiled and shrugged. "I mean, he looked as if he really believed what he was saying." 

"All nutcases do, Cheryl," she said wryly. "I mean, didn't you get what he was trying to say? He was implying that that Charly girl is some kind of sea creature. A Siren." 

Sharon frowned curiously. "Siren?" 

"Yes. Mermaid." 

Ryan's dark eyebrows gathered as he looked doubtfully at the elegant blonde. "Is that what you got out of that conversation? That that Gems-guy believes Charly is some kind of mermaid?" 

To his surprise, both blondes looked at him incredulously, and to his astonishment, they both asked at the same time, "You didn't?" 

**** 

Later that day, Royce stood on the deck of their yacht and looked out toward the horizon. The vessel was anchored in the simple harbor where other luxury yachts were moored, and except for Charly Meeren's rowboat, apparently all ocean vessels were required to be confined to this area. 

He was smoking a cigarette as he peered at the horizon, squinting eyes against the smoke and the setting sun. The warm glow of the sun reflected in the peaceful rippling waves of the ocean and it produced quite a spectacular seascape, but he saw none of it. He was too deep in thought to enjoy the remarkable view before him. 

His dark hair blew gently around his proud, high-held head as he let the aromatic smoke slowly leave his full lips. Behind him, his younger brother calmly walked over to the railing and came to stand beside him, slipping hands into his pockets as he looked off into the horizon as well. 

"Where are the ladies?" he asked his younger brother. 

"Down in the galley trying to whip up dinner," Ryan answered with a chuckle, and shrugged when his brother twisted his head and arched eyebrows. "Yeah. I know. We'll be getting the message soon enough that they'll want to go out to dinner." Then he looked curiously at his brother as he watched him quietly return his attention to the horizon. "Strange day today, wasn't it?" 

"Hm-mm." 

"What part struck you as the most strange?" 

Royce arched an eyebrow as he looked incredulously at his younger brother. "What part wasn't?" 

"Well, most of it had been, but what struck me as the strangest occurrence today was the fact that the ladies appeared to have heard what neither you nor I heard, and what was never said." 

"Are you talking about what happened at the coffee shop this morning?" 

"That's exactly what I'm talking about." Ryan shook his head. "They both believed that that Gems fellow implied that Charly Meeren was a mermaid." Then he chuckled and shook his head. "Why on Earth did they get that impression? That Gems fellow said nothing of the kind. He never even implied such a thing, either." 

Royce wasn't laughing. "I recall reading somewhere that sea creatures, or sea sirens, are female, and that only female humans can understand them on some sort of psychic level because they're uniquely attuned to them due to their gender." 

"You can't be serious!" Ryan cried out incredulously. "You don't seriously think that Charly Meeren is a...mermaid, do you?" 

He looked at his younger brother as he flicked his cigarette butt away. "There's something about Charly, Ry, and I aim to find out what that is." 

To be continued 

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Captivated Ch. 03



Chapter 3: Schooled 

A female's lyrical voice penetrated the thick hazy fog of his slumbering brain. He winced and groaned, becoming aware of a silky slender arm around his shoulder and neck. It stirred briefly but didn't remove its weight. 

"Hello-o-o-o-! Anyone awake aboard?! Wakee, wakee, all hands off snakies!" 

His dark head shot up from his pillow when he heard that pleasant feminine voice say the strangest thing. Had he heard her right? He wasn't sure. He squinted sleepy eyes as he fought to clear his groggy brain. Then he looked down at his bare chest and noticed that the slender arm around his neck had shifted and was now lying across it. He shook his head like a dog as he frowned. 

"All hands off...snakies?" he mumbled in groggy disbelief. 

Sharon mumbled something in her sleep beside him, but he had already removed her arm and was in the process of getting out of bed. She didn't even wake up as she nestled under the shimmering black satin sheets while he pulled on a pair of boxers. As he walked out the air-conditioned cabin, he pulled on his short black satin robe and entered the short passageway, yawning widely. He was running a hand back through his tousled black hair just when the door to another cabin opened and Ryan stepped out, barely awake himself. 

"You heard it, too, Royce?" 

"Yes." 

"What the hell is this at this godforsaken early hour? Who could that be?" Ryan mumbled with a grouchy face as he tied his robe and followed his older brother down the carpeted passageway and into the round and luxurious galley before they headed through another short passageway and into the luxurious main cabin. 

"I have an idea who it can be," Royce said with a deep frown. 

Moments later they climbed the short ladder to the deck. When his older brother opened the hatch, letting in the sharp early morning sun, Ryan's hand flew up to shield his eyes from the stinging light just as the chilly sea breeze gave him goose bumps. 

Sauntering over to the railing, Royce pulled out a box of Davidoffs from his robe pocket. He shook one up before he took it with his lips before slipping the box back into his pocket and took out his gold Zippo. He snapped it open, but then he seemed to freeze as his squinting eyes narrowed when he saw someone on the dock. It was a slender woman in a pair of loose-fitting denims and a navy-blue hoodie smiling up at him as she stood on sturdy black rubber sole boots on the pier. 

He recognized her immediately. 

"Mornin'!" Charly greeted, clearly taking both brothers aback when they realized she was the owner of the voice who woke them, and that she most definitely had been calling for them. 

Ryan looked at his brother who snapped on his lighter and cupped his hand around it against the breeze before he tilted his head and lit his cigarette. He didn't appear to be in any hurry to return a greeting to Miss Charly Meeren below. 

As the more charming between the two brothers, Ryan smiled and put up a hand. "Good morning to you too, Miss Meeren!" 

"You can just call me Charly. Everyone does," she offered kindly, showing a completely different Charly Meeren that morning. She let her admiring gaze run along the eighty-five foot white length of the yacht. "Nice boat. Big." 

"Thank you." 

She smiled up at him. "I need to ask you both something if it's okay with ya?" she said with the kindest smile as she shielded her eyes with a hand. 

"Sure. Come aboard." 

"Don't mind if I do! Thanks!" 

Ryan popped eyebrows with a surprised look as he looked at his brother. "Well isn't she chipper this morning," he mumbled beneath his breath. 

Royce was silent as he watched Charly as she headed for the ladder, and with athletic ease, climbed it. Her heavy rubber-soled boots didn't hamper her movements one bit, and within a few moments, she landed on the polished wooden deck before she clapped imaginary dust off her hands and walked over to them. 

"So, how do you two like our modest little island so far?" she asked amiably. 

Ryan still couldn't believe this was the same Charly Meeren from the day before. It was as if there were two of them: one aloof and unfriendly, one very friendly. 

"Well," he said, "we've only been here a couple of days, but it's really nice." 

"Eight days, to be precise. More than just a couple." 

"Keeping count?" Royce said. 

She didn't answer. She only smiled as she stopped in front of them before she set slender hands on her hips. "Just off the top of my head," she finally answered as she nodded with truly sparkling turquoise eyes. "And during these eight days, haven't you noticed just how pristine and litter-free it is around here? I mean, have a good look around you. You can't find so much as a candy wrapper anywhere in the water or on the pier." She narrowed eyes and smiled. "Didn't notice?" 

"Yes, of course!" Ryan said, although he hadn't really noticed before since he rarely bothered checking for litter anywhere. It just wasn't a priority of his. 

"Yep. Yep. Clean as a whistle." She nodded, pulling her upper lip between teeth for a moment as she ran her gaze around. Then, with a smile, she looked at him. "And we islanders would really like to keep it that way, if you know what I mean?" 

Ryan frowned with a curious smile. Then he looked at his brother who was clearly listening although he was acting cool and collected as he calmly smoked his cigarette. 

"Yes, I do believe we understand what you're saying." Ryan nodded. "And we promise to do our part," he assured her. 

"Good!" She reached into her hoodie pocket and pulled out a ziploc baggie that contained six waterlogged cigarette butts. 

Ryan eyed them for a few moments before he realized the real reason she was there. His hand shot to his mouth as he suppressed a burst of laughter while he noticed how Royce had paused in the middle of bringing his cigarette to his lips. 

"I assume these are yours?" she asked as she held up the baggie. 

Royce arched an eyebrow but he was looking at her, not the bag. "What makes you say that? I kind of feel discriminated against." 

She smiled politely. "You're not being discriminated against, Mr. Masterson." 

Royce arched an eyebrow. "How did you know our last names?" 

She smiled but that smile didn't reach her eyes. "We don't have Davidoff cigarettes anywhere on the island, sir. These are luxury Swiss cigarettes not widely available around these parts. And until you docked your boat here, they were nonexistent." Then she tossed the baggie over to him and he caught it to his chest. "You smoke Davidoffs," she said with a nod at the lit cigarette between his fingers. "So those butts are yours." 

He watched as she fished out a stack of pink index cards from her pocket. 

"Don't tell me," he drawled, "you're anti-smoking." 

As she focused on rearranging the index cards, she shrugged. "If by anti-smoking you mean I don't want the end result littering up our oceans, then yes." She looked up as she shook the stack between her fingers. "Otherwise, I have no opinion on the matter. My sole purpose here this morning is to help our guests understand that we would appreciate it if they helped to keep our little island and the ocean litter-free." 

She turned her attention to the younger brother and handed him a pink card. 

"What's that?" he asked curiously. 

"Island rules on waste management. We're very environmentally conscious around here." 

"I can see that." 

"Every day, at about six in the evening, a group of deputized volunteers will be by to pick up any garbage you might have. Bulky items have to be called in for special pickup." She craned her neck and pointed the tip of her finger at a phone number typed in bold at the bottom of the card. "This the number you call for special pickup. But mind you, they only come by once a week." She dropped to her feet and she smiled at him. "Only on Wednesdays which means you've missed this week's special pickup, so I'll have to ask you to keep any garbage on your boat until next week, or you can deliver it to the Island Waste Management facility at the address on the card if you can't wait until then." 

"Island Waste Management...rules?" 

"We're a tiny island surrounded by the Atlantic, and we islanders don't soil where we live. We'd appreciate it if you and your guests stick to these simple rules and guidelines during your stay so we can keep a happy and healthy island," she said kindly. Then she smiled and nodded. "Have a wonderful stay on Mount Desert," she said before she moved to return to the ladder to disembark. 

"Aren't you going to ask her, Ry?" Royce spoke up and watched her pause as she turned and looked curiously from him to his younger brother. 

"Ask me what?" she asked. 

Ryan frowned as he looked at his older brother, but Royce had his attention on Charly. "Ask you about that sea stone that fellow brought in the other day at the coffee shop. What was his name again? You referred to him as "Gems"." 

Ryan briefly frowned before he got what his big brother was telling him, but before he could speak, Royce continued, "This Gems fella seemed to be convinced that you were an expert on sea treasures like that. I wonder why he'd think that." 

She stared at him for a few seconds, and for those few seconds they saw the Charly Meeren from the other day briefly appear. Then she smiled and that Charly vanished again. "Don't mind Gems," she said with a soft chuckle. "He's always treasure hunting, and for some strange reason, he thinks I'm some expert on whatever he finds." 

"Why would he think that?" 

She shrugged. "I don't know. Maybe you should ask him?" 

"I'm asking you," he said and watched her smile briefly falter. "But I was hoping you might save my brother the time and trouble of having to look him up." 

"That's easy to do." She looked at the younger brother. "Just don't." 

"Just don't look him up, you mean?" 

She returned her attention on the older brother. "Yea. That's what I mean." 

He suddenly smiled the most charming smile in the world. "There's something you need to know about a Masterson, Charly." 

She arched eyebrows. "Yes?" 

"Once we make up our mind we want something, we don't stop until we get it." 

She felt her smile fade as she studied the twinkling in his eyes, but behind that twinkle there was an unmistakable determination that made her uneasy. She quickly hid that uneasiness behind a polite smile and a nod. 

Then he flashed a smile. "Or so I've heard," he added with a lighter tone. 

"Hm." She nodded. "Well," she said with a light sigh, "I have things to do so I need to be going. But I wish you a pleasant stay." Then she turned to leave. 

"So you won't confess your little secret?" 

She stopped but didn't immediately turn. Then she looked over her shoulder at the older Masterson brother. "Secret?" 

"Why this Gems is convinced that you're an expert on sea treasures." 

They were like a dog with a bone! She knew she had to do something to satisfy what appeared to be an insatiable curiosity that could cause her problems. Maybe if she defused the situation with some story, they'd finally let up? 

So she turned and smiled as she looked at both of them. "Gems and I grew up together," she began. "As you've seen for yourself, he's not as...worldly as either of you." 

"Or you." 

She smiled with a curious frown as she looked at the older brother. "I'm not that worldly, Mister Masterson. I've lived on this island all my life." 

"And yet my intuition tells me that you're more traveled than most people around here." 

She stared at him for a few moments before she smiled. "At any rate," she continued with the story, "Gems and I used to do a little treasure hunting as kids. I was a good storyteller back then and maybe it was wrong of me, but I used to tell tall tales about items we found that seemed to fascinate him. That's probably the reason why he believes I'm an expert on sea treasures." 

"Specifically, sea stones." 

"Sea stones?" She popped eyebrows as her eyes twinkled with mirth. "That rock he found, you mean?" She laughed charmingly, drawing an indulgent smile from him. "It's probably something he's bought off of ebay from some person who polishes stones and sells them with the same fantastic story I used to tell him. People do that to make their product interesting." 

"Maybe that happens, but that's not what happened in this case," Royce said as he closely monitored the young woman's reaction, but she was good at putting up a charming front. 

"No, Mister Masterson, I'm pretty sure that's probably the case." 

She watched as Royce lowered his eyes with a smile, and she couldn't help but admire how thick his black eyelashes were on his tanned skin. "My brother, Ryan," he began before he raised his eyes and looked at her, "is somewhat of a treasure hunter himself." 

Oh?" 

"Hm-mm," he said with a slow nod. "He once found a similar sea stone like the one your friend, Gems, was showing off to you in the coffee shop, only, he found his at the bottom of Cape Cod Bay." 

"That doesn't rule out the possibility that it might've been dropped into that bay, does it? I mean, that person could've bought the manufactured rock from some unscrupulous merchant on ebay, had buyer's remorse, and tossed it, right?" She arched an eyebrow. 

"Problem is, it wasn't manufactured and it wasn't a rock, and although my brother continues to refer to it as a "stone", it wasn't a stone, either." 

She looked at him with an almost emotionless face. "You sound pretty confident." 

"It's because I am—" 

"—Yes, I've noticed." 

He paused as he studied the look in her eye and she arched an eyebrow and folded arms. 

"I'm confident because the sea stone had been professionally appraised," he finished. 

"And the appraiser didn't know what to make of it," Ryan injected. "But he told me that it was extremely precious and valuable because it was so rare. In terms of monetary value, it was easily worth one hundred million dollars." 

"That's a lot of money." 

"Impossibly so," Ryan said with and. "It was probably worth more than that to the right collector. Probably half a million more." 

She didn't seem impressed with the quoted value but seemed more interested in something else. "Was?" she asked. 

"Unfortunately, it was lost years ago." 

"I can see why you'd be upset about that." Then she cleared her throat and rubbed a finger along the bridge of her nose. "So...were you planning on selling it? If what you say is true, that sea stone was pretty priceless." 

"It was, but not for its monetary value," Ryan said as he lowered his eyes. 

She slowly folded her arm in the fold and tilted her head; her gaze seemed to zoom in on the tic his smooth cheek. She could see that he was upset with having lost what he considered to be a very priceless possession. 

"That sea stone my brother lost," Royce continued, drawing her attention back on him, "was actually a naturally cultured pearl." 

Her eyebrows shot up. "Pearl?" 

"The biggest ever found, at least three inches larger than the Pearl of Lao Tzu that officially holds the record for being the largest naturally cultured pearl in history. But unlike the Lao Tzu pearl, which has no shine to speak of, this one was smooth, luminous, and iridescent much like the common pearl, yet it had color—something he's never seen before, and he's seen them all." 

"He?" 

"The appraiser." 

"It was beautiful," Ryan said with melancholy in his tone. "Breathtaking." Then he looked at his brother with brief accusatory look. "I wish I still had it." He looked back at Charly and saw something he couldn't place flash in her eyes. He was certain he'd seen it...and it looked a lot like...regret? "I would've loved to see what you'd think of it. It was a beautiful sea stone...a sea-foam green with dark blue veins. It was so smooth that it felt like marble." 

Royce smiled with a confused frown. "But you're not an expert on things like that, right?" 

Charly arched an eyebrow at him. "Right." Then she looked at Ryan. "I'm sorry to hear you lost it. I can see that it's upset you." 

"Actually, I didn't lose it." 

"But I thought you said—" 

"—It was taken," Royce said, and saw her gaze sweep to him. 

"How tragic," she said, briefly cocking her head...her gaze leveled and unreadable. Then she produced a friendly smile. "Well, even if you had it in your hands now, I wouldn't know what to tell you." She shook her head. "I'm no expert, so I wouldn't be of any help to you at all." Then she thumbed over her shoulder. "Anyway, I really need to be going." 

"Your children must be awake about now." 

She looked at the older brother. "What?" 

"Don't tell me you left them alone," he said, drawing a curious look from his brother. 

She looked at him for a moment. "No. I would never do that." 

"Oh, I didn't know you had kids," Ryan said with a smile. "So, what are their names? And where are they?" 

Her eyelashes flickered only once, but whatever bothered her was quickly masked as she looked at Ryan and gave him a smile that didn't reach her eyes. "Away." 

"With your husband? Boyfriend?" Ryan asked. 

"My father." She looked at him for a few moments, hiding her thoughts. 

"Charles J. Meeren." 

She looked at the older brother. "Yes. But you knew that, didn't you?" 

"We'd like to meet him," he said instead of answering her. 

She studied him for a few moments before she smiled. "I'll pass that news on to him when I see him." Then she smiled politely once again—politely and aloof. "Before I leave, I'd like to give you a bit of advice, if I may." 

"Feel free," Ryan said with a polite smile. 

"Pay Gems no mind. These days, he lives with one foot in this world and one foot someplace else." 

"A mythical world?" Ryan said with an understanding chuckle. 

She smiled. "Yea. You can say that." 

"A mythical world where mermaids are real creatures," Royce said. 

Her long eyelashes flickered again as she looked at him. "You can say that," she merely repeated. Then she perked up. "Anyway," she said with a deep breath, "just don't take what he says too seriously. He's pretty fond of tall tales and he embellishes them when he believes he has a captive audience." 

Then she turned and walked across the deck to the ladder, smiling as she swept a leg over the side. But before she could make another move, she suddenly froze as she watched as the older brother casually flicked his cigarette butt over the railing, tossing the baggie right after it! 

Her jaw dropped and, to him, the look of shock on her pretty face was priceless. It was worth his uncommon antagonistic attitude that even had his younger brother's jaw drop in shock before he looked from him to the reaction on her face. 

"Did I mention we levy heavy fines on polluters, Mister Masterson?" she said with barely contained anger. 

Royce slowly smiled. "Feel free to send me the bill." 

Her polite façade dropped and was replaced with an enraged look. Then her eyes narrowed as her jaw went rigid. "I'll be doing more than that. You can count on it." 

"Good. I'll be looking forward to it," he said before he turned and walked toward the ladder that led below deck. "Have a nice day, Miss Meeren!" he tossed over his shoulder. 

Ryan looked apologetically at her. "Please excuse my big brother, Charly. He's never like that. I guess it's too early in the morning for him to remember his manners." 

"You don't need to apologize for him, Mr. Masterson," she said as she directed her attention on him. "All I ask is that you and your guests abide by the island's waste management rules. I hope I can count on you to relay that message?" 

"Yes, of course." 

"Thank you." With that, she climbed down the ladder and hopped onto the dock. 




Captivated Ch. 03



He crossed the deck to her side and watched as she calmly walked away. 

Without missing a step, she turned around and threw up her hands. "Our bad choices have the tendency to come home to roost, Mr. Masterson! Please let your brother know that," she said before she turned around and resumed her way. "Have a good day, sir!" And with that she was out of earshot as he watched her go with a frown. 

"That stupid sonofabitch!" he growled beneath his breath before he turned and marched to the ladder that led to the deck below. He looked angry enough to give someone special a piece of his mind—and a throttling right after! 

**** 

Ryan found his rude and obnoxious older brother yawning by the counter in the galley as he prepared the morning coffee. 

"Royce? What the fuck was that all about?" he said with a harsh tone that had his brother arch an eyebrow as he half turned to look at his angry face. 

"Can you be more specific?" he asked before he closed the lid to the coffee maker. He turned and faced his upset little brother as he pulled out his pack of cigarettes. 

"You know damn well what I mean!" Ryan hissed beneath his breath, trying not to shout and wake up the ladies when everything inside him was dying to explode. He detested rude behavior and he was under the false assumption that his brother shared that opinion. 

Royce popped a black eyebrow as he snapped open his Zippo but paused with lighting his cigarette as he studied the genuinely angry look in his brother's blue eyes. "It's called strategy, Ry. I thought you'd recognize it by now." Then he lit his cigarette. 

"You were unnecessarily rude toward her!" 

"Yes, I was. If it's any consolation, it wasn't as easy as I made it look." 

"It's not any consolation whatsoever, and I really don't see how pissing off the one person who can sign over the deed of the lighthouse over to us a helpful strategy!" 

"Calm down, Ry. We don't know if she has the authority to sign anything over to anyone. At this early stage, we don't know much about anything, do we? Except, that Charly Meeren is more than meets the eye." 

"What makes you say that?" 

Royce shrugged. "It's just a hunch." 

"You heard what the waitress at that seafood restaurant said. Although she forgot to mention that Charly Meeren has kids, she did mention that she lives alone in that lighthouse. No one else. She's not married, and since her father disappeared at sea three years ago, he's most likely declared officially deceased which, in turn, will automatically transfer all rights to all property held in his name to his next living kin, which is Charly—" 

"—And until we hear back from our investigative team, we don't know if that's what happened, Ry." 

"What are you talking about?" 

"We don't know if any investigation was launched in order to find Charles J. Meeren. If no official investigation by the proper authorities has commenced, then there can't be an official declaration of his death. Since we based our written offers on the then current rightful owner of record, which is still Charles J. Meeren, I don't think an official investigation has happened. Last we looked, our attorneys have so far reported that Charles J. Meeren is still the deed holder." 

"That was six months ago. It could have changed in the meantime." 

"Hence the reason why we shouldn't panic until we hear back from our team," Royce said with arched eyebrows as he tapped the ash off his cigarette in a nearby ashtray. "It's too early in the game for you to worry about hurting Charly Meeren's feelings, Ry. Calm down. Everything will eventually go our way...as always." 

Ryan crossed his arms and cocked his head. "I assume you picking a fight with her is part of this grand strategy you've concocted?" 

"Part of it." 

"What part?" 

"The part necessary to get things rolling." 

"Attracting her anger isn't going to help us, Royce." 

"It got her attention, didn't it?" 

"Not the kind we'd want in order to seal the deal if she's the deed holder." 

"It is exactly the kind we need at this early stage." 

Ryan shook his head in disbelief. "Now maybe you've got some cockamamie plan outside the one we've come out here to execute, but common sense dictates that you don't make enemies out of people you need something from." 

"What would you suggest I should have done differently?" 

"How about putting on that infamous charm you're known for?" 

"What makes you think that wasn't what I was doing?" 

Ryan looked incredulously at him. "Pissing her off is what you call putting on the charm? In what upside down world?" 

"Trust me. I know what I'm doing." 

The sound of a heavy thump sounded above their heads and silenced them. They both looked up, then at each other. In the next instant they stalked to the ladder and sped up to the upper deck. Once there, both brothers quickly scanned the area, looking for whatever it was that made that heavy thump. Then two pairs of blue eyes riveted on a large black trash bag barely filled with debris in the middle of a puddle of sea water by the stern. It had knocked over a couple of deck chairs. 

Royce didn't say anything as he marched over to the trash bag and dropped to a knee, quickly joined by his brother. 

"Where did this come from?" Ryan asked, looking around. Then he saw his brother reach for the opening of the bag. "Careful, Royce!" Then he stalked to the yacht's side and looked down and around, looking for the culprit, but there was no one in sight. Whoever tossed that bag onto the deck must've flown off because there were no drips on the dock. 

Ryan looked over his shoulder seeing his brother rise with the trash bag in his hands and he looked up at him. He turned and came over as Royce turned the bag upside down and spilled out the contents onto the deck. His eyes widened in utmost shock when he saw a lot of empty soda and beer cans, empty wrappers, and a baggie with butts of Davidoff Blacks! 

"You gotta be kidding me..." Ryan looked utterly shocked at his grinning brother. 

"What did Charly say to you before she exited the boat?" Royce asked before he bent and picked up the drenched debris and stuffed it back into the bag. 

"You can't seriously think Charly Meeren had anything to do with this," Ryan said in disbelief. 

"Who else, Ry?" 

"No." He shook his head. "It couldn't be her. I saw her walk away! There's no way she carried this heavy trash bag of garbage back over the boardwalk and dock before tossing it onto the deck without being seen. This boat isn't exactly close to sea level, you know?" He shook his dark head. "It just doesn't make sense." 

"I have a feeling, that the longer we're here at Mount Desert Island, the less things are going to make sense to us." Royce looked at his little brother. "So what did she say to you before she disembarked?" 

Ryan sighed as he set his hands on hips. "Well, when I tried to apologize on your behalf for your rude behavior," he said, ignoring his older brother's wry look, "she left advising me to remind you to keep to the waste management rules and regulations." He looked earnestly at his older brother. "She said it with a smile that didn't reach her eyes, you know what I mean?" 

"Yeah, I know she was pissed." Royce nodded once. "Did she say anything else?" 

"Yes," Ryan nodded once. "She said, 'bad decisions have the tendency to come home to roost.'" He looked at the trash bag. "I guess now we know what she meant by that." 

"So my gamble paid off," Royce said thoughtfully as he rose to his feet with dripping trash bag in hand and crossed the deck before he stuffed it into the large hidden storage box and dropped the lid. 

Ryan frowned curiously. "Gamble had paid off? What do you mean?" 

"Ms. Charly Meeren is much more than meets the eye. From the moment we arrived, she'd been wearing a mask. As long as we remained polite and accommodating, she'd never take it off. So I decided to shake things up. I'm surprised that it didn't take much for that mask, that disguise she wore, to drop. We now have her full and undivided attention." He shook his head. "She won't be ignoring us now. In fact, she'll be watching us closely, and that's what we need her to do. It'll benefit us." 

"I don't see how, Royce," Ryan said doubtfully. 

"You will," he said with a smirk. "You will." 

Ryan wasn't one hundred percent on board with his brother, and he felt it would be smarter to be wary. Truth of the matter was, that was a good position to keep since his older brother was spot on that Charly Meeren was more than met their eyes. They weren't dealing with your regular tree-hugging environmentalist. No. Charly Meeren was not your regular anything. 

Unbeknownst to the Masterson brothers, they were gaining more than just Charly Meeren's attention. They were drawing her disapproval. If they were unfortunate enough to have that escalate to discontent, they'll only be one step away from evoking a very dangerous part of her nature. 

And that could create mayhem the likes they've never seen... 

To be continued 

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I welcome all feedback, good or bad, so don't be shy!



Captivated Ch. 04



Uncomfortable Revelations 

Pete's Postal & Frames Shoppe 

On a deep red piece of soft velvet cloth spread out on the glass counter, a smooth blue with black vein stone that Gems swore was "the Siren's Soul" was carefully laid out for scrutiny. Two men, Gems and Pete Ashton, standing on opposite sides of the display counter were bent over, looking at the remarkable piece with earnest eyes, their crowns nearly touching. 

Pete wore a headband magnifier as he peered down at the magnificent, far-too-perfect stone. He nodded with interest. "Fascinating." 

"It's the real deal, Pete, I swear!" Gems said. "I know if I can just get this darn thing to work, it'll bring out the real Charly. I just know it!" Gems said, feeling uneasy in Pete's shop because of all the smiling faces framed in various picture frames looking down at him. Those things always made him feel as if they were all laughing at him, just like he knew everyone on the island were always laughing at him...and not always behind his back, either. 

"Well, I don't know 'bout that, Gems. I do think this stone looks real strange. Never seen anything like it. I mean, it looks as perfect as if it were made by some giant clam, you know?" 

"You mean, like a pearl?" Gems asked with big eyes. 

"Yea," Pete said with a nod. "I don't see no seams so it ain't made in no factory." 

Then he lifted the magnifier and flipped it back before he braced hands against the counter. He shook his head as he looked at the younger man's scruffy face. "It's real nice, Gems, but why did ya bring it here? Thinkin' of sellin?" 

Gems looked as if he'd just been slapped in the face! "Thinkin' of sellin'?!" he cried, his voice skipping. "Heck no, Pete! No amount of money is gonna have me part with this!" 

Pete shrugged. "So why'd you bring it in?" 

Gems shrugged. "Wanted me a second opinion." 

"Uh-huh. More like your hundredth opinion." 

Gems frowned uneasily. "Whaddya talkin' about?" 

"Oh come on, Gems! You know what I'm talkin' about! People been talkin'. They'd been sayin' that you've been haulin' this stone to just about every shop on the island. Mrs. Dazzle was talkin' about you bringin' the stone by the flower shop the other day. Really, Gems? A flower shop?" 

"Yea, well, I just wanted to know what Mrs. Dazzle thought about it." He made a face. "She wasn't very obliging." 

"She's a florist, not an appraiser. Maybe you should take it to Johnson's Jewelry Shop? He's a bona fide appraiser. He appraised Mrs. Dolen's mother's old wedding ring last year." Pete chuckled. "Who would'a thought that old piece of jewelry would be worth twenty thousand dollars? Anyways, Mr. Johnson is a real smart guy. Came from New York and did a bunch of appraisin' there so he's got a lot of experience. I'm sure he can tell you where this thing's been manufactured and maybe he can even tell you by whom." 

Gems made a face. "Bill told me never to come down again. I don't wanna piss him off again cuz he can get real mean, ya know?" 

Pete chuckled. "Yea. I know." 

" 'Sides, you got that eye-glass thing, too," Gems said as he eyed the stone. "So you don't see anything that says it's man-made?" 

"Nope. But that don't mean it ain't, and just because I've got a magnifier don't mean I'm an expert, Gems. But if that thing's man-made that artist sure knows his craft cuz he knew how to hide any seams and filin'." 

Gems shook his head. "Nah. I knows it ain't been made by no man." 

"Well, maybe a woman?" 

"No woman, neither," Gems said with confidence. "The only artist that's made this here thing is the sea siren herself." 

Pete frowned with a doubtful look just when the bell over the door rang. 

Both men looked up to find none other than the object of Gems' obsession walk in. She was dressed in a man's blue/black flannel shirt that was so oversized that she had to roll the cuffs back a couple of times just to see her hands. The damn thing hung straight down to mid-thigh and from there baggy denims continued down to bunch around solid rubber-soled boots. 

"Hi, Pete!" Charly greeted. 

"Hey there, Charly." 

Gems pretended he wasn't even there as he heard Charly walk up to the counter. He stole a few side-glances her way as he carefully wrapped up the stone and then held it protectively against him. When he felt her looking at him, he went red in the face. 

"Hey, Gems." 

"Hi, Charly." 

"Didn't see you at Mac's this mornin'," she said as she handed Pete a receipt. "That's not like you." She smiled as she leaned her head in his direction. "I almost missed ya." 

Gems bobbed his head and gave a twitchy smile as Pete shook his head and took the receipt from Charly's hand. "I-I was busy," he said uncomfortably. "No time to go out and do nuthin'." 

Charly smiled with unemotional eyes. "Okay." 

"Your photos came out real nice, Charly. You captured the sunset off the northern black rocks perfectly. Betcha gonna get a nice sum for them," Pete said as he headed for a wooden slide-out cabinet and pulled open a drawer before he ran fingers over the files in the section marked with an "L-O". 

"Excellent." Charly nodded while she stood calmly by the counter. 

Gems stole another sidelong glance. "Have you heard anything from your Pa?" 

She looked at him with unreadable turquoise eyes. "No." 

"Shouldn't he be back by now? It's been a while." 

"I guess he decided to take an extended vacation." 

"You sure, Charly? Mister Meeren never takes vacations." 

"There's a first time for everything." 

"You don't think he's, maybe, lost at sea or something like that?" 

She smiled as she looked from him to the deep red cloth he was clutching at his chest. She knew he was aware that she was staring at it because his long fingers wrapped tighter around it. "Is that that blue stone you got there, Gems?" 

Gems sniffed and fidgeted a little. "Maybe. Maybe not." He was getting more and more uncomfortable the longer she looked at him with those pretty and strange eyes. "And if it is, it's mine, Charly. Found it fair and square." 

She arched an eyebrow. "Wasn't gonna try and take it from you, Gems." 

"Yea, cuz that would be theft and aggravated assault." 

She arched a surprised eyebrow. "Aggravated assault? Don't know if you know it, Gems, but you're twice my size—" 

"—But you knows, I knows you're ten times stronger than any man." He gave her a quick, distrustful look before he leaned out the other way as if she was already reaching for the stone. "You can't take it anyways, even if you wanted." 

She frowned with a curious smile. "I wasn't planning to." 

"Yea, cuz, once a person has the Siren Stone, the siren can't get it back unless he says she can. She can't even touch it without his permission." He eyed her suspiciously. "They also say the sea siren has to obey the one who has the stone." 

"They?" 

Pete frowned over his shoulder, his curious gaze going from Charly to Gems as he pulled out a big envelope. It contained photos that she'd brought in to develop the other day. "Do you know what he's talkin' about, Charly?" 

"Not really," she said as she kept her gaze steady on the scruffier and younger man. "But I'm sure Gems is gonna tell us whether we want him to or not." She looked at him without a smile on her lips. "Like he always does." 

"Yea," he nodded as he licked his lips. "I'm talkin' about people who know about these things and who write about sea sirens cuz they know all about them." 

Her eyebrows shot up. "You've been reading old Captain Steven's log books again, haven't you?" She chuckled as she shook her head. "What did I tell you about those moldy old books? You really need to get rid of them, Gems—" 

"—They say she can't refuse him anythin'. She's got to obey whatever the owner of her stone tells her to do because the stone is the Siren's soul, and the one who owns the stone—" 

"—Owns the soul," she finished with a smile, seeing his surprised look. "That kinda went without sayin'," she confided before she winked. 

Pete came to stand in front of her and handed her the large envelope. "Here ya go, Charly." 

"Thanks, Pete," she said with a kind smile. "Oh, and can you put it on my tab? I'm kinda short this month on account the Ferry's a week late with mail and my publisher's check for the other photographs hasn't come in from the mainland." 

"So you're a little short on cash?" Pete said with a twinkle in his eye. 

Her smile faded as she cocked her head with a curious look. "Yea." 

"Well, it's your lucky day." 

"Is it now?" 

"Yea," Pete nodded with a big smile. "I've got good news for you, Charly. Real good news." 

"Good. I can use some." 

"Yep." Pete nodded. "You're gonna like this. I finally sold that old coin." 

She frowned, confused. "Coin?" 

"Your pa's coin, the one he brought in a few years back and what's been lying here collectin' dust. Got a real good price for it, too." 

"Wow. Really?" Her eyes lit up. 

"Yep." Pete nodded again. "Sold it to that handsome mainlander the other day. Paid twice as much for it than your pa'd been askin' for it." He winked as he leaned her way. "Well, I actually doubled the price and told him it was firm." He winked again. "He must've seen I was serious because he didn't flinch and even paid cash," he said before he bent and pulled open a drawer under the counter. 

"Oh." 

"Yea," Pete said as he pulled out a white envelope, not catching the brief drop of her smile. "And I took my full commission off of it since, well, you can afford it," he added as he set the thick envelope on the glass counter surface. 

Her eyes dropped as she looked at the envelope. "Thanks, Pete," she said with a friendly smile. "But I was thinking," she lifted her eyes and smiled, "can you hold on to that money 'til Pa returns? It's his, after all, and I don't feel comfortable taking it on his behalf, know what I mean?" 

He looked taken aback as his smile faded and a sympathetic gleam appeared in his eyes. "Yea, sure, Charly. I can do that," he said with a nod and returned the envelope to its drawer. "I'll just put the photos on your tab then." 

"Thanks, Pete," she said gratefully. Then she took her photographs and turned and left, saying her good-bye as she exited the shop. 

She closed the shop door and stepped off the stone step. She suddenly had a sad look on her face, and she paused for a moment, squeezing her eyes shut. Then she opened them and they shimmered suspiciously as she proceeded to walk along the shops.  

Tears burned in her eyes. She swallowed big, hoping to push them and her unstable emotions back. When she felt a single teardrop trickle down her cheek, she knew she needed some water posthaste. 

She stopped by a public water fountain and had a refreshing drink. It helped to water down her suddenly thick saliva caused by her tears—a physical flaw in her genetics that could damage her through rapid dehydration if she didn't quickly replenish herself. It was a curse to have this physical ailment—among other, equally detrimental ailments. 

But she missed her father enormously. She worried deeply about him. Those tears have been threatening to fall for years now but she'd always been able to hold them at bay...until now. It still broke her inside that he'd taken her children out to sea without telling her or asking her permission. When she'd awakened that fateful morning and found that her father had taken her children, she thought it was into town. When he didn't return for lunch, she got worried. Knowing that she couldn't just go to the townsfolk and ask them if they'd seen her father and her children, she couldn't do anything but wait...and wait...and wait. 

She hadn't heard from him again. 

She paused with drinking, watching the arch of fresh water for a few moments. Then she closed her eyes and let out a trembling sigh. "Why?" she whispered. "Why did you have to do it?" She felt tears rise again and quickly took a few last gulps of water until she felt a dull sense of equilibrium take hold of her again. Then she released the button and straightened, feeling in control of her emotions again, and wiped her mouth with her sleeve. Then she paused. 

Someone had come to stand by her and was now leaning a shoulder against the stone building. Her wet eyes moved up to look at an all too familiar face before her gaze dropped to watch as he let a familiar coin tumble across his knuckles. Her father's coin. Then she looked up at him again and dropped her arm. 

She didn't say anything but side-stepped him to pass. 

"How did you do it?" 

She stopped in her tracks, standing in profile to him. Then she looked at him with a quizzical frown. "Do what?" 

"That neat trick yesterday." 

Her gaze dropped to watch the coin flash in the sun as it rolled across his tanned knuckles. "Neat trick?" 

"Tossing that heavy bag of trash on my boat without being seen?" 

She popped eyebrows. "I have no idea what you're talking about." 

With a light ringing sound, he flipped the coin in the air and her gaze followed its ascent before it dropped back into the palm of his hand. She watched as he slipped the coin in the pocket of his cream linen slacks before she raised her gaze and found him watching her with an earnest look. 

"Okay. So can you tell me why you're so sad?" 

That question took her aback and her long eyelashes flickered before she quickly averted her face. "You're mistaken. I'm not sad—" 

"—A blind man can see you've shed tears." 

She was silent for a few moments. "You're mistaken. I had somethin' in my eye." 

"You'd been crying." 

She swallowed hard before she shook her head. "No. I don't cry, Mr. Masterson," she said before she moved to quickly walk away. 

"How did you know who I was?" 

She paused. Then she raised her head and looked at him with the biggest, most wounded eyes he's ever seen in his life. Those eyes gripped him and he found himself completely captivated by her, even to the point that he could actually feel her sadness inside his own heart. 

"This is a small island, Mr. Masterson. People talk—" 

"—Have we met before?" 

"Yea. At the lighthouse and at Mac's diner." 

"I mean before that...long before that." 

She felt her eyelashes flicker before she shook her head, but she didn't look convincing. "I-I don't think so." 

He walked to her and was surprised that she didn't step away or run off. She merely followed him with those captivating eyes. "I believe we have," he said before his gaze left her eyes and roamed along her hair. Then he reached out a hand to take a swirling raven lock, but he paused when she quickly stepped out of reach, and he lowered his hand. "Ah, yes. I remember. You don't like to be touched." 

Her eyelashes flickered. Then she shook her head. "No. I don't." 

"By anyone? Or just me?" 

She didn't expect that question! She glanced uneasily around, seeing that they were drawing curious looks from people. "I don't know you." Then she set stern eyes on him. "Or is it common where you come from for strangers to willy-nilly touch other strangers whenever they please?" 

"But we're not strangers, Charly." 

"Yea, we are." 

He shook his head. "No, we're not, but I can see you know that." 

She quickly looked up at him, now seeing the look of recognition in his eyes. She slowly shook her head, as if that could wipe his memory—and memory that was quickly returning to him the longer he stared at her. 

"You've got me confused with somebody else," she said, shaking her head. "I have gotta be going—" 

"—You're her." 

She stared up at him with a look of fright but she quickly shook her head. "Like I said, you've got me confused with somebody else—" 

"—No," he said quietly as he shook his head. "I know it was you that night." 

She popped eyebrows. "I have no idea what you're talkin' about—" 

"—Yes, you do. That night, five years ago, on my family's boat," he said. "It was you." 

"Again, I've never met you before the lighthouse and Mac's diner—" 

"—You had longer hair back then. Much longer," he continued, ignoring her denials. "That's what threw me off. But then I caught a glimpse of your profile in the diner the other day just as a ray of sunlight fell across your face—" 

"—You're making me nervous and you really need to stop—" 

"—I'm making you nervous because you know I'm telling the truth," he said, ignoring her as she shook her head. "At that moment, when a ray of sunlight fell across your face, it was then when I knew it was you that night. It all came back to me in one fell swoop. You're unmistakably my mystery lover." 

"You're crazy." 

"You're the one I made love to that night—" 

"—No!" She finally shouted, uncaring of the curious looks cast their way. She narrowed her eyes on him. "How can you possibly remember anything from that night?!" 

"I don't know, but I do." 

"No." She shook her head vigorously. "No. That's not possible." She shook a hand as she shook her head. "You were so drunk that you were teeterin' and swervin' like a buoy in the sea, so how can you remember anything?!" 

He cocked his head and narrowed thoughtful eyes. "How did you know I was drunk?" 

She froze before her jaw dropped, and then she quickly clamped her mouth shut. 

"How did you know, Charly?" 

Irritated that she blabbered, she looked angrily up at him. "How else? You just told me." 

"No. I didn't." 

"Of course you did! How would I otherwise know—?" 

"—Because you were there." 

She stared up into his eyes for a few seconds. She knew he was just guessing, probing, like that dog unwilling to give up his bone. But in those few seconds, her anger ebbed as a growing sense of empathy filled her when she saw the desperation, felt his desperation, and knew that he's tried hide it deep inside him. She knew, then and there, that he was heading down the same path as Gems. 

Her expression softened. "Do yourself a favor, Mr. Masterson. Let it go," she whispered. "Don't throw everything away chasin' a fairytale, because if you don't stop now, you'll rue the day you ever met me." 

"I didn't go out of my way to meet you," he corrected. "You came to me, Charly." 

She swallowed as she gazed up into his eyes. "Regardless what you want to believe," she said with a plea in her eyes, "you have to let it go." 

"I need to see you. Alone." 

"No." She shook her head. "I can't." 

"You can't or won't?" 

"Both," she said without hesitation. 

"Then I can't and won't 'let it go'," he said with a determined gleam in his eyes. 

Seeing it, Charly opened her mouth to try to persuade him again, but she was interrupted. 

"Royce! There you are!" a familiar feminine voice rang out. 

Charly lowered her eyelashes and his jaw tightened just as Sharon came up to them carrying bags of some shopping she'd done. 

"I was wondering where you went off to." Then she looked from Royce to Charly Meeren, and she smiled. "Hello again, Miss Meeren." 

Charly raised her head. "Hello," she returned with a polite smile. "I was just thankin' your friend here—" 

"—My boyfriend." 

Charly looked at the woman, felt her jealousy reach out to her like a claw with sharp talons even though she was smiling. "That's right. Your boyfriend," she corrected. "I was just thankin' him for being so generous." 

"Generous?" Sharon arched an eyebrow as she looked up at him. 

"Yea," Charly said, and drew Sharon's attention back. She smiled. "He bought an old coin that my pa's been tryin' to sell for a long time." 

"Oh." Sharon looked up at the man beside her. "That was nice of you, Royce." 

"Yea, it was," Charly said with a smile. "Well, I guess I'll be...movin' on." She looked at Royce as he raised his eyes to her, not missing the pause. She smiled politely. "I hope you have a pleasant stay on Mount Desert Island." 




Captivated Ch. 04



"Isle of Enchantment," Sharon said. 

Charly frowned with a curious smile, watching as Sharon, in turn, looked up at Royce. 

"An apropos nickname for this place, don't you agree, sweetheart? Isle of Enchantment," she repeated as she looped a possessive arm through his and arched an eyebrow up at him. He didn't respond. Then she looked at the tomboyish girl who Royce was becoming a bit too friendly with. "Isn't that what you people here call this island? Isle of Enchantment?" 

"I just call it by its official name. Mount Desert," Charly said. 

"So what you're saying is, you have no idea that your people here have nicknamed this island the Isle of Enchantment because of your mother...and you? I find that hard to believe." 

Charly's eyebrows shot up. "I have no idea why people would nickname this place on account of my late mother or me," she said with a polite smile. 

Sharon smiled; her blue eyes sharp and her smile not reaching them. "Why, indeed." 

There was something in the blonde's tone that didn't sit well with her. Her gaze dropped and glanced at the bags in the blonde's hand before she smiled and raised her gaze. "The village was founded by fisherman, and I guess the love of telling tall tales is still a favorite past time." 

"Miss Meeren," Royce began, "I'd like to cash in that rain-check for dinner, and hope you'll join us this evening—" 

"—Gems!" Charly suddenly called out, shooting up a hand and cutting him off, and acted as if she hadn't heard him. 

Royce watched just as Gems came walking by hugging his precious cargo to him. He had stopped in his tracks the moment he heard Charly's chipper voice, and then he looked jealously at the tall man she'd been standing with. 

"H-H-Hey, Charly." 

"Come on. I feel generous today. I'll buy you a glass of ale at Ye Olde Brits Pub," she said with a friendly smile, seeing him blink in surprise as she approached him. 

"Y-You sure you wanna—with me, Charly?" 

"Yea, I'm sure," she said as she stopped in front of him. Then her expression changed as she looked at him with an earnest gleam in her eyes. "You and I, Gems...we need to talk." And before he could protest, she took his arm and nearly dragged him into the direction of a nearby pub without a single look back. 

Charly led Gems into the Ye Olde Brits Pub and to a very private booth at the far end of the establishment. After she motioned for him to sit, she took her seat across him, set the large envelope with photos aside, and folded her arms on the table as she smiled at his somewhat uncomfortable and distrustful face. 

"Why you smilin' at me like that, Charly?" he asked with a frown as he tightened his arms around the red bundle against him. 

"Just tryin' to be friendly, is all, Gems." 

He narrowed suspicious eyes on her. "Whaddya really want from me?" 

"Hm." She smiled as her lashes dropped for a moment before they rose to look at him now with a more stark gleam in their crystalline depths. "I should be askin' you that, Gems." 

"You're the one who'd asked to buy me a drink." 

"What I mean is, what is it that you want from me, Gems? Because it seems you're escalatin' your attentions on me and with those mainlanders on the isle, that can cause me all sorts of trouble." Then she returned her hand on her arm. "You know why they're here, don't you?" 

He frowned. "No." 

"They wanna buy the lighthouse," she told him, and watched as he looked indignantly at her. NO islander wanted her to sell the lighthouse. "It's the same people who bought westward lighthouse and nobody's been happy with that ever since all that construction's been goin' on, on the other side of the island. I'm sure you're not, either." 

Gems looked down, shame-faced. "No. I don't want that." He looked apologetically at her. "I don't want that," he repeated, "cuz I knows that if you have to sell, it means you're gonna leave this place, don't it?" 

Trish Bailey, a rotund, middle-aged woman stuffed in an old English serving wench frock and apron came to stand by their table, and Charly smiled as she looked up her. 

"Hi, Trish." 

"Hi, Charly." Then she looked at Gems who kept his head down, and barely hid her disgust. "Gems." Then she smiled as she looked back at Charly. "What'll it be today for you two?" 

"Just water for me and Gems here will have his regular." She smiled. "I'm buyin' today." 

Trish nodded and smiled. "Comin' right up!" And then she left to get their order. 

Charly fished in her pocket and took out a small tin with pop-up lid, and set it on the table. 

"There's sea salt in that, isn't there?" 

"You know it is." 

"Why do you have to drink sea salted water, Charly?" 

"Guess," she answered. 

"I don't need to. I know." 

She arched an eyebrow. "Then why ask?" 

Trish brought their order: a large pitcher of water, a clean glass, and a tall ice-cream spoon. For Gems, she brought a large glass of brown ale. After Charly thanked her, the woman left and Charly popped open the tin and took out some white wafers of dehydrated sea salt and added half of what was in the tin in the glass before she added water and stirred. Gems watched curiously as he took his big twenty four ounce glass of brown ale and drank thirstily. 

"Gems?" she finally said, and he stopped drinking and lowered his glass as she raised her eyes and looked at him while she tapped the spoon on the glass and set it aside. "I need you to do me a favor." 

He was instantly guarded. "What kinda favor?" 

"A big one." 

"How big?" 

"I need you to lie low 'til the mainlanders leave. Can you do that?" 

He frowned. "Whaddya mean by 'lie low'?" 

"Don't go talkin' about Captain Steven's log books and all the stuff you're always talkin' about. Can you do that?" 

"Why should I?" he said with a derisive sniff, nose up. "You know what people've been sayin' and thinkin'. Everybody thinks ol' Gems is real soft up here," he tapped a finger to his temple. "I knows I ain't always been the brightest bulb, but I knows what I'd seen. I knows it, Charly, and you knows it, too. You know I ain't crazy, but people 'round here think I am. Do you know how hard it's been on pa, havin' his son bein' laughed at as the island's idiot?" 

"You're the one who made it hard on yourself, Gems." Charly looked tersely at him. "You had to go tell everyone you'd seen me that evening." She shook her head as he blinked when he heard she wasn't denying it! 

"So it's true. I'd seen what I'd seen—" 

"—Are we good now?" she asked, not confirming or denying. 

"B-But the other people—?" 

"—They know, Gems. They all know. But they're keeping it to themselves." She leaned forward as she looked him deep in the eyes. "And I need your promise that you'll lie low until the mainlanders leave. Steer clear of them. Don't let them approach you. Can you do that?" 

"Yea, yea...I can do that," he said, nodding vigorously. 

She smiled. "Good." Then her gaze dropped as she looked at the deep red package he was holding against him. "I need that back, Gems." 

He was willing to keep his mouth shut until the mainlanders left, but under no circumstances was he willing to part ways with his most treasured find. He shook his head. 

"It's mine." 

"No," she said as she looked at him. "It isn't yours." 

"I found it fair and square!" 

"It doesn't matter. It still doesn't belong to you. Now do what's right and give it to me," she said as she stretched out the palm of her hand across the table. 

"No! No!" he said, clutching the wrapped stone against his chest. "It's mine and you can't make me give it to you. You can't." He shook his head vigorously. "No. You can't have it and you can't take it from me. I knows that. I knows that!" 

She remained staring at his stubborn face for a few seconds more, and saw that he wasn't going to give up the stone. Then her fingers slowly curled into a loose fist before she retracted her hand and slowly sat up. 

Without taking her eyes off him, she picked up her glass and drank until it was empty before she put it back on the table and ran her sleeve slowly across her damp lips. Then she lowered her hand to her lap and slowly took in a deep breath; her eyes slowly closing. 

Gems watched with a frown in confusion and curiosity, but that was short-lived. 

Suddenly, her mouth dropped open and her body jerked as if she were about to vomit, but nothing came out, not even a sound. But Gems heard something all right! 

His hands flew to his ears and he covered them as he winced as if in pain, and the few people in the pub did the same. He dropped the wrapped up stone, but before it could drop into his lap or on the floor, a quick palm was there to catch it, and when he belatedly remembered he was holding the stone, he quickly dropped his hands to catch it himself. Then he saw that Charly was back in her seat, holding the wrapped stone in the palm of her hand while she looked from across the table. 

He swallowed big, not knowing what to do now. There was a look of fright on his face as he stared at her earnest but calm face as she looked back at him from behind the wrapped stone that she was still holding out across the table. Then, to his shock and surprise, she slowly placed the wrapped stone in front of him on the table and rose to her feet as his round eyes followed her. 

She calmly took her envelope from the table and said, "You shouldn't believe everything you read in old moldy log books, Gems. If I wanted to, I can take it anytime I please." 

"S-So why didn't you?" 

She slowly frowned as she looked at him as if he asked a ridiculous question. "Because I want you to give it to me out of your own and because you want to give it to me. That's why." And with that, she turned and left the pub.



Captivated Ch. 05



Strange Encounters 

Charly closed the heavy wooden door behind her and stood in total darkness. She stood at the top of steps that had been cut into the hard rock, and what led to a secret place beneath the lighthouse. It was this place, the existence of it, and the history of why it came to be that would never allow for the sale of Lighthouse #1. The world could never know that mermaids, indeed, existed. 

The sound of dripping water and the smell of the sea flooded the darkness all around her. She closed her eyes and drew in a long, deep breath. She felt home. When she opened her eyes, her pupils had changed. Her transformation had begun. 

Her eyes had dilated in order to adjust to the black darkness of the underground grotto. She could now catch the faintest bit of light which was all she needed in order to see. Her vision adjusted until she slowly saw shadows and then more; everything appearing in various shades of blue. She could clearly see the stone-carved steps that led down onto a giant concrete platform with in its center an opening of water. It was a sizable underground pond that was connected to the ocean. It was freezing cold down there, but it didn't seem to bother her. 

On dainty bare feet, she took the damp and slippery steps down until she stepped onto the hard rock floor. There she quietly unbuttoned her jeans, pulled these down along with her undies, and she callously tossed these aside. 

She took the hem of her oversized blue and black flannel shirt and pulled it over her head, ignoring the buttons, dropping this clothing item, too, on the growing heap of clothes by her feet. She wore no bra. Her breasts were free and large, plump, and proud, but they were firm enough to not require her to wear something to support them. Her nipples were small and dark pink. Her body was slender but firm, standing tall and proudly. She was taller than most women, but she was one hundred percent sexy woman. For now. 

When she finished stripping down, she lowered her naked body onto a small and narrow piece of rock that was used as a sort of pier. The top had been sanded down for an easier seat. Once she was sitting on her usual spot, she pulled her long legs forward and stretched them out in front of her before she brought her feet together and leaned back on her hands. 

Then she closed her eyes and her lips moved...and she began to sing a sad melody. 

From the depths of the black pond water, tiny sparkles of yellow, blue, red, and green lights rose. They began with just enough light to be seen, but as they came closer to the surface, they lit the grotto in a spectacular array of colors. 

Light bounced off the dripping walls of rock and the thick creosote-treated wood pilings that gave the walls and ceiling support. Those thousands of tiny lights all moved as if they were living breathing things, soon sweeping around her legs; beginning at her slender toes and circling upward around her feet, her ankles, her legs; rising higher around her thighs but stopping at an invisible barrier around her hips. As the lights climbed around her lower extremities, another supernatural phenomenon happened. Her bob began to miraculously grow! Her thick raven curls spiraled as they grew longer until the tips touched the wet rock beneath the palms of her hands. 

Her eyes opened and revealed large dilated pupils as black as her hair with only the thinnest circle of turquoise. She blinked when the lights swirling lights from her toes up to her hips exploded brightly...and then vanished. 

She lowered her long eyelashes and looked down the length of her legs, but she no longer had legs. In their place was the shimmering streamlined soft-scale skin of a large fish, ending in a rather large point where her toes had been. The outline of her human legs beneath the layer of scaly skin slowly vanished when her mermaid's skin pressed down and smoothed out. 

Her thick long curls slipped down as she bent forward before she stretched out her arms and allowed her fingertips to dip into the water. She briefly spread her fingers, showing the thin but strong membrane connecting her long fingers, and what helped her propel through water. 

She cupped water into her hands and began gently splashing it over her seemingly lifeless lower aquatic part, and she continued to hum that strange but melancholy tune as she worked. 

Then another miraculous thing happened. 

As she continued to hum and splash the briny cold water over her lower part, the tip began to swell and then move. Soon, lines could be seen before her shimmering mermaid skin began to break around where her ankles should be, and two dark ocher-colored points on either side unfolded and separated from the rest before they grew and unrolled into a large pointy tail fin before it ended with soft slaps in the water. 

Then the magnificent brown-yellow tail fin moved as she cocked her head and watched how it scooped up water and let it spill freely back into the pond. The entire tail fin moved languidly, to and fro, while its brown-yellow coloring began to change, growing darker until the shimmering rainbow hues from the rest of her tail bled down into the veins of her tail fins until there was no difference in color between it and the rest of her mermaid body. 

Her transformation, not as a sea siren but as the legendary mermaid, was now complete. 

She rocked herself once and she rolled off the rock before she dived head first into the black, icy cold water. The last part of her that was seen were her large beautiful tail fins that seemed to slice the water as it silently slipped into and vanished within the black water's depths. 

Once in the water, she used both her powerful tail as well as her webbed hands to propel at neck-breaking speed through the icy sea. She didn't have gills like fish or like her mother, but she could hold her breath for up to two hours at a time. She, not the sperm whale, was the superior mammal on Earth that could hold her breath the longest and dive to the deepest depths of the vast oceans. The myoglobin protein bound oxygen in her blood, and as long as she remained in cold waters, she wouldn't need to frequently surface for gulps of fresh oxygen. 

Underwater, she sped off into the deep; she barely used her powerful tail unless she lost momentum. Her powerful arms and webbed hands were more than enough. And as she sped down deep into the blackness of the sea, to places where a human couldn't see their own hand in front of their eyes, she twirled and spun and seemed to play along the swaying sea weed and reefs teeming with life. 

The fish that found their way to her, swam close to her. Although they were well aware that they risked becoming her next meal if she was hungry, they were also guaranteed protection by the ocean's most powerful and intelligent creature that could win a fight with any shark and any other predatory creature infesting within and above the vast waters—even man. 

She usually chased and played with these harmless fish, but she wasn't in a playful mood at that moment. She was on a mission, and as she torpedoed through the water, swimming further and further away from the lighthouse, she seemed to know where to go. 

There was plenty of sunken treasure still undiscovered in those waters, and she was out to find something to entice Gems to hand over the Mermaid's Pearl. She believed that that Pearl belonged to her mother, and that, maybe, should she have the Pearl in her possession, and if her mother was still alive out there somewhere, she could use it to call her back. 

She swam around the deep sea coral reefs of Nova Scotia, looking for something of value and interest to Gems. She ignored the threatening stances by the lobsters and other sea creatures that skedaddled out of her way as she scoured the corals. Strangely enough, she could smell through her mermaid part and she soon picked up a strange scent that wasn't part of the sea. 

She pushed from the rough corals and with a single hard swipe of her tail, shot to the furthest side of the reef before she swam down to the lowest part of it. She paused with upper body upright and frowned for a moment or two as her long hair floated weightlessly around her face and head. Then she snapped around and in an elegant swerve, turned a corner and swam around the foot of the reef until she came to the spot where she picked up that strange scent. 

She picked up the scent buried between the corals that had grown over it in the two hundred plus years it had been lost at the bottom of the sea. She grabbed a handful of solid coral and broke it apart as easily as if she were tearing into rice paper! After breaking away the sharp, jagged coral skeleton, she found a small creosote-treated miniature treasure chest. 

She took the box and examined it for a few moments. Then she brought her long tail down and with a powerful swipe, she sped up to the surface as a large school of fish darted out of her way. She broke water and shook the excess from her head before she had a quick look around. Since it was evening, there was very little seafaring traffic, and satisfied she wouldn't be seen, she lifted the miniature treasure chest box out of the water and with a flick of her thumb, broke the rusty iron padlock, letting it drop into the water and sink back into a watery grave. 

She opened it and found some valuable baubles. There was even a pearl necklace with a cameo locket! 

"Pearls for a single pearl," she whispered before she closed the top, took a deep breath, and sank silently back under water. Once she sank at least ten feet beneath the surface, she curled head first downward, and then she dived back into the deep. In seconds flat, she torpedoed away, making her way back to the lighthouse with the box safely tucked against her streamlined body. 

In less than fifteen minutes due to her incredible underwater speed, she reached the hidden mouth of the underground cavern, obscured by sea plants, that led to the secret pond under her lighthouse. She swam through the black water, seeing the path ahead of her as clear as day. Once reaching the large pond's bottom, she looked up and used her tail to propel herself to the surface. 

When she broke water, she let out her breath and glided at her leisure, through the water and to the stone pier. She set the waterlogged miniature treasure chest on it before she set webbed hands on the top of the stone pier and hauled her heavy body out. 

"Oof!" she gushed. "That darn tail is damn heavy on land." She had to make an effort to haul her body out of the water. At that moment, gravity was not her friend! 

She finally made it and seated herself before she took the box and opened it again. She smiled when she saw the small collection of old treasure that she was certain would entice Gems for a trade. She smiled as she lifted the pearl necklace and held it up to admire it. It was then when she heard a familiar sound far, far away. She frowned as she lowered her hands and perked her ears. There it was again! She recognized the sound as being her doorbell. 

Frowning, she put the pearl necklace back into the box and closed it. Then she swept her heavy aquatic part completely out of the water as she swept her hands back over her dripping drenched hair. As she did this, the sharp tips of her tail fins rolled back to the center and into a thick point, and the reverse of what had happened before was set in motion as she returned to her human form. 

With the box in one hand, she got to her feet, briefly wincing at the sting of the soles of her feet. This was painful enough to make her wince and limp, but it was a temporary side effect after returning to human form. As if walking on coals, she ignored the pile of her clothes and went straight to a wall where a makeshift wardrobe was built. A few black robes were hung there and since she didn't have much time to dress, she took one robe off its peg and began pulling it on as she made her way up the stone-carved steps, hearing that whoever it was at her door, he or she was annoyingly persistent. 

"Ouch! Ouch! Ouch!" she said as she gingerly took the stone steps up to the secret door. 

She entered the living quarters of the lighthouse, and closed the secret door behind her. It was so well crafted that it seemed to melt into the wall. She grabbed a towel on her way down the hall and briskly toweled her hair as she walked into the sitting room furnished with rugged Mission-style furniture, and headed straight for the rise in front of the door. 

She peeked through the spyhole and then her head pulled back as she blinked big eyes. She didn't expect him at her door! She bit her lip, contemplating whether or not to pretend she wasn't home, but the persistent ringing told her that he knew she was in, so that wasn't going to work. Besides, it was also cowardly, and she may be a lot of things but she was no coward. 

She finally unlocked the four deadbolts and the security chain-lock before she took the brass doorknob and opened the door. Her nostrils suddenly flared when she caught a scent that made her suddenly feel strange in her stomach. 

She gave her most unfriendly look as she arched an eyebrow. "Yea?" she said with an aloof look and flat tone. 

Royce Masterson filled the opening of the door. His height and broad shoulders almost filled the opening completely with black leather and white wool. When he noticed her hostile disposition, he arched a black eyebrow, but it was the sexy look she offered with the black robe loose around her shoulder and the folds gaping enough that he could see the swell of her surprisingly large and smooth breasts almost to her nipples. In a brief flash of sexual interest, he wondered how her nipples looked... 

And then he realized she was sizing him up, too! This stirred something inside him and it excited him. He needed to say something fast. 

He cleared his throat. "Do you always greet men at the door dressed like that?" 

She raised big mesmerizing eyes but her disposition had changed, and she no longer appeared hostile or unfriendly. Now she appeared to be a little rattled and a little confused. She frowned as she shook her head as if shaking the cobwebs from her brain. 

"What? I mean," she shook her head as she stammered, "d-dressed like what?" 

"Wearing only a robe," he said as he stared at her pretty eyes, "and nothing else." 

She looked down at the level of her chest and saw where his gaze had fallen. From that vantage point, she could see her pink nipples and the fairly large areolas surrounding the delicate nodes. She lifted slender fingers of both hands and touched the loose folds of the robe, but she made no attempt to pull them over her almost indecently exposed breasts. In fact, much to his surprise, she slowly pulled the loose folds away, baring her breasts in all their beauty. 

Then she raised her eyes almost as if she was drunk. "Don't you think they're beautiful? Are they strange to you? Do they look like breasts you've seen on other women?" She shook her head and frowned; she was beginning to blink much slower and she felt as if a haze was filling her brain that she couldn't clear—but it was a haze that was beginning to take control of her actions and her jaw went rigid as she tried to fight it. 

Of course, her extremely strange behavior took him aback as he looked at her beautiful pale breasts and pink nipples. "They're the most beautiful breasts I've ever seen and not anything like any on other women I've known." 

She frowned as she looked up at him. 

"They're as magnificent now as when I made love to them...five years ago." Then he reached out and, paying no heed to her warning never to touch her, he quietly took her hands from the folds of her robe with the intention of pulling them over her naked breasts. "It's very cold out—" 

"—And your hands, they're warm. So deliciously warm," she quickly whispered and much to his surprise she took his hands in surprisingly strong hands and pressed them against her naked breasts before she tilted her head back and closed her eyes as if she were in ecstasy. "They're warm and strong...and they feel so good on me...against my skin..." 

Shocked by her act, he tried to pull his hands away from her, but when he tugged she followed, and he suddenly found her body pressed against his before her hand slipped up around his neck and she—kissed him! 

Stunned, he remained motionless when her lips captured his in a longing kiss. But as the initial shock faded, common sense returned. He took her by her arms and pushed her back, holding her at a distance. He watched as her head lolled and her eyes flicker open. Then she frowned as she looked up at his stark and stern face. 

"What are you doing, Charly?" 

She blinked as if she were coming awake from a trance, and the more awake she became, the more shocked she looked until her eyes were round as saucers! With a sudden gasp, she stared up at him in total shock before her cheeks went bright red in horrified embarrassment. 

"You shouldn't have come here," she got out in a trembling whisper. 

"Charly," he said with a confused look, "what's going on with you—" 

"—Don't ever come around here again! Stay away from me!" she suddenly shouted as she shook his hands off her arms and quickly stepped back into the lighthouse. 

"Charly..." But that was as far as he got before the heavy door was slammed shut in his face! He was enough by his senses to step to the door and immediately begin knocking. "Open up, Charly! You can't just do what you did and then leave it at this! We need to talk! Open up!" he kept shouting at the door while going from knocking to ramming his fist against it. 

But she didn't open up. 

Inside, she had dropped back against the wall with trembling fingers against her tingling lips. She was shocked by her reaction to Royce Masterson, and then she moaned as she dropped her hand with a face of utter despair. She had no answers to the panicked questions exploding in her brain. If only her mother was there. She'd know what was happening to her. 

She slowly became aware that Royce Masterson was still on the other side of the door, and that he was still ramming an angry fist on it for her to open. But she couldn't face him now. She couldn't face him ever again. She was so deeply embarrassed by her wanton behavior that was bound to be confusing to him, that she wouldn't be able to open the door even if she wanted to—and she didn't want to. 

"He must never know," she whispered as she shook her head. Then she frowned when she felt a tickling sensation over her breasts, and she looked down her body before she gasped in shock. Her hair hadn't shrunk back to her bob! "Oh my god! Oh my god!" she whispered frantically, realizing that he'd seen it! 

How was she ever going to explain that to him?? 

"A wig," she said, answering her own question. Then she frowned. "Really? A wet wig?" She shook her head. Then her eyes lit up. "A weave," she said with more hope. "Yes, I can say it was a weave I wanted to try out." Then she sighed. "But then again, I don't have to say a thing just as long as I steer clear of the Mastersons until they leave." 

She nodded her approval of that resolve and pushed from the wall. Then she fled through the living area of her lighthouse home before she went to the secret door and pushed against it. It clicked ajar and she snatched it open before she quickly entered the dark and closed the door behind her as the angry thumping against her front door continued. 

Charly sped down the slippery stone steps and quickly took her seat on the stone pier. She began her ritual of transformation and was frustrated it took longer than it should since she couldn't find the inspiration in her confused heart to sing her mermaid's song. It was that song, and nothing else, that was key to her transformation. 




Captivated Ch. 05



"Come on, Charly..." she whispered, "you can do better that that." She took deep breaths and focused on calming her heart. But once she calmed herself enough to at least remember the tune, she began humming and the transformation commenced. When it was complete, she dived into the water and disappeared into its blackness. 

* * * * 

Royce was angry and confused. He kept ramming his fist against the door until it hurt, but despite that pain and the fact he was banging his knuckles until they were raw, he couldn't stop. It was as if he were obsessed! 

"Open up, Charly! Open up!" 

"Royce?" 

He paused when he heard his brother call him and he stopped his knocking before he snapped his head around and looked over his shoulder to see Ryan standing behind him looking confused and worried. 

"What are you doing, big guy?" 

Royce frowned and looked a little dazed. 

"What?" 

"What are you doing banging on Charly's door?" Ryan asked. Then he frowned as he eyed his brother's somewhat confused expression. "Are you all right?" 

Realizing he must look like a stark raving mad idiot, he dropped his fist and turned as he looked at his younger brother. His handsome face was set to despair but at least he looked sane again. He ran his hand back through his raven hair and shook his head, barely feeling the sting of his hand. 

"I don't know, Ry. I don't..." He paused as he closed his eyes and took a deep breath. Then he opened them and looked at his brother's concerned face. "It's her, Ry." 

Ryan looked a degree more confused. "It's her...what? I don't understand what you're telling me." 

Royce stepped off the small porch and walked over to his brother, looking earnestly into his brother's confused eyes. "The virgin." 

Ryan's eyebrows shot up. "Um, Royce? Charly's a mommy. She's no virgin—" 

"—I'm talking about the virgin from that night, five years ago. The night your sea stone was stolen." 

Ryan's angular jaw dropped as he stared at his older brother in shock. "You're kidding me." 

"No." Royce shook his head. "It's her," he said as he stalked past his brother and headed away from the lighthouse. 

Ryan turned and rushed to fall in step with his brother. "Do you think she's the one who took the sea stone?" 

Royce stopped and snapped around to look upset at his younger brother. "Didn't you hear what I just said?" 

"Yes, of course I did," Ryan said with a curious frown. It was clear that his brother didn't want to talk about sea stones. He wanted to talk about Charly. "So you believe Charly Meeren's the virgin you slept with that night. If that's true, you should look a helluva lot more jubilant than you do now, shouldn't you? At least now you know you didn't seduce a—" 

"—How old is Charly's oldest child?" 

Ryan frowned and shook his head. "I don't know. People on the island aren't talking, Royce, and I can't get them to say anything about Charly's children other than—ohhh...wait a minute!" he exclaimed in dawning. "Are you saying what I think you're saying?" 

"I need answers, Ryan. I need to know if that night with her produced a child." He then turned and marched away. 

"IF she's the one who was with you that night—" 

"—I know she is," Royce said with unwavering confidence. 

"How can you be so sure?" 

"Because she kissed me." 

Ryan stopped in his tracks and threw out his arms. "You're basing all of this on one kiss?!" He shook his head when his brother didn't stop but took the steps up to high ground where he parked his rental Humvee. "I can't believe he's basing his entire theory on a kiss," he added beneath his breath before he threw himself into a sprint and caught up with his brother. 

* * * * 

Charly swam at high speed, and as she felt the soothing sea water flush along her skin and face, she felt all tension, stress, and worries wash away. She was swimming just to get away, to clear her head...and then she felt her lungs aching for fresh air as she became aware that the sea water had become noticeably warmer—and she knew she'd been swimming for at least two hours! 

How time flies when you're panicked. 

Her aching lungs and the warmer water around her told her that she'd long ago left the colder Atlantic waters around Mount Desert Island, and now found herself in a more tropical environment. This could only mean that she'd arrived at her special cavern; one she discovered by accident long ago on one of her many excursions. She paused as she looked around the clear water for any danger, and when she was assured there weren't any she sped up to the surface for that fresh haul of oxygen. 

She broke water and exhaled loudly before she spat the sea water from her lips. Her dilated mermaid's eyes scanned the dark shoreline clearly visible to her under the moonlight. She discovered she'd been on auto-pilot since leaving Mount Desert Island because she recognized her destination. 

She'd arrived to the waters of Bermuda. The tall cliffs in the distance were familiar to her. 

After taking a deep breath, she dunked her drenched head beneath the surface of the water, dived downward and made her tail fins briefly breach the surface of the water before it slid silently under. 

She swam toward the island, but was temporarily knocked off course when suddenly something big and longer than she was came rushing out from the black depths of the sea. Only her quick thinking, instincts, and maneuvering skills saved her from what could have been a dangerous collision with what appeared to be a giant fish on the attack! 

Shark? 

She swerved in blinding speed but to her surprise, her attacker was just as skilled at maneuvering as she was, and no matter how hard or fast she swam, it was closing in on her! She had long ago promised herself that she'd never harm another creature if she didn't intend to eat it. She's won many deadly fights with the top predators of the sea in the past, killing more than her fair share, but as a guardian of the fauna of her underwater home, she promised herself she'd never kill again unless she intended to eat it or to defend herself. 

She was also aware that she only had two choices in this dazzling chase: flight or fight. She chose flight. 

Pushing herself to top speed, she torpedoed through the warmer waters, feeling her lungs already aching since she was expending more energy than usual. But no matter how fast she flew through the water, the big blue fish was literally on her tail. She had no other choice than to make a sharp turn and to try to get behind the large school of fish that were trying to hide behind her. 

Her trick was pretty successful up until she discovered that the larger blue fish chasing her had no problem following her! It was as agile as she was, so she knew the time for flight was over and the time to fight had begun. 

Swimming in fast circles to slow her speed, she snapped around in the water to defend herself. But just as she geared herself up to do just that, her mouth opened in a silent scream when the creature was already upon her, quickly wrapping what felt like a thick tentacle around her body again, trying to incapacitate her movements. 

It suddenly grabbed her long hair and then her arm. She struggled with all her might as its tentacle wrapped tighter and tighter around her. Suddenly she felt arms and hands reach out to her and wrap and grasp her—arms and hands? Squids didn't have arms and hands! 

Caught in what felt like an unbreakable embrace, she felt her lungs begin to ache. She knew she needed to surface posthaste or she'd drown. Survival instincts kicked in as her tail slapped around and her own arms and clawed fingers came to life, scratching and shoving against a hard chest that felt like bone plates, all the while feeling that thick tentacle tightening around her viciously thrashing tail. 

She had one weapon left to defend herself. She used what little breath she had left in her lungs, pulled her head back as she gathered what strength she had left, and then shot her head forward as she shrieked at her attacker who was still hidden by her own floating hair. 

The result was instantaneous! 

The school of fish scattered, the water whirled around her by the force of her voice, and she was immediately released! She decided not to stick around to see what her attacker was—maybe a giant squid with tentacles that felt like arms and...hands...and she snapped around and shot away, speeding through the warmer water as fast as she could, heading for the underwater entrance of her secret grotto. 

Now closer to the surface where the moonlight was brighter, and now with her hair no longer obscuring her view, she shot up enraged eyes and bared teeth before she suddenly stiffened to find, not the giant deadly beak of the feared Architeuthis squid reaching for her, but a pale but handsome face and a pair of pale blue eyes surrounded by floating long black hair some ten inches long. 

Stunned, she stared up into this man's striking face above hers, not yet fully comprehending what he was. All the while, as she seemed frozen in shock, he was busy! His strong fingers laced in her floating hair as his thicker, stronger tail acted like an anaconda snaking tighter around her tail as both mer-creatures hung suspended in the water. 

What was he doing? What was he planning?? Was he going to kill her? Was she PREY?! 

That thought suddenly terrified her and that, in turn, gave her renewed strength. Without thinking, she grabbed his head and her webbed fingers dug hard into his gills located right behind his ears. It had the effect she was after when he suddenly roared in pain and shot back from her, releasing his hold on her, and it displayed his powerful and smooth chest and surprisingly ripped body. 

She wasted no time. With a single hard swipe of her oversized tail, she propelled out of his reach and up to the surface. Unfortunately for her, he regained himself much too quickly and gave chase only this time she didn't stop at the surface for oxygen but breached the surface in a spectacular spray of water, flying in a high arch over the rippling sea surface before diving back down into the water at least twenty yards from where exited it. 

Those twenty yards didn't give her much advantage when she felt his hand grab for the narrowest part of her tail, and she threw herself into a spin before he could get a good grasp. Then she shot through the water, vigorously slapping her tail fins, and brought herself to her fastest speed yet. 

Panic gave her that extra speed, but it was an uncontrollable speed. She suddenly felt sharp things scratch her elbows and fins and she knew she was entering shallower water but she'd reached her fastest speed to date and, unfortunately, couldn't stop. She suddenly cried out when in the next second she broke the surface and in a huge spray of water, launched into the cold air at blinding speed, pretty much out of control. 

She screamed as her arms and tail flapped uselessly in the air before she came crashing down on the rocks with sickening bone shattering force. Her screaming immediately stopped when she hit the hard and unforgiving rocks at the far side of a small patch of beach, and her journey finally ended on the sands of the small beach where she rolled for a while until she laid completely still and in full mermaid's form. 

Wading in the frothy water just a few yards from where she lay, the handsome merman blinked long black eyelashes over dilated blue eyes full of confusion and curiosity. He watched the pretty mermaid on the beach, but she didn't make a sound. He cocked his head this way and that to pick up the faintest sound when he finally heard a strange noise coming from her. It wasn't one of those ear-piercing shrieks only females of his kind possessed, but above the slapping water, he could hear a soft moan. 

To be continued 

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Captivated Ch. 06



Chapter 6: Gossip and Gains 

Inside the cavern, the foamy surf splashed high over the rock, sending a spectacular spray of water into the air and over the two men bringing their narrow motorboat to dock. Dressed in a thick parka against the surprising chill on that part of the island, Royce squinted his eyes against the fine briny shower. 

The islander, on the other hand, didn't even flinch. 

"You come here a lot, don't you?" Royce noted, his deep voice bouncing in soft echoes off the weathered rock and ceiling of the cave. 

"Huh?" Gems briefly looked up as he jumped out of the boat, landing in a splash in the shallow sea water that covered eighty percent of the cave's floor. "Oh. Yea." Then he frowned. "How'd you know?" 

Royce gave the scruffy man a smooth smile. "Lucky guess." 

Gems frowned, but then he shrugged as they both took the boat and hauled it onto the sandy ground. 

Although he was born and raised in Manhattan, New York, and pretty much a city boy, he's always been an outdoorsy type of man. He enjoyed outdoor sports including scuba diving and caving, so he could appreciate the majestic beauty of this weathered sea cavern very much although it chilled him to the bone. 

He was in awe as he stood inside the cavern, looking around and up at the rugged rock walls carved out by millions of years of natural weathering. The place looked as if no one had been there in, well, forever, but Germaine "Gems" Jones' familiarity with the place told him that he came there quite a bit. 

After mooring the boat, he followed a less cautious Gems all the way through and to the other side of the cavern that opened to a more hostile side of the shore. The place definitely beheld something magical, something surreal. It wasn't hard for him to imagine unseen mystical creatures passing through here...mythical creatures such as the legendary mermaid. 

"That there's the spot," Gems said above the loud surf rushing against the rocks beyond the mouth of the cavern, pointing to a black rock about twenty yards from where they stood. "She was sittin' there, beautiful mermaid's tail swaying while combing her hair with her hands." 

Royce came to stand by the younger man and squinted his eyes before he took the binoculars hanging around his neck and peered through them as Gems pointed to the rock where he claimed he'd seen Charly over a decade ago, in her mermaid form. 

"Are you sure that's that one?" 

"Yep. As sure as I am that you're standin' here with me," Gems said, nodding with big eyes. 

"That looks like a really dangerous spot." Royce shook his head as he lowered the binoculars. "I don't see how a rowboat can make it to that rock without being swept by the hard surf and ultimately crashing against those rocks around it." He looked doubtfully at Gems. "You wouldn't be telling me tall tales, now, would you, Mr. Jones?" 

"No, honest!" Gems shook his head with big eyes in his scruffy face. "I knows what I'd seen. She was sittin' right there on top of that there big rock, combin' out her long black hair, calm as can be. I swears it." 

Royce finally nodded. It was still early, and there'd be more than enough time to pose questions in order to find out if Germaine Jones was more fact or more fiction. Either way, the time with Mr. Jones would surely educate him about Charly since he appears to be the only one willing to talk about her—his obsession with her aside. From what he heard so far, Charly Meeren filled Jones' every waking hour—and add to that, he didn't recall her exactly denying that Gems had "seen her in her real form".  

"I still can't get it over how she got up on that there rock." Gems shook his head. "I guess she just swam out there cuz she didn't have no legs. She was in her real form with only a rainbow colored fish part where her legs were supposed to be." 

Royce knew that Gems called Charly's mermaid form her "real form", but that—and the possibility that she was a mythical sea siren to begin with—were debatable. On the other hand, he couldn't help but notice that, a couple of days ago at the lighthouse and although her hair was drenched, it was a hell of a lot longer. A weave? He frowned. Charly didn't strike him as a woman who'd have a weave done. 

"That fish part was much longer than her human legs," Gems continued, oblivious to the mainlander's thoughts, but drawing his attention back to him. "It were nearly twice the size of her top part. She had these big, huuuge," Gems opened arms wide, "pointy flaps of fins at the end and she was a-fannin' and a-swayin' that big rainbow fish tail as calm as could be. She wasn't the least bit scared sittin' out there on that rock in the middle of dangerous surf." He shrugged. "I guess, bein' what she is, she ain't got nuthin' to worry about, least of all drownin'." 

"I don't understand," Royce said with a thoughtful frown as he directed his attention back on the giant rock where Gems swore he'd seen Charly as a mermaid. "What was she doing out there in the bright sunlight, where she could be seen by anyone?"  

Gems shrugged. "Maybe she thought this whole area is so abandoned and so far away from where the islanders dare to go that she was safe." Then he looked over his shoulder and Royce frowned before he followed the younger man's gaze and Gems pointed to a spot in the watery cavern. "My pa and I, we'd come up through there. It was hard boatin', but we had no choice since the tide washed us into the cave. We thought we wouldn't make it outta here in one piece when that happened, but the cave made the waters calm." 

"Your father?" Royce asked. 

"Yea." 

"Did he see Charly in her mermaid form, too?" 

"Yea," Gems nodded as he looked down and away. "But he swears, even to this very day, that he didn't see nuthin'." Then he looked up at the tall handsome mainlander. "But I knows he'd seen her, too. I knows it." 

"Why are you so sure?" 

"Cuz he stood right where you're standin' now, and he had his jaw dropped wide open like this," and he dropped his jaw wide for a brief moment. "He was starin' at her just before she spied us and dropped back into the sea." 

"Does your father back up your story?" 

"Nah." Gems frowned as if in pain as he dropped his gaze. Then he shook his head before he raised it and looked at the mainlander with big eyes. "But everybody knows, Mr. Masterson. Everybody on the island knows she's a sea siren." He nodded vigorously. "I ain't supposed to tell no one cuz it's the island's secret and you gave me your promise. It still holds true, don't it?" 

"Yes," Royce said with a nod. 

"Okay." Gems nodded. "Okay. Anyways, the other islanders think Charly's some kind of lucky charm that keeps the island safe and our fishermen nets full. She's a very important islander. It's cuz she's got magical powers." 

Royce arched an eyebrow as he looked into the man's searching blue eyes. "Magical powers?" 

"Yea. All sea sirens have 'em." 

Royce smiled with a doubtful frown. He recalled that Charly had warned him that Gems embellishes his tales and he felt that the man was doing that now. Oh, he believed Gems saw what he claims to have seen, but he doubted Charly had magical powers, too. 

"You know, Germaine," Royce said, "talk like that makes people think you're one can short of a six pack." 

"Yea, I knows they're always talkin' about me behind my back." He looked disgruntled. "And they're always sayin' that I'm crazy cuz I'd seen Charly in her real form, but I knows they're just jealous on account they'd never seen her or her ma—" 

"—Her ma?" 

"Yea," Gems said with a nod. "But I'd never seen her ma in her real form, either. I'd only seen Charly in that way." 

"Are you saying that her mother was a...mermaid, too?" 

"I ain't got no proof, but I knows she's gotta be since Charly's one and her pa ain't no mermaid." 

"Merman." 

"Huh?" 

Royce smiled indulgently. "Male mermaids are called mermen." 

"Oh. Yea." Gems nodded in understanding. "And her pa ain't one. Born and bred right here on the Isle of Enchantment. Only child. Parents died a few years back. Anyways," he continued, "everybody knows Charly's a mermaid. They all know, Mr. Masterson, even if they never say it out loud for fear of losing their lives." 

Royce arched an eyebrow. 

"It's true. I read it in Cap'n Steven's log that there was once a village in Scotland where the residents had told strangers about the singing mermaid. Then everybody started to die and all the people in the whole village were dead in less than a week!" 

Okay. So here's where Gems is embellishing. But he didn't stop the man from indulging since he was learning a great deal more information than he bargained for. Charly's mother could be a mermaid, too? That was something he never thought about, but it stood to reason. 

Then Gems leaned his head closer, as if he was afraid that someone might overhear them. "They'd never say it out loud to no mainlander such as yourself and your friends, but all the islanders know Charly is the daughter of a pure mermaid. Charly herself is only half—" 

"—Because her father is human." 

"Yea. But the islanders don't know if she's as dangerous as her Ma. It's why nobody ever sits next to her, like at Mac's diner. I'm sure you'd noticed?" When the mainlander gave him a single nod of confirmation he continued, "They're afraid that if they come too close, she'll do something that'll make 'em die." 

Royce arched a curious eyebrow. 

"Yea," Gems said. "Don't you think it's unusual that she never wears clothes that show any part of her body?" 

Royce couldn't very well tell Gems the intimate details he shared that night with Charly. But he knew her very, very well and that there was nothing wrong with her anatomy. So he merely nodded and listened and allowed the younger man to embellish in order to make his tale more interesting. 

"Anyways," Gems continued undeterred, "it's cuz of her skin." 

"Her skin?" 

"Yea." He nodded. "It's deadly to us humans. It ain't like your skin or mine. Even in her human camouflage, her skin is covered in razor-sharp scales that, if she wanted, could jab into people unnoticed and infect them with scurvy. Yep. And they can die in less than forty eight hours," he finished, nodding, as he drew his head back. 

Royce took that tale for what it was—an exaggeration. IF Charly Meeren were a mermaid—and he wasn't one hundred percent sure, although he was intrigued—she didn't have "razor-sharp skin scales' like a shark nor did she exhibit any of those dangerous or deadly characteristics that Gems was talking about. In fact, since he was ninety nine point nine percent certain that Charly was the girl he made mad passionate love to that night, five years ago, he was pretty confident that that was just another one of Gems' embellishments. 

"But I don't know about those twins of hers." 

Royce caught the last part of Gems' remark and he quickly looked at him. "Twins?" 

"Yea." Gems nodded before he frowned as he looked up into the mainlander's confused eyes. "You don't know she has kids?" 

"I heard she had children but I've never seen them and I didn't know they were twins." 

"Yea. Ava and Arthur. She never told you about them?" 

"How old are they?" Royce asked, very interested now. 

Gems shrugged. "I think they're about three. Maybe four. Haven't seen them ever since her Pa took off on his boat with them. I think he was takin' them back to the sea to give 'em back, you know?" 

"Give them back?" Royce felt something cold grip his heart. "To the sea?" 

"Nah. To the Merfolk. It's cuz they're like their mama—they're merfolk, too." 

"Do you know who the father is?" Royce asked. 

Gems pursed lips and he frowned in thought. Then he shook his head. "Nah. I don't think anybody knows. They were just there one day to the next. No one ever knew she was pregnant with 'em, you know?" Then he smiled in warm thought. "They were these little-bitty babies with hair as black as their mama's. She used to cart them all around town in a double baby carriage. She doted on those little'ns. Loved them. But her pa took 'em out to sea one day and he's never come back." 

"When did he take them?" 

"I dunno," Gems shrugged. Then he looked out of the mouth of the cavern at the stone where he saw Charly as a mermaid so many years ago. "And I sure do wish I'd seen how she was able to get to that there rock in all that rough water without getting' hurt." 

"Germaine?" 

"Huh?" He looked up at the tall mainlander. 

"How long ago did Charly's father take the twins out to sea?" 

"I dunno." 

"Think hard, Germaine," Royce said, seeing the man's scruffy face frown curiously up at him. 

"Why does it matter? Her pa did the right thing. He took them back where they belong. It's not as if they wouldn't get goin' eventually, just like May had gone and never came back. I knows she's gone back where she belongs." 

"May is Charly's mother's name?" 

"Yea." 

"But I thought her mother had passed away." 

"Oh, that's what everybody even Charly thinks, but I knows May just went back to her folk." 

"Why do you think that?" 

"I don't think it. I knows it." 

"Why are you convinced she went back to her merfolk?" 

"Cuz my pa told me so. Said he talked to Charly—Charly's pa—and he told 'im one night that he misses May and that he should'a never let her out of his sight. She snuck out one night when he was asleep and disappeared." 

"Do you believe your father's version of the story?" 

"Yea. My pa might be a lot of things, but he ain't no liar. Anyways, May's never been happy around here, so I guess when she saw her chance, she dived into the sea and never looked back. I guess she's back with her people and I'm thinkin' Charly's pa brought the twins back to be with their grandma. They're better off." Then he looked up at him. "Have I been answerin' your questions right? Have I been tellin' you what you wanted to hear?" 

Royce smiled as he nodded once. "You've been very helpful, Mr. Jones." 

Gems looked up into the mainlander's handsome face. "So you're not gonna try and buy the lighthouse from the Meerens anymore now? Cuz I knows it's been botherin' her that you people keep at her about it. So now I've told you what you wanted to hear...you're not gonna try and push her to sell?" 

"No, Mr. Jones, we're not going to push her to sell," he said, and watched as the younger man's scruffy face broke into a smile. 

"She'll be happy about that," he said. "She might even be happy enough to not be so mean to me." He sighed but then he looked at the incoming tide and up at the mainlander. "We best get back. The tide's comin' in and we don't wanna be here when it does." And with that, he turned and headed back to the boat as Royce's smile faded as his sharp blue eyes followed for a few moments before he turned and brought up the rear. 

* * * * 

Charly's body was temporarily incapacitated—another word for broken—and the first thing she became aware of as she stirred awake was that she was hurting all over. Rainbow scales lay scattered here and there on the damp sand, ripped off by the sharp rocks when she came crashing down on them. She had bled, as well, because there were traces of smudged blood by the corners of her lips but there were no noticeable wounds. Good thing mermaids healed quickly! 

She blinked big dilated eyes through the web of long damp hair full of sand before she made a pained face. "Ugh," she uttered and winced, feeling her back had been badly damaged but was now in the process of healing. When she could move a little more, she slowly pulled herself up with the aid of her webbed hands, and with a great deal of "ows" and "ughs", she finally got herself to sit in the classic mermaid pose, only, she wasn't on a rock. 

She shook her head to clear it and pulled the long swirling wet strands of hair from her face. Then she let her gaze drop while she twisted her waist to assess the damage of her mermaid's tail...and then frowned when she spotted small wing-like fins sticking out her elbows. 

"What the...?" She raised both of her folded arms back to have a good look at those strange fins, seeing these things for the very first time in her life! "At least they match," she mumbled, seeing that they were of the same color and texture as her mermaid's tail. 

She frowned, very upset, on seeing that she suffered some major damage. She saw her rainbow scales scattered and shimmering on the sand and she turned her head to look at the spot behind her where she recalled crashing into before she dropped and rolled down to where she was now. 

"That was one painful landing," she whispered to herself. 

Suddenly, the sound much like that of a seal's bark, echoed around her and she snapped up her head and stared with big eyes at a handsome head with drenched black hair, bobbing on the frothy water of the cavern's surf. 

It was a guy! 

It was the face of the creature that had pursued her and what had sent her flying out of the water. She silently watched as he made himself rise higher than the frothy waves, bearing his wide shoulders, solid smooth chest, and toned arms before he quietly slid back into the water, up to his shoulders. A merman! When he was certain he had her attention, he opened his mouth and 'barked' at her again. 

"Stop barking at me!" she shouted across the gap at him. 

He responded with another bark. 

"Do you speak?!" she called out to him over the noise of the surf, and saw him cock his head. "I guess not," she mumbled just as he slowly straightened his head on his shoulders. Then she watched as he raised a webbed hand out of the water and began slapping the surface, splashing water all around him. She frowned, confused, not understanding what he was doing nor why. 

When he realized she didn't understand what he wanted, he quit water-slapping and calmly swam closer to the shore. There was a quizzical look in his big blue eyes that she couldn't decipher. 

"What in the heck do you want?" she whispered to herself. 

He cocked his head again before he suddenly propelled himself up out of the water only to dive gracefully, head first, back into it. She watched as his beautiful shimmering blue lower half curled in an arch as it slid almost silently into the water before his magnificent tail fins, much like hers, emerged as water ran down from it in a miniature waterfall. 

Was he leaving? 

Just when she thought his tail fins were about to disappear under the surface of the water, it erected, hauled back, and shot forward. She cried out when he shoved a tail-full of water her way, sending a huge wave over her. She was still in mermaid form so she couldn't shoot out of the way, and like a sitting duck, all she could do was throw up her arms to shield her face when water came crashing down around her, drenching her once again. 

"Hey!" she cried just when his head popped out of the water again to look at her. "That wasn't funny!" 

He cocked his head again before slowly straightening it on pale broad shoulders, watching as she angrily grabbed her dripping drenched hair over one shoulder and began squeezing out the water. She only briefly paused to stick up a single finger with a look of warning. 

"Don't you dare! Don't you dare do that again!" 

She didn't know if he could understand her but she was too upset to care. He'll just have to try and it figure out by her actions. As she twisted the water out of her hair, she watched him closely with a distrustful frown, especially when he moved again. This time, though, he didn't appear to want to splash her but swam in a circle, keeping his eyes on her. He was clearly trying to tell her something but she didn't have a clue what that was. Then he repeated that water-slapping and it was then when it dawned on her might want from her. 




Captivated Ch. 06



Her eyebrows shot up as she paused in her task. "You want me in the water, don't you?" she said, and although she said it softly, she saw that he had heard her because he paused with that water slapping before he drew his hand under water again. "Yea," she said scoffingly, "don't think so. I don't care if you stay there all night, I ain't going back into the water until you're gone, so you might as well leave now and not waste your time." 

"You speak as they." 

She froze and stared in shock as he tilted his head, clearly waiting for her response. 

"Did you...did you just speak?" 

"You understand what I speak," he noted. 

"Yes. Because you're not barking like a seal now," she pointed out. "You're actually speaking in my native tongue." 

He tilted head again but then he but slowly shook his head. "My speech not changed. I speak not as the land creatures. I cannot." 

"You just did!" 

"No." He shook his head. "I speak only the language of the sea." 

"Language of the sea?" 

"This...what you call...tongue. Sea creature tongue. It is the tongue spoken in the sea, and you understand and now speak it as well." 

She was totally confused now. What she heard was English not 'mermaid'. Did she somehow begin to speak "mermaid" without even knowing it? She had to. This merman said as much and he understood her. Was speaking mermaid a natural thing for all mermaids, even hybrids? 

"Why did you flee from me?" 

"Huh? What?" 

"I chose to come to you, and you flee. What female are you to flee when a male comes upon your beckoning?" 

"Beckon—what?" She shook her head. Then she looked upset. "No. I didn't "beckon" anything or anyone. You attacked me!" 

"Attack?" He frowned as he cocked his head again. 

"Yes. Attack. I thought you wanted to harm me. That's why I fled." 

"Attack? Harm?" He looked genuinely confused. "I came, for it is your time." 

"My...time?" 

"You are ready to receive me. Your scent...never have I tasted such a scent as yours. It is very beautiful. It is the maiden scent, thus, you beckoned and I have come for you." 

Stunned, Charly merely stared at him with unblinking eyes. Then, when the full meaning of his words sank in, her jaw dropped. Now she got it! He hadn't careened into her by mistake. He careened into her to mate! 

"Now you understand," he said. "And now you must return to the water." 

"Excuse me?" 

He frowned in confusion. "What is this "excuse me"?" 

"It's a figure of speech." 

"I do not understand." 

She waved a hand. "It's not important." 

"Then why did you speak it?" 

"Never you mind," she said with a firm and impatient look and tone. 

"But I wish to understand your tongue and...figure of speak." 

"Figure of speech," she corrected, "and the only thing you need to understand is that there's not going to be any "receiving" of you and absolutely no mating between us." 

"You do not wish to receive me?" 

"No." 

"You do not wish to mate?" 

"Absolutely NOT." Then she took on a kinder disposition. "Look," she began, "we can talk if you like." There was so much she wanted to ask him, talk to him about, beginning with if there were more of him—them—out there in the vast oceans, and if they were homogenous or are there separate 'tribes' of different kinds of merfolk. 

"Talk?" He frowned. "You are in heat, and talk should not be most important—" 

"—It is going to be talk, or you can leave right now," she cut in firmly. 

He slowly relaxed and got curious. "Does Charlene not wish to receive me?" 

She blinked in surprise. "Y-You know my name?" 

"You must learn not to speak when I speak." He looked cross and she looked stunned back at him. "But I will tell you even as you deserve scold, not answers." 

Her eyes went limp with a wry look, but it was lost on him. 

"You are similar to your birth-maid in look." he said. 

"—Birth...maid?" 

"The maid you are born of. Your mother." 

She felt herself choke up and she quickly looked away. "How would you know?" She asked softly before she raised her gaze and looked at his unemotional face. "I was told she died giving birth to me." 

"Died?" he asked, puzzled, and she shrugged slender shoulders, but he shook his head. "She did not die, Charlene. She speaks of you much. She longs to be reunited with you and she awaits your choice to return to our world, far, far below." 

"My...choice?" 

"Your mother has told our people of you. She has told them that you have a choice you must make," he said with a calm wise look and tone, "to remain on land or to return to your people. It is a choice neither merman nor mermaiden is given but you, for you are part land creature, part sea creature." 

Charly looked quietly at him. "You know my name, but I don't know yours. What is your name?" 

He paused for a moment, sensing something melancholy about her. "I am called Argur." 

"Argur," she repeated softly as she looked at him. "Tell me about this world, far, far below. Tell me about my birth-maid. And tell me about this choice my mother speaks of." 

* * * * 

Although Charly would've never guessed, not in a million years, that that self-imposed sabbatical in her secret grotto in order to get away from the Mastersons would have resulted in an eye-opening event, it ultimately rejuvenated, strengthened, and made her wiser in ways she could have never achieved on her own. 

She never knew another mercreature, so she learned all she could now she met one. 

She decided not to overthink how she and Argur met. More importantly, why they had met—at least, from Argur's perspective. No. She didn't go there although she could feel he wanted to explore this possibility with her. Instead, she spent all this time, night and day, in the grottos with him, with this strangely unemotional merman who appeared unable to come out of the water the way she could. 

While he remained in the water, she transformed back into her human form. Thanks to this cavern being her secret place, she'd brought a treasure chest there, had dried it out, and had placed towels and a simple toga in it for those times when she wanted to stay there a while. They now came in handy. 

She never transformed in front of him, though. She'd crawl her way to hide behind a rock where there was enough water to help her transformation, very much aware what he wanted from her. The last thing she wanted to do was give him a hint she was open to that. She wasn't, even though he was strikingly handsome and would make heads turn back at Mount Desert. But she just didn't feel attracted to him. 

Since she wasn't sure if he could become aroused in the same way human men did when seeing a naked female body, she believed it was her safest bet not to parade naked in front of him. She needed answers and information, not seduction! 

They spoke of this other world where her mother now lived, and about the other merfolk—which counted in the mere thousands, much to her surprise. Although she refrained from talking about her twins, she spoke of her father but Argur couldn't help her there. He knew nothing about a "land creature" of the description she gave him. 

But he did tell her he was a prince. His father was king and he was the only male offspring. He proudly told her that he's fathered "a great number of merchildren". That 'great number' was ten, but they were all living which was something he was proud of because it appeared to be an anomaly. Apparently, merfolk death rates were extremely high. Apparently, also, he wanted to add her womb to the list of mermaids who would bear him more merchildren. 

Not. Going. To. Happen. 

They talked for hours and hours, and when they were hungry, he'd sometimes leave her and return with seaweed, shrimp, fresh fish, and even lobster. He was surprisingly caring even if he had trouble showing his emotions. 

When she felt comfortable enough that he wouldn't try anything with her, she chanced a dip, and when he made no move to wrap her in his long tail, she even went with him to hunt for food. As the days and nights slipped by, she began to feel a bit more comfortable with him, and she transformed into her mermaid form with him watching. He didn't seem aroused by her transformation but rather more interested in how it happened. She couldn't help but notice how her transformation captivated him as he watched in silent awe. And feeling confident that he wouldn't want to try and mate with her, she eventually let her guard down and they actually began to be friendly with each other. 

She learned so incredibly much in that short period of time with him. They talked, ate, swam, talked, ate swam, till the wee hours of every morning until, finally, she succumbed to sleep and laid herself in her human form by a small fire that she had built on the sand to keep her human skin pleasantly dry. 

Argur never exited the water, and she believed it was because he couldn't. He told her that mermaidens—as he called the females of their kind—possessed powers the males did not. 

She believed that transforming their aquatic part into land legs was part of that exclusive arsenal of awesome female powers because Argur remained in the water and never attempted to come out or transform...but he was fascinated by the flames when she built herself a small campfire. 

She didn't know how long she was with Argur, but she discovered he wasn't much for good-byes when, one late afternoon after she awakened from a nap, she found herself alone. She called out to him and searched for him, but it soon dawned on her that he was gone. She waited one more day and one more night, and when the next morning she still didn't see any sign of him, she knew he'd left. 

"Am I that undesirable?" she had muttered to herself. 

Well, it was high time for her to return to Mount Desert Island, anyway. 

Early that morning, even before the sun rose in the horizon, she hauled her heavy mermaid's body up the big rocks. Once there, she pulled and finally pushed herself up to sit before she gave one last look back at the spot where she's spent so much time with this merman and where she learned so much. 

She sighed. She felt a sense of unrequited longing. Then she shook her head and that gloom from her head, swept her large and beautiful tail fins out as if opening a spectacular fan, and gave it a good shake. 

"All good things do eventually come to an end," she whispered just before she threw her arms and her shoulders forward before propelling herself off the rock and into the foaming surf to begin her journey home. 

To be continued 

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Captivated Ch. 07



Chapter7: Turning Tide

All good things do eventually come to an end. This played in her head from morning, noon, to night and ever since returning to the lighthouse three days ago. And it's been eating at her insides no matter how hard she tried to squelch it.

"If only those damned words would stop running around in my head," she mumbled with an irate look on her pretty face. "It's not as if I don't already have so much to think about," she added as she opened the glass door to McDougal's Coffee Shop and entered.

In addition to her trademark dark men's clothing—a pair of baggy denims and an oversized black hoodie sweatshirt—Charly Meeren also wore a grim and pensive look. She was obviously in deep thought, oblivious to the friendly faces watching her.

But not for long.

"Hiya, Charly!" she heard in a chorus, and it stopped her dead in her tracks as the glass door slowly closed behind her. She was torn out of her troubled ponderings, and it was anything but a pleasant experience. She blinked in surprise for a few seconds before she smiled a little uncomfortably, a little annoyed, and finally gave them all a quick nod before she made a beeline for her spot at the counter.

Having heard the chorus of jovial greetings, Mac emerged from the kitchen just when she'd taken her seat at the counter. On seeing her, his eyes lit and he smiled, happy to see her after such a long time. "We've missed ya, Charly. Good to see you up and around again."

She smiled and took the menu. "Missed your breakfast, Mac," she muttered as she perused the items on the menu.

"Hardy-har-har," he said, but in his heart he was happy as could be that Charly was back. He was so afraid that she'd left without notice, just like her father. He knew the island wouldn't be the same without a Meeren taking up residence there. It would become an Isle of zero Enchantment.

Fact of the matter was, this last time had been the very first time she'd been away this long. He'd been pretty worried about her. A full three weeks, give or take a few days, had passed without Charly. The other islanders had been so worried that their treasure had gone undercover that even a few brave ones had come together and had gone to her lighthouse. They reported back that no one had answered their calls at her door.

"So, what'll it be this mornin'? Whatever you choose, it's on the house," Mac said cheerfully.

"That's mighty kind of you, Mac," Charly said with a smile that didn't reach her sad eyes. "I'll have some light toast, two raw eggs, two strips of bacon, and some hash browns."

He came over to her side of the counter and set a steaming mug of her special herbal tea on the counter, and she smiled as she set the standing menu back and took her mug to her.

"Whadd'ya want for toast? Sourdough, white, wheat or rye?" he asked.

"I'll have sourdough this time," she said with a nod.

He nodded in return before he turned and relayed her order to the two short order cooks behind the hanging heat lamps.

Charly sipped her tea as she recalled the events in Argur's company and the fact that she'd been with him for over three weeks. She'd lost all sense of time while in the grotto and was completely surprised to discover that she'd been there so long with him. It was probably the reason why she felt a sense of loss when he disappeared on her.

Then on her way back to the lighthouse that early morning, the sadness was only compounded when she also discovered that the Masterson's yacht was gone from its dock. She had felt a certain cramping sensation squeezing inside her chest; a strange sense of emptiness, but she quickly and mercilessly squelched it as much as she could.

It was ridiculous to feel this way about Royce Masterson. It was ridiculous to feel sad that he up and left Mount Desert Island without telling her. She held no claim on him and he certainly didn't owe her anything. Besides, she barely knew him—well, that really wasn't entirely true. She knew him pretty well, actually, but only on a physical level...and only that one time.

Yes, he was right. She was the girl he was with that night, but she could never admit that to him because it would only be a matter of time before he learns about the twins...and that he fathered them. With his zeal to get the lighthouse, she was afraid that he'd use her babies in order to force a sale. She couldn't let that happen.

After that night in his bed, and for the longest time, she felt it had been the biggest mistake of her life—especially when she discovered she'd gotten pregnant afterward. Then she had the twins, and it changed everything for her. She reevaluated her situation and her lonely life, and the fact that her children would be the balm her desolate soul desperately yearned for. She'd finally have someone to love with all of her heart, and someone would love her back. Two 'someones', now.

It was at that moment when she began to remember the handsome young human on that boat fondly and no longer as the greatest mistake of her life. She would remember him as the one who gave her a taste of what it was like to feel warmth, admiration, tenderness, and being wanted...and all of this for the very first time in her existence. To top it all off, he gave her a gift for her to cherish and nurture. Well, it actually became two gifts.

Ava and Arthur.

And for just little over a year, she never felt happier. Then that little bit of happiness, too, was taken from her when her father took her children and disappeared with them. It had shattered her heart once again, and back was the overwhelming sense of desolation and sorrow. She had no idea where he'd gone with them. She had searched tirelessly for them for weeks, but she never found them.

How could he be so cruel, so selfish? Did he so despise her for being half mermaid? Was he so ashamed of her and so disappointed that his only child wasn't one hundred percent human that he couldn't bring himself to love her? Did this disappointment bleed over to her children, too? She never saw it, but her father had proven to be good at hiding his emotions, so she couldn't be certain.

What few people on the island knew and understood was, Charles J. Meeren was not the warmest person in the world. In fact, he's never been a loving father toward her. He was fairly aloof due to his obsessive preoccupation with her mother that was very similar to Gems' preoccupation with her.

So growing up, she was left to her own devices for as long as she could remember. She quickly learned how to survive the very moment she became aware of the world around her. Good thing mermaids matured quicker than human children or she would've never made it. This quick maturity was a necessary trait since the sea was vast and filled with so many dangerous and deadly sea creatures that wouldn't hesitate to make a meal out of an unsuspecting and naïve mermaid. So it was a pleasant surprise to her when, after her father discovered she was pregnant, he could actually be kind.

Throughout her pregnancy, her father busied himself with making sure she was comfortable. He saw to it that she ate right, that she had enough rest, and that she lived stress-free—things he never bothered with before. She didn't suspect a thing nor questioned his sudden change of attitude toward her because she was all too happy to be on the receiving end of it. Since she all but raised herself up until then, it had made it difficult for her to connect with people and to make friends, so her father was all she had. But those nine months when she carried the twins, he finally gave her what she craved and she was overjoyed that he'd become the father she so desperately wanted and needed.

Those were wonderful days, she thought sadly.

Of course, now it's clear why he did what he did. Now, after speaking with Argur and hearing him confirm her suspicions that her mother was not dead but still very much alive and waiting for her to make her choice to either be a mermaid or a human, her father's sudden change of attitude toward her back then became painfully clear.

It was then when she realized that his personality change wasn't for her. It was all out of pure selfishness. It had all been a terrible farce. Her father had only undergone a temporary personality change, not out of regret for neglecting her for most of her life, but out of the fact that she'd mothered merchildren.

Merchildren. Her children. They were precious to merfolk due to high fatality rates among their kind. It explained why sightings of mermaids and mermen have become so rare in these modern times, so it stood to reason that merfolk would do anything to preserve the continued existence of their kind...perhaps even trade one mermaid for two.

It tore her up inside to realize this probability. Her pain was exacerbated when she recognized that he'd planned all of this; planned to take her precious children away from her from the get-go. It stood to reason that he knew that merchildren were priceless assets to merfolk since her mother was a mermaid and she must've told him, just as Argur had told her with immense pride that he'd fathered ten merchildren and they were all alive and thriving.

Now she believed that her father had played her for a fool. He needed Ava and Arthur to be born and healthy in order to offer them to the merfolk in exchange for his wife—the wife who left him and the mother, he told her, who had died giving birth to her. Not that she believed him. Deep inside, she always felt, always sensed, that her mother was alive and well somewhere out there...and now Argur confirmed it.

Her father had lied to her all these years. Thanks to Argur, she now understood her father's reason for taking Ava and Arthur out to sea...Ava and Arthur, her precious babies; Royce Masterson's gift to her from a single night of pain and pleasure.

Royce. She never thought she'd ever see him again after that one night when she came looking for her Mermaid Pearl. Yes, Gems was correct about the mermaid's pearl—although he keeps calling it the "siren stone"—in as far that the pearl was a part of her, created when she was born and a gift only she had the right to give to the one she would choose to be her life's mate.

In the world of merfolk, the more pearls a merman gathered, the wealthier he was among the merfolk. Now Gems had her mother's pearl, and she needed him to give it willingly back to her or it would lose its value. She needed the pearl so she could maybe find a way to use it to bring her mother back. Surely, her mother would come to her to retrieve it? She might have tried with Gems but he might have scared her away. This was all just guess-work, but it was all she had to hold on to.

Over the years, as she happily cared for her babies, she rarely thought about the young man on the boat who made her feel alive for a few moments in time. She thought she'd never see him again. Then she was much too occupied with raising her merchildren and then panicking that her father had taken them, and then trying to fend off some big corporation's pushy proposals to buy her father's lighthouse to think about the handsome human.

That mega-corporation frustrated her so with their aggressive tactics that she finally just ignored them. How could she have known that the man she made mad passionate love to that night was the same man who was all but bullying her into selling the lighthouse?

And then the Masterson brothers appeared with their ladies. She immediately recognized Royce although his handsome face had filled out more and he looked stronger. Older. More serious. She had already seen him in his younger brother's features, and that already triggered those memories of long ago, but the moment she looked at Royce, she knew it was him.

She had hoped he wouldn't recognize her. There was every chance that would be the case since he'd been very drunk that night, it was dark, and it's been five years. Unfortunately, he eventually did recognize her. Now she found herself hounded. The pressure was too much, and she fled to gather her thoughts and regain herself. And then she met Argur...

Men—of both human and sea creature—just seemed to drop into her life whenever they please, and they took off without so much as a good-bye. It was disheartening and it made her feel strangely glum. It was why she was less than jovial that morning as she entered Mac's establishment.

It was normal that the people so used to seeing her at the coffee shop and her other regular hang-outs were bound to wonder what happened to her, but she was still confused and deeply troubled with what she'd just been through; feeling as if that part of her that she'd inherited from her mother was starting to grow stronger.

The pull to disappear into the sea was also growing stronger, but then she was reminded that she had no gills and that she could only submerge for two hours under the right conditions...and then she remembered that her children, too, lacked gills. How will they survive in an underwater world without them?

If her father, indeed, had taken them in order to barter them in exchange for her mother, why did it take so long? It's been almost three years! Could they have met their deaths out there somewhere?

That thought terrified her and made her feel ill. She pressed a hand over her tummy just as Mac came to the counter and set her order in front of her. She took one look at the food before she suddenly clamped a hand over her mouth, shot off the stool, and rushed for the restroom.

Mac put fists in his sides as he watched her go. "Yea, thanks, Charly!"

**~*~**

Later that afternoon, she decided to go to the market. She needed to get out of the lighthouse and get some fresh air to clear her troubled head—and help settle her stomach. She also needed fresh produce and supplies to fill that picky tummy. Her attempts at nurturing her human side by trying to eat human food weren't progressing well, but she wasn't going to give up!

"If at first...second...for the hundredth time...you don't succeed, you keep tryin' till you drop dead," she whispered with a sigh.

During those three weeks that she'd been gone, the food in her home had all gone bad. There was nothing for her to eat. And she really didn't feel like transforming for a dive in the pond and chase her meal every time she was hungry! So she needed to replenish her stock. Luckily, it was Friday, and there was always market on Fridays and prices at the market were very good—for her small budget, that is.

She tried not to think about the events of the past three-plus weeks as she walked peacefully along the many market stalls with wicker basket hooked on her arm. She tried to focus on the wealth of fresh fish brought in earlier that morning by the local fishermen, rather than her problems and fears. She nodded and smiled almost on auto-pilot at the other market visitors, but she kept her distance and they did the same. Like her, they sensed a change in her although, even if they asked her, she couldn't tell them what that change was.

Yes, she knew something had transformed her on a deeper level. She felt that transformation deep inside her, but she wasn't certain if she actually liked it or even if it was a positive one. What she didn't know was, she looked fresh and very attractive since returning from her three week sabbatical. It was as if she glowed from the inside out.

Other than her worries, it was a perfect morning, promising an equally perfect day. Unfortunately for her, though, it wasn't going to stay that way. It was about to change...for the worse.

Although the Masterson brothers had taken their yacht and left the harbor, they didn't return to New York. They'd only gone to the other side of the island to defuse a quarrel between the construction crew and the historians who were there to ensure that the lighthouse was renovated but kept in as original a state as possible. When they finished their business and calmed the waters, they left their yacht on the west side of the island and drove back to Charly's side. They were going to try, one last time, to convince her to sign the deed over to them. Then they'd head back to Manhattan.

On their way to the Bar Harbor Inn where their suites were booked, Cheryl had spied the bustling market and begged to have a look. So there they now were, enjoying a stroll through the market crowd...on a collision course with none other than Charly Meeren.

Neither party spotted the other, as caught up in the wonderful market and their enchanting wares and people as they were, and neither party spotted the scruffy man in a green army jacket and dark green woolen cap pulled down low over his head as if that could make him invisible.

Gems had heard that Charly was back in town, and after being worried sick that she'd taken off like her pa or went "back to her people", he decided to look her up and once and for all prove that he wasn't a nutcase and that she really was a sea siren. He'd noticed that Charly's absence was getting longer and longer and he was afraid that he was running out of time to expose her for the sea creature she really was. When he heard she was back, he rushed to put his plan into action that, hopefully, will prove to the world, once and for all, that Germaine Jones wasn't a total nutcase.

It wasn't hard to spot her. He saw her strolling along the fish stands for fresh fish. He surmised that she'd been gone so long that her private stock had been depleted, so it was that part of the market he headed for first, and he wasn't disappointed. He watched as she calmly did her shopping, and since the other islanders were never interested in him no one seemed to notice the two buckets full of water splashing at his sides nor the camera on a strap hanging around his neck.

He paused for a moment and watched with an annoyed frown how the object of his obsession changed course and stepped across one busy aisle to another fish stand. He cursed beneath his breath but, undeterred, proceeded to move among the shopping crowd, hell-bent on seeing his plan through.

Alice Brooks, a pretty brunette and who was the same age as he, saw him, and she smiled as she looked at him with big expressive brown eyes. She always had a thing for him ever since they were kids, and the moment she saw him, she smiled shyly. He didn't seem to even notice her standing with her mother by the bakery stand.

She put up a shy hand and waved but when he didn't seem to see her, she said her greeting a little louder. "Hi, Germaine!"

He briefly stopped with that frown glued on his brow before he looked at her.

She smiled shyly. "Nice day, ain't it?"

Then his gaze widened when he realized she'd called out his name a bit loudly because of the noise there, and his head snapped around to look in Charly's direction. She hadn't heard. She was standing by a fish stall, pointing at some fresh cut tuna and flounder.

He looked relieved.

When Gems didn't immediately rush off, Alice felt a little bolder and came over to him. It was then when she noticed the two buckets of water he was holding, but she didn't pay it much heed as she smiled up at him. "Say, Germaine," she began, "I was just talking with Lonnie Butterman, and she said that the Biddeford Fair was about to open in a couple o' weeks, so I was just wonderin' if maybe you'd like to go—"

"—Can't talk to you now, Allie!" he cut her off.

She went instantly red in her face but he'd already dismissed her as he sidestepped her and passed her with sloshing buckets of water in his hands.

Charly paid for some prime tuna and flounder cuts and was busy slipped her small change purse into her basket when Gems approached her. She said her thank you and turned with a smile, but that smile faded some when she heard a few gasps. It was then when she caught sight of Gems bearing down on her, and her eyes went from curious to big when she watched Gems bend down and set one of the buckets he was carrying on the ground by his feet and took the other in both hands...




Captivated Ch. 07



In the next instant, she quickly dodged the bucketful of water thrown at her.

"GEMS!" she shouted, angry and horrified. But then he'd quickly tossed the contents of the second bucket out, and in her upset to reprimand him, she didn't dodge that one and the water crashed down over her head as people around her cried out in shock when they caught a few drops while Charly caught the lion's share, instantly drenching her from nearly head to toe!

Without any regard for the horror he caused her—or the other islanders around her—Gems dropped the bucket with a hollow banging sound to the cobblestones, and grabbed up his camera to his eye as he peered through the lens, waiting for...for what, exactly?

Although otherwise impossible and, at any other given moment pretty much improbable, silence—a stunned and horrified silence—filled the air as Charly stood there, stiff and frozen, with dripping arms up and away from her sides as she stared with jaw agape and dripping eyelashes unblinking...drenched like a cat in a vicious Maine storm...

Then she slowly, oh so slowly, raised her head. As she did, her jaw slowly closed and her dripping turquoise eyes began to narrow just as a burning began in their depths. And by the time she had fixed them on Gems, they were spitting fire!

Gems, seemingly confused, slowly lowered his camera and frowned as he looked at a drenched Charly. He was so preoccupied by the failure of his plan and still asking himself why she hadn't begun to transform into her real self, that he didn't notice her breathing—something that was slowly accelerating and getting more intense with every passing second, making her delicate nostrils flare.

Not far from them some two stalls away, the four blond mainlanders stood as quiet and as seemingly stunned as everybody else as they stared at a confused Germaine and an increasingly upset Charly Meeren.

Then the silence was broken by an angry shout, but it came from a third party.

"What the HELL is WRONG with you, Gems?!" One local fishermen and stall owner barked as he stepped from behind his stall that was closest to Gems.

"Huh? Wh-What?" Gems looked up to find Mr. Treymore bearing down on him.

Treymore angrily snatched the camera out of Gems' hands and then the strap over his head with enough force to have Gems' head rolling, but the younger man quickly ducked and the strap came off fluidly without injury to him.

"Look what you've done?! Are you out of your mind?! Are you CRAZY?!"

"—NO!" Gems shouted angrily, hating that last word. "I was gonna prove to all o' ya's once and for all that Gems ain't crazy and that she turns into her real self when sea water from the east side grottos touches her skin! Then you'll all know that Gems has been right all along and that I'd seen her in her real form! I'd really seen her, I tell ya! That's why she never wears short sleeves or shows any body parts even when it's a hundred and nine out! She can't have sea water touch her skin—!"

"—How dare you!" Charly's enraged cry snarled, silencing Gems instantly. "Are you happy now, you imbecile?! Look what you've done to me! I'm drenched!"

"Why ain't you turnin'? Why ain't you showing your real siren self?" he asked, completely oblivious to the fury of her words and the rage lighting her eyes—and he had the unmitigated gall to look disappointed, too!

"That's IT!" Charly stamped her boot making a sucking, sloshing sound before she shot into a run for him.

Gems' eyes grew literally and perfectly round, before he finally realized he'd pissed her off, and with a scream not unlike a girl's, he snapped around and shot out the other way casting terrified looks over his shoulder.

Although Charly was furious, she wouldn't know what to have done with Gems had she caught him. She really just needed to chase him out of her sight before she found out, as infuriated as she felt at that moment. But the terrified looks he'd cast over his shoulder as he fled from her was payback enough, and she came to a sloshing stop as she watched him continue to run away. She was certain he wouldn't stop until he was safe and sound in his father's cottage.

"I can't believe he did this to me," she muttered, half in anger and half in dismay as she turned and 'sloshed' back to her fallen wicker basket.

Her face was wrung in an expression that looked between pain and disappointment. And then she looked downtrodden when she saw her fresh fish and produce scattered on the cobblestones. With tears of embarrassment and helplessness stinging her eyes, she came to her fallen basket and lowered herself on her knees before she began collecting what she could still use—which wasn't much. Most of her fish had fallen out of their wrappers and were soiled, and they were drenched by the water Gems had flung at her.

Although she was certain that the islanders around her, quietly watching her, didn't approve of what Gems did, she could feel their curious gazes. She knew they were also very interested to see if anything would happen to her—physically—just as Gems had wrongfully predicted. Although sea water was a part of the process of mermaid transformation, it was her mermaid's song that conjured the power to make it happen. Without it, no transformation could ever take place.

She was so embarrassed she could cry. In fact, she felt a single teardrop roll down her cheeks and she quickly fingered it away and sniffled as she continued to gather her soiled and drenched items into her basket.

"Here, Charly," Mr. Treymore said compassionately as he handed her a clean blue towel.

"Thank you," she muttered tearfully as she took it and swept it around her neck before she took her basket and rose to her sloshing feet.

"Here, lemme help you," Mr. Treymore said as he took her basket, and she didn't resist.

She slipped the towel from around her neck and began toweling off her face with trembling fingers as she watched through a blur of unshed tears as he began replacing the soiled items in her basket with freshly wrapped ones. Then she paused when she saw other merchants come with wrapped produce.

"Here you go, Charly," Remy Paulson said as she handed her a plastic bag of watercrest.

"I had a few tuna filets left over," Carson Billingsworth, a fish merchant, said as he carefully put wrapped tuna fish in her wicker basket.

As more and more merchants came over to her and placed their gifts into her wicker basket, she felt better and even smiled through her tears.

"Thank you. Thank you all," she said softly with a smile of true gratitude before Mr. Treymore lifted her basket and handed it to her. She took it with a deeply grateful look and smile and then saw that her basket was filled with more fish and produce than it originally contained.

"Oh, but this is too much!" she protested.

"Nah, Charly," Carson Billingsworth, a scruffy fisherman and fish merchant, said as he shook his proud head full of silver gray hair. "We knows it's been hard times for ya. And I have to admit," he winked, "fishin's always been pretty good for all of us. We just wanna give somethin' back now we have the chance, is all."

She blinked big eyes when the others agreed in a chorus. Feeling tinier than a mite and yet grateful at the same time, she bowed her head and nodded her appreciation before she made a beeline for the exit of the market, not seeing three blond mainlanders watching her as she passed them.

Of course the islanders knew about her and her mother. Still, it was never so blatantly said in public and in front of her the way Mr. Billingsworth now did. She felt so on the spot, so embarrassed, that when she could, she sped up the pace and had only one thing in mind—getting out of there as quickly as she could without looking pathetic—scratch that!—looking more pathetic than she already did.

As she exited the market place with that goal in mind, she missed the tall blond mainlander leaning against a streetlight post, and promptly passed him without so much as a glance!

"Need a ride?"

Immediately recognizing that voice, she stopped and snapped around as she stared at him with big wet eyes full of shock.

"What are you doing here??" she cried softly.

He smiled as he quirked his head. "I believe you know what I'm doing here."

She swallowed and quickly glanced back at the market, wondering if he'd seen what had happened. Then again, he hadn't asked her why she was drenched, and she lowered her eyes to look down her length and barely stopped herself from wincing.

"The Humvee is just behind you," he said, motioning with his head to a spot behind her.

"Thank you, but no thank you," she said before she turned to resume her walk. She was embarrassed to the core of her soul because she realized that his lack of asking why she was so wet could only mean that he knew and he only knew because he'd seen it happen!

"We need to talk, Charly—"

"—No, we don't."

"—About Ava and Arthur."

He watched as she shook her head, but she didn't stop nor did she slow down. She actually accelerated her pace into the fastest walk he's ever seen!

Charly wanted to run like the wind! It wasn't only because she knew Royce Masterson had witnessed what had happened, nor was it the shock she felt when she realized he hadn't left after all or that he knew about her twins, but she wanted to flee that place because she felt something was amiss with her. Physically. She was becoming lightheaded and dizzy, and she believed it had something to do with the tears she'd shed earlier. She couldn't afford to dehydrate and she learned, early on, that she dehydrated far quicker than any human alive and that dehydration could kill her.

"We have to talk and we will!"

In the next moment, she felt a hand grab her arm, make her stop, and she was spun about-face. That only exacerbated her bout of dizziness and she felt her strength drop. Her fingers lost all power and the basket dropped from them before hitting the ground. She felt her legs go weak and her neck muscles go lax, and she fought to not follow the way of her wicker basket as she struggled to keep her head straight on her shoulders.

"Don't touch me," she wanted to shout indignantly, but it sounded weak and breathless in her ears. "Please...don't touch...me."

"I'm not going to let you run off and hide again—" But before he could finish, he saw the sickly look on her pretty face, and then he felt all strength leak out of her as if she were a punctured balloon. "Charly!" he called just when she dropped, but he quickly caught her up and swung her up into his arms. She felt so lifeless now, and it changed his disposition instantaneously, replacing impatience with concern—and rising panic. "What's wrong with you?"

Her lips moved but for a few brief moments, no sound came. Then, "W-w-w..."

He quickly stalked to a nearby bench and sat her up on it, but she was suddenly too weak to even sit. He kept his arm around her and held her close to his body to support her, and then he placed a large hand against her cheek and made her raise her pale face to him. Her eyes were closed although he felt she was still awake...somewhat.

"Tell me what I need to do, Charly," he whispered urgently with as calm a tone as he could muster since he was deeply concerned but didn't want her to pick that up in his voice. "Tell me what you need me to do," he repeated.

"Here."

Royce snapped up his head to see none other than Germaine Jones standing nearby holding out a plastic bottle of water. Royce looked enraged as he looked at the younger man, and he saw Germaine take a step back, but he continued to hold out the bottle of water.

"Get away from her or so help me—"

"—She needs sea salted water," Gems quickly said. "She's dehydrated. I saws it happen before and she had to drink sea salted water."

The mainlander glared at him with the most viciously cold eyes he'd ever seen in a man's head! And for a few moments there he was certain the big man would get up and punch his lights out, but he was as concerned for Charly as the mainlander was, and that gave him unusual courage.

"I ain't lyin', Mr. Masterson...she needs to drink sea salted water or she just might die." Then Gems nodded. "Look at her lips. They're already crackin' and turnin' blue."

Royce tore his angry gaze from the younger man, and looked upon Charly's face. His handsome face was, despite the red of anger in his lean cheeks, ashen when he saw Germaine was right. Her lips were not only dry and cracked as if she'd been in the Sahara for days, but they had an eerie bluish tint, too.

"Unscrew the damn cap and give it to me!" Royce snapped.

Gems quickly unscrewed the cap off and stepped forward before he held out the bottle of water to the other man. He watched as Royce Masterson quickly took it and held the open top to her lips. When they didn't move, he trickled a little water onto her lips, and then they both watched as she responded by opening her lips for more.

Royce kept trickling the sea salted water into her mouth, but he was growing increasingly concerned when he noticed that she wasn't awakening. Soon, her lips quit moving and water trickled alongside her face and into her short black curls.

"Wake up, Charly," he whispered softly, and although her color was returning, she wasn't stirring awake. "Why isn't she waking up?"

"Maybe she needs to git back to the lighthouse. I think that's where she's strongest," Germaine told him anxiously.

Royce looked up with a grim face and nodded. "Okay. Come with me," he said as he screwed the cap back on the bottle and, still holding it, carefully gathered her limp body into his arms. With Germaine Jones bringing up the rear, he marched to the parked Humvee just up the dune and had the younger man disengage the alarm and open the passenger's side door. "I need you to come with us," he told Gems.

Gems took a step back, shaking his head. "I-I-I don't wanna go to her lighthouse," he said, but the bigger man impatiently grabbed a bunch of his jacket sleeve and as he tugged open one of the rear doors, he shoved him into the backseat.

"We don't have time for your superstitious shit!" Royce snapped.

"I-I can git your brother to come with you, Mr. Masterson—!"

Royce slammed the door shut in his face before he sprinted for the driver's side. But when he opened the door to get in behind the wheel, he heard one of the doors slam shut and he shot up his head just in time to see Gems running off with big frightened eyes over his cowardly shoulders. He wanted to chase down that idiot and throttle him, but there was no time for pleasure, so he slipped in behind the wheel and started the Humvee.

He drove the short distance to her lighthouse and parked the Humvee by the red and white guardrails. He'll call Ry and the girls on the cell phone when he had Charly safely in her lighthouse and has seen to her. If what Germaine told him was true, she should be revived by the time Ry and the girls arrived.

He carried Charly's limp body down the steps and onto the path that led to the wood and rope bridge in front of the lighthouse. He was happy to hear her stirring awake the closer he got to the lighthouse. He carried her across the wood and rope bridge and then to the small porch where he allowed her legs down before he began searching for her keys in her pockets. She made a moan of protest when he was feeling in the pockets of her denim pants, but he ignored it. When he finally found the skeleton-key, he tried it, and it turned in the lock.

A few moments later, he carried her to a faded blue sofa that's seen better days, and he gently laid her on it, propping up her head with one of the mismatch nautical-themed throw pillows. Then he seated himself beside her and leaned over her as he studied her eyes as she frowned and fought to open them. He gently caressed her damp black curls from her eyes, untangling the curly strands from her impossibly long eyelashes, his handsome face etched with concern.

"Tell me what to do, Charly," he whispered with an agonizing tone of concern. "I'm at a loss." He shook his head. "I don't know what to do for you."

Then he realized that her clothes were still wet. She needed to get out of them or she might get sick. He quickly got up and searched the small abode, looking through the few doors, finding the kitchen, a masculine bedroom, and on his way to another room, passed an open door to a room where two small beds were.

He paused as he looked at the two pretty beds. He knew it was the bedroom of Charly's children. He felt a lump in his throat but he had no time to waste. He quickly moved on to the last door and finally found what appeared to be her room.

He stalked over to the armoire and opened it, finding a sad collection of clothes. But they were unmistakably Charly's. He quickly grabbed a dark blue hoodie, a pair of clean denims, and laid these on her full-size bed. Then he turned and went in search for underwear.

He came to a five-drawer chest but paused when he noticed a framed photograph on top of it. His blue eyes softened when he saw it was a picture of her twins as babies...they were wrapped in simple baby swaddling blankets, and she was holding one in each arm, smiling warmly down at them. Then he opened the top drawer, found some underthings, and shoved it shut before laying everything out on her bed. When he was about to leave to get her and carry her into the room he caught a glimpse of something and suddenly stopped short. In an elegant white rounded wall niche with shell motif, on a bed of small iridescent scallop shells, was a familiar green and blue "sea stone".

Ryan's sea stone.

"You have to go."

He snapped his head around and saw Charly was up. She was barely keeping herself on her feet as she leaned heavily against the door jamb of her room. Her eyes were hazy and she was still pale, but at least her lips weren't blue and cracked anymore.

"I don't want you here," she whispered as she looked at him on the verge of tears. "You're not supposed to be here. I want you to go!"

He didn't say anything as he stepped to her but with a soft yelp, she put up her hands to ward him off. He ignored that and took her arms to help her to her bed, but she struggled.

"You don't understand!" she cried softly, her voice breaking with pent-up emotions. "I can't cry again. I don't want to cry again. You have to go—"

"—You're not well," he said, cutting her off with a quiet but firm tone.

"I'll be fine if you go," she said as she looked up at him. "Please go—"

"—Are they mine?" he asked with an earnest look. He watched her stare up at him with what looked like fright. "Are they?"

To be continued

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