I would keep it together. I reminded myself that I was just tired and took several deep breaths in before I continued.
“We weren’t able to find her sister, but Atalanta made it through her transition. It was rough, but she finally woke up the day before yesterday and is back at her house recovering.”
My shoulders slumped, and I sat back further into the couch. My hands were trembling. I honestly couldn’t remember the last time I had a decent meal or a full night of sleep. That was probably why my head wouldn’t stop pounding.
My parents were silent, watching me. I didn’t mind. I could wait for their inevitable questions while I tried to pull myself together.
Maybe close my eyes for a moment.
I wondered how Atalanta was doing. When I left, she had been asleep. She’d slept a lot in the last few days. If she was awake now, I could only assume she was crying or eating, as it seemed that was almost all she was capable of doing at the moment. I couldn’t blame her. However, if she was crying, I wanted to be there for her. At least knowing that Percy was there with her brought me some peace.
Yet, there was this nagging in the back of my brain, similar to when I felt a storm coming. There was no storm, at least not today. It would rain on and off for a few hours, and that was about it.
What was this feeling, then?
I was jolted out of my daze when something cool was pressed to my face. Opening my eyes, I saw my mother staring down at me with a warm smile.
“My poor, foolish boy. You shouldn’t be separated from your mate so soon.”
“My mate?” I shook my head. “She’s not my mate.”
“Did you think that changing someone wouldn’t forge some sort of connection between the two of you? You have feelings for her and changed her. As far as your instincts are concerned, she’s yours.”
My frown deepened. I didn’t understand what she was talking about. From what I was told, mates chose each other and only formed a mating bond after performing a ceremony. Though, when I thought about it, all of the changed Mer I had met were mated to the Mer that had turned them.
“I bet you don’t feel so hot right now.” She felt my forehead with the back of her hand.
I nodded. I was exhausted and hadn’t realized how feverish I felt until she placed the cool rag on my forehead.
“Your body is protesting your separation. It’s in our very DNA to protect those we’ve turned, similar to the deep sea Mer ability to create bonds. Except that nagging feeling will only get worse the longer you’re apart. It probably doesn't help that you clearly haven’t been sleeping. It’s harder, the separation, when one of you isn’t well.”
“Is that why you and Dad are always so close to each other?” I asked.
My father, who had still been sitting on the couch when I opened my eyes, stood and walked over to us. Taking Mom into his arms, he said. "Well, we’ve been around a long time. At this point, it’s just love.”
The two of them shared an adoring look.
I knew their story. Many years ago my mother washed ashore, coming to the surface for the first time after an argument with her family. My father was a scholar who was exploring this region, studying the sea life. Imagine his luck when he stumbled upon a real-life mythical sea creature. He didn’t know that, of course; he had thought he found a nut job who couldn’t speak a lick of English walking up and down the beach butt-naked.
Just like in The Little Mermaid, my dad took her in and got to know her despite the communication barrier. It wasn’t a cliffside castle, and my father wasn’t a prince, but they still fell in love. Eventually, he figured out what she was and he took the risk by asking her to turn him.
It almost destroyed the relationship they built, and after much argument, he stopped asking. They were good for a while until he got sick, and my mother decided she could either let him die from consumption or try and save him. Merfolk don’t suffer from the same illnesses as humans, so she knew that if she was successful, his newly altered immune system could quickly kill off the bacteria.
It was successful, and they have been happily mated for the last hundred and fifty years.
I was snapped out of my musings when my parents had begun to get all lovey-dovey with each other, something I was used to at this point and was at least grateful I had parents that got along. However, when Dad began to put his hands up Mom’s shirt, I gagged.
“Gods, guys, stop! I’m right here!” I shouted and covered my eyes.
My mom chuckled. “Sorry, honey.”
“No, you're not,” I grumbled back.
I stood from the couch, ignoring the light-headed feeling that came over me, and walked into the kitchen to grab some water. Taking a sip of the cool tap water, I scrunched my nose. It was missing something. Reaching into the cupboard, I snagged the salt and dumped its contents into the water before taking another sip.
I sighed. “Better.”
“You should take your mate swimming later. I bet it will help her recover faster,” Mom suggested as she came into the kitchen and pulled a slice of cake out of the fridge.
There was cake?
I opened the fridge, and when I didn’t see any, I looked up to my mom, who was happily biting down on her slice, and pouted.
“This is my slice. Get your own,” she said, pulling the plate closer to her.
“I would, but I don’t see any more.”
“Too bad, then,” she mocked.
I scowled and shut the door to the fridge. I shot my glare over to my father when I heard him chuckling softly. I bet he knew where she hid the cake. One look told me he wouldn’t tell me though, especially when Mom shared a bite of her slice with him.
Traitor.
“She’s not my mate,” I grumbled, getting back on track would help distract me from the cake. My poor cake.
“You can deny it, but like I said, your instincts will say otherwise. You’re jittery, burning up, and I bet two dollars you can’t stop worrying about her. Like a drug addict going through withdrawal.” She took another bite and said around a mouthful of cake. "Actually, I’m surprised you were even able to stay separated from her for this long. The first few weeks are the worst. I could hardly go to the bathroom alone without feeling nauseous.”
I couldn’t meet her eyes. She wasn’t wrong. That little nagging at the back of my brain was there, making me wonder if Atalanta was okay. I had a feeling the answer to her second statement had something to do with the other guys.
“It’s complicated,” I muttered.
“Often, things aren’t as complicated as we make them seem,” Dad said.
“I know,” I replied. I didn’t think I could tell them about the others yet.
“Regardless,” Mom pointed her fork at me. “Take her for a swim tonight, and tomorrow you should bring her around for dinner.”
I looked down at the glass of salt water in my hand. It wasn’t a bad idea.
“I’ll see if Atalanta’s up for a swim tonight, but I can't guarantee about tomorrow night. We are going to go visit her father in the hospital tomorrow, and I don’t know if she will be okay to socialize with strangers.”
That, and I didn’t want her around my parents until we sorted out that file we found. The last couple of days, we had been letting Atalanta recover before we went about asking why she had a file for a fake identity and who she really was. One thing at a time, Percy had said.
I felt a buzz in my back pocket and pulled out my phone to read the text on the screen.
My brow furrowed. “Hey, something’s come up. I have to go.”
“Is everything alright?” Dad asked, concern etched in his voice.
“Yeah, Davie needs my help starting his car,” I lied as I put down my glass and hurried towards the door. I stopped to hug my parents and scratch the top of Rocket’s head before jogging to my car.