3

ANGEL COULDN’T BELIEVE HER GOOD LUCK. SHE’D HIT THE

crabpot!

Then she saw Harry’s fin circling off the bow for the eighth time since she’d awoken and amended that. Luck had nothing to do with this; Hammerhead Harry did. And wouldn’t it tweak his big ol’ blockhead to know he could be helping her right into her dream job?

Served the shark right. Try to eat her, would he? Keep her stranded on a boat? Ha. Angel couldn’t stop her grin. “Thank you very much for your offer, Logan. I’d love to stay.”

“All right!” Michael bounced again—she couldn’t wait to try that when she was alone—but his father looked a little green around the gills.

“Michael, I don’t think—” The little black box on Logan’s hip started playing music. He glanced at it and exhaled. “I need to take this call. We’ll discuss Angel staying with us when I’m done.”

Long legs carried him fluidly off the boat and up the dock, one arm swinging, head held high as he spoke into the box.

She had studied the way her brother Reel walked hundreds of times. He was the only two-legged Mer in their world, but walking was so different when Logan— Humans—did it. The lack of buoyancy on land made the flexion and extension of the muscles slightly different,

requiring the ability to balance between two shifting ap-pendages, the heel-toe rhythm, the contractions of his gluteus maximus…

“What happened to your tail, Angel? Is it going to grow back? Are you gonna stay here forever? Can I tell Logan that you’re a mermaid?” Michael bounced beside her, his whisper loud enough to carry on the warm sea breeze.

Angel guided Michael to a pull-down bench behind the captain’s chair, stepping on the lid of the catch box on the deck to make sure it was closed securely. No need for Logan to discover where she’d stowed away last night to escape Harry. Nor that Michael had seen her, helped her, and hid her. All under his father’s un-suspecting nose.

She tugged Logan’s soft shirt beneath her as she sat. She’d forgotten the nudity part of the transformation. Thank the gods Logan had thought so fast. “My tail will come back if any seawater touches it, so it’s very impor-tant that doesn’t happen around grown-ups, okay?”

Michael’s little chest puffed out as he sat on the cush-ion next to her. “I’m the only one who knows about you, aren’t I?”

Angel tapped the rim of his hat. “Yes, you are. And I wasn’t even supposed to let you know, so we definitely can’t tell Logan.”

“Are you gonna get in trouble?”

So much it wasn’t funny. Unless she could make this situation work to her advantage. “Not if we keep my tail a secret, okay?”

Yes, Rod, her brother the High Councilman, would be so proud of the lies.

Not.

Truth was, she wasn’t either, but what could she do? Harry had been all about getting a Mer meal last night, and she’d been the only one around. So she could either have climbed aboard the fishing boat, or…

Or nothing. Harry or the boat. There was no other choice.

“Okay, I won’t tell. I can keep a secret. Cross my heart and hope to spit.”

That comment didn’t make any more sense now than it had last night when she’d slipped on board just before dark. On the lookout for adult Humans, she hadn’t seen the child, but he’d certainly seen her.

One thing about kids: they were infinitely more ac-cepting than their adult counterparts—which was the basis of her plans for the Mer-Human Coalition her brother was forming. Michael had gone with the fact that she was a Mer and understood her need to stay out of sight of adults. He hadn’t turned her in then, so she had high hopes he wouldn’t do so now.

Not that she was condoning his lying to his father, but when it came to her life or a child’s honesty, she was going with her life.

Still, The Council could bring charges against her for this.

If only Hammerhead Harry had kept to the truce agreement with The Council, she could have conducted her research without any detection, let alone face-to-face contact. All she’d been trying to do was monitor Human fishing practices, but the stupid shark just had to show up. Then she’d had to unload everything to the bottom of the sea so she could have a chance of outswimming

him. There went all her notes, all her tools, and a lot of her self-respect.

But she now had the perfect opportunity to redeem herself and learn enough to earn the position of director of the Coalition she’d wanted in the first place.

All thanks to Harry—not that she’d ever tell him. “I’m sorry I caught you last night, Angel.” Michael

unwrapped a small pink, rectangular item he’d pulled from his pocket, then shoveled it into his mouth. “I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

She stopped herself from rubbing the spot just above her big toe where Michael’s fishhook had sliced into her fluke. First time in recorded history that a Human had actually hooked a Mer with a fishing line—and a child, no less. Without trying. She wouldn’t be spreading that story around any time soon.

And, fish! That hook had hurt. But, ironically, it had been what saved her. She wouldn’t have thought to use a boat to escape a shark otherwise.

“It’s okay, Michael. Mers are fast healers, and you did save my life. Harry wouldn’t come near me once you caught me.” Sharks were more afraid of Humans in hunting mode than of going hungry.

Michael let the colorful wrapper flutter to the deck. “What’s a Mer, Angel? I thought you were a mermaid.”

Angel picked up his refuse and held it out to him. “Here. You shouldn’t litter. It damages the planet.”

“But it’s only a piece of paper.” He chomped on the substance… ah, chewing gum.

Amelia the pelican was a huge fan of the stuff, which she found on any dock, beach umbrella, or other

surface where Humans congregated. Talk about dam-aging the planet.

“It’s only a little piece of paper from you, Michael, but what if everyone did the same thing? Then there would be a lot of paper.”

“Oh. Okay. I’ll throw it in the trash.” He took the paper from her and shoved it back in his pocket. That was a start.

“Good job.” She patted his knee, curbing the desire to study it. She had her own knees now and could examine them all she wanted. She ran a hand over them, then extended a leg. Flexed it. Wiggled the toes.

“So what’s a Mer?”

Right. Focus on the conversation. She’d have time enough later to study the workings of her legs.

“We are called Mers, Michael. Both male and fe¬male Mers. You Humans use the terms ‘mermaids’ and ‘mermen,’ not us.” As for the maid part, well, that hadn’t been true for selinos, but she wouldn’t be ex-plaining that.

“Mermen? There are mermen, too? Cool!” This time Michael forgot to whisper and—of course—his father was heading their way.

“Sssh!” Angel touched a finger to Michael’s lips. “Remember, it’s our secret.”

Michael followed Angel’s gaze. “Right. Our se¬cret. But can I tell Rocky?” The little boy was back to whispering.

“Who’s Rocky?”

“My pet raccoon. Well, he’s not really a pet. He’s a toy. I wanted a real pet, but Rainbow said no and I didn’t ask Logan yet.”

“Who’s Rainbow?”

Michael grabbed the rim of his cap and tugged it lower until half his face was hidden. “Oh, she’s my mom.”

So Logan was married. Darn. She wouldn’t have minded watching Human courting rituals. Oh well, beggars—and landed Mers—couldn’t be picky. She’d be happy with what she got.

Then Logan reached the boat and she was very happy.