Heads Or Tails (The Fairytail Saga) Read online

  In fact, Grace was nothing like the other mermaids he’d met. She lived to shop, sing and watch television. She deplored the healthy food the others favored and always had a sneaky beer or two when her brother wasn’t on duty. Lincoln felt like he should police her better, now that she was living in his house and partially his charge, but he saw no reason to do so. Westernized as she was, she was still twice as mature as any human eighteen year old girl he’d ever met.

  Until it came to her pursuit of him. Apparently infatuation made her blind to actual true love when it was before her, deaf to his rejections and immune to any sort of personal humiliation-just like every other teenager that had ever walked the earth, or swum off the edge of it.

  Lincoln suddenly realized that it had been a mistake to pause-now he’d cornered himself and accidentally checked her out. He crossed his arms as she came to a breathless halt before him and tried to look impatient.

  ‘What’s up Grace?’

  ‘You’re not calling me Lolita today?’ She already had her composure back. Even through the dark tint of her glasses, he could see that her eyes were dancing as merrily as always, unperturbed by his offhand greeting. She rested her hand on his forearm.‘That’s a shame. I kind of liked it.’

  ‘You like a lot of things you ought to ignore.’ Lincoln lifted his hand to scratch his neck again, breaking the contact between them. The moment he’d jokingly referred to her as Lolita the day before, he knew it had been a mistake. ‘Anyway, I’m sort of in a hurry. Ivyanne’s invited me up to her place so I’ll be spending the night. Try and stay out of trouble until then, okay?’

  Grace’s expression finally lost some of it’s animation. ‘Oh, that’s right….’ But then she crossed her own arms and smiled slyly. ‘I hear uncle Tristan’s going too. That should make for an interesting evening, huh?’

  Lincoln wanted to scowl at her, but what was the point? She saw the calculation as simple-She wanted him, her uncle wanted Ivyanne. Everyone would win apparently, if Lincoln could just let go…

  But it wasn’t that simple. When it came to Ivyanne, there was no wriggle room in his heart-no gap to invite Grace in. She was a princess. But Ivyanne Court was a queen. And she ruled his heart as wholly as she now ruled her kingdom.

  To be king, he had to rule hers equally. And he was determined to do just that-fate had brought him to this moment and he was never backing down from fate again. He’d made Tristan flee once, and he knew he could do it a second time-and he wasn’t going to let one startlingly pretty little temptress steer him off course. He’d been taken in by both Sherri and Lux-he’d never live with himself if he hurt Ivyanne again for the sake of a frustrated body!

  He stepped closer to Grace, reached out and stroked a glossy lock of her hair behind her ear. She froze, clearly clueless as to how he’d respond-just as he’d anticipated she would be.

  ‘Your bloodline, you and Tristan...you’re so beautiful, you know? So damn tempting…’ He spoke in the husky voice he knew had once driven Adele wild, lifting Grace’s glasses with the other hand so he could stare deeply into her bewildered gaze. A ripple of power rushed through him as he felt the temperature of her face rise against the back of his hand. There was no energy quite like mer to mer energy, and inexperienced little Grace was quaking from it. It was thrilling, and the first time Lincoln had ever flexed his siren energy. For the briefest of moments, he thought of how easy it would be to lean in and kiss her…

  ‘The pull to you...it’s so strong. So raw. You feel it don’t you?’

  Grace nodded gently, her expression captivated, her chin tilting invitingly.

  Lincoln smiled at her. ‘Well..Ivyanne and I are stronger.’ With that, he pinched her cheek as an uncle would and stepped back. ‘So both of you do your worst. I’m done worrying about it. And done with this conversation.’

  He turned before the gathering clouds behind her eyes could evolve into the full-blown storm they threatened. His stomach churned again, this time driven by guilt not apprehension, but he breathed through it, feeling the daggers on his back that he’d earned but knowing that hurting her was his only option. Polite ignorance hadn’t worked, nor had stern reprisals. Mermaids had thick skin, so the triton had to sink deep to have effect-he’d learned that much from Tristan.

  Lincoln thought of Ivyanne and smiled, needing the memory of her exquisite face to block the recollection of Grace’s hurt one. It had been a stressful three weeks, the early autumn chill in the air seeping into his bones and to his heart, but Ivyanne was like the sunshine, and in mere hours he would bask in it once more.

  And not even Tristan’s presence could diminish that.

  *

  After scaling the eight foot fence at the street corner of the property, Tristan dropped himself into some bushes and hid there, his eyes raking across the lawn, searching for the two Alsatians his uncle had special ordered for securing the boundary.

  He saw them eventually, fast asleep up on the driveway in front of the triple garage doors. Being careful to stay low to the ground and close to the stone wall, out of view from the security camera he saw perched amongst the trees, Tristan side-stepped his way up along the stone filled garden, staying behind the small manicured trees that dotted the wall.

  Soon enough, he’d made it to the spiked, powder-coated fence which separated the front yard from the back. He looked up and saw another camera on the corner of the roof, which was swinging very slowly-and automatically- from side to side. When it came his way, he crouched down behind the bush, waiting until it pointed away from him again to scale up the fence with a lot more difficulty than the first had offered. It was slippery, and the spikes were perilous, and getting over them as silently as he could took more time than he almost had.

  That’s a good one, he thought. If that bush wasn’t there, and the camera was a little faster... Tristan got onto the edge of the roof, behind the camera, and surveyed his surroundings. The roof seemed to go on and on, awning after awning, eave after eave, and the steel made a slight warping sound as he put his weight on it that he knew would echo through the massive house. That was good too-tiles would have muffled the noises, so at least he could cross out the possibility of someone accessing the house from above. He’d wondered why such an exquisite mansion had such standard roofing before, but now he understood-the house had been built to keep the occupants safe.

  Tristan stayed where he was, perched like a gargoyle, and peeked over the fence line. A sheer, twenty meter drop separated the front of the property from the swampy mangroves to the side-there was no way he would have made it if he’d tried sneaking up this side of the fence from the driveway. But since he’d managed to avoid the cameras on the long and overgrown drive, that comforted him little. Who cared about sneaking up the side, when entry through the front fence was as simple as he’d just proven?

  Tristan sighed and looked behind him, turning slowly that way, getting his bearings. All he could see was a small clothesline area and a few air-conditioning units, which were humming just loud enough to conceal the noise he was making. He swung himself off the gutter and landed on the pebbles, pressing his back to the wall and inching along until he could see the layered and landscaped gardens emerging, the bay glistening just beyond, a yacht he didn’t recognize bobbing in the private mooring beyond the pool.

  Nicer than it looked in the pictures. Tristan thought, whistling lowly under his breath, covering the next ten minutes much faster than the previous. He’d seen pictures of course, but they hadn’t done the property justice. Be careful Ivyanne-your blue blood is starting to shine through!

  He peeked his head around the corner, his mouth growing dry when he spotted Ivyanne on the opposite side of the pool, flat on her back on a canopied day bed, one arm slung over her eyes, the other dangling over the edge. She wore a pink and white checkered bikini cut in a retro style with a moulded top and boy-leg bottoms, making her look curvier than usual, her long blonde hair pulled up high on her head in a ponytail which flopped over
an oiled arm. She was, as always, a vision. All he wanted to do was reach out and stroke her stomach, maybe sneak up and nibble on her perfect toes.

  But then he saw that she wasn’t alone. Pintang was stretched out on a floating lounge on the pool in a daring one piece black suit and oversized Jackie O glasses, apparently fast asleep, while Saraya sat at a poolside cane lounger with her back to him, bent over a computer and flicking a lock of glossy brown hair out of her doe eyes. All three girls seemed to be lost in their own little worlds. If he was Ardhi, he could have snapped Saraya’s neck by then. That thought did not sit well with him.

  But then Tristan took a step out from behind the wall, and found himself staring down the barrel of a small black gun.

  ‘Now, you’re dead,’ the man said, cocking the trigger.

  2.

  Ivyanne was roused from the battered journal she’d been reading by gentle male laughter, and a few curse words from someone else who sounded less than gentle. She got up on her elbow, peered down her nose, and rolled her eyes when she saw Tristan standing with his hands up in a show of surrender that didn’t match his grin. Garridan held a gun to his face.

  ‘I’d frisk him Garridan,’ Ivyanne swung her legs off the lounger, putting the leather-bound book she’d found in Ardhi’s stashed belongings aside and sighed, wishing she could have slept longer before facing Tristan. But sleep had been a bothersome issue with her for some time now and she was doubting if she’d ever get enough again. Every time she closed her eyes, she was rewarded with an insta- nightmare. Either Ardhi’s fury or her mother’s lifeless face-she had her pick of nightmares now! ‘You never know what he’s got on him.’

  ‘I’ve got half a mind to shoot him instead,’ Garridan grumbled.

  Tristan swatted the gun out of his face and punched his uncle in the arm. ‘Don’t get mad at me, buddy. I should have been shot dead five minutes ago.’

  ‘You will be, if you try that again,’ Garridan growled, turning and walking towards Ivyanne, looking put-out as he holstered his weapon.

  ‘What’s going on?’ Saraya suddenly asked, closing her laptop and turning around. ‘Tristan? I didn’t hear you come in!’

  ‘That’s because I was ninja about it, gorgeous.’ Tristan said, ruffling her hair as he passed her by. ‘Hey Gar, what gave me away, anyway? The gutter?’

  ‘The stones under your feet,’ Garridan said sitting at the table. ‘The dogs can’t get back here and everyone on the premises is accounted for.’

  ‘Ahh,’ Tristan appeared to think this over. ‘Good then. But those dogs aren’t all they were cracked up to be-I made it all the way along the front boundary while they had doggy dreams.’

  Ivyanne realized what had happened-Tristan had snuck in, testing her security. And it looked like it had passed by the skin of it’s teeth. That was unsettling, as she’d paid top dollar for the very best at Garridan’s insistence.

  ‘The property isn’t secure?’ she asked, frowning, looking over at Pintang in the pool, who suddenly seemed exposed and vulnerable.

  ‘It is, but there are some weak points.’ Tristan pulled out a chair at the twelve seater timber outdoor table, throwing himself into it lazily, already at home despite the fact that he’d never been there before. His eyes swept her over momentarily, lingering near her belly button and Ivyanne instinctively stood taller, mentally cursing herself straight away for feeling the need to do so. But she couldn’t help it-Tristan looked incredible in ripped, faded jeans with a black studded belt, a white tightly fitted t-shirt and a black leather cuff around his wrist. He looked like he should be in a bar, not a CEO who’d just flown in after work, and every feminine wile she had demanded that she preen just a little-not so much that he’d notice, but enough that he’d take notice.

  ‘...which are weaker once you factor in Ardhi’s stealthiness.’ Tristan’s eyes rose back to her face, and he smiled gently, ‘Looking delicious by the way, your highness.’

  ‘Uh...thanks...you look…’ She swallowed and smiled nervously. ‘It’s good to see you.’

  Tristan winked.

  ‘Like what weaknesses?’ Garridan asked in a less annoyed and more curious tone. He was taking his job very seriously.

  Ivyanne relaxed slightly, glad that Garridan had taken the focus off her.

  ‘The cameras. If they picked me up, I sure couldn’t tell.’

  ‘Yeah I know,’ Garridan said. ‘They’re pretty useless until I get someone to man them full-time.’

  ‘And the hedges,’ Tristan went on.

  ‘I like those trees,’ Ivyanne protested.

  ‘They’re pretty, yes.’ Tristan smiled. ‘But you need to pull every second one out.’

  ‘Some greenie you are,’ she muttered.

  He ignored her. ‘Plus, I was able to hide behind the one in the corner until the camera swept past me.’ He stretched, yanking down on the hem of his white t-shirt as it began to rise, but not before Ivyanne caught a glimpse of his hardened stomach. She pretended to scratch her brow and looked away, feeling self conscious.

  Look at his scalp or his earlobes! She lectured herself, though her core temperature had already risen enough to heat her face. Avoid the eyes and stomach!

  ‘I came straight over the front gate too. You’ve got one camera on the vehicle entry, but you need another one spanning the entire line. Just a few improvements, and the front yard will be secure… although I’d suggest putting coke in the dog’s water, so they sleep less.’

  ‘They don’t sleep at night,’ Ivyanne pointed out loyally. ‘That’s the point.’

  ‘Oh, well that’s okay then. Just fix up the surveillance thing, and it’ll be sweet.’ He punched Garridan playfully on his upper arm again. ‘Luckily for you, Rambo here stopped me before I got too close to you ladies.’

  ‘Almost put a bullet in your head.’ Garridan griped. ‘Keep in mind that I’ll be twitchier next time.’

  ‘Good. I want her safe.’ Ivyanne felt Tristan’s eyes on her. ‘In fact if you want a second bodyguard, I volunteer for the night shift.’ His mouth curled up in one corner. ‘What do you think Ivyanne? Wouldn’t you feel safer with me in your bedroom at night?’

  ‘I would!’ Saraya piped up, grinning her cheeky smile-one that seemed reserved for Tristan. ‘Just sayin!’

  Ivyanne could feel the tell-tale blush heating her cheeks.‘I’m going to go get a drink,’ she said, and pushed off the chair, ignoring Tristan’s gentle laughter and trying not to check him out as she passed him by, thinking of how much easier her life would be if she just went on and gouged her eyes out.

  She climbed the short flight of flat slate steps near the yawning rear-entrance door and padded through the entertaining area, veering off into the opulent kitchen, which was still gleaming and carried the scent of fresh, designer paint. Ivyanne opened the fridge, allowing her eyes to graze over the contents, trying to get a grip on herself. She’d gotten through the full moon phase without calling either of her estranged lovers to her bed, so how hard could this one weekend be? Besides, Tristan wasn’t her only guest for the evening-Garridan had invited Lincoln too-and she’d never make it through the night with her good sense intact if she didn’t distance herself emotionally from both of them.

  ‘Can I get a sparkling water?’ Tristan’s voice suddenly said from behind her, and Ivyanne flinched, glancing back to look at him.

  ‘Regular or mineral?’ She asked, holding the fridge door open, letting the sub zero air mist over her over-heated skin.

  ‘Hmm…’ Tristan took hold of the fridge door near where her own hand was and leaned over her, his breath buffeting her ear, his body so close that she could feel his heat radiating over her neck, and all the way down to her thighs. He reached around her, his arm grazing hers, making her feel prickly and hot.

  ‘Not sure not sure…. I worked up a thirst with my sneaky entrance.’

  ‘You’re getting very sneaky,’ Ivyanne said softly. ‘Maybe I need a bodyguard just to keep you at bay.’


  ‘Not yet but it’s getting there.’ A finger traced down her spine, making her shiver. ‘I love you in pink, by the way.’ His hand closed around a bottle of Perrier, holding it before her. ‘Can I have this?’

  Ivyanne nodded mutely, too afraid to move in case her skin flushed again.

  ‘You have goosebumps…’ Tristan said softly, running his hand down her shoulder. ‘Better pick a drink quickly.’

  Ivyanne gasped as his touch sent a jolt of electricity through her. She closed the fridge door and stepped away from him, crossing her arms across her chest and backing up against the island bench in the centre of the domed kitchen.

  ‘Never mind. I can’t decide what I feel like.’

  ‘Really?’ Tristan cocked his head, advancing towards her. ‘I was under the impression that you’d decided, but simply delayed the celebration temporarily.’

  Ivyanne wanted to kick herself for backing herself into a corner. ‘I’m no more sure of anything now than I was two months ago when everything... came to light.’

  ‘Is that why you’ve invited us here?’ Tristan asked, his eyes hypnotically keeping her rooted to the spot as he drew closer. ‘To start the race again?’

  But Ivyanne shook her head. ‘No. Calling you both here was Garridan’s idea and I’m in the dark as to why. And as far as my heart goes...I’m afraid this is going to be a tortoise race.’ She lifted a shoulder. ‘Patience is going to trump speed.’

  Tristan cocked an eyebrow. ‘What are we talking about here, beautiful? A year? Ten?’

  ‘I won’t know until Ardhi is dead,’ she said softly. ‘There’s no point. I can’t bring a child into the world with anyone until I know that child will be safe. And I can’t single out anyone as the magnet for his hatred in the meantime.’