Page 76 of Don’t Hook the Merman

Luke forced his tense muscles to relax as he raised his voice in false cheer. “Look, Colby, we get to go out on a boat! Isn’t that fun?”

The scientist narrowed his eyes at Luke. “Stop talking.”

Luke sucked in a breath, biting back a scream as he sat on the boat’s small metal bench and placed Colby on his lap. When he spoke, he kept his voice level. “Which would you rather have: me talking or a wailing toddler on your boat?”

The scientist frowned but said nothing in rebuttal, only climbed in after them. He sat facing Luke and Colby and made no move to push the boat out further in the water just yet. He nodded to the motor behind Luke. “You’ll steer when it’s time.”

Luke wanted to protest—he needed both arms around his son—but he knew better at this point. He settled Colby more firmly between his legs on the small bench. “Stay right here, okay, bud? You can look for fishes when we get in the water, but stay with Dada.”

Colby gave him a miserable look, but he didn’t start crying. Not yet. “Doh-phin?” he asked instead.

Luke mustered up a smile, hoping it somehow reached his eyes convincingly. “Maybe if we’re lucky. Keep an eye out, okay?”

The scientist only watched them with flat, dead eyes, the gun on his lap.

John, Luke suddenly remembered. His name had been in the text with the address: John something or other.

What an ordinary name for such an impressive creep.

“What now?” Luke asked.

John stared back at him, eyes still blank, and Luke didn’t know if he would answer at first. “We wait.”

Luke nodded, even as his stomach clenched with worry. For now, Colby was peering out at the water, trying to catch sight of his “doh-phin.” But how long would he stay calm on a freezing boat with no entertainment? And how long would John tolerate a cranky, crying toddler?

If he tried to toss Colby overboard when they were out on the water, Luke would take him down. Luke might get shot in the process, but he would pray to all that was holy that he could at least get the boat to shore before meeting his maker. Someone would find Colby on the beach. He had to believe that.

For now, they waited. Luke passed the time with a stream of commentary for Colby, mixed in with nursery rhymes his son couldn’t resist. All the while, Luke was imagining the many, many ways Syrus could hurt this man holding them captive.

Luke had never been violent in nature, but the safety of his son was on the line now. And all so this creep could use Syrus again, abuse him in new ways. Syrus had told Luke a little the night before, about how this John character wanted to study his pod, had asked Syrus to lead him to them. The audacity to think Syrus would help him after what he’d been a part of.

I hope he rips your face off your skull, Luke thought, staring back at the man as Colby made an itsy-bitsy spider with his fingers. I hope he bites through your wrist and you bleed out slowly in the water with no one to save you. I hope he sings a song that convinces you to turn your gun back on yourself.

It was like something horrible and monstrous was waking up inside him, and he couldn’t even bring himself to care that he might never get it back to sleep.

Luke didn’t know how much time passed before they saw a man making his way down the path. Not just any man, of course. Luke would know him anywhere.

Apparently so would Colby.

“Sy-wus!”

“Yes, that’s him,” Luke murmured, his eyes burning again as tears threatened to fall. “He’s here. He came.”

As Syrus approached, Luke caught the deadly expression on his face, one that promised violence beyond mortal imagination. Luke had never seen him look like that, not even when Syrus had thought vampires were a threat that day in Coastal Crumbs.

The boat teetered as the scientist stepped back to sit next to Luke, and then a gun was being jammed into Luke’s forehead.

For just a moment, Luke let his eyes fall closed in sweet relief. The gun was pointed at him, not his son. That gave them a chance. Even if John made good on his threat, even if Luke didn’t make it through this, Syrus would get Colby out. Luke knew it in his very bones.

Syrus had come, and he would do what he’d always promised: he’d protect them. He’d protect Luke and his son. Luke’s heart. His family.

26

SYRUS

Syrus didn’t make it halfway down the sandy shore before the dead man in the boat—the one who might have been called a scientist before he’d sealed his fate by taking what he had no right to—called to him.

“Don’t speak! Not now. Not after you turn. Not at all. If you even open your mouth, I’ll shoot him.”