Dying Dreams (Book 1 of Dying Dreams Trilogy)

Dying Dreams

Book 1 of the Dying Dreams Series

By

Katherine Sadler

Copyright © 2014 by Katharine Sadler

All Rights Reserved.

*LIZA*

Liza almost turned around and went back up the beach when she saw the grey lump on the sand about 200 hundred feet ahead. The day had been so perfect, sunny and cool for late August, and she wanted it to go on being a perfect day. After recording data from the tide gauges, which indicated if the sea was still rising and how quickly, she wanted to finish collecting samples of seaweed for a friend’s research project and go home. She didn’t want to find a dead animal on the beach, especially not a dolphin.

Curiosity and a desire to help the beached animal propelled her forward. She studied the shift of sand beneath her feet as she walked, trying to think of anything but the corpse she was likely about to see. She thought instead about the results she’d recorded from the tidal gauges. She’d have to get them back to the lab to be sure, but it looked like the sea was still rising. Even with all of the restrictions on carbon output, the seas continued to rise, and the coastline of the planet continued to change. Ten years before the coast of North Carolina had been submerged all the way to Greenville where Liza walked the beach. She watched as the wind blew the sand off blacktop that had once been a road and just avoided tripping over a piece of driftwood. Two hundred yards to her left, a dilapidated house creaked in the breeze, a casualty of the more severe hurricane season.

As Liza picked her way down the beach, smiling at the VW bug that was rusted, covered in barnacles, and half-submerged just off the shoreline, she was glad to have only been fifteen when the world changed. She could appreciate the beauty of a rusted car that had become home to fish and had established its own little ecosystem, despite some people’s desire to pull it out and clean up the beach. She could appreciate the way the world continued on and wildlife found new niches, without so much of the sorrow for all the species that would never walk the earth again. She felt she was lucky to remember without being overly sentimental or nostalgic.

Those thoughts brought Liza to the gray lump on the beach and she forced herself to raise her gaze from her toes to the mass. She pulled out her cell phone to call the local animal rescue hotline, but almost dropped the phone when she saw a woman instead of a dolphin. Reflexively, she took a step back and shook her head, as though she could change what she saw. The woman remained, naked to the waist. Below the waist she had the tail of a fish. The woman’s skin was grey, her lips blue, and her eyes stared at the evening sky unseeing. Liza trembled and the world spun for a moment, but she took a deep breath and forced herself to move closer. Liza knelt in the sand next to her and pressed two fingers under her ear, but instead of a pulse, she found small gill-like openings. Feeling numb and a bit sick, Liza ignored the odd growths and continued to feel for a sign of life. The woman’s skin felt spongy and cold, and Liza found nothing to contradict what she knew in her gut: the woman was dead. With shaking fingers, Liza dialed 911 and told the operator what she had found and where she was.

“Hang up the phone.” Liza jumped and fell back on her butt. She looked up to see a man in jeans and a t-shirt. He was big, with muscles that bulged and sunglasses that reflected Liza’s face and the setting sun behind her. His angry expression made Liza take a step back and she was suddenly certain that he had killed the mermaid woman and was going to kill her next.

“Operator,” she said, her voice breathy with fear. “I’m sorry, there’s a man here with me and he—”

The man took the phone from her and put it to his ear. “Operator, this is agent Sloane Rice with the Department of Homeland Security, badge number 92359. The young lady who called you is intoxicated and confused. She found a large fish washed up on shore in an advanced state of decomposition, and mistook it for a person.”

“What the–” The man shook his head and pressed a hand firmly against her lips, grasping her chin with his thumb. Anger rushed up to replace her fear and she tried to yank his hand from her mouth, but he was strong, really, really strong and she couldn’t budge him. She stomped her foot and kicked at him, but arms wrapped around her and pulled her away before she could make contact. The man in sunglasses just continued calmly chatting with the 911 operator.

“Help!” she squawked, as soon as her mouth was free, but the muscle man closed the phone and gave her a smug smile. The arms released her and she spun around to come face to face with a short, stocky guy with a rough, pockmarked face. His smile was warm and his eyes kind, but she was still pissed. “What the hell?” she shouted. “There’s a dead woman there, and he’s telling them not to come out. We have to call them back.”

The stocky man put his hands on her shoulders and leaned in close like he was going to kiss her. “There’s no woman on the beach, it’s just a fish. It’s a very large, um, sailfish, that washed up on shore, and there is no cause for alarm.”

Her jaw dropped to her chest and she just stared at him for several long moments. “Seriously? Look asshole, I know fish and that on the beach is no fish. It’s certainly no sailfish.”

The stocky man’s eyes widened, then he shook his head and leaned in again. “It’s a woman in a costume and her death is related to a government operation. We will take it from here. She is not a mermaid. She is a woman in a costume.”

“A mermaid?” she said. “Of course she’s not…” Liza studied the man who was still holding her shoulders and noticed that he looked worried, a frown on his lips and a furrow between his bushy eyebrows. Something wasn’t right. She twisted out of his grip and dropped to the ground next to the woman. She ran her hands over the dead woman’s waist where the tail met her flat stomach and found no waistband or elastic. The scales felt like real fish scales, instead of plastic. She was jerked to her feet by a firm hand.

“Hey, you can’t just grab me like that,” Liza yelled. She had no idea what rights government agents had in that sort of situation, but Agent Rice frightened her and she’d do what she could to get away from him. He took off his sunglasses and gave her a long, slow appraisal she was sure was meant to inspire fear, but only made her forget that he was scary and notice how intense his stormy grey eyes were. The hard set of his mouth only drew her attention to his full, plush lips. The kind of lips that made her forget the dead woman, the sand under her feet, and the roar of the ocean. She stopped fighting him and he dropped her like her skin was hot. The moment he released her, her brain started working again. “I don’t know what’s going on her, but I’m not walking away and leaving you with a dead woman that may or may not be a mermaid, until I’m sure you can be trusted.”

“What the hell did you tell her, Fulsom?” The man demanded, but some of his earlier swagger had faded. He looked worried, as well as angry.

The stocky man, Fulsom, gaped at her for a moment. Then his jaw twitched and his eyes hardened. “It’s not me. It’s not working on her, elf stain.”

Agent Rice shook his head. “You did it again, didn’t you? How many times do I have to tell you…” He looked at Liza, like he’d forgotten she was there. “Shit, this is another royal cluster.” He turned to face her and she almost got lost in those eyes again, before she remembered he was a crazy man claiming to be a federal agent. “Look,” he said. “I know she looks strange, but—”

“I want to see some ID,” Liza said.

That stopped him. His angry, cocky expression slipped and she wanted to laugh. This was all just so ridiculous and terrifying and ridiculous. “What?”

“I.D. You claim to be a government agent, well, I want proof.”

Agent Rice shook his head, muttering something unintelligible, and reached into his back pocket. Liza took the chance to drop to her knees and run her hands over the dead woman’s belly again. She should have been wigged out, but her need to know overpowered the ick factor of touching a dead body. Liza only managed to confirm that the woman’s skin was fused with the fish scales before she was pulled to her feet again.

Liza wouldn’t be able to tell for sure that it wasn’t just a costume without getting the body into a lab, and she knew that wasn’t going to happen.
It’s not possible
she told herself, as Rice shoved a badge in her face, if mermaids existed, someone would have found them. She took the badge and studied it. She didn’t have a lot of experience with government badges, but it looked real and she couldn’t imagine the woman’s killer having the foresight to manufacture a fake badge in case someone found her body. Still, if he was a government agent, why did his buddy say so firmly that the woman wasn’t a mermaid? Something felt off, but she was a scientist and she… still if it was just a costume why did she need gills? That seemed a bit over the top.

“Why is she dressed as a mermaid?” Liza asked, handing the badge back.

“That is classified,” Rice said, without looking at Liza. Interesting. Since when was dressing up in a mermaid costume a matter of national security?

“Now, I need to see some ID from you,” Rice said.

Liza gave him her driver’s license without any argument. He studied her license and handed it back, without writing anything down or sliding it through any sort of device. Liza thought that was strange, but liked that he’d have no record of her.

“Look,” Rice said, dropping his sunglasses over his eyes. “Enjoy the rest of your vacation and forget what you’ve seen here today. I’ll give you a voucher for a free dinner at the Lobster Palace for your trouble and discomfort.” He pulled out his wallet and handed her two slips of paper.

“Ten,” she said.

Rice raised his eyebrows over his sunglasses and his face stilled. “What?”

“I think I need ten vouchers for dinner. I have a large family.”

Rice frowned, but he pulled a cell phone out of his back pocket and made a call. While he talked on the phone and recited a credit card number, they all stood over a dead body. Rice and Fulsom seemed not to even notice the woman on the ground and that made Liza like them less. Who would take care of her? It was a stupid thing to think when she was already dead, but Liza felt it so strongly that tears burned her eyes. As soon as Rice took his eyes off Liza, she dropped to the ground next to the body. Fulsom was on her in an instant and dragged her up, but not before she managed to snag a scale and hair sample and hold onto them, clenched in her fist.

“Those ten vouchers cost me more than you make in a week, Miss Simmons,” Rice said, a sneer in his tone. “And I expect to be reimbursed if I hear even the hint of a rumor about a mermaid washing up on shore.”

Liza had gotten what she wanted so she smiled and nodded and ignored the insult about her income. Still, she wondered at Rice so obviously bribing her to keep her mouth shut. What kind of government agent was he? “Would you mind giving me your business card in case I have any problems?”

“If you have any problems, we’ll find you.” He took her by the elbow and led her up the beach, to a public access point. When they got to the boardwalk that led back to the street between two fragile dunes, he released her and leaned in to whisper in her ear, his breath hot against her skin. “Leave this alone, Miss Simmons. Trust me when I say you don’t want to see me again and, if you don’t keep this quiet, I’ll be the least of your problems.”

Problem was, with him standing so close, radiating heat, she was pretty sure she wouldn’t mind seeing him again. He’d taken off his sunglasses to make his point and she felt herself leaning closer to get a better look at those eyes that reminded her so much of the sea. He might be an asshole, but she suddenly found herself fisting her hands to stop from reaching out, grabbing his face, and pulling him in for a kiss. Liza tended toward the impulsive, but never before had every instinct she’d possessed so desperately wanted a man. She lifted her head to check him out one last time, but he was gone, his large bulk moving back to his partner and the body gracefully. She watched him for a minute, until she noticed his partner smirking at her like he knew exactly what she’d like to do to Rice. She turned away and headed to the street, her head spinning.

*SLOANE*

“What the hell was that?” Sloane asked his partner, who was bagging the mermaid.

Fulsom zipped the bag, which was enchanted to resemble a briefcase when it was sealed, and stood to look in the direction Liza had gone. “That was one very stubborn woman with the cutest ass I’ve seen in months.”

Sloane felt his chest tighten and an unexplained anger pulsed through him at the thought of Fulsom looking at any part of Liza. He tried to focus on the case. “I’m talking about you using the word mermaid when you were supposed to be convincing her it was a fish.”