Mermaid Tails Read online

  Table of Contents

  Mermaid Tails

  Book Details

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  About the Author

  MERMAID TAILS

  SASHA L. MILLER

  Giato is a simple dragon. All he wants is to run his shop selling spell components and dote on his hoard of fish. Then someone starts messing with his fish, sending them into a frenzy every day, and it's only a matter of time before they get hurt. But when he finally catches the jerk, he doesn't expect Mihail: beautiful, cursed, and utterly compelling.

  Mermaid Tales

  By Sasha L. Miller

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner without written permission of the publisher, except for the purpose of reviews.

  Edited by Samantha M. Derr

  Cover designed by Megan Derr

  This book is a work of fiction and all names, characters, places, and incidents are fictional or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual people, places, or events is coincidental.

  First Edition September 2018

  Copyright © 2018 by Sasha L. Miller

  Printed in the United States of America

  CHAPTER ONE

  Giato was stalking his own shop. Ostensibly, he was shopping for wine across the street at the lovely Chara's shop, but he was doing less shopping and more staring out the front windows, trying to catch sight of the person who kept screwing with his fish. Chara had said they were tall, always wrapped in a ragged cloak, and that she'd caught a glimpse of long hair once when the wind had blown right.

  None of which was helpful because it was still chilly this spring, and everyone wore cloaks with the hoods up to help fight off the biting wind that came off the lake. With luck, though, the jerk would give themselves away. Giato scowled, glancing over at the clock above the counter at the back. It was just before ten, so the jerk should be showing up soon. Every damn day for the last month, near ten o'clock, someone walked by Giato's shop and stirred up all of his expensive, beautiful fish. They flocked to the window, and all but tried to kill themselves to get out of the tank for whoever kept bewitching them.

  The jerk was lucky none of them had been hurt so far. If they had...

  As if on cue, his fish started swarming toward the front of the shop. Giato tensed, ignoring Chara's soft laughter—she thought the whole thing hilarious—and scanned the street.

  He was in luck. There was only one person on the street anywhere near his shop. As Chara had said, they were tall, wrapped in a thin cloak that had seen better days, with the hood pulled up. One bare, gloveless hand clutched at the front of the cloak, holding the hood closed. Who didn't wear gloves out?

  Someone who was casting strange spells on his fish.

  Giato tamped down his initial urge to storm from the shop. If he scared the jerk off, he'd never get answers. Pulling up his own hood, he waved when Chara called out a goodbye and slipped from her store quietly. The jerk was loitering, watching his fish, and Giato slip-slid through the slush, moving as quietly as he could.

  Not quietly enough, though, as his quarry heard him coming. Without turning to look at Giato, the jerk started walking again, the fish swarming to follow his movement. Giato dismissed the idea of further stealth, sprinting the last few steps to grab the asshole by the arm.

  "Hey! What do you think you're doing?" Giato demanded. He yanked the person around—and was temporarily lost for words. The man was the most beautiful person he'd seen in an age, which was saying something, because he saw plenty of people every day. His grip slacked, and the man jerked away, eyes wide and terrified. He scrambled away from Giato, but slipped in the slush, falling to the ground with a wet squelch. "Er. Sorry."

  The hood had fallen away, revealing long dark hair that had a strange blue tint to it. The man's eyes were a vibrant turquoise. Not human, Giato would bet his fish on that, but he wasn't dragon or fairy or anything else that Giato had run into before. Giato glanced at his shop—the fish were still all at the front of the tank that was positioned in the front window, but they didn't seem as frantic as they had been moments before.

  "Sorry," Giato repeated, holding out a hand. "I didn't mean to startle you."

  The man shook his head, ignoring Giato's hand as he stood. He glanced at the fish, looking inexplicably sad, and then turned away. No, that wasn't going to happen. Not until Giato got an explanation.

  "Hey," Giato said, moving to get in the man's away again. "Come in, warm up, maybe borrow one of my cloaks. You shouldn't be walking about all wet, not in this weather."

  The man shook his head, but Giato didn't let that stop him. He could be pushy if he needed to, though obviously he needed to tread more carefully. He wrapped an arm around the man's shoulders, guiding him toward the building. The man dragged his feet, but after a second let Giato guide him into the building. The fish seemed thrilled by that—they all followed along as Giato brought the man closer to the building. The more Giato watched them, the clearer it became that the man wasn't casting something on them. Or if he had, the spell was long-acting and not currently being cast.

  The shop was warm, almost to the point of being unbearably hot. The tanks needed the warmth, and no one liked to shop in a cold building. Giato made his living—and supported his fish collection—selling books on magic and herbal spell components. Most of the later were temperamental enough that Giato wanted the shop warm anyway.

  Giato left the sign declaring he was away on a break up on the door and removed his cloak, hanging it on the rack by the door. He scraped the slush off his boots as well as he could and gestured for his unenthused guest to do the same. "Come on, hang your cloak by the fire." He jerked a thumb toward the fire. His own cloak would dry in the warmth of the shop before he had to next go out, but no doubt the man would be leaving more quickly.

  "I'm Giato," Giato said, recalling what few manners he had left. "What's your name?"

  The man looked at him, frowning. He lifted his chin and tapped two fingers against the front of his throat. Giato stared for a moment before it clicked.

  "Mute?" Giato asked. The man nodded. Instead of walking over to the fire, he drifted closer to the fish tank in the window. It was Giato's favorite. Not that he was supposed to have favorites, but the saltwater tank had taken him the longest and the most money to set up and fill. They were all flashy and brilliant, beautiful and playful, and he wanted ten more tanks just like it. "Can you write?"

  The man rocked his hand back and forth in a wavering motion that seemed to say, 'sort of,' and Giato immediately went to go get some paper. He fetched it from the little desk on the left side of the shop, which was nestled in the middle of his six fish tanks. The right side of the shop was given over to his wares, neatly organized in jars and pouches, the books filling three bookcases along the back wall.

  He lived upstairs, close to his tanks, and he wouldn't admit the number of times he'd slept downstairs, basking in the glow and presence of his fish.

  "Here," Giato said, turning. The man was standing next to the saltwater tank, one hand hovering near the glass. The fish were crowding near, and they liked him. Giato stared, wondering again just what the man was that he was so enthralling to the fish. Just the ocean fish, though; his freshwater fish didn't seem to care that the man was nearby. "What's your name?"

  The man turned, his eyes sad again. He shrugged, barely glancing at the paper Giato held out. He pointed to the door and waved at Giato, clearly intended to leave.

  "At least give me your name, please," Giato said. He almost, almost went to block the man's exit, but someth
ing told him that was a bad idea. "Please."

  The man hesitated but nodded, taking the pencil and paper Giato held out. He walked over to the nearest wall and braced the paper against it, painstakingly scratching out characters. He handed it back to Giato, who glanced down. The writing was awkward and childish, like the man had only barely started to learn it.

  Mihail. It suited him.

  "It's a pleasure, Mihail," Giato said. He smiled, offering a hand. Mihail tentatively took it, and Giato gave it a brisk shake. Mihail's hand was freezing cold, but given that he had no gloves, that wasn't surprising. "Come back and see the fish any time. They seem to like you."

  Mihail smiled at that, the sadness in his eyes almost disappearing. He looked at the tank again, then turned back to face Giato, mouthing, thank you.

  "You're welcome," Giato said. He let go of Mihail's hand, unsurprised when Mihail almost immediately grabbed his cloak and headed for the door. Giato let him go, staring after him. That was not how he'd expected that to go. Humming softly, Giato waited until he saw Mihail disappear down the street, then went to remove the sign on the door proclaiming him closed.

  *~*~*

  "No, no, no, and...yes, this one, but don't expect more than half a gold for it," Giato said, tapping the cover of the last book Panos had brought him.

  "Aw, come on, Giato," Panos said. He gestured to the other three books, which were mostly falling apart and on subjects that were odd and unusual. "Someone would want these. You get a lot of weird types in here."

  "No one in the history of ever has asked me for a book on the mating habits of wyverns, Panos," Giato said. "Half a crown for the oceanography book, and you know I'm only buying that because I have an interest."

  Panos grimaced and grumbled but collected the other three books. "Fine, fine. Maybe they'll make good kindling."

  Giato snorted. The state those books were in, the smoke from them might poison Panos if he tried to burn them. "Next time bring me better books or don't come at all."

  "Pickings have been slim," Panos said. He shrugged, not looking thrilled as he stuffed the books into his rucksack. "I couldn't make it out to Mossly—the roads were too icy. I'm headed back out once things melt down a little more."

  Giato grunted. That was a fair excuse. Traveling anywhere in the winter was a pain, let alone trying to traverse the mountains on foot. Giato could manage it flying when he had to, and only when there were no storms or major headwinds going. He passed Panos half a gold coin and set the book down on the edge of his desk. He'd read it once he got his work done, even if he wanted to pull it open and page through it more thoroughly.

  The bell on the door rang softly, and Giato looked up, smiling when he saw Mihail. The fish were calmer now that he was coming regularly, though Giato was still no closer to figuring out what Mihail was. It was rude to ask, but Giato was on the verge of it, barely able to contain his curiosity. Surely he could be excused. Giato was easy to figure out, given his dragon scales were evident in every one of his shifted forms. Mihail, with his blue-black hair, pale skin and luminous eyes...well, he passed for human, except for the otherworldly vibe he gave off and the way the fish flocked to him.

  "I'm making tea," Giato said, not waiting for a response. Mihail cast him a smile over his shoulder and settled into the chair Giato had put right by the ocean fish tank for him. He still wore his cloak, but Giato didn't take that personally. From what he could tell, Mihail was always cold. He needed more solid meals and someone to dress him more warmly.

  Giato shoved those thoughts aside as he disappeared into the back room. He frowned worriedly as he made tea, wishing again he knew what Mihail was. He suspected an ocean creature, and he wondered if that was the only reason he was interested in getting to know Mihail better. He already fixated on fish; he didn't want to fixate on Mihail. No one deserved to be liked for what they were, rather than who they were.

  Tea. He'd make Mihail tea, and then maybe pester him with a question or two before getting back to work. Mihail wasn't averse to answering questions, even if it was difficult for him to write, and his spelling was atrocious.

  But what to ask today? Giato considered that as he fixed the pot of tea, arranging it with several crackers and cookies. His usual midday snack, though he'd taken to adding more savory options when he'd realized Mihail didn't care much for sweets. His loss. Giato was more than happy to take on the burden of eating them all.

  He'd ask how long Mihail had been in town. That was a good one. It was about Mihail, and maybe would give some insight as to why he was in Caelfall as well. It also wasn't too personal. Mihail tended to shy away from those questions, though Giato had gotten Mihail to admit he liked the warmer weather of the coast a few hours south.

  Returning to the shop, Giato set the tray down on the edge of his desk and fixed them both cups of tea. Mihail's was plain, no sugar, and Giato added three spoonfuls of sugar to his own. Adding a few of the sage crackers to the rim of the cup, he brought Mihail's over to his...and realized Mihail was reading his new book.

  "Thief," Giato accused lightheartedly. Mihail glanced up, looking alarmed, and Giato held out the cup of tea. "I haven't even gotten to look at that one."

  Grimacing, Mihail shut the book and held it up. Giato shook his head. "Just tell me if it's any good. And try not to spill your tea on it."

  Mihail nodded, giving him a small smile that made his eyes light up. He took the cup of tea Giato had made for him, mouthing thank you and immediately devouring one of the crackers. Giato grinned and went back to his desk. He'd ask Mihail something later, before he left. Leaving Mihail to his reading, Giato returned to his desk and tucked into his sweets. He occasionally took a sip of tea as he added the new book to his ledger and recorded the transactions he'd done that day.

  A few more customers came and went, and another vendor that Giato promptly threw out for trying to sell him horrid ingredients like fairy wings and wyvern scales. Fake, thankfully, or Giato would have been reporting him. At least he hadn't been stupid enough to try and sell Giato fake dragon scales. That idiot had gotten laughed at for months, and Giato was fairly certain he'd left town after that incident.

  Why the idiot vendors kept coming to him, Giato didn't know. Giato refused to even consider buying real versions of such ingredients. There was no ethical way to source them, and they were only useful in very select spells. Mostly only the occasional healing spell and spells that were meant to do harm to the shifter they'd come from. Giato had grown up with stories of dragons who'd given up their scales for one reason or another and had been cursed via the scales. Giato wasn't going to perpetuate that.

  Yawning, Giato reached for his cup of tea and realized it was empty. Outside was dark; night had fallen at some point after Giato had kicked out the idiot vendor. He was surprised Mihail was still there. He typically only stayed an hour or two. Turning, Giato grinned to find that Mihail had fallen asleep at some point. It had to have been after the idiot vendor had shown up, since he'd been awake then. He had seemed tired, but Giato had chalked that up to a late afternoon slump.

  Giato stood up and collected the remnants of the tea tray. Mihail had polished off the crackers, and Giato made a note to pick up more sage crackers the next time he went out. Chara usually had some; she stocked a variety of crackers and other bits of savory nonsense to drink with her wine. He brought the tray back into the kitchen and debated making dinner, but he didn't want to make something Mihail wouldn't like, and he didn't want to presume Mihail would be comfortable staying for dinner.

  Instead, he nicked a few more cookies and brought them back out to the front. He ate them as he tidied up the shop, stealing frequent glances over at Mihail. His head rested against the back of the chair, his feet were tucked up next to him, his boots on the floor. He looked young and vulnerable in sleep, his mouth gaping open slightly and his dark blue-black hair tumbling around his face.

  Giato turned away, locking the door and debating whether to put off cleaning up the mess t
hat had been tracked in. Better to take care of it now, even if it ran the chance of waking Mihail. It took him minutes to fill a bucket with water and drag it out to the front. He started mopping, wishing spring would come faster so there was less mess to clean up each day. Of course, spring and summer brought more customers, so he wasn't winning in the game of effort anyway.

  Something went thump behind him, and Giato turned to find Mihail on his feet, wide-eyed and alarmed. The thump had been the book falling to the floor, and Mihail immediately scooped it up, turning it over worriedly. It seemed all right, and Giato set the mop against the closest wall, directing all his attention to Mihail.

  "All right there?" Giato asked.

  Mihail nodded, pulling his cloak up. Time for him to leave, then, and Giato stifled his disappointment. He hadn't even gotten to ask a question today. Mihail waved, heading toward the door, and mouthed, sorry at him, like he knew Giato had wanted him to stay.

  "Be careful walking, and keep bundled," Giato said, earning a soft smile before Mihail unlocked the door and was out, letting in a fresh blast of cold air. The door slammed shut, leaving him alone in the shop.

  Giato sighed, crossing the room to lock the door behind Mihail. There was always tomorrow. Or the next day, whenever Mihail showed up to enjoy the fish again.

  CHAPTER TWO

  Giato looked up as the door chimed. He tamped down his disappointment and smiled at the customer who had entered the shop. It was ridiculous to think Mihail would continue to show up every day forever. He hadn't been visiting that long, and he had his own life outside of Giato's little shop.

  That Giato had never asked much about it was Giato's fault, and probably for the best. He didn't need to be stalking Mihail. Mihail would turn up if and when he wanted to.

  Turning his attention to the customer, Giato focused on selling several herbs for a spell to keep bugs out of their house. That didn't take nearly enough time or attention, and then Giato was alone in the shop again. Sighing, he walked over to his tanks and surveyed his fish.