The desert was tinged with blood. Bodies of armed men were scattered across the ground, their limbs and other body parts boring bullet holes. As Mr. Samuels was escorted out of the beige building, he saw the product of the gunshots he'd heard seconds before the capture of Mr. Donovan. Tears welled in his eyes as he saw the so called man who'd tortured him for weeks being forced into a straight jacket then finally knocked unconscious and stuffed inside a black vehicle.
Mr. Samuels was scarcely able to speak. He was simply too shocked by how quickly his escape, or his salvation, happened.
"Right this way, sir," a young man in a black suit gestured towards a car. "Mr. Holmes is expecting you."
Christopher Samuels looked at the young man in utter gratefulness for a moment before finally getting into the car. For the first time in what seemed like forever, he felt warmth. He'd been cooped up in such a dry, frozen place that he couldn't help but weep in joy upon heat touching his skin. A new thought fueled another wave of tears: he'll finally be able to see his daughter. He escaped. This was real.
Mr. Samuels was afraid that if he'd had to stay as a plaything of that foul mongrel for another hour, he'd go insane and lose all hope. But this was real. It was over.
A small smile broke through and eventually, as the car sped far from that wretched place, evolved into a familiar grin.
"Thank you," he kept repeating. "Thank you."
-
He saw them on the yacht but only for a brief moment. They were right over Scylla. It was him again; the human boy who rushed to Melabee's side. It didn't take long for Trenton to decide that he disliked Xander. In fact the second he started for Melabee that day on the beach, Trenton's heart loathed him.
It had been almost forty-eight hours since Trenton last spoke to Melabee and it had been almost forty-eight hours of Melabee alone occupying his thoughts. He saw her face everywhere. Her deep brown eyes looking gently into his. He recalled the warmth of her skin under his cold touch and how she didn't recoil from it. He remembered their closeness and how much he needed it back.
However, crossing the veil became a feat ever since his row with his father. He started noticing guards everywhere he went. The more he got closer to the veil, the more threatening they looked. He knew he couldn't risk being followed back to Melabee. Who knew what they would do? The thought evoked an intense urge to protect Melabee and keep her safe at all times.
He also needed to see her. So he desperately thought of a plan to lose the pesky guards. The more he thought, the more violent his plan became. As he saw it, the only way to escape them was to fight them and physically disable them to follow, at least temporarily.
The guards, as he knew, didn't have the best physique. Trenton was more powerful. The problem was that he was outnumbered. Divide and conquer seemed the solution.
And so Trenton, with the help of some of his mermaid admirers, separated the guards and attacked swiftly and silently as to not alert the other guards. He knew they wouldn't stay unconscious for long. The minute he was free of the guards, he bolted for the veil. As he reached the surface, however, he saw Melabee standing on a boat, talking to that human boy.
Trenton watched them both and momentarily forgot about the guards. A deep scowl etched on his face as that human suddenly delivered a blow to the boat, causing Melabee to freeze in fright. Though the fearful expression vanished in seconds, Trenton hated the thought of that human boy being around Melabee. He watched his every movement intensely, his glare daring the boy to give another violent kick.
See what I'll do to you, thought Trenton menacingly.
Merpeople, in truth, possessed other abilities than what Trenton had described to Melabee. He didn't want to scare her so he decided they were better left unsaid.
The merfolk were excellent hunters, not just of underwater prey but also of anything that was close to the sea. They could easily leap out a great distance and snatch their target. He thought that Melabee would think him barbaric if he'd told her.
His eyes softened as he watched Melabee wrap herself with a blanket. He was reminded of the thing she wore- the snuggie as she'd called it. He smiled at the thought. Then snapped his attention back to the boy. He seemed calmer now but that look on his face annoyed Trenton. Melabee wasn't safe around that human.
Before he could think of how to deal with Xander, Trenton was grabbed from behind and wrestled by three guards back under to Scylla.
"Let go of me!" he shouted. The guards didn't release their hold on him until he was brought in front of the King.
"You tried to escape," the King stated intimidatingly. Trenton snatched his arms free from the guards' grip and glowered at his father.
"I do not appreciate being babysat," he hissed, his turquoise eyes flashing with every syllable.
"It's for your own good!" the King yelled. "You must stay under the protection of this veil at all times!"
"I don't need to be protected!"
"You don't realize what I'm doing for you," the King spoke, staring at his son intensely. "Ever since your mother-" the King stopped and swallowed a lump in his throat. His turquoise eyes grew duller. "Ever since that day, you and the entire kingdom have needed protection. Those humans!" he spat. "You can't comprehend the threat they pose and the wickedness they can do!"
Trenton took a moment to calm himself. He understood his father's point of view but he also now understood the humans' side. "Father, they aren't all wicked."
"How would you know!"
"I-" Trenton stopped before he made a mistake. He couldn't risk letting his father know about Melabee. "I just know."
The King stared strangely at the young prince.
"How would you know?" he asked again, this time slowly. He uttered the question emphatically. He was looking for a specific answer- an answer he may already have guessed.
Trenton faltered to keep his composure for a split second. He glared back. "Fine. I will no longer go beyond the veil."
Without another word, Trenton left his father. When the guards made a move to follow him, the King held up his hand.
"No," he ordered. "Let him be." He sat back on his throne, his face pensive.
"Let my son be," he repeated after a moment, more to himself. "I will take care of him."
