Narcotize: House of Mermaids Read online

  NARCOTIZE: HOUSE OF MERMAIDS

  TB MANN

  HEART SISTERS PUBLISHING INC

  CONTENTS

  Blurb

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  About the Author

  Also by TB Mann

  Wicked Reform School

  Copyright © 2020 by Mann TB

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  ISBN (Ebook)

  Cover design by Silviya Yordanova of DARK IMAGINARIUM Art

  Edited by Bookends Editing

  Printed in Canada

  Published by Heart Sisters Publishing Inc

  Visit at: www.tbmann.com

  Disclaimer

  This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

  To my loving family who suffered through my grumblings, who received grunts instead of conversation, and who supported me (and our local food eateries) while I wrote this.

  BLURB

  What happens when doing good also requires becoming evil?

  Celestia, first born daughter of mermaid royalty, was ripped away from her loving mother. The conch shell birthmark on her shoulder guaranteed that. But it’s her power and dark family secret that keeps her an outcast.

  A sentence to the Wicked Reform School is both a blessing and a curse even if the only way out is to graduate or die. Not great odds for someone who hates being wicked.

  When an escape attempt goes wrong, Noah and Liam, two humans, rescue her. Or at least she thought they were human. Could everything she knows be wrong?

  Not wanting her to be alone, Noah and Liam enlist their undercover partners, Jaxyten and Kairo to keep an eye on her. Alliances are key to survival. And the key to destruction.

  To survive, the game must be played. If not, death hangs in the balance.

  Together the five are ready to turn the world upside down and buck the system. But first they need to stay alive.

  CHAPTER ONE

  CELESTIA

  THE STENCH of mud and rotting flesh assaulted my nose. No matter how I sat it was all I could smell. It overrode the scent of the ocean and tropical flowers that usually clung to me. Despite that, I leaned forward, wrapping the few loose strands of my long, pink-tinged white hair around my face in the vain hope of breathing some slightly fresher air.

  Nope.

  So long as I sat wedged between the twin hulking ogres that took up most of the backseat of the oversized limo I rode in, it would be all I could smell.

  A limo.

  What a laugh. As if I was some sort of celebrity on my way to a posh retreat instead of a convicted criminal on my way to Wicked Reform School. My last chance to “get with the program” as Lady Nerissa put it.

  I needed some space.

  An elbow into the side of Ogre number one on my left did nothing but send a tingling sensation like being shocked by an electric eel down my arm, making my hand numb. Whatever I did—and I can tell you I tried just about everything I could—had neither of them giving me an inch of breathing room. Under normal circumstances, having two giant hulks of manliness sitting pressed up against my sides would have produced a different feeling in me, but not even the size of their obvious packages on display in their tight pants could overcome the smell. If it had, the last few hours of relative freedom would have been spent in far more pleasurable activity than trying to catch a sniff of the revitalizing canned salt air that the other occupants in the back of the limo held up to their noses.

  For the previous year, my libido had been growing, almost like a second puberty. It wasn’t such an issue when there were willing participants around or when I could take care of myself. But when there wasn’t… look out. The longer I stared at the outlines of their large cocks, the more I thought about ignoring the smell.

  I took a deep breath in.

  Nope. Not happening.

  “Are we nearly there?” My question was met like all the others: stoney silence. Prior to entering the limo, some of my mermen guards had spoken to me in clipped terms as we traversed the ocean to the dock in Ottermond Harbor But since entering the limo, their lips had been zipped shut. And from the ogres, I hadn’t heard so much as a grunt.

  I shifted in my seat in an attempt to ease the ache in my ass. Someone had left a jagged seashell on the seat, and with my hands bound in manacles in front of me, I’d been unable to sweep it away before sitting. By the time this blasted car ride came to an end, I was sure the shell would be another permanent reminder—along with the smell—of this horrific land journey.

  My eyes slipped shut as the back of my head hit the seat. Weariness and fatigue filled every cell. The lack of salt air finally taking effect. Or maybe it was something in the spelled manacles or necklace that sapped my power. I wasn’t sure and had held out as long as I could, not knowing how long it would take to transport me from the Ottermond Harbor dock to the school. Not that I would allow myself to sleep—leaving myself unguarded with my jailers wasn’t something I wanted to risk. I’d heard stories about the Wicked Reform School. Everyone had. It was used by parents to keep unruly preteens and teens in line. Something far scarier than the normal water monsters mermaid parents used on their younger merchildren.

  But not my parents, all four of them. They never had the chance to share stories like that with me. I’d been ripped from my mother’s grip when I’d been eight years old. The iridescent conch shell on the back of my right shoulder marked me from birth as a siren. I’d been allowed to stay at home until age eight, but then, before puberty could take root, I’d been taken away to learn the powers of the siren.

  As my body succumbed to its fatigue, my breathing deepened and finally the smell didn’t bother me as much, acting like an anesthetic of some sort, which was crazy since that’s what my song did.

  “Finally. I thought Celestia would never fall asleep.” I didn’t need to see Jaladri to know it was him who spoke. Not that he ever spoke to me other than to bark out commands, but I’d been around him most of my life. As one of the head guards for the Mermaid Court, he’d been to my house, talking with my father, the King’s youngest brother, or to one of the two guards who stayed with my family. When I left home, that should have been the end, but he showed up routinely, guarding the various emissaries to the islands belonging to the sirens. One of my merguards said. I thought it was Jaladri, the lead guard, but couldn’t be positive. So it hadn’t come as a big surprise when he became the head guard for my escort since I’d been arrested, tried, and convicted in front of not only the Siren Council but also the Mermaid Court.

  Yes. Little old me… a convicted criminal. What a laugh. My crimes… I refused to use my powers to entrance humans and weak willed paranormals like a good siren.

  At Jaladri’s words, the two ogres relaxed their posture, giving me an inch more space on either side, and in the process—since I didn’t expect it—nearly gave away my ruse. I wasn’t asleep despite how much they’d sapped my power. I wasn’t only a siren, not that any of them knew that. It was a closely held secret. One I would never divulge, and one I hoped would help me to do the unthinkable… escape from the Wicked Reform School.

  The school’s motto was “reform or die”.

  That was it. Nothing else. There wasn’t even a cute song or cheer. There wasn’t a banner. It wasn’t something shouted at sports activities. Well, maybe the die part was if the rumours were true.

  No one escaped. Students sentenced to this place only left one of two ways: a body bag or under their own two feet once they’d been declared evil enough to graduate. I planned on leaving on my own feet, but evil wasn’t in the cards. Not that I couldn’t be, but my ire was directed towards our leaders and the way we treated each other, not those considered beneath me.

  Ogre number two shifted his arm until his hand slid under my right butt cheek. It normally wouldn’t have been a problem, but the mermaid court had dressed me in the siren’s formal ambassadorial dress: a strapless, backless bra type top that was joined to the sheer toga draped short skirt by a series of thin gold bracelet fastenings. Between the draping of the skirt and its length, the ogre’s hand was touching bare skin, weakening me. I bit my lower lip, knowing I couldn’t complain about his unwanted grope. To do so would have exposed my charade. Although I had a sneaking suspicion that the ogres knew I was faking it. Why they didn’t give me up, I didn’t know. Or maybe they didn’t know. From what I’d been told about ogres, they had brains the size of peas despite their extra-large bodies covered in yummy muscles. Even their green skin and long black hair wasn’t a turn off. Thank the gods for their stench. Without it, the world would be overrun wi
th baby ogres.

  So I decided to use him to feed. To do the very thing that would have kept me from this place. I wasn’t about to go into this school—or prison, which is what it really was—in the weakened state they wanted me in. Instead, by pulling on my attraction to the hot-blooded male and ignoring his stench, I could use his lust and sexual touches to my advantage. It wouldn’t be as powerful as a mutual attraction, but I would make it work to my advantage.

  He played with my ass, using his fingers to squeeze and tease all the while sliding his hand further under me until his fingers slipped between my legs, brushing the faintest touch against me. Under normal circumstances, I would have slammed my legs shut, keeping his grubby paws off me until I gave him permission, but my feet were shackled to the floor. Another one of their torture devices to keep me in my seat, unable to move. I didn’t know if the shackles were used on others, but for me and my mermaid heritage, being stuck without the ability to move, especially in my human form, was supreme torture.

  The air grew heavy around me. Or maybe it was all the deep breathing I did in anticipation of his next move. I needed more to his touch. I needed to feel him in me, to sate my hunger. Because right now, even with all my concentration to ensure my brain focused on wanting him, it just slowed the energy drain. I needed a bigger move to push me into positive territory. Just when his fingers were about to breach me, a move that would have made his actions difficult to conceal and would have revealed my sleeping charade, he pulled them from underneath my legs with a swiftness that left me reeling. What in Tartarus?

  I risked a little glance up at him, only to confront the barest hint of a smirk on his face. That ass. It was all the confirmation I needed: ogres were smarter than the paras gave them credit for, even if they didn’t appear to talk, at least not to other paranormals. Otherwise, he would have never known that one of the things that would sap energy from me would be to touch me sexually without my consent. No one knew that. It was my family’s closely held, darkest secret. But then again, there was no way he could know. Instead, he was probably just being an ass, getting me all worked up and then denying me a completion. All for his own sexual gratification if the cockstand in his pants meant anything.

  Many mermaid families were descendants from Rhodos and her dalliance with a male guard within her father, Poseidon’s, court. It was from those families that the potential for sirens—like me—emerged. All mermaids were created from the same foam that created Aphrodite, giving them a piece of her beauty and sexual allure. But sirens were her true descendants, giving them a double dose. We were also bestowed with a song, allowing us to draw unsuspecting humans and weaker-willed paranormals into slavery. It was those slaves that provided the bulk of goods and food used for the entire mermaid kingdom. But I had a little something extra, a power I kept under lock and key. It wasn’t such a big deal for the rest of my mermaid family since they were all born without the siren mark, but for me… the combination could be deadly.

  Somewhere, far back in the beginning, one of my ancestors dallied with Lilith, and throughout the ages, there have been more couplings between the children of Lilith and my ancestors. So not only do I have the ability to entice people with my beauty and song, giving them feelings of love and lust, I gain power from that feeling, growing stronger with each person who falls prey. I can even gain power from feeding off those who experience lust in my presence… the downside… touching me in any way without my consent saps the energy I would have normally received. It’s a way to keep me humble, I guess.

  It’s also the reason I landed in hot water and was shipped off to Wicked Reform School. How could I entice people if it could be so dangerous for them?

  “We’re nearly there. Wake her up.” The gruff angry voice of Jaladri filled the SUV. If I had been asleep, the boom coming from him would have woken me with a start no matter how low on power they were keeping me.

  A strong elbow to my ribs had me gasping for air. Not something I particularly enjoyed considering breathing was already becoming unbearable from the lack of salt water in the air. Not to mention the stink. And despite my hidden energy reserves that helped to shield me from the full force of the blow, ogres pack a mean wallop, especially when they suspect that you’re trying to pull a fast one on them.

  I rubbed my ribs, using my elbows and upper arms as best I could, considering the heavy manacles that encased my wrists. Shit. I was going to be black and blue for days. A sharp pain nearly had me crying out when I took a deeper breath. Fuck. It felt like he broke a few ribs.

  The SUV pulled to a stop about ten feet in front of a massive wrought-iron gate. One of the nicer mermaid guards reached back, running an open can of saltwater air under my nose. The sniff was brief, but it helped with the pain, clearing my head. “She’s ready,” he told Jaladri.

  “Good.” Jaladri motioned to the driver and the SUV began a slow crawl toward the gate.

  We passed through a heavy barrier, which made it impossible to breathe before the front end of the SUV limo breached the gates. By the time I passed through and could breathe, dizziness and darkness clouded my vision. Shit. I knew the barrier would be strong, but I hadn’t realized it wouldn’t allow someone to breathe while they were inside it. That would seriously mess up my escape plans.

  Once through the gate, the vehicle wound its way towards a large forbidding stone building, travelling around a large square field.

  “That’s the training grounds,” one of my guards informed me with a sardonic smile which was anything but helpful. Considering the fact that he’d been one of the most brutal of my mermaid guards, I knew that anything that excited him would mean pain for me.

  I didn’t bother to answer him. There wasn’t a point. Besides, we’d rolled to a stop in front of the building. The one that held control over the future of my life.

  CHAPTER TWO

  CELESTIA

  “OUT.”

  The shackles around my ankles released as the ogre sitting next to me climbed out. No one offered me a hand, making it difficult for me to move with the manacles around my wrists. I shimmied and lurched, inching my way to the door. When my first foot connected with the ground, I stumbled, nearly landing face first on the rough pavement. Now that would have hurt—probably breaking my nose, knocking out a few teeth—but none of my guards bothered to even move an inch to keep it from happening. Instead, it was my long-braided hair that saved me. Even though it hurt worse than the earlier elbow, I was grateful my hair snagged on some exposed hooks over the door, yanking me upright as a startled cry left my lips.

  The guards chuckled as I attempted to untangle my hair, but with the weight and size of the manacles making it impossible, I ended up giving up. I squared my shoulders and clamped my teeth together to keep from crying out. I didn’t want to give my captors another sense of satisfaction. With a firm yank, I pulled my hair free, leaving a clump behind from the feel of it. But I was free and relatively unharmed.

  Without acknowledging me, Jaladri led the way into the building, leaving the two ogres behind. From the corner of my eyes, I caught several people in similar uniforms staring at me—probably other inmates? students?—but I refused to turn my head to confirm my suspicions. I’d find out the answer soon enough.

  We climbed a couple of flights of stairs, stopping on the second floor. To accommodate the taller paranormals, the building had been built with high walls, making it seem like every floor covered the height of at least two normal sized ones. By the time we stopped, a light sheen of sweat covered me and I’d developed a dull pain between my shoulder blades. I was at the point that I’d do anything to get the manacles off.

  Jaladri halted before a heavy door and rapped his knuckles across it in a weird rhythm. For as long as I’d been above water training on one of the hidden siren islands, I’d never get used to this idea of hitting wood to be allowed entrance to somewhere. Why couldn’t they just hang strings of shells or other things in the doorways to close them off?

  “Yes? Is that you Dean Aero?” The high-pitched sweet voice caught me off guard. Who would have thought that someone would sound so happy and carefree within a place like this? But considering the person behind the voice never answered Jaladri’s knock, maybe they weren’t all there mentally. It was the only way someone could be happy here.