VIII. Conjugation

Cleo was going to hate him. There were no two ways about it. He had basically sentenced her to be his... his bond mate, or whatever Denman wanted to call it, and there was no way she would ever want to be friends again, let alone...

With his heart sinking, Lewis crushed all thoughts of anything he might have hoped for at one time.

He felt like the lowest scum when he saw the bright orange flicker that meant she was swimming close by. Denman told him it would be today. Lewis had been avoiding it, taking slow laps in every direction to steer clear, but it seemed Cleo would search him out.

Her head popped up as she scanned the premises. Lewis tried to stay still and prevent any lapping waves from betraying him. She glanced his way, and he stiffened—motionless behind the sandbar.

"Lewis!" she called out to him, relief cracking her voice.

And he knew it was no use.

He couldn't ignore her; couldn't pretend he had changed in his feelings for her to make it easier for them to get through this. His arms opened of their own volition, and in a few hearty strokes, Cleo was clinging to him as if he was her last chance at happiness. He was heartbroken to know how wrong she was.

"Cleo, are you hurt?" "Are you okay, Lewis?" They said in unison.

Cleo blushed and moved back an arm's length. "I'm okay, I just didn't know where you were or if you were still..." she released a heavy sigh. Lewis noticed she no longer wiped the tears away with the back of her hand. Maybe it was useless, being surrounded by water, but he missed it as something vital to her identity.

"Cleo, what did they do to you?"

"Not too much. The shots are the worst." She wrinkled her nose, and was Cleo again. "But I love this place! I swam all around to find you, and it's so pretty! It's too bad Emma and Rikki can't be here! And Nixie. We met her in the other tank, and she's really nice. She knows a lot about mermaids; she was born one! I wonder if Denman might let them come, too. Then we could all be together!"

"Cleo." Lewis had that sinking feeling again. He was definitely scum. "She didn't... tell you what she brought you here for?"

"To see you!" Cleo still held tight to his arms, and the contact seemed to sear him with guilt.

"Yeah, but... augh."

The unmistakable click-clack of Denman's pumps signalled the beginning of Lewis's worst nightmare. He pulled Cleo to him protectively, and she blushed again as he had no scales or covering of any kind from the waist up. Her open palm was pressed against the damp smoothness of his chest, and the place on her body where skin met scales was brushed by his fingers when he captured her. She didn't think they'd ever been so close before.

Denman loomed over them at her favourite perch. "Stop wasting time, Lewis," she sounded like a disappointed teacher handing over poor marks. "If you won't tell her, I will."

"Tell me what?" Cleo was still moderately distracted by the fact that Lewis wasn't letting go.

"Leave us alone, Denman!" Cleo flinched at Lewis's outrage. "She shouldn't have to do this! It can be someone else; I didn't mean for you to bring her here!"

"Oh, it's a little late for all that. Besides, I think you two have a good chance at getting me what I want. You're more than compatible."

Cleo knew there was trouble, even if she couldn't determine what, exactly. "What does she mean? What is she talking about, Lewis?"

Dr. Denman rolled her eyes with dramatic exaggeration. "You're not here to chat away your existence. You're here to mate."

"I don't understand," Cleo was clearly agitated now, "That doesn't make any..."

"Sense?" Denman finished, "Of course it does. Your sole purpose here is for research and profit. Your bonding and any spawn you might produce will be useful in both areas."

"Spawn?" Cleo's lip trembled and she looked up to Lewis. "I don't want to do this."

"I know, and you shouldn't have to..."

Denman's voice cut in. "Fifteen," she addressed Cleo, "I hope you realise what happens to mermen who aren't viable breeders. Or did Two fail to explain clearly enough?"

"Once they found out he wasn't what they wanted they took care of him on the boat. Made it look like a shark attack."

Cleo's face turned the sickly ashen colour that plagued Charlotte's skin.

"We don't have to, Cleo. Don't worry about me." Lewis gave Denman a murderous glare.

"He's right," Denman went on. "I can't force you to do anything. And the injection doesn't hurt much. He'll barely know his body's shutting down until he's dead."

Tears streamed down her face, and no longer wary of boundaries, she let her forehead fall against Lewis's chest as she sobbed.

"Denman!" Lewis shouted up at her, "Don't do this! I'll pick another! Just... let her go back. Please."

"Ah, but I've already seen how well you responded to her picture. You can't fake that kind of thing. Science, Lewis. You know very well, it doesn't lie."

Lewis began to plead again, but Cleo, still sobbing, raised her head. "No! No, stop. I'll do it!"

Lewis tried to protest, and Denman looked unconvinced.

"I promise, I'll do it! Just... leave us alone! Please!"

Denman gave a weary huff, as if she'd known the outcome all along and was frustrated at how much time it had taken from her day. "Very well. Have all the time alone you need.

"Oh," she said, looking down at the grief stricken pair and flashing an evil smirk. "Let me know if I can turn on some music for you."

The last they heard was the click-clack of her pumps fading into the distance.

-x-

For a long time they said nothing. Lewis was sure anything he said or did would only make things worse, and so he simply held her. Cleo hadn't managed to stop crying.

At last, her sobs melted into inconstant sniffles, and he said, "I'll call her back. We don't have to..."

"No," she mumbled, "I don't want it to be someone else. If you have to... to do this..." her voice was very small as she said, "I'd rather it be me."

"But I've never... and you've never..." He couldn't bring her to look at him as he said, "What if I hurt you?"

"It would hurt me more if someone else was your mate."

"Don't call it that!" He felt a little guilty for being so sharp, but it was important to him not to use any of Denman's terms.

"Is there somewhere more... quiet we can go?" she sniffed.

Lewis knew what she meant. The whole tank was quiet, but she wanted somewhere more private; somewhere secure, more closed-in. There was one place that felt safe—safer than the rest of the enclosure.

"There's an underwater passage to a small pool on the beach. It's warm?" he offered weakly.

Cleo nodded.

Her hand was clutched tightly in his all the way to the pool. It seemed they were bound already. Whatever Denman's experiments did, there was an unspoken wish to get through it together.

Cleo cried the whole night.

She tried to be brave; tried to put on a front so Lewis wouldn't feel more wretched than he already did, but it was impossible. They weren't stupid; they knew how this was supposed to work. For humans at least. But they were merfolk now, and Lewis wasn't used to his merman anatomy.

Cleo cried when the fleshy barb expanded from beneath a set of blue-green scales—they were almost pretty, but for the thing they released—and she worried aloud that it was too big to fit.

She cried when he repeated how sorry he was, and tried to retract, telling her there was another way, because there had to be, and he wouldn't make her.

She cried when she violently shook her head and led him to the place where her own scales were shifting colour and dividing under some strange magic, so he could perform the one thing that would save his life, and possibly ruin it simultaneously.

And she cried when it was over and there was nothing left to do but cry.

But most of all she cried when Lewis's poorly hid snuffles testified to his own agony, and she didn't have the courage to turn to the other side, and take his hand in comfort.

Author's Notice:

I told you it was going to be dreadful! Just remember to take out all your horror and anger on the evil Dr. Denman, and not the nice author who will give you a snippet of the next chapter in exchange for reviews. :)