Kissing the Shark (Maritime Monsters #1)

Chapter 6- The Shark

CHAPTER 6- THE SHARK

DEVOUR.

THAT IS all I wish to do. I swim up and down in my shark form, gliding along the deep currents. I catch unsuspecting fish in my mouth and make them my snack. The prey of the ocean that do not see me coming end up my meal. I have been eating as much as I can all night —is it night? Light works differently all the way down here. Regardless, I continue to feast, not out of hunger, but out of sheer frustration.

My mate does not want me.

Karlo, the angel on the surface with dark eyes and darker tufts of straight hair, has rejected me.

I chomp on another fish and grind the bones, as I do every day. I should be resting, sleeping in my shark form. After all, I need to swim back to the MM Institute again in the morning. But all I can do is let my rage out on the small fish and bottom feeders of the sea. I feel no remorse because that is their role, and mine is that of the predator .

“You are eating so much,” the hammerhead communicates to me in animal-speak. He swims by but does not interrupt my feeding frenzy.

“Leave me be,” I reply in animal-speak. I envy him and the other sharks. They are pure animals that live by nature’s rule. I will outlive them all, even if they do not try to harm each other, their life expectancy is a fraction of mine. Most of all, they do not need to deal with the complications of being a human.

But I am a human, at least half the time. And I want to know more about one other human, in particular. “I must…feed.”

“You are not the same disposition as usual. You are…”

“I am still the razor-jawed predator,” I say, interrupting his thought.

He hesitates as he swims beside me. “Of course.”

“Never forget your place,” I tell him. With that, I swim off, far from the other creatures. Behind me, the hammerhead proceeds to hunt for his next meal.

A few minutes later, I make it to the underground cave that is my home. Mother is already there, lying on the seafloor on her designated rock. “My son, what troubles you?”

I shift into hybrid form and my legs pop out. Sleeping like this does not require me to continuously move, unlike in my shark form. I lie down on my underwater rock, a few yards away. This is all we need to sleep, and large creatures never bother to come here. Humans need so much bedding, it is almost ridiculous. All we need is a safe spot on the sandy floor here in Wavecrush Cove.

“Nothing, Mother.” I put my hands behind my head and stare up at the underwater cave ceiling.

“It doesn’t seem like nothing,” she says. Her voice travels clearly through the water, but only us hybrid shark-humans can understand this dialect. “You haven’t filled me in about your time at MM Institute.”

I huff and bubbles float above me. A stray jellyfish floats by, and I bat it away with my arm. “Nothing to say.”

“And what of your mate?”

I groan and turn over, laying on my side away from Mother. I know I’m being rude, bratty as Aunt Sarah once said, but I cannot help it. The wound is still fresh. How could my mate not feel the bond between us? “There is…no mate. He…wasn’t there.”

“Ah, I see,” Mother says. “Well, I won’t upset you any further. Get a good night’s sleep, Son. I hope tomorrow you still consider going back to the institute.”

“I…will…” I murmur, still not facing her. I grow even more embarrassed. All of the surface dwellers watched Karlo reject me. Now I need to go back there and be subjected to their research, whatever that entails.

Being a part of the surface has been nothing but heartache so far. But I made a commitment, and learning about my human genetics may be useful in the long run. So, I close my eyes and drift off to sleep. Hopefully I do not dream about saving a certain human man on a beach, a tempting illusion that can only lead to heartbreak.

Early the next morning, Skyler Dillinger approaches the front door of MM Institute. He unlocks the door by swiping his badge, then startles and yelps when he notices me. I get up from my crouched position and stare at him as he catches his breath.

“Mr. Shaughnessy. I’m sorry, I…thought you were like a gargoyle or something.” He huffs while clutching his brown cup.

“What is a gargoyle?”

“It’s like a…never mind, I’ll show you one day. Good morning!”

“Good…morning.” Ah yes, that’s the greeting surface dwellers use regularly. I follow him inside and back into that box that moves up.

He eyes me curiously. “I gotta say, I’m…surprised you’re here.”

“Would you like me to leave?” I try not to frown, but my sour disposition from last night has not completely abated. And I’m still uncomfortable with…what is it called, an elevator?

“No!” The doors open again, and I follow Skyler forward. We are back on the office floor, where I met my love less than a day ago. “I’m glad you’re here. I just didn’t expect you this early.”

“I do not require as much sleep as humans do.”

“Right.” He settles at a desk and takes off his knapsack. “Every monster is different though.” He swipes and turns on his laptop. “Many have the same sleep schedule as me. But clearly you’re built differently, a well-oiled machine.”

I’m not sure what he means, so I nod. “Hm.”

Skyler glances around in silence for another few seconds. Then, he says, “So, uh…I need to set up some stuff, gather my belongings, and wake my brain up before we begin our research.”

“I understand.”

“I guess…we can get started in fifteen minutes?”

I nod. “Very well. I am here to help you, after all.”

“Hopefully we can help each other.” He pushes up his glasses and his blue eyes almost gleam. They are nothing like the darker orbs of beauty owned by my mate, but I need to stop thinking about him. After all, he’s not my mate. And I need to get past it.

Hours later, in a far corner office, Skyler has finished asking me approximately eighty questions. The topics were mundane, like what is the normal schedule of my day? And how did I learn how to talk? He recorded me, which means my likeness is on camera, a device he demonstrated to me at the beginning of our sessions. I am fascinated by human technology, specifically these office chairs. The part where my glutes touch the seat is so soft, supernaturally so. My tail flops behind me as I swivel in it. As foreign as it is to be on something so puffer-fish-esque, I admit it is fun to move around in it. Maybe surface life will be enjoyable.

As Skyler types away, I sense a tingle up my spine. Someone is coming, and it can only be one person.

“Hey, I’m going downstairs to change the tanks, then―oh.” My mate has walked into our area, and disappointment rises on his face like a baby whale breaching the surface.

“Karlo Castillo,” I say, breathlessly. I stand up, and the man looks down. Despite his discomfort with being near me, just the sight of my beloved takes my breath away. How do the other humans not fawn over him? I am fairly certain Skyler is also gay, so how can he not claim someone so gorgeous and angelic?

“Hello, uh, Mr. Shaughnessy,” Karlo mutters.

“Please, call me Razorjaw.”

His eyebrows jump, then he turns to Skyler. “Right. Well, Skyler, I’m on turtle tank duty. Then, uh, lunch?”

Skyler’s eyes dart between me and Karlo for several long seconds. His face seems to finish analyzing an invisible fiber between me and Karlo, then he smiles. “Sure. Café in two hours?”

Karlo looks at me skeptically, then back to his friend. “Sounds good.”

With that, my mate is gone, and the room feels slightly colder. “So, anyway…” I turn to Skyler’s voice. “Can I measure your arms and legs?” He takes out a thick yellow paper and beams at me, and I am unsure of where this is going.

Hours later, we are at what Skyler calls the Museum Café. Patrons mull about as the museum has opened. I am pleasantly surprised that these people pay me no mind. I notice the occasional phoenix shifter and vampire bat shifter among them, so perhaps being a monster in this building is commonplace.

Skyler places down a plastic rectangle known as a tray, and atop it, I notice cups and other mysterious products. “I got you the fish and chips!” His smile is almost charming as he gleefully unwraps his meal. “You told me about all the fish you eat. I figured you’d want to try how we eat it.”

My nose wrinkles at the aromas in front of Skyler. While I am no odor sleuth unless I am underwater, even I can tell these chemicals and breadstuffs hardly constitute what I call fish. Still, Skyler is friendly, and I am here to learn about the surface world.

My reluctant disposition is instantly changed when someone sits down within mere feet of me. “Karlo!”

“Razorjaw,” he says curtly. He places a brown paper bag on the table. “I didn’t realize you’d be joining us for lunch.”

“I’m his mentor to help him get situated to human society!” Skyler chirps. He eats what looks like a small stick made of potato and grins at Karlo. My beloved merely frowns and opens his bag.

Alright, Razorjaw. He may have rejected you, but you can change that. Time to impress the love of your life .

“Did you know I ate fifty-five mackerel yesterday?” I flash my toothiest smile to Karlo. Surely all my predatory behaviors will highlight what a quality mate I am.

Instead, he freezes up, midbite into his breadstuff. He swallows —with that beautiful mouth and throat —then nods. “Um, that’s great, Razorjaw.”

“Is it great, Karlo Castillo?” I ask eagerly.

“Uh, uh, Razorjaw!” Skyler yelps. “Why don’t you ask Karlo some questions about surface life?”

Karlo glares at his friend, but I simply shrug. “How many fish does a human need to devour in order to be your mate? Is there a standard?”

Karlo coughs, and I frown. Skyler stutters, saying, “Uh, uh…I meant questions about typical food!”

After a beat, I look around at the other patrons. They all seem to be eating meals from atop the brown rectangles, presumably purchased from the Museum Café. I turn to the gorgeous man on my left. “Do you…not wish to partake in food from the brown rectangles?”

“You mean the trays?” He pulls on the plastic underneath Skyler’s meal, and I nod. “I…have my own food.”

“You caught your own prey?”

His eyebrows scrunch together. “Man, no. Some of us make food to take to work.”

He takes a bite, and I stare at his perfect mouth. “I see. You prepare cuisine the night before, yes?”

He cracks a faintest smirk and stares at the paper bag on the table. “I would hardly call a peanut-butter-and-jelly sandwich cuisine.”

“I can find more of these peanut-butter-and-jellies in the sand, then bring them to you. That would please you, yes?”

Karlo sighs with a smile. Meanwhile, Skyler seems to be biting back laughter. “Man, you don’t need to get me anything. You don’t need to impress me. And Skyler clearly hasn’t taught you about human food yet. A sandwich is when you place two pieces of bread around something.”

I nod and stare at the food he’s slowly chewing on. “Yes. My aunt taught me what bread is. The seagulls seem to greatly enjoy it. But I have never had this wich of the sand, only crustaceans sleep in the sand where I live.”

“No sand involved,” he says with a chuckle. “But I’m glad to know you weren’t lying when you said you were raised in the ocean.”

“Yes. I am the apex predator with the razor jaws.” I nod and puff up my chest. “All creatures fear me.”

Karlo’s eyes soften; for the briefest, fleeting moment, I get the sense he wants to know more about me. But several children laugh and run across the room, and the spell is broken.

“Right. I…gotta get back to work.”

“Already?” Skyler asks.

“I’m doing museum set-up for the rest of the afternoon,” Karlo replies. He wraps up his trash and stands. I miss him already.

“Next week we have that big meeting with Emma,” Skyler says.

“Don’t remind me,” Karlo replies.

“I will never remind you, I swear,” I say. This causes the two of them to laugh again. I may never understand human intonations.

“Someone needs to teach you sarcasm,” Karlo says with another beautiful smirk. I almost tell him that he can teach me, when he quickly bids us goodbye and disappears.

I slump in my chair and frown. The ambient sounds of patrons eating and chatting do nothing to distract me from my sadness. What can I do to make my mate want me?

“Look, Mr. Shaughnessy,” Skyler says. I glance at his empathetic face. “I may be overstepping professional bounds here, but…” He bites his lip and looks away. “Karlo is one of my best friends. We’ve been besties for years. ”

I nod and lean in closer. “Don’t tell him I said this, but…he doesn’t have a good track record with guys.”

“Track record?”

“It means, like, when it comes to dating men, he hasn’t done well.”

“Dating?”

“Courtship…which leads to mating,” he replies.

“Ah.” I nod and tap the table. “Does that mean he does not like…dating?”

“No. He’s just skeptical. His ex…well, I shouldn’t say more.”

My heart pounds in my chest with hope. “No, please say more.”

“It’s private.” Skyler stares at his tray. “But just know…the key to a man’s heart in the human world…is not about how many fish you can eat, or how predatory you are.”

I hold my breath. He needs to tell me the answers.

“The key is to…get to know them. Ask them questions about their life, and offer up personal parts of yours.” Skyler looks up and smiles softly at me. “Then, when you both learn enough about each other, you ask them to go on dates.”

“And that leads to mating?” I ask, and my tail wags.

Skyler snorts. “If you’re lucky,” he murmurs. He stands up with his tray. “Come on, I want to teach you more about the museum.”

I eagerly follow him along. For the first time in twenty-four hours, my heart feels light, as if the currents are moving in my favor.