"Yes."

  "I beg you to spare me, sir." Shinaz trembled violently with sobs. She knew of Godma's army and their merciless brutality—a reputation that struck terror even among the merfolk. "I won't breathe a single word of what I've seen or heard tonight. I swear it—by the God of the Sea, by the elder gods, or by your Triad. I only ask that you spare my life..." The knife pressed harder against her throat. "Sir!" She summoned what little courage remained: "I'll do anything for you! Please let me live! I beg you! I don't want to die!"

  The blade seemed to hover just shy of breaking skin. "You don't want to die."

  "Yes..." Her breath came in desperate gasps, like one reborn. "I don't want to die, sir."

  The blade retreated from her throat; instead, the flat of it wandered across her skin. Bryce Banhart pressed his face to her collarbone, savoring her scent. His rough stubble scraped against her wet, delicate skin, causing small stings of pain—but anything was preferable to the dagger's edge, and Shinaz could endure it. The spine of the blade traced its way to her right breast, circling lightly around the areola. All he could smell was the salt of the sea.

  The mermaid released a soft moan.

  Bryce swept the hair from her face and caressed her left cheek with the back of his hand, exploring her. These gestures carried a teasing quality that kindled a spark of desire within her. He set aside the knife in his right hand, his fingers slowly closing upon her erect nipple, small and firm as a bean. Bryce Banhart pinched and pulled until she moaned again. Her areolae were deeply pigmented.

  "You'll do anything for me?"

  "Yes... sir." He released his grip; her porcelain-white breast had flushed crimson. "But... mm... not that."

  "Why not?"

  "Why?" The mermaid felt both irritated and amused. "Just look!" Her tail-fin began slapping against the floor again. "Like this, I can't... do that with you!" Her face reddened once more.

  "Besides that reason?" The killer found his prey increasingly enticing. "That's no obstacle, Shinaz." He laid the flat of his blade along her tail-fin and drew it down to where her pelvis began. "I can slice open your fin so you can spread your legs like a human woman."

  Shinaz Morkachka watched him prepare to cut, and fresh tears burst forth. A mermaid, it seemed, could weep an ocean. "Please don't!" she pleaded. "I have a child!"

  "You have a child?"

  She nodded vigorously. "In my belly. I'm pregnant."

  The killer sneered. "Fortunate you didn't claim your child just celebrated its thirtieth birthday."

  "I'm not lying!" The mermaid cried out with heart-wrenching desperation. "I truly am pregnant! I didn't realize that act would bring such pain! I... I..." She struggled to find proof of her condition but came up empty. "Please, you must believe me!"

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  "Where's the father? On the seabed? I find it hard to believe any responsible man would allow his pregnant wife to wander freely—especially in a human village."

  "He's a merman," she corrected. "And yes, he's on the seabed—buried there. Facing two great white sharks at once leaves no chance of survival."

  "Then it appears you're telling the truth."

  "Yes, sir."

  "Do mermen have the same anatomy below the waist?"

  She looked puzzled. "Yes, the same. Though their tail-fins are somewhat larger, and more colorful..."

  Shinaz found her throat seized again, robbing her of breath. "Is that so? Then we have a problem." She felt cold metal beneath her neck. "You and mermen couldn't possibly mate."

  "Let me explain!" She felt a sting—the knife had broken skin. "During special occasions, in special places, we can shed our scales and fins to grow legs!" she cried out. "Then I can spread my legs like a human woman and ma... mate, conceive! Believe me, sir! I'm telling the truth!"

  "But you said you couldn't 'mate' with me." He emphasized the word deliberately. "Isn't that a lie, Shinaz?" The blade continued its threatening path.

  "Not now..." Her voice was hollow with despair. "Truly, believe me. At this moment, I couldn't possibly... no matter what..." Tears had depleted her strength and reason. Bryce Banhart remained silent for a moment, then sheathed his dagger.

  No longer feeling cold steel at her throat, the mermaid dared to raise her head. "Thank you, sir." She watched him put the weapon away and repeated, gratefully: "Thank you."

  Bryce continued to ignore her, offering no acknowledgment of her gratitude. "I will never reveal a word of what I know. I swear it," the mermaid insisted, terrified he might reconsider. The assassin pulled a chest of odds and ends from beneath the table, searching for another length of rope. "No, sir. I saw nothing tonight." She forced a smile, desperate for any response from him. He gave her one.

  The rope wound through her hair, with one strand cutting into her mouth. "Why?!" She struggled against her bonds. "Why are you doing this? Weren't you going to release me?"

  "Because I don't want to hear your voice," he stated flatly.

  Shinaz Morkachka released an internal sigh of relief. She now understood he merely found her irritating—he didn't truly intend to kill her. (I can certainly keep quiet.) She felt a flicker of indignation. (But for now, I'll comply. Perhaps after a short while, he'll let me go. Yes.)

  In the end, her wait stretched nearly two hours.

  Throughout those two hours, Old Fisher's head rested against her smooth shoulder; Shinaz could feel his cheek growing rigid. A mermaid's body suffered cruelly without water. She slumped, exhausted, enduring the painful cracking of every inch of her skin. (Let me go.) She whimpered, her gills turning a dark, sickly hue. (Please, I'm dying of thirst.)

  Bryce Banhart sat watching from his chair. He seemed to derive pleasure from toying with his prey, observing their physical and mental deterioration. (If you would just close your eyes, just doze off for a second, I might have a chance...) Shinaz sobbed uncontrollably—this bastard.

  Suddenly the killer rose, and the mermaid lifted her head, eyes gleaming with renewed hope. "I have a fondness for beautiful things," he said, approaching her. "And you, Shinaz, are beautiful."

  (He's finally letting me go!) The mermaid slapped her tail in ecstasy, nodding frantically, choking out a few words through the rope gag. The man leaned down, his hands reaching behind her. (I'm saved!)

  Bryce Banhart's hands merely brushed her back, lifting a few strands of chestnut-red hair near her ear. "Such a pity," he whispered, biting her earlobe. "I love destroying and torturing beautiful things even more."

  Shinaz Morkachka's eyes remained frozen wide in horror.

  Killer Banhart returned to his seat to resume his appreciation—of a fish out of water. The mermaid Shinaz, along with the little merfolk in her womb, died slowly in the merciless agony of dehydration.

  She endured for another hour and fifteen minutes.