Tridia (The Poseidia Series Book 3)

  Copyright 2017 JL Imhoff

  Cover Design by Seth Chamberlin of Lost Art designs

  Edited by Shaner Media Creations

  All rights reserved. Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of both the copyright owner and the above publisher of this book.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands, media, and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of various products referenced in this work of fiction, which have been used without permission. The publication/use of these trademarks is not authorized, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owners.

  Chapter 1

  “We’re going to be late, Anna,” Eric scolded, his voice a bellow laced with animosity.

  Startled out of my near-catatonic daze, I securely tucked and tied my robe shut before I twirled, angered at his intrusion. “You could have knocked—I deserve my privacy.” A strong ocean breeze toyed with the bottom of my robe, billowing the silky fabric around my legs. I gasped as my electroreceptors tingled.

  “I knocked. You didn’t answer.” Eric hid his irritation in an uninterested straight-line pursing of his lips. He turned his foul gaze out over the ocean, while tucking his hands in the belt of the tuxedo pants he wore, attempting to quell his impatience, I assumed.

  “I didn’t hear you,” I retorted, clutching the robe to my chest, the wind attempting to rip the flimsy cloth from my body. My eyes watered, overcome by a ruthless combination of frustration and longing, as waves crashed several hundred feet beneath us.

  “I wasn’t going to stand out there waiting forever. But had I known you were self-pleasuring, I would’ve snuck in and secretly observed.” Eric hiked his left eyebrow in either amusement or disgust—I couldn’t discern which given his typical condescending facial expressions.

  “You’re a jackass. I wasn’t… self… pleasuring, I’m simply observing the sun set.” To reinforce the claim, I jerked my chin from him to the skyline, in time to see the sun ease below the horizon. With its departure, the wind picked up, carrying the scent of an offshore storm.

  The truth was, mesmerized by the peaceful beauty, I had gotten carried away with the stimulating breeze caressing my exposed electroreceptors. I’d let my robe slip off my shoulders, catching in the crook of my elbows. In a rare solitary moment, I’d allowed my compulsion for modesty to slip, and reveled as salty ocean winds kissed every inch of my body. The stimulation had been hypnotizing, until every hair on my body stood as my electroreceptors zinged with pleasure.

  “Don’t be embarrassed, we all masturbate. Though I’ll admit I didn’t expect you to be standing out here, naked.” Eric’s eyes turned from the horizon and drifted down my body. “So… exposed,” he said the last in a mocking tone.

  “I’m not naked.” I clasped my robe closer to my body, repulsed by his invasive, roaming stare.

  Eric rolled his eyes and gazed back out over the ocean. “Might as well be. Besides, I don’t understand why you try to hide. Why you’re ashamed of your sexuality.”

  Furious, I spat, “Leave, Eric. Now.” I spun and stormed back into the bedroom. “I didn’t ask for your opinions.”

  His footsteps echoed on the hard wood floor. “You’re wasting your beauty pining away for him,” Eric challenged. “But, whatever. Get dressed, we’re leaving in five minutes or we’ll be late. I only stopped in to see if the dresses I sent up were to your liking.” He’d emphasized liking as if he didn’t really care whether I approved of the outfits or not, but perhaps someone had ordered him to consider my opinion.

  “These,” I said, grabbing the top two dresses lying on my bed, “are too revealing. How do you expect me to cover my whole body with makeup?” I shook out the black, strapless evening gown in my right hand, to emphasize my point. I’d briefly tried the dress on, but the cleavage cut almost to my navel, not to mention the slit that exposed my right thigh and hip. I couldn’t even wear panties under the scrap of cloth marauding as a dress.

  “I didn’t expect you to wear full-body makeup, but I need you to be sexy and irresistible.” He rolled his eyes again. “Not dressed as a mortician.”

  My boobs are too big for this dress, and will be exposed, was the protest I wanted to make.

  “There’s a closet full of women’s items to help you come up with a solution,” Eric replied to my inner dialogue, while staring down at my well-covered cleavage. “And as for the other problem, there’s this.” He pulled out a bracelet, similar to the one Atlas had given me. This one a plain golden cuff, about a quarter-inch in width. Eric firmly grabbed my left arm and closed the simple bangle around my wrist before I could utter a protest.

  In the same instant that the gold cuff snapped shut, a hologram appeared and integrated with my skin, giving me a human-looking mirage.

  Holy crap.

  Stunned, I glanced at him as he pulled another from his pocket and snapped that one around his own wrist. Before my eyes, Eric transformed from sparkly male Mer to dazzling human. His striking white hair remained unchanged, but his eyes transformed to a pale green, complete with human-sized irises.

  “How?” I asked, dazzled by the illusion.

  “Doesn’t matter,” he answered. “Don’t lose the bracelet, or you’ll be pulled from missions.” Sadly, the transformation hadn’t improved his attitude, or arrogance.

  “You would enjoy seeing me fail,” I snarled, annoyed by his never-ending condescension.

  “I would,” he affirmed, abruptly turning and storming out the door.

  “Asshole,” I whispered at his retreating form, turning to the full-length mirror positioned opposite the bed. On its own, my skin had the mutated ability to transform to human-looking in direct sunlight, but indoors, or in the shade, my flesh changed back to iridescent Mer.

  Curious, I took the gadget off, and put it back on, several times, admiring the change.

  Anna human. Anna Mer.

  Anna human. Anna Mer.

  Cool. Possibilities flickered through my mind.

  Anna human.

  Excited by the potential freedom, I twisted the jewelry and stuck out my arms, admiring both pieces. The one on the right, King Atlas gave me before the community integration to help me hide a dark attachment I’d acquired. David. Or rather, David’s spirit had somehow attached itself to my soul when he’d died, literally taking a fractured piece of my essence to hell with him.

  Sarah had informed me the only way to retrieve the lost part of my soul would require a journey to the afterlife, and confronting David.

  Remaining in denial, and unsure of how to actually find David in hell, I did what I always do—avoid confronting the issue by keeping myself swamped with distractions, the most important one being Laith.

  Since Roman remained in hibernation—five months and counting—I’d begged Atlas to put me on missions. A role where I hoped to help my fellow Mers, rather than being an ongoing disruption. Atlas had gotten me accepted to the program, over Eric’s and the High Council’s adamant opposition.

  Anna human.

  My gaze returned to the mirror. Suspicious of Eric coming back in unannounced, I glanced at the door, then tiptoed over and flipped the lock.

  Jerk.

  Still flustered at being caught nearly naked on the balcony, I didn’t want another inconvenient intrusion. Back in front of the mirror, I slid my robe to the floor and admired my temporary h
uman form.

  Anna. Human.

  More freedom.

  Why didn’t Roman tell me about this?

  Forbidden, I suppose.

  Determined to not mess this opportunity up, and be forced back to patrols, I swallowed my pride and shimmied into the black strapless dress. In the closet, I found stick-on bra cups, but with that questionable support, my boobs threatened to spill over. They were sore and swollen—a sure sign my body approached ovulation.

  Remaining loyal to Roman, I hadn’t been with anyone, so I couldn’t be pregnant, but oh—my—god, I was… lonely. I hadn’t intended to get caught up in the breeze’s stimulation, hence Eric’s surprise, but man, oh man, my Mer bodily needs were getting harder to ignore.

  Roman had been gone too long. Although he had released me from any kind of exclusive commitment, going so far as to encourage me to take care of myself, I’d stubbornly refused any and all invitations for companionship thus far—and there’d been many. Thinking he’d be pleased with my strength of resolve, and proving my devotion, I told myself I wanted him and him only, refusing to acknowledge the nagging realization that closing myself off was a familiar, life-long pattern.

  My fantasies were of Roman. My dreams, of him. But waiting grew increasingly frustrating. Especially since I had no idea how long he would be in hibernation.

  One item the Mers didn’t supply? Vibrators. Note to self—get some cash and take a human shopping spree.

  Three loud knocks, and the door handle’s twisting, signaled Eric had reached the end of his limited patience.

  Let him wait.

  In the closet, I found a strappy, wedge-heeled pair of sandals. Shit, these aren’t shoes—these are come-screw-me-shoes. While Eric pounded on the door, and I ignored him, I slipped my feet into the supple leather and pulled the inside zippers up. Standing, the shoe base proved supportive, stable, and nicely springy.

  One last glance in the mirror. Good enough.

  Chapter 2

  Swinging the door open, I strode into the hallway, past Eric, and down the stairs, carefully controlling the cork-induced bounce in my step; my boobs would break free at the slightest provocation. “Aren’t you coming?” I snapped back at him.

  Not waiting for an answer, I jutted my chin and walked out the front door, stopping next to the cherry-red Jaguar convertible. Determined to appear strong, I vowed to not reveal my insecurity in front of Eric—he would eat me alive, and not in a good way. Worse, he watched for any misstep as an excuse to have me thrown off missions.

  Expecting him to open my door, my jaw dropped when he strutted past me and slipped in to the driver’s seat without a word. Biting my tongue, I opened my own damn door and considered how I would sit in such a low-slung vehicle, in this dress, without ripping the seam down my back. Grateful the Mers had stocked the bedroom with micro-thin g-string panties, I gathered the dress around my waist and plopped my essentially naked butt onto the scorching-hot black leather seat.

  “Very lady-like,” Eric criticized.

  “I’m not trying to be a lady; I’m trying to sit comfortably without ripping this skin-tight dress to shreds. Who in the world bought this flimsy piece of crap anyway? Some perverted, internet-porn addicted man-child?” I buckled my seatbelt around my wadded-up dress then adjusted my boobs—again.

  “That would be me,” Eric answered, the tiniest of smirks turning up the corner of his mouth.

  “Your taste lacks class,” I huffed, trying to find a comfortable place to rest my arms while Eric drove crazy-fast with the top down. “Would you ease up on the accelerator, please?”

  “We’re late. The dress will get the necessary job done; your comfort level is irrelevant. If you’re not happy, quit missions.”

  The sun had officially set and a chilling wind whipped through my post-crazy-Queen-Tridia-torture pixie cut. Shivering, I wished I’d brought a jacket. “Not a chance. You’re not going to scare me off.”

  “All you have to do is what you’re told; most importantly, keep your mouth shut. Do exactly what I say, when I say, no questions asked. Are we clear?”

  Nodding, I barely heard him over the engine’s roar and assaulting sounds of traffic. “Where are we going?” I yelled.

  “I said, no questions,” Eric answered, snarling his lips.

  “Seriously? I can’t ask where we’re going?”

  “That falls under the category of a question. No. This mission is top-secret. You only get to know what you’re told.” Blocking me from mental-eavesdropping, Eric didn’t take his eyes from the road.

  A novice, I remained terribly unskilled at telepathy without touching. Though I wasn’t about to reach over and investigate his thoughts. Nope. Besides, I wasn’t sure I wanted to know the ins and outs of Eric’s mind. “But you haven’t told me anything,” I complained.

  “Exactly. Do as you’re told, or I’ll have you thrown off missions so fast your precious little head will spin. Got it?” His face flushed red and he jammed the gearshift into fifth as he accelerated.

  “Fine. Be an ass.” Stewing, I erected my mirrored bubble, giving myself privacy for an internal tantrum of seismic proportions. I may not be able to read his thoughts, but he’d already proven his ability to peruse mine.

  “Keep your telepathic channels open at all times.”

  “After we get there. Until then, my mind is my own. In exchange, I’ll stop asking questions.” I stubbornly crossed my arms over my breasts, which only served to further endanger them to exposure. More internal ranting as I shifted my arms higher, so that my hands rested on the opposite shoulders.

  Eric ground his teeth, the muscles in his jaw working overtime. “One allowance. One. No more.”

  “Got it.” Jackass.

  Within fifteen minutes, we came to a screeching halt in front of an enormous mansion situated on a breathtaking cliff in La Jolla, San Diego. A semi-circle driveway framed the front entrance of a cream and brown stucco house. Palm trees and artistically-perfect landscaping decorated the front yard.

  Fancy. I unbuckled my seatbelt, shifting the wad of fabric in my hand to cover as much of my lower-self as possible.

  “Play your part,” Eric warned, as he eyed the five valet guys eagerly awaiting their next tip.

  “Which is?” I hiked my eyebrows, reaching for the door handle.

  “My adoring girlfriend. Keep your mouth shut and do what you’re told.” Eric’s mesmerizing clear green eyes searched every inch of my face before settling on my lips. “Drop your guard so I can communicate with you.”

  Pushing aside the urge to break his pretty nose for his condescending manner of ordering me, I plastered a huge fake smile across my face. “How’s that?”

  “Don’t try so hard.” Eric’s face transformed. From bitter enemy to warm and friendly lover. I almost believed he liked me—almost. He bared his perfect, bright-white teeth, leaned forward, touched his hand to my shoulder, and gave me a quick peck on the lips before he turned the engine off. I nearly fluttered my eyes. If I didn’t know better, I’d swear he lingered for a split second when our lips touched.

  Ugh. What am I doing?

  “You’re supposed to enjoy that,” Eric thought to me seconds after I burst my mirrored bubble. “Try harder, but not… too hard,” he added with an audible sneer.

  Regaining my composure, and forgetting about the fake kiss, I smoothed my hair, certain my short style now resembled a hedgehog thanks to Eric’s crazy driving.

  A handsome, dark, curly-haired young man of about twenty opened my door and held out his hand for me. Eyeing Eric, I placed my fingers in the valet’s soft, yet slightly clammy, hand. Using his strength for balance, I skillfully managed to pivot and stand, allowing the bundled dress to cascade to its full length without exposing my lady-bits. Score one for me. However, standing and walking with grace in the rubbery five-inch come-screw-me shoes remained another challenge. I glanced over my exposed skin, making sure the device Eric had given me wasn’t some cruel gag. So far, so good.r />
  Confident, Eric exited the Jaguar and straightened his tux. Tossing the keys to the valet, he purposefully made him miss the catch. With an arrogant smirk, Eric strode past the hired help as the poor guy clambered to retrieve the keys.

  The picture of gallantry, Eric offered me his elbow. His devoted girlfriend, I slid my hand under his arm and allowed him to guide me inside the mansion. I thought about Roman kissing me and smiled, ear-to-ear—the only way I would produce a genuine smile tonight.

  As we entered the foyer, the crowd of people parted and several humans swarmed to Eric’s side. Human women. Without a glance in my direction, they practically undressed and slid their naked bodies up and down his leg.

  My arm dutifully tucked in Eric’s, we mingled our way into a huge ballroom, decorated with political banners. Deducing this to be a fundraiser, I mentally filed away the politician’s name. In my former human life, I’d never followed politics.

  Bored yet determined, I respectfully stayed by Eric’s side, but he largely ignored my presence. He introduced me to a few men, calling me Hannah.

  Hannah? Hmm. Does he make this shit up?

  Smiling, I played along—I wouldn’t ruin my first and maybe only chance at missions. This remained my best opportunity to continue some contact with the human world. I’d gone to great butt-kissing, pride-swallowing lengths to gain King Atlas’s support for my going on top-secret missions. I wouldn’t put Poseidia and Atlia, not to mention Laith, at risk by being selfishly stubborn.

  Watching Eric schmooze with the charm of a pro, I couldn’t fathom the mission’s purpose. Eric clearly knew these people well.

  No questions. Fine. Go along with everything and I’ll find out soon enough. But the suspense drove me to distraction.

  “Hannah, dear, would you prefer the usual?” Eric brushed his wrist across my forearm, eventually finding his way to my hand. Gently, he touched his lips seductively to my fingertips as he played doting boyfriend.

  Smiling, I ignored the zing of my electroreceptors, aware my hormonal anatomy remained overly sensitive to any and all touch. And horribly deprived. “Sure,” I answered, batting my eyelashes. The usual what?