When she’d walked up to him & announced she was a mermaid, he’d responded that she looked like neither Darryl Hannah nor Ariel. A furrowed brow and cocked head were her only response. As the silence had stretched, with her mouth twisting into a small frown, he’d found himself compelled to break the silence.

That had been a mistake too, he thought, sipping his effervescent bitters. He should have ignored anyone weird enough to tell a complete stranger her delusions of fishiness, but he had hoped it was simply a unique come-on. And when he was incapable of ignoring, he should have bolted away from anyone who didn’t know some very mainstream mermaid references.

But, no. He’d been entranced from the moment he’d laid eyes on her a half an hour or more before she had approached him. He had always had trouble with approaching attractive people, so he’d been drinking his smoky usual while working up his nerve. When she’d approached him, his heart had started pounding. He’d wanted to believe she was about to come on to him while simultaneously being certain she was going to throw that pink drink in his face, because she’d noticed him checking her out.

Indeed, that her first words were about her previously-tailed existence were shocking, but almost more for his relief for not being drenched than anything else. Then his mouth had fired off that wise-assery about her looks before his brain could disengage from paralysis.

“Apologies. Anyway, with that strawberry-blonde hair, you do kind of look more like both of them than neither.”

Remembering he’d actually said that, he slammed back the rest of his drink and hauled himself out of his chair to mix up another.

Somehow, despite his complete incapacity with words, she’d still wanted to go home with him. She’d given him a lingering kiss that tasted of the sea and excused herself to the bathroom to freshen up before they’d left.

While she was in the bathroom, his favorite bartender, Megan, had tried to tell him to “avoid that one”. Something about her going home with regulars who then never came back. He’d blown Megan off completely.

The sex had been mindblowing. He cursed the erection that came just thinking about that evening, and slammed back the next drink. He loved and hated this drink, but it was the only alcohol he could keep down anymore. And he was looking to get alcohol poisoning. Or at least good and drunk for the night.

He’d first had it two nights after he’d taken the mermaid home. He’d sauntered back into his local full of puffed up pride and pulled up a stool. Megan nodded to him as she served another customer. He’d been so sure he’d shown her.

Then she’d placed a drink in front of him and said it was on the house. He stared in shock at its vibrant color. So… pink. When he looked up at her to ask what the hell was going on, she cut him off.

“You were doomed after you ordered your second ‘Sea Smoke,’ Mikey.”

“I haven’t even had my first one! What the hell is this girly bullshit??”

Megan shook her head, saying, “This is the only thing you’ll drink again. And I don’t mean your second tonight, hon. I mean your second ever.”

“What the fuck?? Megan, you’ve gone looney. I’m not doomed. I’m great! I’m even back here tonight, which you said I wouldn’t be!”

Megan poured a double shot of cheap gin, and then slammed it back before saying, “Yeah. You’re the only one who’s ever come back. And I’m not sure if it’s a good thing. Now you’ll know your doom. The others had to find it out the hard way.

“She owns the place. It’s her hunting ground.”

“If that’s what being hunted is like, she can chase me down anytime!” Mikey leered.

He noticed Megan was eyeing the gin again. She didn’t pour anything, though. Simply pushed his glass toward him and said, “Maybe you should have a taste of your drink before you say anything else.”

Pride flared in him. He grabbed the glass and noticed an odd flash of silver. He didn’t think much of it until he was about halfway through his drink. That’s when he’d noticed his hand was silvering and looked a bit like snakeskin. In horror, he dropped the glass.

Ignoring the shards and sticky booze seeping around him, he stared at his hand and whispered, “What the fuck?”

“It’s her hunting ground, Mikey. The ‘Sea Smoke’ is her bait. Almost no one likes it. We barely stock enough stuff to make it. Most people reject it out of hand. A few manage to finish it, but almost no one orders a second. If you do, you’re marked for her.”

“What’s happening??”

“She’s a mermaid, Mikey. The rules say she has to warn you of that, and she did. Not her fault you didn’t believe her. If you don’t fuck her, she can’t have you and can’t ever try again. But if you do, you’re hers.

This strawberry drink is her sustenance on land. It’ll be yours too, now. Good thing, though, you live so close to the beach. When the time comes, you might even make it to the water.”

Hearing those words ring through his head, he looked at his now-empty glass. He dropped it and walked out. He didn’t know if the time was now. But he was going anyway.

Curious about the cocktails? Click here to get the recipes!