by J G Barber
The strong sun and clean wind invigorate Paul’s beach run today. He jogs with the birds flying overhead, with and around him. He spots a sea turtle in the water and slows to watch it swim. As he focuses on the turtle, a waking dream fills his mind’s eye.
Aztlan walks alone on the beach. The circular city-state of Atlantis glistens orange in the setting sun behind him. He scans his surroundings to make sure no one followed him. He continues, arriving at the twin rocks, his secret meeting place.
Diana awaits him, splashing her mermaid tail in the water. She emerges onto the beach, transforming into her human form. They enfold each other in a lovers’ embrace. She removes his clothes with haste as their kisses consume them with a ravenous desire. The lovers express their passion for each other in the wet sand on the beach.
Aztlan and Diana hold each after they finish, aglow in the energy of their connected life forces. He caresses her face and gazes into her emerald green eyes. “Your beauty amazes me. Every time we meet, I feel like my soul has melded with the universe and we are traveling through the stars together.”
Diana’s eyes sparkle with points of light, as if starlight is shining through them. “We are.”
Aztlan feels his heart melting into hers. But his mental curiosity wins out. “Where are your people from?”
She smiles as she reflects on her people’s origins. “We have many stories. Some say in the ancient past, humans arose from our kind. Some of us became enamored with life on the land, longing to run and climb and eat as land creatures do. So they remained on land, learned to drink water to stay hydrated, and forgot how to return to the ocean. Others believe we descended from star beings that came long ago from a water planet. The star beings fell in love with Earth oceans and never returned to their home world. Some even say we were once the gods that primitive humans worshipped. The most lustful and adventurous of our kind mated with the most beautiful and intelligent of the primitive humans, creating your species.”
Her story rekindles his desire. He resumes a gentle rhythm of slow thrusting into her pelvis. “Which story do you believe?”
“Stories entertain me. I do not believe in any of them.” She kisses him. “I know I am a child of the stars. I believe only in love.” They resume their vigorous expression of passion.
Paul slows to a stop. He rests his hands on his knees, taking in the lapping ocean wave as he fights to stay present with what he just experienced. Who are you? he asks himself. What are you trying to tell me? The powerful feelings evoked by the waking dream overwhelm him, stoking the fire of his desire for Monica. His lust surges to a new level of intensity. Paul’s analytical mind squashes any further insight he could have gained from the ancestral memory. He was in love with a siren, I got that. But she was different from the sirens we know. Angelic. She was a peaceful being. What happened? How did they turn into Leucosia and Lorelei?
Anxiety takes over. He heads toward town to look for a distraction. Paul walks along the border of the beach, checking out the waterfront cafes and restaurants. A strong whiff of skunk weed draws his attention. Clouds of smoke rise from a patio on the top floor of one building. Paul scans his surroundings for any threats and then runs up the worn and narrow stairs to the source.
On the patio back at the house, Laura and Ellen follow Alexei’s body movements as they listen to his lecture. “A siren hunter must be able to move like an animal,” he says. “Agility and flexibility are as important as strength. Speed is as important as endurance. When the moment comes, you must kill without hesitation.”
For a man his age, Alexei practices what he preaches. His body is lithe, lean, and strong. The sisters strain to keep up with him. Laura’s pregnant belly is her obstacle. Ellen’s excess weight is hers. He leads them through a complete set of body movements that stretch them, neck to feet, strengthening their legs and cores.
Seeing that they’ve pushed themselves to their limit, he calls it. “Good session for today. It will take you some time to develop your fitness.”
Ellen collapses on the couch, breathing hard. “That’s it. I’m losing all this weight.”
“Right on, sister.” Laura fist-bumps her and then follows her onto the couch to catch her breath. “Remember how beautiful you used to be?”
Ellen looks at her sideways. “Used to be?”
“I mean physically.” Laura traces Ellen’s figure with her fingers. “You know. Hot bod and all that.”
Ellen slaps her hands away. “I want to be strong. Who cares about having a hot bod?”
“Sirens.” Laura grabs her shirt. “Okay then, you’ve come to the right place. We will whip your ass into shape, bitch! And teach you how to fight like Israeli Special Forces.”
Ellen grins. “Krav Maga. Bring it.” She exchanges another fist bump with Laura.
As she got to know Alexei, Laura learned he earned a black belt in Krav Maga. during the years he spent siren hunting with Robert and Dutch. The sisters couldn’t ask for a better instructor, or a more perfect time to learn. The sisters embrace the moment. Their relationship just moved into new territory that will strengthen them, as women and as warriors.
A tall and imposing Mexican man stops Paul at the top of the narrow stairs. “¿Policia?”
Paul observes the restaurant patrons smoking out in the sun. The smell overpowers him. He notices the patrons carry weapons. “Expatriado,” Paul replies.
The man motions for Paul to flip up his sunglasses. He watches Paul’s eyes as he speaks. “¿DEA?”
Paul shakes his head. “Siren hunter. Un buscador de las sirenas.”
The man smiles ear-to-ear. “Ah, sí. ¡Viva las sirenas! ¿Vive en la isla con ellas?”
Paul considers what his question means. The man knows about siren island. Paul considers where he is and how the locals might feel about the sirens. Best if he says they’re his friends. “No. Tengo algunas amigas allá.”
The man nods. Paul passed the test. He shoots Paul a very serious look. “Este es un club especial. Hay dos reglas. No le digas a nadie sobre este club. El cartel vendrá a buscarte si lo haces. No le digas el nombre de nadie. ¿Entiendes?”
Paul nods. Yes, I understand. And don’t worry, this is my new personal secret. I’m not telling anyone about this place. I’m not telling anyone my name and I don’t want to know theirs.
“Si, te entiendo.” Paul flips his sunglasses down.
“Ingresa en la casa de mota, señor. Buen provecho.” The man motions Paul through the door.
The patio provides a 270-degree view, with chairs and drink tables placed to give patrons an unobstructed view of the ocean. Paul walks up to the bar, placed in the patio area where other buildings obstruct the view. Without asking, the bartender pours him a five-fingers glass of blanca tequila and slides him a plate with a lighter and a two gram joint.
“Cuanto?” Paul asks.
The bartender opens his hand. “Quinientos. Estas son las mejores. Usted no se decepcionará.”
For twenty-five bucks, I’d better not be disappointed. Paul counts out five 100 peso bills, and one more for the waiter’s tip.
“Gracias.” Paul takes his purchase and makes his way to an open chair with a side table, overlooking the ocean. He takes a seat and studies his purchase. Holy shit, those are large portions. I’m gonna get wasted!
Paul lights up, alternating sips and drags until they hit. As the familiar sensations split his brain open and set his head on fire, the colors and sounds and smells of the ocean consume his senses, distracting him from all thoughts of Atlantis, fatherhood, sirens, spousal rejection, and his rekindled desire for Monica.
On the opposite end of the patio, two men study Paul. They wear identical pairs of sunglasses and the same cartel black and brown outfits Lorelei’s bodyguards wore. “Él es de quien nos habló,” the man on the right says to his partner.
I am the one, Paul tells himself, not realizing he overheard the two men talking about him.
“We need a better plan.” Laura looks t
o Ellen first, who’s still recovering next to her on the couch, then Alexei, who’s standing in front of them, stretching his muscles after their workout. “I’m bringing my son into this crazy life or ours. I can’t carry him around with us everywhere we go.”
“You brought me here to help,” Ellen says. “But I’ll tell you sister, I’m not doing this all by myself. You need to hire a nanny. You should be able to find one for cheap in this town.”
Laura stands. “What if we die?”
“What?” Ellen gets up off the couch. “Laura, you never said dying was part of the deal.”
Alexei wraps a comforting arm around Ellen’s shoulder. “Laura is right to make preparations.”
Ellen waits for the wave of emotion to pass before speaking. “If you die, Laura, I’ll take care of Jason. Hell, I’m already his aunt, anyway. I’ll take good care of him.”
Laura stands next to Alexei. “What if we all die?”
“I didn’t come here to die.” Ellen grabs both of them by their shirts. “You’re both going to teach me how to kill those bitches.”
Laura pulls away. She strolls around the room as she considers their situation and what to do about it. “I like it here. I think I’m okay with Jason growing up in Mexico. We need to arrange for an adoptive family.”
“I’ll look into it.” Alexei disappears into his bedroom to start the search.
“And I’ll become a badass master of Icelandic sorcery and Krav Maga, so you won’t need to exercise that option,” Ellen says with a fierceness Laura has never heard from her before.
“Coming here has been good for you, sis. Thank you.” Laura takes Ellen into her arms in a heartfelt hug.
Ellen blinks away tears, moved by their moment of sister-love. “Love conquers all, right?”
Paul drinks in the orange-blue liquid light of the sunset as the patrons exit the patio. They’re headed to the clubs, he speculates. In a matter of minutes, he’s the last man sitting. He takes the cue and heads for the door where the man who greeted him remains. “¿Tu nombre?” Paul asks.
The man looks around to make sure no one heard Paul. “Recorder las reglas, señor.”
Yeah, the rules. Gotta follow the fucking rules. Paul acknowledges the man’s genuine discomfort. “Si. Perdóname.”
The man looks around one more time. He relaxes when he sees there is no one left to listen. “Soy Hector.”
“Pablo.” Paul shakes his hand. “Muchas gracias. Yo volveré pronto.” He opens his wallet and hands Hector a hundred peso bill. Hector grins and stuffs it in his pocket as Paul descends the stairs.
The ocean breeze kisses Paul’s skin as he walks the sidewalk along the edge of the beach. His high shifts into a pensive phase. Monica enters his mind. How on Earth do I deal with this? Two sons. A house full of siren hunters and an island full of sirens. All in the middle of cartel country. As soon as I tell them about the island, they will want to go after them. I know! I’ll retire from siren hunting. I’ll just run on the beach every day, finish off the day with tequila y mota, and sleep like a baby every night. Yeah, but then there’s that father thing. I’m the fucking father of two children. With two different women. Except one of them is not a normal woman anymore. “Shit!”
He takes off his shoes and walks onto the sand, listening to the soft crashing of the ocean waves. He feels the grounding effect of the Earth radiate up from his toes to his head and back down again, pulling the anxiety out of his mind and body. As he walks down the beach back towards the house, a moment of perfect clarity flows over him. OK. I’ll accept Lorelei’s invitation.
Chapter Six
Paul’s still high when he arrives home, but walking in the sand grounded him. He’s back to normal enough that he hopes they won’t detect. He stows his running shoes and joins Laura and Ellen in the living room. Paul salutes to Alexei as he smokes a Sobranie on the patio.
Laura knows something’s up. “Where have you been?”
He heads for the kitchen. “Out for a run. Stopped at a bar afterward.”
“Of course you did.” Laura gets up off the couch to pursue Paul.
Ellen continues reading her Kindle. Alexei re-enters the house as his housemates gather in the kitchen. He rarely says no to a meal. His fitness regime and body ripped with lean muscle help him burn it off.
Laura studies Paul as he prepares the tostadas.. “Make me one.” She checks his eyes. “What kind of bar?”
“It was great.” Paul lays out the ingredients on the kitchen island so he can face everyone. “Rooftop patio overlooking the ocean. Great service. Best tequila I’ve ever had.”
“What else did you have?” Laura asks.
Seeing her escalating suspicion, Paul can only think of one way to dodge the verbal bullet before she fires it. “I know where the sirens are.” That gets Ellen off the couch. Everyone circles around the kitchen island. Paul continues as he chops up veggies. “I ran into Monica. And her four armed guards. These guys were scary. She said they were with the Cartel Nuevo Ciglo.”
“As in drug cartel?” Ellen grabs a container of yogurt from the fridge.
Paul nods. “I told the doorman at the bar I’m looking for sirens. He asked me if I lived with the sirens on the island.”
Alexei retrieves his map. He lays it out on the dining area table and draws a route the coast with his finger. “They are here. Off the coast of Barra de Potosí. A small fishing village south of here. Half an hour by car.”
Paul sprinkles chopped onions and garlic over a pan of beans and sets it on the stove to cook. “We should rent a speedboat. In case we need a quick escape.”
“Are you up for this?” Ellen asks Laura between spoons full of yogurt.
Laura dips a finger in Ellen’s yogurt as she checks out the map. “Are you kidding? We’re heading out in the morning.”
Paul prepares three plates of tostadas. “Laura, you’re staying here.”
Laura leans over the counter to get in Paul’s face. “You actually believe you’re telling me what to do here?”
Paul looks to Ellen and Alexei to support his point of view. Alexei responds by folding up the map and stowing it. Ellen sits at the table with her yogurt. Accepting he will not win this round, Paul sets the tostadas on the table. The siren hunters sit together and eat in silence.
Leucosia awakens with Monica in her arms and Paul’s face in her mind’s eye after another night of recurring dreams. Paul’s face dissolves into the face of the Serpent Goddess, the statuette from their Whidbey Island mansion, which now lives in the bedroom she shares with their most ancient and valued art pieces, Monica and Lorelei, and whichever siren sister they desired from the night before. This morning, it’s only them.
Ever since their arrival at the island, fragments her life in Atlantis have haunted Leucosia’s dreams. The lovely face of her Sirenian mother. Diana’s friendship with a human man, Aztlan. Her gossip’s capture by the dark Atlanteans when she was young. The sexual violations and experiments on her in the labs. Her abrupt escaped aided by Aztlan, at the cost of his life. She has not revealed what her dreams contain.
Monica stirs in bed. She sees Leucosia’s suffering, and attempts to ease it with a kiss. “Good morning, my love,” she says in Lorelei’s voice.
Leucosia kisses her back, but her discomfort remains. She sits up in bed. “I have still not adjusted to your new form. Two Sirenian spirits, both of whom I love dearly, in one body. The feelings overwhelm me. How is it for you, sister Monica, sharing your human experience with Lorelei?”
Monica slides out of bed and stands next to Leucosia, displaying her pregnant body. “Our minds and hearts are united. Only the differences in our personalities and memories that create any separation. And I have learned so much from Lorelei’s memories. Great Mother has blessed me.”
“Shall we call you by a hyphenate name as the humans do with their celebrities?” Leucosia teases. “Mon-Lo? Lorica?” Monica cringes. “Monica-Lorelei then.” Monica-Lorelei responds with a sideway
s look and a scowl. Leucosia rubs her belly. “How is our son today?”
“I feel his heart beating,” Lorelei says. “He has the heart of a true Sirenian.”
“Great Mother has blessed us.” Leucosia withdraws her hand and stands to looks out on the ocean. “What is your plan for the hunters?”
Monica-Lorelei stands by her side, tuning into the ocean and opening up to her clairsentience. “I sense they will come calling soon enough. We will introduce them to our new employees.” Lorelei’s gift of claircognizance kicks in. “We will win Paul over.”
Leucosia recalls Paul’s face staring back at her when she awoke. For the first time, she notices an empathic connection to him. She can feel war inside him, as he struggles to integrate his humanity with his Atlantean ancestry and the calling of his Sirenian genes. “Be careful. He is conflicted. His Sirenian gene makes him loyal for a human. He will defend his wife and son, and their friends.”
Lorelei stands certain in her knowing. “His desire for us has not waned. I felt it in his presence. No doubt his wife has grown cold in Erik’s shadow. He will transfer his desire and his loyalty to us.”
Leucosia takes Monica-Lorelei’s hands and locks eyes with her. “Lorelei, heed my caution. You were wrong about him in Seattle. We will not take chances with our resurrection.”
“I was absolutely right about him in Seattle!” Lorelei declares. A look from Leucosia challenges her assertion. “Look at all we have accomplished. Paul was the key to it all. Yes, I underestimated the strength of his will. But that was not a failure, as Paul lives on to join us today and gift all seven of us with children.”
“You never considered that he would access his ancestry!” Leucosia turns away. “Paul embodies the Atlantean gene. He is a threat.”
“You embody the Atlantean gene. Are you a threat to us?” Monica-Lorelei turns Leucosia to face her. “Make no mistake. It was I that brought us this far! It was I that made the Sirenian resurrection possible!”
Leucosia pulls away from her. Lorelei’s arrogance subsides as she sees the deep pain and grief in her eyes. “With all due respect to you, my Queen. Your love and your strength fueled my accomplishments.”
