by Lucia Ashta
“I had no reason to. I only just met you.”
“And he’s your nephew to protect.”
“Of course. There’s that too. And it’s the reason why I’m not going to tell ya a thing now either.”
Nessa smiled, and it was both regretful and triumphant. “There’s no need. I already know. The eyes reveal everything the person is reluctant to say.”
Irving ceased his pacing and squared his shoulders as if to face an invisible foe. “Yes, I’ve found that to be the case. If y’already know, fine. But ya can’t say anything about it to anyone outside of this circle, and ya have to promise. All of you do.”
“And what of Naomi?” Fianna asked. “You trust the witch. Oh.”
“Right, I’ve had to—”
“For her to be able to complete the protective wards and include him in their protection.”
Irving nodded.
Fianna frowned at the witch. “You know, I think witches do that on purpose, to learn everyone’s little secrets.”
Naomi’s mauve lips spread into a wicked grin. “Every witch has to have her secrets.”
“And as many of everyone else’s as they can get their greedy hands on.”
Naomi didn’t apologize. “We deal in power, as, might I add, do the fairies.”
Fianna didn’t say anything. They’d reached an impasse, and the grandfather clock on the wall was counting down the approach of my faceless enemies.
Quinn’s eyes were swimming with emotion, which meant he either knew what this big secret was, or he suspected.
Nessa said, “We fairies promise not to reveal the secret of Quinn’s … makeup, shall we say? And we fairies keep our promises.” Nessa’s chest swelled in pride.
My breath caught in my chest, and I forgot that I was weak from whatever happened. Alertness swept across my body, leaving it tight. I trained my eyes on Quinn, who struggled to meet mine, as he stared at where his hand touched my leg.
Whatever this secret was, it was big.
“Quinn here is also a hybrid,” said Nessa. “Just like Selene.”
12
I gasped so violently that I choked. “What?” I finally managed to croak out while waving Nessa away so I’d have some space to choke in peace.
No one bothered repeating what Nessa said. We’d all heard her.
Quinn finally met my eyes, which watered from the air I’d sucked down the wrong pipe. “It’s true,” he said.
“Why do you sound so sad when you say it?” There were far more useful questions, but his lament was terribly heavy.
He opened his mouth to answer, but didn’t seem to know what to say. “I just … I don’t know. It hasn’t been easy.” He shrugged and looked away, once more unwilling to meet my probing gaze.
“Well, I definitely understand ‘not easy.’ Nothing is easy when you’re different.”
“Not different in a bad way, remember?” Nessa said. “Special is good.”
But neither Quinn nor I did anything to agree. I’d wished I was just like the other sirens a million times at least, and like one of the mermaids a thousand times. I’d been willing to give up the power of my song if only it meant I wouldn’t have to be the odd one out for once.
“Yes, well, we don’t need to focus on any of this now,” Irving said, his tone firm and urgent, setting nerves aflutter in my chest all over again. “No one needs to know any more details about Quinn unless they directly pertain to our surviving the day.”
My heart rate picked up. The shifter didn’t sound as hopeful as I would have liked.
“Sure, I get it,” Fianna said, “but it seems you’ve already forgotten what just went down in your desire to protect your nephew.” Irving’s bushy mustache twitched. “Naomi’s magic, while not directed at the girl or boy, almost killed her. And there’s no denying there’s some kind of connection between the two of them. You say they just met, and yet look at them.”
Five heads swiveled in our direction.
“They can’t stand to be apart from each other already,” Fianna said.
I fiddled with my short skirt, tugging it down my thighs, while Quinn pulled his hand away from my leg. Our closeness was my fault. I was weak, just as I’d always been, and Quinn responded to my weakness. His instinct was to protect, not to connect.
“Of course they can be apart,” Irving said. “Don’t be ridiculous. Selene only arrived a couple of hours ago.”
When Quinn didn’t rise from the couch to prove his uncle’s point, and I did nothing to encourage it, a cloud swept across Irving’s stormy eyes. “Well, anyway, what does any of that have to do with those hunting Selene?” But I could tell Irving hadn’t actually dismissed Fianna’s point, he only behaved as if he had. “The matter is urgent, dammit,” he barked.
“Which is precisely why we need to understand what we’re dealing with,” Nessa said with the patience of a scholar no one else possessed. “Their connection is obviously unnatural.”
“Unnatural?” Quinn protested.
Nessa waved her tiny hand unconcernedly and touched down on the table next to the fairies’ abandoned teacups. “Special. An uncommon connection.” She batted her eyelashes, blinking cerulean eyes at Quinn. “Now that we’ve discovered you’re both special, and Naomi’s magic almost killed Selene, though you were there to save her from it, we can’t dismiss the power of your connection.”
“That’s assuming there even is any kind of power from this … connection,” Irving said, and Nessa pointed a “come-on” look at him.
“Your nephew’s connected to this girl. Deal with it,” she said.
“But if that’s the case, it would put him in danger.”
“Perhaps. Or it could be the exact opposite. You know as well as we do that powers combine in unusual ways. There’s never been a sirangel before, and this one isn’t activated. She has no clue about the extent of her powers, no idea what she’s capable of. It’s only just beginning for her. Heck, she doesn’t even know how to fly yet, let alone access whatever powers she might’ve inherited from her father. From the looks of her, she probably doesn’t even know what she can do with her siren magic.”
I plastered an offended look on my face, even though everything she said was absolutely true.
Nessa didn’t even bother looking at me. “What about the boy? Does he have access to the full range of his powers?”
“I don’t,” Quinn answered, before Irving could speak for him. “Uncle has forbidden it.” The bitterness of the denial was blatant.
Fianna moved next to Nessa on the table across from the couch to join her in staring at us—up close and personal—while Irving tilted his chin upward. “I did what I had to do to protect ya, child. If ya’d activated your full powers, the hunters would’ve arrived ages ago, and then what would be of ya?”
“I don’t even know what kind of hybrid I am.”
I gasped and spun to face Quinn.
“Yeah, I know,” Quinn said, heat blazing in his eyes, making the different colors in his irises dance. “I don’t even know what brand of freak I am.”
“Q!” Irving said.
He was as bitter as a lime. “Whatever, Uncle. I get it, same as I always have. Protect poor, strange Q. I’m used to it. Don’t you worry.”
Irving fumed, but I didn’t think at Quinn’s outburst. No, they’d been through this many times before.
“Jeez, the drama,” Naomi said, though her greedy smirk indicated that she loved it, probably fed on the misery of others. “Snap to, creatures. Vamps and shifters are on their way, possibly with a whole horde of minions.”
“Right,” Fianna said. “Until we figure things out better, we should probably separate the girl and the boy.”
My breath hitched painfully. Quinn tensed and slid closer to me under the guise of adjusting his position on the couch. The entirety of his leg pressed against mine, and I wished his pants weren’t in the way of feeling his skin.
“I need to help protect Selene,” he said, and e
very part inside of me sang out in agreement.
“Those hunters are coming for a new hybrid, not specifically Selene,” Irving said. “Sure, they’ll go into power lust when they discover she’s a sirangel, but they won’t leave you behind. Ya’ll be valuable to them too.”
“I don’t care.”
“I do, and ya’ll do what I say.”
“The days of you barking orders at me are over. I’m eighteen, and so is she. That’s majority of age for all shifters, even the ‘special’ ones like us. I’m staying with Selene, and that’s the end of the discussion.”
Breath flowed easily again. It was true, our connection was unnatural—magical. It made no sense that I should panic at the thought of this near stranger leaving my side.
“You’re one of a kind too, son, just as much as she is,” Irving persisted. “The hunters will want ya too.”
Quinn stiffened. “You never told me that, and I’m not your son, or you wouldn’t have kept something so big from me.”
Irving’s nostrils flared like an animal’s, and again I found myself desperate to figure out what he shifted into. “You’re just like a son, dammit. Now get your head out of your arse and listen to me. There’s no other hybrid out there like ya.”
“Well, I guess I’ll have to take your word for it since I don’t even know what the hell I am.”
“How could he not know?” Fianna asked Nessa, and Quinn whipped his head toward her. “Selene and I are right here. You don’t have to keep talking about us like we belong in some lab tank. I don’t know because Uncle never told me. Nor did he allow me to figure it out on my own. I’ve been a prisoner of this house.”
Irving chuffed. “Ya have not.”
“Fine, of this house and the yard.”
“I own fifty acres for you to roam. That’s not exactly confining, now is it?”
“Again with the drama…” Naomi said. “At this rate, you’ll be all trussed up and waiting for the hunters coming your way. They’re almost upon us.”
Irving nodded quickly. “Q, this is no time to argue. You head out into the woods, as far from here as ya can get. Naomi’s wards extend that far.” Irving looked to the witch for confirmation and she nodded. “You’ll be safer the farther away from Selene ya get. The hunters won’t go looking for you in the woods.”
“And what of Selene?” Quinn asked.
“We’ll all protect her, obviously.”
“You have no idea what’s coming or how many. Naomi and the fairies don’t owe her any loyalty. Neither do you, by the way.”
“I owe her a duty. Mulunu’s called in a debt, and I intend to pay up.” When Quinn just stared at him, he added, “If anything to get the old bag off my back. Nobody wants to owe a sea witch like Mulunu a damn thing. I’ve been waiting ten years for her to collect.”
“Ten years?” Quinn asked. “Does she have anything to do with—?”
“Enough with the questions. You get the hell out of here, ya hear me?” Irving stomped across the room and stopped in front of us, on the other side of the table. His entire face quivered beneath his beard. He was afraid—not for himself but for Quinn.
“Uncle—”
“You’re fast. You run as far as ya can get, and you don’t come back no matter what ya hear or see, you got me?”
“I won’t leave Selene. You talk of this connection we have—”
“I haven’t said a word about it. It’s been everyone else muddying the waters. You need to get out before it’s too late.”
Quinn looked to me, those multi-colored eyes that ranged from yellow to green to blue meeting my own. “I can’t.”
“Of course ya can,” Irving roared. “Get your butt in motion, boy.”
“No, you don’t understand me, I can’t. I have to be here to help her. I can’t explain it, but I feel it.”
I nodded slowly. I felt it too, though I didn’t understand it any better than he appeared to.
Fianna flew to hover above our forgotten teacups. “You have to go, Quinn. If you stay, and Selene’s in danger, her magic will likely flare, and remember that we have no idea what the powers of a sirangel might do. Your magic will almost certainly come to the surface to protect her since something binds you two together. Your magic is as unexplored and potentially unstable as hers. We’ve already seen what happens when a witch’s magic interferes with her powers. Under attack, what if one of your powers hurts the other? You won’t know how to control yourselves.” The red-haired fairy paused for effect, her wings buzzing quietly behind her. “What if one of you kills the other?”
My breath caught and I brought a hand to my chest, my heart thumping beneath my touch. “We can’t risk that, not for anything.”
“And if I leave and something hurts or kills you because I’m not here to protect you?” Quinn asked. He didn’t appear embarrassed at the sentiment no matter that we’d just met. He must feel the connection as strongly as I did.
“If I accidentally kill you, I’ll never forgive myself, and you don’t want me to live with that burden.”
“Just as you don’t want me to live with the burden of leaving and having something happen to you.” he said.
“Enough with the googly eyes,” Naomi snapped. “Quinn, you take that pretty behind of yours and make it move so fast it blurs. Selene, you stick close to me. I’ll make sure you two meet again and all that sticky nonsense.”
Neither Quinn nor I moved.
“Now!” she barked, making me jump. “They’re almost here. I can feel them approaching. If they find out there are two one-of-a-kind hybrids here, you’ll make their decade. If they discover the hybrids are connected someway, they won’t just drain you of your powers, they won’t stop until they’ve figured out what makes you tick, and what happens when you tick together. They’ll push you until you’re as dead and heartless as they are, do you hear me?”
Of course I did; she was practically yelling. I nodded, unable to say a word, and Quinn squeezed my hand. His was so much warmer than mine, so reassuring.
“Go!” Naomi roared again, while Fianna nodded her agreement, her red head bopping. Nessa fussed with her skirt, her little brows drawn and her mouth puckered in worry.
Irving clapped a hand to Quinn’s shoulder. “Come back in one piece, ya hear me, my boy? I’ll call for ya. You know how.”
Quinn nodded, and his eyes that dripped with concern met mine one last time. I wanted to freeze that moment forever. I trailed a desperate gaze across every one of his features, working to memorize the precise slant of his eyebrows, cheeks, and lips. The width of his shoulders, the exact temperature of his skin, the shade of his dark hair. I tried to make sense of the many colors that swirled in his irises, to coalesce them into a single color I could hold on to.
But Irving grabbed his free hand and yanked him up off the couch. Quinn’s hand slipped from mine and I experienced his absence as a physical pain that carved a jagged path all the way from my hand to my heart. Irving shoved him across the floor, toward the back door, while Quinn craned his neck to look at me.
Then, with a swoosh of the sliding-glass door, the only person who’d helped me feel safe was gone.
“Prepare yourselves,” Naomi said. “They’re nearly upon us.”
I could barely breathe.
13
“They’re not nearly upon us. They’re here!” Fianna shouted. “Call the kid back, old man. There’s no time for him to hide where they won’t find him.”
Panic swept across Irving as it did me, but the “old man” got right to it, shoving the sliding-glass door back open and racing outside with all the agility and strength of youth.
I didn’t know what to do to help. I launched myself to standing, tore at my wings, winced at the sting of it, but then had nothing to do but fidget and frantically scan the room.
The fairies were speaking among themselves, intent on preparing our defense, I hoped, and Naomi had already ignited her powers. A bright green glow surrounded her; sparks the vibran
t color of moss crackled across her skin. “Come on, come on,” she muttered.
Breathing became difficult as the moments stretched and neither Irving nor Quinn returned.
“Petunia,” Naomi scolded, looking at nothing in particular. “Get your furry butt over here right now.”
I gaped at the crazy witch. There was no one with a furry butt around.
“Please,” she added, when I hadn’t believed she was familiar with the word, still speaking to the empty air in front of her.
But then the time to figure out the witch and what she could possibly be doing ended with a bang.
A force as strong as the ocean itself pounded against the house. Walls and ceiling thumped. I sucked in a breath and waited to see if it’d all fall in around us.
The house expanded back outward with a terrifying groan and the glass in every window in the sitting room shattered. Glass shards flew everywhere, both inside and out, in an explosion that set my ears to ringing.
I crouched and partially shielded myself with the tea table, spreading my wings along the skin of my back, mostly bare around my sleeveless crop top, to protect it. The teacups rattled and wobbled in large arcs upon their saucers, and the cream pitcher imploded, launching large shards of porcelain and splatters of cream at me.
I screamed, sure no one would hear me over the din, and yanked a wedge-shaped piece of pitcher from my forearm like it was on fire and I had to get it out fast. I couldn’t give myself time to think on it or I’d freak out. The porcelain shard was thick and left a deep, bleeding gash the size of my pinky finger. I grabbed one of the fairies’ discarded cloth napkins, only slightly damp after they’d toweled off following their baths, wrapped it around my forearm and tied it tight with my teeth. There, that was all I could do, and I was certain it was to be the least of my problems.
I felt the next attack coming as if the undertow of the sea were sucking back only to crest forward with more force. I whimpered and curled into the smallest shape I could, wrapping my wings around myself to also encompass most of my bare legs. Maybe that wasn’t smart; maybe the next blast would rent my wings from my back. But cocooned inside my wings I was able to pretend that I wasn’t in a nightmare. Thrust on land against my will, I was under attack, and the only good point to come of all of it was somewhere outside, probably fighting for his life along with Irving … if he’d managed to survive the initial onslaught of the hunters’ magic that was strong enough to rattle a house.
