“Ricky!” Roxy’s knee jammed into my kidney as she slid into me. “What the fuck are you doing here?”
“That’s my line,” I coughed out. I rolled onto my back, but it wasn’t Roxy’s blue eyes that caught my attention; it was the dark brown eyes framed by copper lashes that were like another kick to my already damaged parts. “Who’s your friend?”
But I already knew the answer.
She was the girl haunting my dreams.
4
Sirena
I knew the minute he recognized me. The moment replayed over and over in my head. The flush of heat to my cheeks, the knots my stomach tied up in. The thrill. The terror. All of it happened instantaneously. Then I tripped over my new feet, bonked my head, and it was over. The world went fuzzy, and Tiki—Critias’ henchworm sent to keep an eye on me—whisked me away before I hit the water and exposed us all.
I dabbed the washcloth at the cut and eyed the monstrous man. How his legs made him grow twice in size still made me gnash my teeth. Really, well over a fathom seemed a waste of human skin.
I scoffed.
Maybe it was Critias’ way of making up for what Tiki lacked in other areas.
Tiki cast a look over his broad shoulder, black eyes heated like lava rocks. “If you want to know so badly, all you have to do is ask for a peek, Sirena.”
My cheeks flushed. Did I say that out loud?
“Maybe you hit your head a little harder than I thought.”
I sank further into the boat’s dining bench. Last thing I needed was Tiki looking at me like I was interested in any part of his skin.
“By the way, it’s over six feet, not a fathom.” Tiki walked over, putting a plate of seaweed and swordfish in front of me. “Eat up.”
“I do not like swordfish or seaweed.” I pushed the plate away, scrunching up my nose at the scent of his cooking.
“I don’t care.” Tiki shoved it back, spilling the contents off the plate. “The seaweed helps keep your skin moist. If you dry out, you can’t transition. You know what that means.” He drew the knife along his neck, smiling.
“Why are you here again?”
“To make sure you follow through and bring Critias the key.” He slid into the bench seat. “You said one of the Martins had the key.”
I nodded, shoving a piece of swordfish in my mouth to help keep my lie hidden. The bonk on the head had loosened up my lips as well.
“Which one?”
“Which one what?”
“Has the key, Sirena.” Tiki landed his elbows hard on the table, making my plate of yuck bounce.
“I do not know.” I lied, wanting more time to wrap my brain around the idea of consuming Rick Martin.
Tiki’s eyes narrowed. “But one of them does.”
I nodded and the henchworm pulled his lips into a jagged fanged smile.
I grabbed the seaweed and shoved it in my mouth, before pushing the plate away. “I am good.” I skidded along the bench, trying to get away. My skin stuck to the seat, pulling as I tried to free myself.
“It’s called vinyl, and it doesn’t like skin. Not ours or theirs,” Tiki chortled as I broke the seal the bench had on my bare legs. I tumbled, nearly hitting my head on the small microwave. I still did not know what that box did, nor did I want to.
“We dive in the morning,” Tiki hollered as I scurried out of the galley and dove off the back of the boat. “Be back on board.”
Cool water washed over me, and I embraced the blast of fire ripping down the backs of my legs signaling my transition. The pain jerked me back and then forward, much like I had seen a human do when they were drowning. The switch from legs to tail wasn’t for the faint of heart. Not when every time you touched salt water your body rebelled and cursed you with a pain so wicked it left you floating in agony.
The sick part of it was you were not even close to being done with the conversion. Shedding your legs was only half the hit, your lungs had to transition, too.
I kicked once, twice, three times before I was deep enough to pull water through my nose and not gag. My legs took the transition with a tolerable amount of pain. My lungs, they were not as happy to be in the water. Critias had warned me too much time on the surface and a siren ran the risk of being left human forever.
Which sounded pretty damn good to me.
I ran my fingers along the backs of my ears, feeling the wiggle of my gills expose themselves. With my transition complete, I broke the surface, getting my bearings. Behind the hotel, beyond the marina, near the jetty, I was far enough away from the boats I would not be spotted. The night fisherman and divers would not be back for hours, and the people who called the boats their home would not be back from the clubs until the wee hours. I cut through the water, relishing the freedom of straddling both worlds.
Down below, I had to watch my tongue, watch my back, fit in, and hide in the shadows.
Up here, I had the endless possibility of being me.
I laid back, watching the stars, and savored the chill bumps the cool air brought on my human skin.
Out of the water, I could mouth off, knee men in the … I searched for the word Roxy called her brother’s male parts.
His balls.
I pushed back under the water, stifling a giggle, and wondered why they were called balls. A pod of dolphins swam near me, circling me until they were content I was not a threat. My heart sank. Unlike mermaids, sirens and minchs were constantly watched. We were the pariahs of the sea. Almost everything under the water made sure we did not come close to hurting a human.
Even the sharks had a better rep than us.
I floated, letting the last of the protective dolphins swim near me. He butted me with his bottlenose, staring me in the eyes as if to say, “We are watching you.” I nodded, staying where I was until the pod was long gone before I surfaced again. I was not wanted below, and I could not belong above.
I was nothing.
The water pulled across my face as I broke the surface. Lights twinkled in the distance, and the twang of a lone bell rang as the tide rocked the harbor full of boats. The calm was deceiving. It was the kind of calm my dad always warned me about. My gills flittered.
“Why did you lie to me, Roxy?”
I sank low into the water, eyeing the jetty.
Roxy navigated the last bits of jagged rock, stopping at the end with her arms crossed. Ricky was right behind her. Even from this distance, I could see the muscles in his arms flex, his hand form tight fists and then relax.
“Rox!” He reached out for her and then pulled his hand back and shoved it into his pocket. “Talk to me.”
“Why?” Roxy kept her focus on the sea. “You don’t listen when I do.”
“Yes, I do.”
Roxanne shot him a look over her shoulder. One that was hard enough Ricky had to step back from the impact. I kicked my tail and glided closer to the rocks.
“Then what have I said for the last year?”
Ricky ran his hand through his hair. The short curly locks seemed to scream at the force of being yanked back before he shoved his hand back in his pocket.
“Exactly,” Roxy muttered.
My heart started. I was too close to the rocks if I could hear her mumble, and Roxy mumbled a lot. She mumbled when I met her that morning. Mumbled when I told her we could not accommodate a dive party her size. It was a lie, I knew she did not have the other half of the medallion, and I was terrified to see the man who did.
“Don’t mumble,” Ricky warned. “Talk to me.” He eased his long muscular body down onto the rocks. Resting his elbows on his knees, he folded his hands under his chin and waited.
Something inside me stirred. I did not know the man, but I suspected he would have waited until the sun came up and set again if that was how long it took for his sister to talk to him.
The crash of the swell on the rocks kept time as silence stretched between the two siblings. I was good at silence. Monica had not spoken to me, really talked to me, since
our father was snagged. I pushed the image of his broken and bloodied body from my mind. Everyone knew he dared the surface because of me.
Because I never fit in.
And he knew it.
“Fine,” Roxy huffed.
I started at her quick movement and pushed the memories of my father back below the surface. “I want to see where she died.”
“Why?”
“You won’t tell me what happened. I almost lost my entire family to the ocean. I want to know why! And if you won’t tell me why, then I at least want to know where.”
“Why?” Ricky parroted. “Why I survived and she didn’t?”
Guilt twisted in my gut.
“No.” Roxy turned and dropped to her knees. “I want to know why all the safety protocols failed. I want to know why the rescue divers didn’t see what was happening. I want to know if there’s something…” Her words trailed off, and I strained to hear the last of her sentence.
“I need closure,” Roxy finally declared, she leaned her forehead on her brother’s arms, and I could see all the hard lines on Ricky’s face soften. He pulled his hand out from underneath her and ran his palm along the long copper strands of her hair. His plump lips moved, and I would have given anything to hear the words he whispered to his sister.
He dropped his head back, staring at the stars like they held an answer for him. I had questions of my own. Like why he had told his sister the ambush had happened in the Keys and not off the waters of Puerto Rico. Did he know the secret lay in the bay of the small island off of Puerto Rico? What did he know of the secret Vieques held? Was that why he lied to his sister?
The questions swirled in my brain as I dove under the water and headed back to the boat. I needed to talk to Ricky Martin and find out just why he had lied and what he actually knew.
I waited at the hotel bar, passing time as I kept an eye out for Ricky Martin and all the answers he held and had not shared, by swirling a ball of ice in my water glass.
The bartender stopped in front of me. Letting a loud breath pass through his nostrils, he looked down his nose at me. A look I was familiar with both below the surface and on top.
He tapped the wood next to my glass. “Last call.”
He must have seen the confused look on my face.
“We’re closing in an hour. If you want another drink, you have to order it now.”
“Oh, okay.”
The man with silver hair shook his head, apparently annoyed was the same on land as it was under the water.
“Thank you,” I called after him as he walked away.
“You’re quite the party animal.”
I jumped in my seat, nearly falling off the barstool at the sound of Ricky’s voice.
“Sorry.” Ricky caught my arm. A burst of warmth exploded from his touch as he righted me back squarely on the seat. “Didn’t mean to give ya a startle.” He smiled, but it did not reach his eyes, and nodded to the seat next to mine. “You mind if I join you?”
I shook my head. “It is a last call.”
Ricky steepled his fingers under his chin, barely shielding a snicker at my expense.
“I figured. It’s two in the morning.” He eyeballed my drink. “Ice ball cocktail?”
When I did not answer, he pointed to my drink, thick blonde eyebrows raised in unison.
“Water.”
“Wild girl, just how I like ‘em.” He flagged down the bartender, but I could not hear anything past the rush of blood in my ears. My palms slickened, and a million tadpoles let lose in my stomach.
A minute later the bartender walked back with a dark-colored drink and a large ball of ice floating in the middle.
“Whiskey.” He tipped his glass in my direction before pulling a sip through his lips. I knew I should not have stared, but I could not help it. Curiosity snaked through me at the thought of what those lips felt like. Were they soft but forceful? Did they feel like the sheets in my tiny bunk sliding along my skin? I loved that new sensation, and if I did not share a boat with Tiki and three other nasty worms, I would have let the sensation venture past my toes and belly.
“You’re blushing?” Ricky mused, leaning back on his barstool with a careless ease. Given our initial meeting, I would have thought careless and ease were two words absent from his vocabulary.
“You normally this chatty?” he continued.
I blinked a million times, realizing how utterly foolish I must have looked, staring at the man, saying nothing and then blushing like I was having … thoughts. A heat blossomed in my gut.
“Sorry, wasn’t sure if you were going to buy me a drink or tackle me again,” I spit out.
“Touché.” His lips tipped up in a crooked smile. “Bartender, another water for the daring lady.”
I snorted.
“There she is. I knew there was a wild woman hiding behind the blush.”
A blush?
Ricky caught my confusion. “Your cheeks, when the redden.” He circled his finger around his cheeks as mine flared up. “There.” He turned that long finger in my direction. “You’re blushing again. That can hit a guy right here.” He tapped his heart.
“Sorry.” I leaned forward, not wanting to hurt him again. Monica always said there were two ways to wound a human man: where he hung and in his heart. I never understood what she meant about where he hung, I had found that out earlier this evening when I had kneed Ricky. I did not want to drop the poor man twice in one night.
“I’m Rick.” He stuck out his hand. “I didn’t catch your name. Or maybe I did, but my scrotum was in my ears.”
Scrotum? My eyebrows drew together. He was speaking English, I was certain of it, but every other word was something I had never heard of before.
“I’m sorry,” he muttered, drawing his hand back. “I’m a total ass tonight. Ask my sister.”
“Roxy called you Ricky.”
“Yeah, but call me Rick.”
My face must have had why written all over it.
“Ricky Martin? My mom had a sense of humor and a thing for the singer.” Rick cast me a sideways glance when I didn’t respond. “Shake Your Bon Bon? Livin’ La Vida Loca? She Bangs?” His crooked smile grew until I did not think the room could handle the brightness. “That’s it, I have to marry you now. You literally are the only person I’ve met who hasn’t laughed at my name.”
“Why would I?”
Ricky leaned forward and smacked a kiss on my cheek. “Wake up Roxy; tell her she’s got a new sister. I’m taking you home.” Rick tossed back the rest of his drink and signaled one more from the bartender.
I rubbed at the warm spot that lingered on my cheek.
After a minute of sweet-talking, the bartender brought over the bottle of brown liquid and poured a generous helping into Rick’s old cup.
“Not a word,” the old man with wiry silver hair cautioned.
Rick peeled off a paper with a twenty on it. Exchanging paper—Tiki called it money—for goods was still new to me. I waited for the bartender to ask for more, but Rick told the guy to keep the change. And the man smiled.
The surface was amazing.
“Your accent…” Rick swirled the liquid around in his glass, casting a look or two in my direction. “What island are you from?”
I blinked again, trying to remember what Tiki had told me to say. It was in my head, on my lips, but there was something about the way Rick looked at me, the way he made my pulse explode in my ears and stole my tongue. Or maybe I had been holding my words for so long I had forgotten how to use them.
“Puerto Rico,” I blurted out and regretted the minute I did.
Rick’s smile fell, the soft lines of his face hardened, and the warm look in his eyes went cold. “Hmm.”
“Vieques, actually. It’s a small—”
“I know where Vieques is.” He cut me off. “It’s a small island off the coast of Puerto Rico. Awesome dive spots and a killer bioluminescent bay.”
My spine straightened. “You kn
ow about our secret?”
Rick leaned forward, his shoulder touching mine both thrilled and terrified me. “Mosquito Bay.” He nudged my shoulder. “I know it well.”
“Have you…” I tried to clear the lump in my throat. “Have you explored the caves?”
Rick shook his head. “No. I was told after we nearly destroyed La Parguera divers and explorers were forbidden to explore it, right?”
“Something like that.” I swallowed hard, studying the bottom of my crystal glass. It was not like that at all. Critias had granted legs to a few key families from below. Those families were tasked with keeping the secret hidden in the caves of Mosquito Bay from being discovered by humans. The lost city of Atlantis and all the treasures and powers it held were hidden from humanity for a reason. They were also kept out of reach from the sirens for that same reason. None of us could be trusted.
This was a dangerous topic for us to venture down. While I had been schooled on the basics of living on the surface, I really did not know how much the humans knew about the caves, Atlantis, or my kind.
“Your sister wasn’t expecting you until tomorrow afternoon.”
Rick studied me and my abrupt subject change a little longer than I was comfortable with. I licked my lips and turned my attention toward the bartender.
“Can I have another water?” I hoped it was not part of the last call. I did not want to leave Rick or our conversation, but I also did not want to dry out. Licking your lips was one of the first signs. You either had to … hydrate or transition.
The bartender came back with a tall bottle of water. He eyed me as he unfastened the metal wire holding the cap and poured some in my glass.
“I’ll leave this here.”
Rick chuckled as the man left. “He doesn’t think you’re going to leave a tip.”
“Should I?”
“No, but don’t worry, I’ve got you covered.” Rick pulled out his money and peeled off another paper. This one a ten.
“Now tell me why Roxy wasn’t expecting me until tomorrow.”
I stared at the money. For all the time I spent dreaming about being on the surface, I really had no idea what living here meant. I would have to find a way to get money. I would need a place to live. I could probably stay at Tres Sirenas; I had heard the some of the freed mermaids were accepting of my kind. Not that many of my kind had escaped Critias’ rule. And all of this uncertainty was contingent on me being able to deliver the man who had just paid my tip with no question to his death. My stomach turned. No wonder Critias was so willing to accept my offer. There was no way he did not win in this wager.
Sirens and Scales Page 402
