“Close.”
“Fine.” She gave up without a fight. “I won’t lie to you either. Happy?”
“Not until we’re on dry land.”
“Not until we’ve got Texas tumbleweeds threating to take us out, you mean.”
“No tumbleweed ever killed a man. Maimed. Injured. Maybe. But never killed.”
I felt Roxy’s argument deflate with her breath.
“Rick, you think there’ll ever come a time when you tell me where Mom died?”
My gut clenched.
“One day I’d like to see the spot. Say goodbye.” Her voice wavered. “Like I said last night, the not knowing is the thing that’s hurting me the most. You know what I mean?”
I didn’t answer. Not even a hint of a movement.
Thing was, I did.
I totally knew what she meant. I also knew that tomb of regret was a dark place, and I’d barely survived it the last time I’d lost my way in that cave.
We sat on the observation deck until the sun started to slip into the ocean to the west. The bright blue skies turned purple and pink, with wisps of white clouds refusing to let go of the day. The sway of the boat rocked us until I felt the last bit of fight drain from Roxy’s arms and sleep carried her away. I carefully extracted myself from underneath her, gently laying her head on the deck pillow and covering her with my dry towel.
She shifted, pulling her hand up under her chin like she’d done when she was a baby. When Mom had tasked a four-year-old to watch over his baby sister, even when Mom was long gone and the baby was a woman. It’d been easy to pick up the banner then; these days, though, that banner was getting heavier and heavier to carry.
I jumped at the cool hand sliding to rest on my shoulders. Spinning around and grabbing the wrist, I shook the body it was attached to with one hand while the other cocked back, ready to take out the assailant.
“Sirena?” I hissed. “What are you doing?”
She shook in my hands as I pulled her into me. Her cold palms splayed against my chest as I wrapped her up in my arms—the movement so odd and yet so right, my whole body reacted.
“Lo siento. I’m sorry,” She pushed, and I pulled her in tighter. “I didn’t mean to—”
“Stop. I’m sorry. My fault.” I tilted her face up toward me and felt my knees—my soul—give. “I wasn’t expecting ... Shit, neither were you.”
Sirena’s grip on my chest tightened a second before she pushed away, and I let her. “I shouldn’t have touched you,” she whispered, pointing toward the bench where Roxy was asleep. “I just … I just didn’t want to wake your sister up.” Sirena turned and scurried for the stairs.
“Was there something you wanted?”
“Yes, sorry. Dinner is ready.” Sirena hurried—taking the stairs two at time—she left as quickly and quietly as she’d come.
I rubbed at the place on my shoulder where she’d first touched me, feeling my pulse pick up as the heat of her touch lingered.
“Did I hear dinner’s ready?”
I chuckled. “Yeah, should’ve known a dinner bell was the only thing that could wake you.”
Roxy walked past me, patting my chest as she started for the stairs. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.”
Roxy cocked her head, hip popping to match. “That whole no-more-lies thing … it goes both ways, ya know?”
“I know.” I rubbed one last time at my shoulder where Sirena had touched me. “I promise I’ll let you know what it is once I put my finger on it.”
Roxy’s eyes narrowed. “Say it.”
“Pinky swear.”
“Okay, I’ll see you down there?”
I nodded and watched my little sister take the stairs two at a time, just like Sirena had.
6
Sirena
I gripped the side of the galley, holding on for balance and dear life.
Tiki nudged my shoulder, and my grip slipped, my body nearly falling to the floor. “Still getting used to your legs?” he chortled.
“Yes.” I straightened out my skirt, pulling down the shirt that matched the rest of the Iara crew—the rest of Critias’ recovery team. “Something along those lines.”
“We can all get back home the minute you figure out where the key is. I searched the girls’ rooms and belongings. There was no key in their bags.”
“You went through their things?”
Tiki sent me a confused look. “Why wouldn’t I? I figured you could handle the brother, and I’ll handle the girls and the sister.” He waggled his eyebrows, and that slithery feeling inside me churned.
I grabbed the tray of salads, not sure how I was going to manage not hurling them at the large head of the stupid Muirgeilt. “Have you heard the saying you get more bees with honey than vinegar?”
“No.” Tiki plucked a tomato off one of the plates and tossed it in his mouth. “What’s a bee, and what does it have to do with finding the key?”
I shook my head. “It is a saying. The bee in this scenario would be the key. I would be the honey, and you will always be vinegar.”
Tiki’s eyes narrowed, making my skin tighten. “You’ll be dead if you don’t produce the key, and I won’t have to worry about vinegar, or bees, or you.”
The yacht rocked under another significant swell, taking my heart along for the ride. I wanted to say something witty and quick, but when your life was threatened by a minch … you’re lucky if you can just survive the encounter.
“These are good, by the way.” He plucked another tomato off a second plate before he tossed it in his mouth and headed to the stern of the yacht. “Tonight, Sirena, or we do it my way.”
His words stayed with me, haunting me as I served and cleared the four courses of dinner Luca made. Luca was one of the few minch I liked. He was the only one who spoke to me like a person and not the slave I was. Besides giving me a small knife to protect myself, he had earned his legs five years ago and had been living with the humans while still serving Critias. It was the best of both worlds. He could love the land and still be close to the ocean, without ever having to navigate the dangerous temper of Critias.
Once you had turned in your tail, you were free.
Taking Critias’ funds were “icing on the cake,” Luca said.
I pulled in a breath of damp sea air. Leaning against the side of the yacht, I listened to the rich baritone voice of Rick. I traced the lines in my palm; the tingle from our simple encounter still danced under the tips of my fingers.
I had not meant to touch him.
It was the last thing I wanted to do, put Rick Martin under my spell, but I could not stop myself. The ropy muscles in his shoulders ebbed and flowed with an emotion I would have given anything to know. The way they flattened and pulled taut when he put his hands on his hips, I could not help myself. I wanted to know what all of that power under his skin felt like.
I leaned my head back on the wall, remembering how my insides danced when he held me close. I had never been touched like that before, and it had been years since someone had actually given me a hug. Not that what Rick had done was hug me. I was not so deluded to think that. And I would never want that life for Rick. A life where he was my servant and not my equal … or worse.
From an early age, it was drilled into a young Siren’s brains: our palms were as deadly as our voices. When we were eleven, we were sent to the surface for our first consummation. I had kept my hands folded together, and my lips locked shut. While the rest of the sirens sang, touched, and ultimately consumed, I had wandered off and lost my heart. I leaned around the corner, stealing a peek at Rick. Roxanne and the girls were gabbing, and the ocean held Rick’s attention. Again, his muscles were tense. The cords in his necks flexed and relaxed like they were bobbing in their own sea, following their own current, and it took everything in me not to walk over there and ease the tension again.
Rick pulled his focus from the ocean, catching me staring at him. My eyes flared, my breath caught, and far to
o late, I pulled my head back around the corner. But not before I saw the hints of a smile pull at his lips.
My head bounced against the side of the yacht. I was a stupid siren to think this would be easy. Watching Rick from a distance was one thing; being able to talk to him, to have him see me, the temptation of touching him was an entirely different thing.
“Sirena,” Luca called from the kitchen window next to my hiding spot. “Desserts are ready.”
I straightened my skirt, ran my palms down my legs, and remembered why this was all happening: Freedom.
I kept my head down, ignoring Rick’s gaze, but feeling his eyes on me as I scooted around the corner and scurried into the main salon toward the kitchen. Inside, I was greeted with the most delicious scent. The smell was so sweet, so rich, and so perfect for what I was feeling for a man I had no business feeling anything for.
I slid the door into its pocket, pulling in another deep breath of delectable scents.
“What is dessert?”
Luca snorted. “Humans’ guilty pleasures.” The chef turned, filling the white bowls with a golden brown liquid. I leaned on my elbows, pulling in as much of the scent as I could.
“What is it called?”
“Bananas Foster.” Luca kept his attention on the bowls and not me.
“What is a banana?”
“This.” He scooped out a long curved item. “It’s a fruit. Not nearly as tasty when it isn’t soaked and flamed in alcohol.” His blue eyes met mine. “But then again what isn’t better with alcohol?”
I giggled. “I will have to take your word for it.”
“You haven’t had alcohol yet?”
“Nor a banana.”
“Skip the banana—unless it’s attached to a man—and try the alcohol.”
“Bananas come from men?”
“No!” Luca roared. “Gods, how I’ve missed the company of a wet-behind-the-ear siren. When you figure it out, we’ll chat. Now take these out before they lose their presentation.”
I loaded the white bowls up on the serving tray I had carried the salads out on.
“Be careful,” Luca warned as I headed back out. “The sauce is still hot. I don’t want you to burn yourself.”
I kept my focus on the bowls and the sloshing concoction Luca had made for everyone, hoping he had saved some for me to try, when the salon sliding doors opened. My heart raced as the scent of Rick floated in on a breeze. He smelled like sunshine and soap. Two scents that I would have happily traded my tail for if I could inhale those fragrances for the rest of my life.
Over the tendrils of steam, I found Rick and his smile as my toes caught on the lip of the door. This time my heart raced for a whole new reason. I stumbled out the door, turning so the hot desserts would land on me instead of Roxanne and her friends. The world started tipping as I felt myself falling backwards and then stopping. Strong arms wrapped around me, steadying me and stopping my fall, but that did not stop the desserts. The bowls on the tray clattered, dancing along the surface until one jumped off and smashed to the floor.
Hot liquid splashed on my bare feet, and it took everything in me not to double over at the pain. Rick reached around me, grabbing the tray from my grip.
“It is hot,” I hissed.
“Rox, take this.” As quick as Rick’s arms were stopping me, the serving tray was gone, and I was swept up into his arms. My hands wrapped around his neck; the corded muscles I had stared at all day were suddenly under my palms. His soft skin, still warm from the day in the sun, was like a drug to my system. Since I had felt him, I did not think I could stop. A shudder rocketed through me, and Rick’s grip on me tightened. My head swam as the world seemed to shrink.
“Do you have a first aid kit?” Rick asked over my head.
Tiki grunted, but even I could hear the laughter in his tone. He thought I had done this on purpose. I stole a quick glance his direction, and the sparkle in Tiki’s black eyes said he was pleased that I had put my hands on Rick. Not just put my hands on him, but given the euphoric feeling coursing through my body, I had started the process of consummation. The thought made my stomach churn.
I felt something for Rick, but not the way Tiki and the rest of Critias’ realm expected. I winced as Rick jostled my ankle as he sat me down. He grabbed the closest chair, settled himself, and pulled my foot up into his lap. Electricity passed between us as our eyes met, and his the pads of his fingers skidded across my ankle. Each pass carried more heat, connected us further and further until I could feel his pulse match mine. My heart leapt in my chest as Rick’s lips puckered. His eyes met mine, and I could feel his breath catch in his throat. I could see his eyes cloud over and fall deeper into mine. It was so wrong and so right at the same time. My thighs clenched, and I jolted at the shot of pure joy that rocketed through me—this was so wrong. What was happening was not by Rick’s choice but by mine.
Tiki tossed the metal first aid kit on the table, interrupting our connection. Rick cleared his throat, pulling his eyes from mine. “Thanks, Tiki.” Rick turned his attention to my foot cradled in his hand and poured water over my foot.
I hissed at the pain, and then my heart stopped.
Water.
I knew what happened with salt water, but fresh water, drinking water. Crap! Would something happen?
“Rox, hand me a napkin.” But it was Tiki who jutted his arm past Rick—nearly hitting him—and quickly wiped my foot dry. Pain flared up my leg, stealing my breath as tears sprang to my eyes.
“Easy!” Rick grabbed Tiki by the wrist. “You don’t know how bad the burn is.”
Tiki looked at my leg, the worry evaporating from his eyes that our secret was safe. “It’s not the worst I’ve seen.”
“Still.” Rick grabbed the napkin from Tiki. “You don’t know what degree the burns are. There could be shards of porcelain embedded in her foot.” Rick carefully wiped at my dry skin, each brush awakening a new piece inside me.
“Sirena?” Rick pulled his gaze from my foot. Our eyes met and that connection, that forbidden connection I had fought years against feeling, roared back to life.
“Sorry, I did not hear you.” I focused on Tiki and the rest of the alarmed Iara crew. I pulled my leg from Rick’s lap and quickly hobbled for the crew’s quarters. “It is fine. Really.”
“Don’t worry,” Tiki yelled after me. “We’ll clean up your mess.”
I barely made it down the stairs and to the only girl’s bathroom before I lost my stomach. I knew exactly what mess he was talking about cleaning up. I splashed water on my face and watched to see what happened. What had Rick and the other humans seen?
Water beaded on my bronzed skin, clinging and holding on to the surface until it disappeared, replaced with a pearl-like shimmer.
The first sign of transition.
I hung my head. If Rick had poured more water on my foot, my flesh would have turned translucent, and if he had looked really hard, he would have seen my true form. Like a tadpole swimming in its protective shell, my fin and all the horrible secrets that came with that knowledge would have been there for him to see.
My stomach rolled again. The taste of bile clawed its way up my throat. If Rick, Roxanne, or any of the other girls saw me start to transition, everyone was dead. It did not matter if we consumed them, they’d have seen us in our true state before they were under our influence, and that meant they would always have a memory—no matter how vague—and would know sirens, minchs, and mermaids existed.
And they would have been killed … because of me.
I had already put Rick at risk once before by saving him in my true form when the others had left him for dead.
I startled at the knock on my door, my grip on the counter had tightened until I could feel the fake stone mold into my hands.
“Yes?” I knew it was Rick before he spoke. The tiny hairs on my arm stood straight up as the need to feel his skin released an ache deep inside me. The need to consume him ebbed and flowed under my body like
a wicked current I could not kick free from.
“It’s Rick.”
I did not answer.
“Sirena, open the door. I need to make sure you’re okay.”
I bit down on my lip, hating the way my stomach rolled under the guilt of what I was going to have to do.
“I am okay,” I lied. I was so far from okay. Everything about this scenario was so far from okay.
The doorknob turned.
My breath caught as the door opened.
Rick’s beautiful face filled the void.
“Can I be the judge of that?”
I shook my head but stepped as far into the bathroom as the tiny space would allow. Everything forbidden inside me came to life, growing and consuming me like Rick’s smile. My cheeks heated, my stomach fluttered, and the worst of it … the toxins I knew would be his demise slickened my palms.
“It’s tight down here.” Rick wedged himself into the bathroom, closing the door behind him. “But I have a feeling you wouldn’t let me do this in my state room.”
“Do what?”
“Take care of you.”
I shivered.
He smiled.
“I really am okay.”
Rick pushed back a piece of hair from my face. His touch stopped at the scar running through my brow before he tucked the strand of hair behind my ear. “I’m sure you are.”
“Then why the extra fuss?”
“You’re the only girl on this yacht. Figured you could use some proper gentlemaning.”
“Is that even a word?”
“Probably not.” Rick closed the small distance between us, and my breath caught deep in my chest. “You keep doing that, and I may never let you go.”
I swallowed hard, casting my gaze to the floor, knowing that was already something he could not do, even if he wanted to.
“God, you’re beautiful.” Rick picked my chin up, his body filling in the last space between us. “Sorry.” He pulled his finger from my face. “That was terribly forward of me.”
The heat of a blush stained my cheeks and traveled down my neck. It seemed to find all the tiny fissures between us and meld us together. He did not deserve this. And if life had been kind, I would not have been a siren.
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