“You’re serious.”
I nodded.
“And you didn’t tell anyone?”
I shook my head.
She blew out a deep breath and let my revelation sink in. I wasn’t sure how long we sat down in the cargo hold before she spoke another word. Long enough for Roxy to finish eating the chocolates and eye another bag.
“Tell me more.”
My heart sank. “Two mermen grabbed Mom. They pulled her mask off, and before I could grab my knife, two more were on me. I stabbed one, but the other … I don’t know how I escaped, Rox. ”
“Mers are peaceful,” she mused. “They were men with tails? You’re certain.”
I nodded.
“Did they have a dorsal?”
“I don’t know.” I closed my eyes, trying to play back the moment I saw Mom attacked. “It all happened so fast.”
“If they had a dorsal then—damn, Rick—they’re minchs.”
“Go on.”
“Minchs are the stuff underwater nightmares are made of. They’re the siren counterparts. Half man, half shark. Mythology calls them Cetus. Perseus was supposed to have slain the only one in existence.”
“Well, he missed.”
Roxy folded her legs like she was sitting around a campfire. “Okay, there’s a theory that Poseidon had a hidden army of Cetus in case Cronus ever broke free from his prison in Tartarus. What?” She questioned the stunned look that had to be on my face. “You and Mom dove in the waters looking for Atlantis. I dove into books trying to help.”
I grabbed Roxy by the neck and planted a good kiss on the top of her head.
“You done being sentimental. If minchs killed Mom, attacked you, and you killed one of them—”
“Stabbed, Roxy. And from what I can remember, it didn’t do much damage. I couldn’t have.”
“Doesn’t matter, Rick. You drew blood?”
I nodded.
“Then they’re not done with our family.”
“And that’s why we’re turning the boat around and heading back to Texas. Or we can grab a plane when we dock in Puerto Rico, but Rox, we are not diving.”
“For once, I might agree with you.”
“Really? You don’t think I’m crazy.”
“I always think you’re crazy but about this…” Rox shook her head. “Mom was a wicked diver. You were a close second. If you say you were attacked, then you were. There’s some freaky shit under the ocean, Rick. You just happened to stumble on the life-sized freaky.”
Silence crept back into the cargo hold. Roxy rested her head against my shoulder as we felt the speed of the yacht pick up.
“You never told me how you swung the extra days.”
Roxy let out a little giggle, twisting so she could see my face. “You keep forgetting Beth’s dad is richer than God.”
“Don’t use the Lord’s name in vain,” I warned, kissing her temple. “She get one of those black Amex cards for graduation?”
“More like for her sixteenth birthday.”
I shook my head. “You’ll pay her back your share.”
“I will not, even if I wanted to.”
“Yeah. I may let you slide on this one. Neither of us has a spare twenty grand lying around.” I shook my head again. “Don’t correct me on the amount, Rox. Let me live in my ignorant bliss.”
“You might get too comfortable and never leave.”
Something told me I’d be okay with that.
8
Sirena
I listened to Rick’s account of the attack. He remembered more than I had thought he would, but he had not remembered me. I slowly crawled up the crew’s staircase. Each riser added another level of guilty weight to my shoulders.
Tiki sent me down here to eavesdrop, to see where they’d hidden the key. Listening to Rick and Roxanne, all I could think of were the ways I could have helped and did not. All the things I took from them because I was too scared. Too selfish. I did not know Ms. Martin other than the stories that circulated about her. A human that spent as much time in our waters, searching for the place we wanted to access, you’d better believe Critias made sure we knew all about Iara Martin and her son.
“Well?” Tiki’s voice startled me. “Where’d they hide it?”
“They did not talk about the key.”
“You were down there for over an hour. If they didn’t talk about the key, then what—”
“They talked about their mother’s death, ate chocolate chips, and bonded.”
Tiki’s lips curled, showing off his sharpened teeth. “Bonded?”
“Yeah.” A small pang of jealousy grabbed hold of my heart. “They love each other, Tiki. It is what humans do.”
Tiki leaned back on the kitchen counter. “Another reason why they need our leadership.” He nudged my shoulder as he pushed off the counter. “Keep doing what you’re doing. I didn’t think you had it in you, but that boy is falling hard for you. Get him to sing, Sirena. Before we dock would be better. I have a feeling Critias is going to want an update. It would be better if we could hand him the key and be done with this thing.”
I nodded, keeping my focus on the black vein running through the white marble countertop.
“Sirena.” Tiki bent down, his eyes level with mine. “Don’t fuck this up. It’ll be more than your legs you’ll be losing if you do.”
The tiny hairs at the nape of my neck lifted, and despite the need to run, I stayed still, watching Tiki amble away.
Tiki’s words stayed with me all night, haunting my sleep until I finally gave up and climbed to the wheelhouse. I had not been in the water and free to transition in almost a day. My skin was starting to itch, and my mood was as angry. When I saw Tiki’s brother manning the helm, I abandoned my plan to sweet-talk Luca into slowing down so I could swim along the side.
Instead, I closed my eyes, hiding in plain site while letting the wind whip across the bow of the yacht and my face. The sun was barely pulling itself from the ocean, and Iara was flying across the water. Each breath I took, the closer we were to Critias.
What little time I had was running out.
I guess if I loved being a siren or a minch I’d be as happy as the rest of the crew. Thing was I hated being a siren. I hated the lying, the taking, and I knew in my soul I would hate the consuming. Monica said not only could she still hear her first consummation, she could feel his hand on her body, his mouth on hers. I had tuned her out after that. I did not need to know what all went into taking a man’s soul, but if I wanted my freedom, then that was what I was going to have to do.
I pulled my cherished legs up to my chest and rested my chin on my arms. If I knew Tiki—and I did—we would not dock in San Juan; we would head straight for Hotel de Tres Sirenas.
Last night, after a few mojitos, Luca loosened his lips and told me how it would all happen. If I had not obtained the key by the time we reached land, Tiki would fake a problem with the yacht. We would put the Martins up in the siren-run hotel while the boat was fixed. If I did not follow through with the consummation, one of the sirens would.
A chill ran through me.
The Martins had no idea they raced toward their demise.
The scent of sunshine and coffee fought with the wind for my attention.
“Good morning, Rick.” I did not need to turn and see who had joined me. Every cell in my body seemed to vibrate with excitement when he was around.
“You have eyes in the back of your head?”
I shook my head.
“Am I bothering you? I could come back.”
I pulled in a deep breath and could barely meet his gaze. “You are not bothering me. Please”—I patted to the cushion next to me—“grab a seat.”
“I brought pastries, too?” Rick pulled out a cinnamon roll from behind his back. “Roxy always said to bring coffee and sweets in the morning.”
“Roxy is a genius.”
“Don’t say that too loud.” Rick’s shoulders bounced with laughter. “We d
on’t want to feed the beast.
It was not hard to smile around Rick. He had an ease about him that I envied. He handed me the steaming cup before settling next to me. Long tan legs stretched out while he leaned his back against the cushion. It was hard not to take him all in, feel the warmth of need blossom in my belly.
“I didn’t take you for an early riser.” Rick playfully nudged my knee, releasing a wave of euphoria that made me want to snuggle into the warmth of his side.
Tiki was right. Whatever I had started with my touch, it was enough, and it was growing.
I pulled a sip of coffee into my mouth. The bitter taste was something I was told I’d get used to. I doubted it.
“Not a coffee fan?”
“I like it when it tastes more like a dessert.”
Rick’s chuckle bounced his thigh against my ankle, stealing my breath away.
“I’ll let Tiki know next time.”
My heart stilled, and the vile taste of panic formed in my mouth. “Tiki made the coffee?”
Rick nodded over the rim of his cup. “He said you liked yours a certain way, made sure I knew which cup to give you.”
“I am sure he did.”
He finished another large sip of his surely spiked coffee. The steam danced on the cold morning air, mocking me. I closed my eyes, wondering where all that bravado I had found on the bottom of the ocean had disappeared to. I had the hints of a plan worked out, but nothing was easy on the surface.
I started at Rick’s touch. My eyes flared as he picked up a piece of hair that escaped from the tight bun I had spun. He twisted it—and me—around his finger. With each revolution, his breath matched mine, and I knew if I put my hand on his chest, his pulse would be in perfect unison with mine.
“Do you always wear your hair up in a bun?”
I nodded. This was the first level of infatuation; Rick would not be able to keep his hands off me. The second level happened when we shared our first kiss, my breath of life. His soul would join mine, fused together like a junkie to his pimp until he was consumed or turned. My stomach knotted. The final level was consummation. A kiss would not be enough. Rick’s body would need to join with mine on a physical level. During our joining, I would suck the essence from his body, leaving him a mere shell of a man.
“Everything good?” I started at Tiki’s voice. “Wasn’t sure if it was still moist on the bow. I normally prep this area last.” Tiki handed Rick a towel.
“We’re all good.” Rick let go of my strand of hair, his palm sliding down the column of my neck, trailing my spine, and coming to a very possessive rest on the small of my back.
Tiki turned to leave. There was something that made my stomach spasm watching him steal a quick glance over his shoulder.
“Rick told me you made the coffee this morning,” I called after Critias’ henchworm.
Tiki’s shoulders straightened, the vile grin growing on his face only confirmed my worst fear: he had done something.
“Listen.” I laid my palm on the soft long sleeve of Rick’s sweatshirt. “I have a few chores to attend to, but once I am done, you want to spend the day together? I am certain Tiki would not mind picking up my afternoon duties.” I turned my mega-watt smile on the creature from below.
“Not at all, Sirena.” Tiki matched my smile with a snarl. “Por favor, remember we dock at sunset.”
Rick helped me stand from his reclined position. My breath caught at how easily he handled me. I did not know humans were so strong. Critias always made me think they were weak and feeble. I held my tongue with the pleasing smile I had perfected below. Rick slipped his arm around my waist, pulling me into the space that seemed to be made just for me.
“Do you want me to help?”
“I would get in trouble if you did that.”
“Okay.” Rick pressed his lips into my hairline. “But I like a little trouble.”
Tiny thrills of excitement pulsed under my skin. The sense of floating tethered to this man … it was enough to make a siren dream. And when his fingers tightened into the fabric of my shirt, I understood why everyone down below chased after the warmth, the rush of feeling wanted. Despite myself, I let go, leaning into the man with his arms around me. He squeezed me tight, putting all the broken pieces I could not see back together again.
“Why can’t I let you go?” he murmured.
All those warm, intoxicating feelings coursing through my system went ice cold.
I pulled back in Rick’s arms. This close, I could see the cloudy look in his eyes, and all those pieces of me he had just put back together a moment ago shattered.
“It is okay.” I patted his chest. “Lo arreglaré.” I stepped out of his arms, and his fingers trailed along my back, down my arm, and flexed when they lost contact with mine.
The sinking feeling in my stomach swelled, threatening to consume me. I hurried along the walkway, grabbing Tiki by the soft skin of his chest, where his gills were hidden.
His sharp intake of air said they were as tender as everyone had said.
“Aye, Sirena,” Tiki hissed as I towed him into the galley and down the stairs. “Stop it, pinche puta!” Tiki reared back, hitting my hand and freeing himself from my grip.
“What did you do?”
Tiki looked up at me from his doubled-over position, still rubbing his offended gills. “You puta, you know a minch’s gills are like grabbing a human man between his legs.” He lifted his shirt, hissing at the red angry skin. “That’s going to bruise, which means I won’t be able to transition for at least a day!”
I fought back the smile.
“You smile now, but wait until I tell Critias what you did.”
“And what did you do to Rick?”
Tiki winced, his focus still on nursing his bruised gills. “What?”
“Rick.” I pushed. “What did you do?”
“Sweet Triton’s Scepter, Sirena. I did what you should have already done.” Tiki fished out a small vial from his chest pocket. “Siren’s song.”
I grabbed the empty container. “You put this in his coffee?”
“Yep.” Tiki pushed past me, grabbing an empty bag and heading for the ice machine. “You’d already started the process, so what’s the big deal?”
“Whose toxin is this?”
“Why?”
“Tiki!”
He paused, filling the bag of ice. “Monica’s.”
I sank against the counter. “You milked my sister?”
“I did.”
My stomach rolled. A minch milking a siren for her toxin was no easy feat. It took more than one minch and one very sick and twisted siren. The minch involved would strand a siren on the surface in her human form. Using her song, she would lure the sailor to her location. He would fall under the spell of her song and start to you know with the sailor. During the deed, the minchs involved would milk the toxins from the willing siren’s fingers.
That was not even the sickest part.
Milking and mating with a human always ran the risk of conception. This risk was extremely low if the siren killed the sailor while he was still … inside her. But if the siren allowed the sailor to live, she would carry the mixed blood, and the sailor would be bitten by a minch and cursed to live the rest of his days under the ocean waters.
“Who helped you?” My question piqued Tiki’s interest.
“Why, you love the surface so much you want to volunteer?”
I felt the blood rush from my face. “Monica volunteered.”
“Sí, she does regularly. Someone from your family had to take your mother’s position.”
“What?”
Tiki threw his head back with a guttural roar of laughter. “Sweet squids, you don’t know?”
I shook my head.
“They never told you.” Tiki yanked the ice off the counter and gingerly placed it on his side. He crossed the tiny space separating us, sticking his face in my space. “Then I’m not going to either. You want all your family’s dirty sec
rets?”
I nodded.
“Then finish the job, and I promise I’ll open the whole treasure chest of dirty for you to dig through.” He pushed off the counter, leaving me with his rotten stench and revolting proposition to mull over.
Rick’s soul for a lifetime of freedom and uncovered secrets; it was enough to make any normal siren intoxicated forever. But I was not a normal siren. And the thought of handing anyone over to Critias, let alone Rick, made me want to shrivel and die.
“Sirena, we dock in Vieques at sunset. If Rick hasn’t sung by then, you’ll leave me no choice but to call up Monica to finish the job.”
My stomach rolled.
“If you have any feelings for the man, you won’t let that happen. Your sister is a sick siren. Her men don’t enjoy the consumption.”
* * *
I spent the rest of the morning punishing myself with my chores. With each flick of a dry sheet or swipe of my rag on a shower door, I tried to figure a way out of this where I kept Rick and Roxanne safe but still walked away from this with my freedom. By the time Rick found me in my quarters, I had thought of everything from grabbing the Martins and running for an airport to petitioning Poseidon with an eon of servitude in the seahorse stables—an eon was more palatable than an eternity.
The small knock on my cabin door sounded again. I hung my head, feeling the weight of my conscience and not transitioning for almost two days hang from every fiber of my being.
“Yes?” The door split open.
“You decent?” Rick’s voice drifted in like a cool breeze, and I could not help but to smile.
“What?”
“Are you dressed?”
“Sí.” I folded my legs up into my bunk and let the door continue open. “You know you can not be down here?”
He smiled, and there was no way I could put any more force into my words. Truth was, I loved having Rick this close. I had spent years searching for the feeling I had with him, and with him here, in my room—and I could talk to him—everything I wanted to say would only lead to his demise and mine.
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