by Hazel Grace
Copyright 2020 © Hazel Grace All Rights Reserved
This book is a work of fiction. Any references to real events, real people, and real places are used fictitiously. Other names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the Author’s imagination and any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, organizations or places is entirely coincidental.
All rights are reserved. This book is intended for the reader of this ebook ONLY. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, taping, or by any information storage retrieval system, without the express written permission of the Author. All songs, song titles and lyrics contained in this book are the property of the respective songwriters and copyright holders.
Cover design: Black Widow Designs
Proofreading: Dom’s Proofreading
The piercing blow of a horn jolts through the night air and under the star-filled sky that partners up with the full-lit moon. It illuminates the danger we’re in, the bad decision of coming here so soon after their treasure was dropped off because they’re back again.
But they usually don’t come back until weeks later.
Three pirates surround my two sisters and I as my father’s words repeat sternly in my head, forbidding us to come here. Alluding to the peril of what could happen to us in the warmer water that meant we’re heading too far south and into territory that doesn’t welcome my kind.
They shouldn’t have seen us.
The crystal blue water must’ve glimmered just right for them to see the glitch of our tails because the hollers of men have yet to cease.
Especially when my sister, Rohana, was taken first.
Thick netting wraps around her body as they hoist her up the tall wooden ship. My sister, Kali, hasn’t stopped screaming in terror with each staggered lift that leads Rohana closer to the deck. The blood-curdling wails and the shouts of men are the only two things I hear until Kali takes a staggered breath next to me followed by a loud creak of something behind us, whining against the waves.
“There’s another ship,” Kali stammers in the water alongside me, bumping into my side. “They’re going to throw their nets.”
I glance over my shoulder at the ship with a mermaid silhouette decorating the front of it, catching my next inhale and sending a tremor down my spine.
These aren’t just any kind of pirates—they’re Hunters.
Men who take my people and sell them for profit. Who, according to my eldest sister, do the most unimaginable things to us.
We’re called beautiful, toxic, a fantasy in the sea with the voices of death. These men, they forget the other parts of what makes up a Siren—power. And it’s fueled by the ocean, which they are currently sitting on right now.
“Make them turn the boat,” I tell my sister. “I’m going to make a jump for Rohana.”
“You can’t,” she screeches. “They’ll take you too.”
I fix her with a glare because we don’t have the time to argue like we always do. I didn’t want her to come in the first place, but for once, I’m glad she did because I’m not good at singing.
“We’ll all be taken if you don’t sing,” I retort, watching the ship sail closer toward us. Their nets are already prepped along their starboard side and ready to drop around us if we don’t make a move to stop them.
Kali hesitates for only a second before nosediving beneath the chilly water. I do the same, going straight to the ocean floor before flipping back around and barrelling through the crest of waves. The moment I breach them, my body is in the air, arms outstretched to clasp the web of ropes that holds my other sister.
Rohana’s hand covers mine instantly the moment my fingers wrap around fibers. “Let go!”
I don’t respond, too focused on securing myself and taking the risk of letting go with one hand so I can reach into my bag that’s wrapped around my body.
“Hold on to me,” I order, looking into her lavender eyes. “Don’t let me go.”
She nods, and I release my hold, dipping into my pouch filled with trinkets I took from Sunset Cove and searching for the knife I always carry with me. Metal and gems clash against my flesh as I shuffle around the numerous relics.
“Please just let go,” Rohana frets louder. “Please.”
I ignore her again, I’m good at that. But the listening to my father part could use some work. With six older sisters, I’m used to being picked on and told what to do. I’ve adapted to disregarding their thoughts when I don’t agree with them because they don’t see the world as I do. They don’t share the same fascination of there being more to life than the ocean. My books show me that, the castles and the piers, the fields of green grass and sand nestled up close to the ocean’s border called a beach.
I want to see more, to know more.
My index finger touches the familiar feel of the handle I am looking for, and I clasp my hand around it. But it’s not before I hear the shouts of deep male voices sounding uncomfortably close.
“Get her over the deck,” one bellows.
“There’s two!” another one yells. Rohana’s grip tightens around mine, and my blood sprints through my body and straight to my heart that’s barely able to continue beating.
I will never let my sister go, not now or ever. And not to a bunch of Hunters who will either butcher or peddle her off.
The net suddenly jerks closer to the ship, along with my attention, and lands on a young boy holding a stick that’s looped within the mesh of the net.
He looks around my age, sandy brown hair and dark eyes. Our faces practically align with each other less than two arm’s length away.
Too close.
Alarm sounds in my head mixed with the instincts that I always try to nudge and propel away from me. His eyes widen, fastened on me as I do the same, in a stand-still moment where nothing moves and all sounds mute around us.
Opening his mouth, no words come out, and I can’t help the shutter that shoots through my frame. I’ve never been this close to a human before, and he seems to share the sentiment because he’s frozen along the railing of the ship.
Suddenly, I hear the hollers of men around us, breaking the hypnotic state I’m in, and it appears to do the same for him because he finally makes a move.
Reaching for something at his hip, I don’t wait to see what it is—I just swing.
Cutting through the crisp air that dries my skin, I catch the side of his face with my blade. He drops his stick that keeps us close to the ship, his hands immediately going to the place where I sliced him while the net swings away.
“Get them overboard boy!”
“Swing the net,” I tell my sister.
“What?”
“Swing the net,” I repeat. “They won’t be able to bring us around easily.” Rohana uses her body weight, leaning forward and backward while still holding on to my hand.
As carefully as I can so I don’t accidentally cut myself, I begin my attempt to sever some of the rope. In the process, the unpredictable net goes in every single direction possible, pumping my adrenaline through my eardrums and increasing the burn coursing through the pads of my fingers.
Then my knife breaks through a piece of binding.
Trying to study the progress while being thrashed through the air, our reality slaps me in the face. With the number of men on this ship and just the two of us, we’re never getting out of this.
One small piece and it’s not enough to free her.
“Davina.” It’s a demand to pay attention, to accept the inevitable that I know has transpired between Rohana and I.
We’re the closest
in age, the two sisters who like similar things, share our wildest dreams late at night, and delve into all the stupid things I want to do.
And coming this far south is by far the most brainless of them all.
I’m going to lose my sister tonight. Lose her over a stupid excursion because I wanted to add more to my collection of trinkets and dodads. Rohana wanted to come, she always does. This time around, Kali caught us, so that’s how she ended up here, but it was Rohana that never left my side. She was my other half, my confidant and best friend.
And I just gave her life up for an old, forgotten cove of riches.
“You have to let go now,” my sister digresses. “It’s okay.” Her voice sounds so sure and not scared anymore, it’s more accepting than anything.
It rings my gut inside out, a sharp pain hitting the pit of it as she rubs my fingers with hers in a soothing rhythm.
I violently shake my head. “Let me try some more.”
Her now dehydrated hand tightens around mine. “It’s no use,” she says calmly. “You won’t be able to in time.”
My head shoots up to her. How does she think I’d ever be able to let her go? I’d die for all six of my sisters in a moment’s time before I’d let anything happen to them.
I feel my fingers being pried away from the net. One at a time as she starts to loosen my hold on her prison.
“Rohana,” I snap, trying to close my fingers tightly back around the rope. “Stop.”
I see a tear trail down her cheek as she stays focused on my white-knuckled hand, staring at the only piece of my body that links me to her.
I won’t leave her.
I. Will. Not. Leave. Her.
“Davina—” She breaks into a sob. “—please.”
My brows furrow as tears burn the back of my eyes. “I won’t leave you behind.”
“You have to, Sister. You have to save Kali.”
“She’s fine,” I retort, still squeezing my fingers as hard as I can over the rope. Tucking my blade back into my bag, I grasp the net with my other hand.
“Tell Papa I love him,” she recites through bated breath. “I love you, too.”
“You’re not going anywhere,” I seethe. “We’re going to get out of this.”
She shakes her head, halting her work on my fingers. “I’m not, but you are. You must. I will find my way back home.”
You won’t—it’s at the tip of my tongue. No Siren who has ever been caught escaped from the clutches of humans, especially with Hunters.
I glance over at the ship’s deck, men are running amok and shouting orders, but my gaze falls back to that boy who I cut moments ago. His eyes are still locked on me, standing by a tall wooden pillar in the center of the ship.
My arms strain and tremble from my own weight as I demand my strength to stay put. I will never let go of this rope while my sister still lays in this man-made prison.
The boy holds his hand out to me, in a silent greeting I think, then pulls out his long sword with the other. Another moment passes before he moves again, he’s too far away for me to read his eyes, but his face speaks of grief and sadness.
Then he swings.
I don’t know at what, I don’t see it. All I see is myself falling toward the water and into the darkness of the shadows that are cast over by the ship.
My skull is slammed into a wall, followed by a stiff jab to my rib cage. A sharp grunt escapes my lips, but I don’t feel much of anything other than the adrenaline fleeting through every nerve in my body. A large hand grips the base of my scalp, yanking my head back by the strands of my long hair.
That I feel.
My booted foot recoils and propels backward into my captor’s shin. The other man is already prepared, bashing into the back of my shoulder with both of his fists. Without the use of my hands, that are currently bound by rope, my knees give out slightly until I’m hit a second time, bringing me to the pristine white floors.
My face immediately jolts to the side, backhanded by the man I’ve just kicked. The taste of metal hits my tongue, and I feel the slow trickle of blood start to stream down my face.
I spit, glancing up at the blond-haired man who just hit me like a woman. Weather-beaten skin, middle-aged, and dark brown eyes that try to intimidate me with a glower. The brawny lads on either side of me don't have the desired intimidating effect.
I’ve faced worse.
Worse than these two fools that believe dragging and smacking me around is going to induce any fear within me. I’ve faced a battlefield full of hundreds of men—two aren’t going to do it.
Especially knowing what I was possibly walking into the moment I volunteered to carry on my father’s mission.
Or so I thought.
I’ve never been up close to one, only heard Father’s stories of how alluring and dangerous they were.
Calculated and vicious things.
Men sang songs about the beautiful creatures that lured a man to his death by a ballad, or even a look. How you felt like a passenger in your own body with the power they wielded over it.
I’m having a hard time thinking it’s going to be easy walking out of here alive though.
First of all, these men are strong. I jabbed one in the neck, where his gills were opening and closing, and was almost drowned after being battered with a rock. It only confirmed the stories because they had tails when they knocked me off my small boat and now they have legs.
That was my welcome here.
Now I’m inside a room that isn’t like any sort of prison I’ve ever been held in, on my knees.
Everything is bright, colorful, and picturesque. Something of dreams and paintings that I’ve seen. The walls are turquoise glass rimming pearl white floors with gold etched into the tiles. There is no ceiling, the sunlight freely beaming down its rays into the room I’m in.
Wherever I look, every item is from the sea, as though we’re there. Coral makes up the legs of the chairs, what looks to be a large sand dollar is a table.
It’s the cleanest room I’ve ever seen in my life, not a speck of dirt but myself and my spoiled clothing dawns the room. Along with the salt water dripping off my clothes, making a small puddle around me.
The men at my sides stand abruptly to attention, faces turned toward the door of the room. A glint of white hits my peripheral as I glance over at a beautiful woman with blinding white hair in the doorway.
The top of her shoulders glint from pearl-colored scales that adorn her skin. An ivory crown made of seashells rests on top of her head as she strides deeper into the room, her sole focus locked on me.
My heart kicks up in unison to her steps as I study her in return. She looks like nothing I’ve ever seen in my life. All her features—eyes, brows, skin, and hair are a shade of perfect white.
Like an angel.
Only I know it’s not going to feel like being in heaven based on the greeting I received before my ass even stepped foot on this island.
I watch her chin lift in defiance, telling me that she’s someone important—though I already got that with the crown. With such a small gesture, she conveys that anything I try to do in this room will not frighten her, but there will be consequences.
Too bad I don’t take any personal interest in fear because I’m too busy invoking it in other people. Filling people with dread seems to be second nature for me, so when she moves closer, nothing but annoyance filters through my body.
Another body enters the room, this time the color blue filling in the features of hair, eyes, and shiny scales, not on her shoulders but forearms. A cerulean jewel hangs off of her shelled crown, hovering slightly over her forehead.
Twins, they are identical save for their different hued appearances.
I inhale a deep breath just for it to be sucked right from my lungs, because two more females march through the door. Not twins this time but just as unique as the first two. The taller one with pink characteristics and the other all black.
“What the fuck,” I m
utter to myself, reaching up to rub one of my temples, but I’m restrained by the plant-like rope pulling my wrists back.
All alluring women.
All women my men would love to sink their dicks into.
Pure. Clean. Angelic.
But since I know better, the last couldn’t be further from the truth. They are masked with beautiful features but have the hearts and minds of merciless killers.
I’m yanked to my feet as they all stand united in front of me, viewing me like an animal that just ate half their cattle.
It only makes me straighten my spine, ready for whatever plans or actions they may inflict on me.
“Intruder,” the white-haired woman proclaims, taking one step closer. The longer she stares, the more her milky brows furrow.
I continue to stay silent because, well, she never asked me a question.
Another steps to her side, the woman with black hair and even darker eyes. The contrast between the two, the light and the dark, isn’t lost on me.
Neither is their curiosity because our people have had very limited, if any, interactions with each other. We don’t roam this part of the sea much, keeping to the northern lands to take what we want. But my father wanted what was here, hence why I’m standing in front of four women who look bemused, wicked, and hungry.
“He’s part of a colony,” the pink vixen announces with rose-colored eyes and tan skin. She moves, rounding her two fellow friends, and continues toward me. “A warrior.”
“What else?” the white-haired woman asks.
“He came with many men.”
“To kill us all,” snaps the blue featured female, clutching her hands into fists at her side.
“Silence,” White commands, holding up a single hand to seize any further chatter. “What else do you see, Isolde?”
“He has a woman,” she continues, her attention slowly falling down the length of my body, and I stiffen my spine. Then she wrinkles her dainty nose. “Who dresses like a man.”
My eyes narrow. Edda wasn’t unattractive, but she wasn’t like the creatures standing before me either. She was an amazing woman, would make a good mother and wife to any man lucky enough to have her.
