Voices of the Sea

by Bethany Masone Harar

  Of course, now she understood the truth. He’d killed a little girl by accident. Will had been only eleven, playing his violin with the window open. The little girl heard and crossed the street in a trance, and a car hit her. From what Lora understood, Will had never forgiven himself.

  Of course, Will had never actually told her the story. She had to hear it from his aunt and uncle because he refused to speak of the accident.

  The accident when he was eleven. Moving to Pacific Grove at age twelve. A coincidence? Maybe not.

  Lora took a deep breath and followed Will and Nicholas across the parking lot toward the school. Nicholas still had the knife, and because Will appeared unwilling to help, she was on her own. A small voice in the back of her head warned her Nicholas lacked his sanity at the moment, and he needed to be stopped before he truly hurt someone. It was impossible for her to ignore the situation. Lora wasn’t sure who she could tell, however, which was her biggest problem. Her father and best friend were out of the picture, leaving only Eric or Fiona. Ryan flashed in her mind as a brief possibility, but she wasn’t sure if she should drag him into it.

  Pulling her coat close to ward off the cold breeze, Lora hurried into the crowded hallway and made her way toward. the courtyard. Eric and Fiona usually spent their time snuggling on a bench there, consumed with one another.

  “A knife?” Fiona said when Lora had finished telling them the story. “You have to tell someone,” she said, taking Eric’s hand in her own. Eric nodded in agreement.

  “But he’ll know I told,” Lora said, thinking of the way Nicholas’ face had glowed with pleasure as he turned the knife over and over again with thin fingers. “What if he, well, comes after me or something?”

  Eric frowned. “What if I tell the assistant principal for you?”

  “No,” Fiona said. “He’ll still link you to Lora ‘cause we’re friends. It would be better if we could tell them anonymously.”

  Lora agreed.

  “Maybe you could call the school and leave a message,” she said, giving Eric a hopeful glance. “Then if they tell Nicholas how they found out he had a knife, all they can say is an anonymous male called. He wouldn’t be able to blame me for calling, then.”

  Eric pulled out his cell phone, dialed 411, and asked for the main office of their school. He kept the conversation brief, not identifying himself, only telling the secretary about Nicholas Wilson’s knife. He hung up quickly and pocketed his phone. “Done,” he said, and eyed them warily. “Let’s just hope they catch him before he does anything stupid. It’s creepy, thinking about him with a knife. It reminds me of . . .” Eric trailed off, but Lora perceived exactly what he was thinking.

  “It reminds you of the Sons of Orpheus?” she asked, and Eric nodded.

  “There is no way Nicholas is a Son of Orpheus,” Fiona said, rising from the bench. “He’s too gentle.”

  “No,” Lora agreed. “But I never thought he would bring a weapon to school, either. It makes me wonder how I can trust anyone anymore.” The warning bell rang and students began to hurry down the hallway to class. From the corner of her eye, she saw one figure who stood still amid the bustling crowd. Ryan.

  He watched her from a corner, staring at her with eyes so dark, from this distance they resembled black pools.

  Fiona followed her gaze and raised her eyebrows. “See you at lunch?” she asked, and Lora nodded, still focused on a silent Ryan.

  She stepped toward him, not taking her eyes from him once, as if he might disappear like a shadow without sunlight. Lora didn’t stop until she almost touched him, their bodies parallel to one another. On his neck were two small freckles which resembled a vampire bite. She’d never noticed them before. Sexy.

  “Do you need something?” she asked, her voice breathy. Lora’s heart pounded mercilessly within her chest. The ocean called to her from far away, sensing her unease, her excitement. Ryan smelled like the unsettled sea.

  He grinned, not showing his teeth, but rather curving his lips upward into a coy smile. She sighed. Sexy again. She would not come away from this encounter unscathed. “Not anymore,” he answered, causing Lora to catch her breath.

  “Why are you staring at me?” she said, sneaking a peek at the two freckles, helpless to ignore them any longer. She reached up and touched his neck. “There are two of them side by side,” she said, enjoying the smooth feel of his neck, shocked at herself for behaving this way with a man she hardly knew. But when he studied her with those dark, intense eyes, as if he were a vampire, putting her under his thrall, she continued to be a willing victim. Ryan caught her hand when she started to pull it away.

  “Have dinner with me, Loralei,” he said, caressing her hand with his thumb.

  Dear Lord. How could she control herself with him? “When?” she asked, head swimming with a longing she shouldn’t feel.

  “Tomorrow night. I’ll pick you up.”

  Lora took a step back, relieved he had not asked her out tonight. It was Friday, and it would have been hard to explain why she couldn’t go out with him. She couldn’t miss a clan gathering, and was aware she shouldn’t spend time with Ryan. But he held some mystical power over her, making him impossible to resist.

  “I can meet you somewhere,” she said, her cautious side returning. Much of Ryan’s life still remained a mystery, practically making him a stranger. A stranger whom she was undeniably attracted to, Lora acknowledged, but she still needed to be cautious. Ryan shook his head.

  “I know where you live. I’ll pick you up at seven.” Tenderly, he brought her traitorous hand to his lips and kissed it, sending shivers down her body. Hoping he didn’t feel her reaction, Lora pulled her hand away.

  “All right,” she said, too enamored with him to say no. “I’ll see you then.” Turning, Lora propelled herself down the hallway, putting as much distance between her and Ryan as possible. She made it to class moments before the tardy bell rang, falling into her seat and trying to stop her heart from pounding. Through the window, she could hear the ocean singing its lustful song, which did nothing to calm her. All attentions to Nicholas and Will were gone. The sea and Ryan’s lips upon her white skin were all she noticed.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Later in the afternoon, Lora drove with her father to the marina to meet the Siren Clan. He pulled the car into a gravel parking lot behind the boathouse. They made the long march down the lengthy pier, past boats swaying in the water, until they reached The Athena, a large white yacht tethered to the pier. The yacht towered above the other small boats in the marina, dwarfing them with its size. There were no passengers milling about on the decks above, which meant the Clan already gathered below in the large cabin area.

  The yacht belonged to Silas Weatherby, a member of the Clan who managed the marina and had made a silent fortune from the rich who lived in Pacific Grove. Silas lived alone on his yacht. His wife and child had died years ago, but no one ever told Lora how they had passed away. The Clan rarely discussed death, because Sirens, once deceased, were only gone in corporeal form. Their spirits swam for eternity on the ocean, floating with their ancestors in perfect tranquility. The life of a Siren never really ended. Their bodies died, and the loss was real. But although Lora could not see them, the voices of her people, now gone from this Earth, intermingled with the seas’. More than once, Lora had heard the song of her mother.

  Still, the melody didn’t erase the longing to see her mother again. She could never actually talk to her mom, or have a conversation with her. Feeling her mother’s spirit nearby never fully satisfied her. She still felt the pang of longing in her stomach when she remembered her.

  The music, usually very strong, was oddly quiet this afternoon. The sky draped itself in angry black, and the clouds swirled above them, threatening a storm. Each crash of the waves against the wooden pier muffled the ocean’s music.


  No one greeted them as they clamored up the plank and gingerly stepped onto the bobbing boat. Lora’s eyes were drawn toward the darkened water cresting around them, churning like the clouds. As they drew nearer, the sea hummed beneath her. An unsettled cry rose into the air from beneath the waves, sensing the Siren’s turmoil. Lora paused, listening to its fear. “Do you hear it?” she asked her father.

  “Yes,” he answered. He moved toward the narrow stairs leading below deck, but he didn’t stop to listen as Lora did. Rather, he hurried down the steps and out of sight, leaving Lora alone, with only her jumbled emotions to keep her company.

  Her father couldn’t feel the pull as she did. The ocean’s torment flowed through her blood, consuming her until she could focus on nothing else. She leaned over the side of the yacht, which felt damp from the ocean’s spray, and stretched out her hand. The water, cool silk on her fingers, teemed with the slightest feel of electricity, as if their connection caused a chemical reaction.

  “Lora?” Will’s voice carried from below deck. His voice startled her. She hadn’t spoken to him since this morning, choosing instead to catch a ride home with Eric and Fiona. In fact, she’d spent most of the day avoiding him, particularly because she worried she might reveal her upcoming date with Ryan.

  The doubts from the morning resurfaced within her. He didn’t speak Greek.

  Maybe it seemed petty, but his secret was like a betrayal.

  The anger she’d heard in his voice this morning stayed with her, and she was afraid to face him. Afraid of Will. The words were an oxymoron, completely out of place together.

  Sighing, Lora lifted her hand from the water and whispered a brief goodbye before she hurried down the stairs. The drops of liquid left on her fingers gave her comfort as she followed Will down the narrow stairs to the cabin below.

  The distinct odor of sage billowed around her in white puffs. At the bottom of the stairs, Lora’s eyes had to adjust to the dim lighting of candles and the hazy fog of incense. Her clan gathered in the middle of the room, their bodies forming a semi-circle in the small space, and Devin stood in the center, holding a bundle of burning sage which she swept back and forth over the Clan. The cabin wasn’t larger than the size of a high school classroom, but rich furniture, comfortable chairs, and fine oriental rugs adorned it. A small, circular window on each wall revealed the dark water outside, slapping against the thick pain of glass. All of the furniture had been pushed toward the walls to make room for the remaining fifteen clan members. Gregory, Eric’s older brother, was still at college and had to miss the meeting. The Haynesworth family, Mr. and Mrs. Barbas and their granddaughter Violet, and Victoria and her parents were with them only in spirit. Lora noticed Charlie and Emma Hale first. Emma held their little girl to her tightly while the baby squirmed. They wore black clothing and black expressions. She saw Eric standing with his family, and Fiona stood directly behind him, next to her parents. Will wasn’t near his aunt and uncle, however, and she scanned the Clan member’s faces, searching for him. He’d disappeared into the crowd while she descended the stairs.

  She found him next to her father, on the outside perimeter of the circle. Will beckoned, making it impossible for her to observe him secretly. Lora joined them, closing her eyes to breathe in the cleansing scent of sage, pushing out the hurt and confusion of the previous days. Fond memories of the occasional clan meeting materialized from her childhood. Clan meetings gave new life to her heritage. The Clan spent so much time trying to hide and conceal who they really were that Lora forgot sometimes she wasn’t alone. When the Clan gathered, however, she felt a part of something larger, of something important.

  Today, a strong sense of anticipation circulated among her clan. Their heads were bowed, breathing in the sage, and Lora felt them communing with the sea. Noticing her arrival, Devin began to chant.

  Θεά Ωκεανό, είσαι η μητέρα μας και Σωτήρα μας.

  Goddess Ocean, you are our mother, our sister and our savior.

  Μπορείτε μόνο να μας δώσει δύναμη.

  You alone give us power.

  Ακούστε μας, απόψε μητέρα.

  Hear us tonight, mother.

  Θεραπεύω καρδιές μας, να ενισχύσει το πνεύμα μας, να μας προστατεύει από όσους επιθυμούν να μας βλάψει.

  Heal our hearts, strengthen our spirits, protect us from those who wish us harm.

  το νερό σας είναι δύναμη της ζωής μας

  Your water is our life force.

  καθαρίζω μας, η μητέρα του.

  Cleanse us, mother.

  Κρατήστε μας ασφαλή.

  Keep us safe.

  να μας διδάξει πώς να νικήσουν οι Υιοί του Ορφέα

  Teach us how to defeat the Sons of Orpheus.

  The prayer filled her mind and body with confidence as the ocean responded to the words. The yacht, which had previously lurched back and forth from the waves of the impending storm, calmed down and rocked in time with the Guardian’s words. Lora felt the spirit of her ancestors nearby, and the ocean’s presence comforted her. Opening her eyes, she glanced around at the other members of her clan who swayed with the boat and murmured words of prayer. Some held hands, while others appeared content to commune with the sea alone. Even her father, who stood beside her with his eyes closed, his lips moving along with the chanting, indicated he could feel the power of the ocean.

  She noticed during the chant, however, that Will did not repeat the words as she did. He hadn’t been lying to her. He did not speak Greek, which was an anomaly. How could she have never noticed it before?

  Her speculations were interrupted as a warm, familiar hand intertwined with her own and she glanced up at Will, who gave her a wan expression. Instinctively, she squeezed his hand, trying to focus on the Will she’d spent her childhood with, rather than the Will who acted like a stranger. All she wanted was for things to be right between them. He was still her dearest friend. As much as Lora hated to admit it, he had always shown that he had her best interests in mind, even if she disagreed with his style at times. But a small voice continued to nag at her. It reminded her of Nicholas, and how people were not always what they appeared to be. She tried her best to ignore the feelings and instead focus on the Will she remembered so well.

  “I’m sorry,” she whispered.

  “Me too,” he whispered back. “You had no idea I didn’t speak Greek, and were just trying to help Nicholas.”

  Lora sighed, grateful the fight had ended. There were still so many questions she needed answered, but they could wait. She turned her attention to Devin as she began to speak.

  “Thank you for coming,” Devin said in her soothing voice. It carried throughout the room despite its gentle tone. “There is much to discuss this evening. I realize you are afraid, and although I wish I could alleviate your concerns, I’m sorry to say I can only confirm them at this time. We have solid proof that the Sons of Orpheus have come to Pacific Grove.”

  There were murmurs of fright among the Clansmen, and Lora moved closer to Will, seeking comfort.

  “What proof?” asked Charlie Hale, his baby girl asleep in his arms.

  “A Siren from a clan in Half-Moon Bay arrived several weeks ago.” Again a murmur of voices as the Clan members turned around, trying to find the newcomer. “He is not here yet,” said Devin, which stopped the curious clan members from searching. “But he will be here soon, and he has been through a terrible ordeal.”

  Confused, Lora studied Devin. Why hadn’t she mentioned this to her before?

  Devin took a deep breath and pushed her long, silver hair off her shoulders. “He alone survived in his clan after
the Sons of Orpheus arrived in Half-Moon Bay.”

  “And I barely survived,” a familiar voice said from behind. Lora turned quickly at the sound of the voice, and found herself face to face with Ryan.

  The sea stopped its song. There were no other sounds in the boat as Lora stared at him in shock. Her suspicions about Ryan were not unfounded after all. He kept a very large secret from her. Though a part of her had recognized something different about him, Lora had not expected him to be a Siren, like she.

  A wave of dizziness consumed her. She struggled to accept what she witnessed before her.

  Ryan was a Siren.

  Ryan was just like her.

  The fears and doubts she’d had before about befriending him, about becoming close to him, no longer mattered. This freed Lora to be herself around this man she so longed for, and the knowledge made her legs quiver. She looked at him with cautious eyes, but they betrayed her feelings. Ryan could see into her soul.

  “If I hadn’t found a safe place to hide until they left, the Sons of Orpheus would have killed me too,” he said, not taking his eyes from Lora, as if he spoke only to her.

  “Come here, young man,” Devin called. The Clan members parted to let him pass. She felt Will’s hand become tense within her own, and she released it, afraid Will might sense her feelings through her skin. Ryan strode to Devin and bowed.

  “Thank you for inviting me to your gathering,” he said formally. Devin beamed at him.

  “Thank you for your warning. I understand you’ve suffered over the past few months, but you are most welcome here.”

  Ryan’s face contorted, full of torment, but he caught himself and nodded. “I’m happy to be here,” he said. His voice sounded strained. On tiptoes, Lora tried to get a better glimpse, but could barely see above the heads of her clansmen. Ryan had deceived her, blatantly so, and she couldn’t decide if she should hate him or admire him. Her treacherous body, however, continued to betray her. She felt familiar warmth spread through her blood at the sight of his face.