Escape to Sirens Gate: Sirens Gate Books 1-3

by M. L. Bullock

  I went inside and peeked in on the drunken goddess, who had changed positions but was still sound asleep. I showered and got into my pajamas before climbing into Jack’s bed, the bed we used to share before we began to pretend I was his granddaughter. Tears filled my eyes as I remembered a few things, like how hard I tried to hide the truth from him. But he was smart and knew all about siren mythology. He had been a notable scholar in his time. I also remembered how he had wanted to travel and I encouraged him to do so, but I could not go with him. I could never leave Dauphin Island or Sirens Gate. I was its protector. Nobody could use the gate without express permission from the Order. Too much was at stake. He had left, but he never stayed away for too long. Except for once. He’d come back older, tired and sick. The disease had taken him, and there was nothing I could do about it.

  The heartache was too great. Too hard to bear. I could not watch him die. I had failed him in that. I sent the request to slumber to the Order, and they had given permission. Heliope had appeared and placed her hand on me, casting the sleep spell. It wasn’t really sleep. Only your memory slept. I continued to live with Jack but as his granddaughter. He’d cut my hair short and introduced me to everyone as his long-lost relative. Nobody was the wiser. He lived a few more years, but they were bittersweet.

  Jack, I am sorry. I failed you. I could not save you. I drew up the quilt around my neck and sobbed quietly. I could almost smell his cedar cologne and his pipe tobacco, hear the steady drum of his heart beating.

  Finally I cried myself to sleep and dreamed of Jack.

  Chapter Ten—Meri

  Down Deep

  Friend had awakened, and all was well again. I forgot all about my previous loneliness. It was like it never happened because we were sisters of the heart. I had not yet told her my idea, that we should go home. It seemed less likely that she would now, but I would not give up yet. I would find a way to ask her, to convince her. This was not a safe place for her. Or for me. Maybe Mother Minerva would help us. If I asked correctly. Although my mother, the Great Minerva, had many daughters, I considered none of them my sisters. They had abandoned me, fearing Minerva’s wrath more than they loved me. I tried to explain to them my gnawing need to serve the new siren, but they did not care. If only I had not followed her so fervently while she was still a human. As if it were my fault that she had been changed. The change had saved her. Dionysus had saved her from death and had given me a friend. I would never speak ill of him for that. Although I did not serve him directly, I held no ill feelings toward him. Not as Minerva and the other mermaids did.

  And that made me an outsider. An outcast. Of all the dozens of golden-haired mermaids that swam the seas, only I had abandoned my home to serve—no, befriend—a siren. I was a shame to my kind. Mermaids had an ability that most Oceanids did not. We befriended for life. We protected. We watched over our friends. I had only one. My Friend.

  Yes, I had seen her before her great fall from the cliff of Meteora. She often swam in the azure waters off the coast near her father’s palace. She was never alone but always seemed to be alone. I understood that. To some she appeared as just one of the many Greek royal beauties who enjoyed life at court, but I saw something in her. All of Macedonia and Greece whispered her name. In fact, it was on everyone’s lips, at least the ones I heard around the harbor. A great beauty ready to marry. I had to see her, and when I found her, I watched her constantly. What must it have been like to be so loved, to be so beautiful? No one had ever called me beautiful. I occasionally looked at myself in the calm pools of water near the harbor, and I was not a hag, but I was not beautiful.

  I remembered one day in particular. Hidden in one of my secret spots in the rocks, I shooed birds away and listened to the girls whisper about the latest conquest of Alexander and Cassander. I heard stories of Ptolemy at the Battle of Ezira. How he’d stormed the front line of the enemy in such a frenzy he’d forgotten to put on his clothes. I noticed that even though many of the girls her age seemed preoccupied with court intrigues, such as who stole a casket of the new queen’s emeralds, Friend did not offer much to their conversation. She cared not that Ptolemy had the largest sword or that Cassander had lovely brown eyes. She smiled her careful smile and sank beneath the waters like she wanted to wash them all away. I understood her disappointment in the world she found herself in. I felt the same way.

  She saw me once. I hovered too near, too close to the group of giggling girls as they swam in their knee-length sheer gowns with their cascades of long hair trailing behind them like seaweed. I had not expected the sister of Alexander to dive that deeply. Most of the girls did not swim like she did. They were happy to stay on the surface, splashing one another and complaining when someone else did the same.

  After our encounter, she’d burst to the surface gasping for air while I swam with all my might back to the white stone rocks nearby. Panting for breath myself, I clung to the warm stones for a few minutes before I disappeared into the deep water. Friend told the other girls what she saw, but they hadn’t believed her. A mermaid! Of course nobody believed her. No mermaid had been seen for over a hundred years. Fanciful girl, they called her. Good for me. I never wanted to become the pet of some spoiled princess, which I probably would have been if I had showed myself openly. I would never forget the moment we saw one another. It must have been a shock for her to see me, a small, unimpressive mermaid who had invaded her swimming pool.

  After that, I could do nothing but follow her from afar, but she searched for me. I would see her scanning the waters and would duck away. I do not know why I was so curious about her. So drawn to her. It would be interesting to meet a land-girl, I thought. I tried to reason with Minerva, to explain what I felt and why, but she would not listen. She cared nothing for my feelings and did not understand my interest in Friend but scolded me for being spotted. If it happened again I would be punished. I might even be caged and kept from swimming in the open water.

  That had been so long ago. My thoughts continued along this line as I swam into the waters where all the above light vanished and the chill seeped into your bones. It was so empty here between the world above and the world below. Yet just a few more feet and I would be as close to my home as I ever would be. The heavy metal would be closed to me. It would stay closed forever. Minerva did not forgive such serious offenses as mine. I had made my choice. She showed no mercy.

  Over time I had returned here many times, sending waves of love into the darkness, but no pale face ever came to greet me. No mermaid-kind would acknowledge me or allow me entry. A few more pumps of water, and I made it to my home, the black gates still locked in place, a faint light in the distance. This was only one entrance, but it served as a reminder that I was still not welcome. I peered at the light. It was proof that life did continue without this particular daughter of Minerva. Sadly I thought of Sasha, Myray and Meera, the mermaids who were once my companions. I moaned and grasped the gate with both hands and rubbed my forehead against the unforgiving steel.

  “Minerva,” I called to my mother with my mind. Once upon a time, she would hear me as soon as I spoke her name. I did not feel that connection now, but I had to try. “Danger has come again, Mother. Roxana has the bones, and this is the last gate. She will make him live again and destroy the gate. Blood is required, my Friend’s blood. Help Friend, please.”

  No answer came. I shook the gate, but it did not budge. She could help. She should help. Friend needed her help. I called again, “Minerva,” but there came no answer. Only the slithering of a large eel, a Protector who eyed me threateningly as my hands futilely worked at the lock. He hung near now, ever closer, and I sent my most persuasive wave of love to him. There was no acknowledgment and no change in his movements. If anything, he appeared more aggressive now. I backed away from the gate, feeling hopeless. Our last battle with Roxana had been tough, nearly impossible. How much stronger would she be now that so much time had passed and her frustration grew? We needed help. More than just Ramar
a. Then it occurred to me.

  We had an ally. A forgotten ally. Heliope would not be pleased, but this was for Friend’s good. She would see that eventually. Yes, this was a good ally and a very good idea.

  Now all I had to do was retrieve him.

  Chapter Eleven—Cruise

  Crooked Heart

  The fist slapping the screen door repeatedly reverberated through my head like a guitarist who knew only one note. I stumbled away from the coffeepot, the heavy set of squad room keys jangling noisily at my side. I felt like I had when I was sixteen, the day after I took a high school dare and drank a whole bottle of crappy strawberry wine. Yep, that’s how wonderful I felt right this moment. I set the cup of piping hot coffee down on the counter and shuffled to the back door, rubbing my red eyes with my knuckle.

  I recognized Lucy’s black hair and pale skin right away, even without getting a good look at her face through the dingy lace curtain. “What’s up?” I was surprised to find her on my doorstep.

  “Somebody broke into the Pirateer last night. Took a truckload of booze. I’m ruined if we can’t find it!”

  Rubbing my hands over my face, I tried to make sense of what she was telling me. What the hell was wrong with me? “Did you call the station? Make a report?”

  “Why would I do that? I’m here! Now get your ass moving and come see. This really sucks, Cruise. Do you know how much this is going to cost the bar? Geesh, I hate spring break.”

  The old landline phone rang on the wall. Oh God, the noise. I raised a finger to Lucy and answered it. “Castille.”

  “Hey, we’ve got a murder. You think you can be bothered to show up and help us out?”

  “Murder? Who’s dead?”

  “I’ve been trying to call you for an hour. Roll your ass out of bed and get down to Chaumont, on the bay side. Down by the old pool.”

  “Chaumont? Is Nik okay?”

  “As far as I know. Now get here!”

  “On the way.” I hung up the phone with a shaking hand. What a jerk! How in the hell could he have been calling me for an hour? I’d been awake. Kind of. I grabbed my cell phone and groaned when I saw it was dead. In my drunken stupor, I’d forgotten to charge it last night. Speaking of drunken…. “What the hell was in that drink? What was it called, Witches Brew? I only took a sip and I’m still feeling it.”

  “You are such a wimp. Are you coming or not? I can’t get the chief to the bar, and I want to file a report.”

  “Sorry, Lucy, but you’ll have to wait. There’s been a murder. I have to head over to Chaumont.”

  “Murder? Who? Are you kidding me? I can’t remember the last time someone died on this island.” She chewed the inside of her lip and stared at me.

  “Don’t know who yet. Come on, I have to go. You know I can’t tell you anything about an open investigation.”

  She touched her finger to my face and pulled the skin under my eye down to stare into it. “You know, you really do need to leave the booze alone. You don’t look so hot.”

  “Thanks for the advice. Listen, don’t disturb the crime scene at the bar. I’ll be there as soon as I’m done with this. Take pictures and secure the bar, but don’t do anything else. Got it?”

  She nodded. “Aye, aye, captain.” Then she quickly stood on her tiptoes and kissed me on the mouth. She whispered, “I’m glad it’s not you.” Without another word she left me standing in the kitchen, slapping the door one last time before she left. She sped away on her moped, and I watched her from the doorway, my head throbbing and my hands sweating. That kiss wasn’t supposed to happen, but I’d have to deal with this situation later. My first murder, and I didn’t hear the radio call. Yes, this I couldn’t think about right now. I’d have to let her down easy. Lucy could be a wildcat when something didn’t go her way. And I wasn’t going her way at all. I liked her as a friend but nothing else. Dang, I didn’t need this kind of complication in my life right now.

  I turned off the coffeepot, grabbed my coffee and walked to the car. Sliding the key into the ignition, I wondered what she was talking about. Glad what wasn’t me? I shook my head and blinked, trying to clear the fog. I turned off Cadillac Drive onto Chaumont and eased down the street. I eyeballed Nik’s house. The windows were closed now and her bike was gone. Must have gone to work. At the end of the street, two cars from the Mobile County Sheriff’s Department, Belloc’s SUV and the coroner’s sedan waited on me. Nosy Mrs. Bannister stood on her porch in her scruffy pink robe watching it all. I put the car in park, slapped my hat on my head and walked toward the crime scene.

  “Officer Castille, you remember Darwin Lamplighter, our new coroner? And you know these guys.”

  I couldn’t remember their names, but I nodded as one of them gave me a halfhearted “What’s up?” They didn’t care for coming across the bridge too much. I knew for a fact Dan Belloc didn’t like including them. The Mobile County Sheriff’s Department had more deputies than a pack of dogs had fleas. “Morning, deputies. Dr. Lamplighter.” I squatted down beside Chief Belloc and watched as he pulled back the tarp that covered the body lying in the road. What I saw almost knocked the breath out of me. That was Lloyd Joshua, the island’s postmaster and only mailman. He was wearing the same clothing he’d worn last night: khaki pants, a light blue oxford and a dark blue windbreaker that had his initials on the collar. His topsider shoes were missing, and so was his watch. He’d been proud of that watch, a thank-you gift from the town after twenty years of service. I made myself look at his face.

  “When was he found?”

  “About an hour ago. Mrs. Bannister says she went out to get her paper and found Lloyd like this. Don’t see his mail truck around, and there’s no sign of his shoes.” Lloyd’s tanned face was pale but not white. His skin had a strange blue tint to it; even his lips were blue. Like he hadn’t gotten any air at all.

  “So the theory is he walked down here barefoot and died in the driveway?” one of the officers joked as he smacked on a piece of gum.

  “You fellas need something official right now?” I asked them as I stood up.

  “Can’t leave without it. In case you haven’t heard, we’ve got a new chief of police, and he’s got a hard-on for murder cases. Wants the coroner’s prelim COD ASAP.”

  With bleary eyes I stared at them and said, “I’m sure there are other murders to investigate, if this even is a murder. I still don’t get why you’re here. We could send you the documents.”

  “Just had to see for ourselves is all. Breaking in the new kid. So what’s the word, Lamplighter? The postmaster went for a barefooted stroll and decided to die right here?”

  Darwin Lamplighter stroked his awful mustache and studied the body for another minute. He pulled the tarp back over Lloyd’s face and gave us a hesitant look. “Unofficially?”

  “Yep, unofficially is fine, doc. Nobody here is going to hold your feet to the fire on this one,” Belloc said, standing up beside me. “And this isn’t usually how we do things, Lou. Let’s not make this a habit.”

  Dr. Lamplighter cleared his throat and pulled a small tube of antibacterial liquid from his pocket. “I think this man was poisoned. His nail beds are discolored, and that shade of blue isn’t from manual strangulation—not to mention there are no marks on his neck. From my preliminary examination I have found no cuts, bruises or bullet holes. He’s the right age for a heart attack, but those fingernails are dead giveaways. Pardon the pun.”

  “Pun?” Belloc asked stupidly.

  “Yes, you see I was…never mind. I’ll get Mr. Joshua to my office now, if you don’t mind.”

  “Not at all. Do what you need to, doc. Castille, come with me. You two give the doc a hand, will you?”

  They didn’t want to, but they didn’t argue with Chief Belloc. That was smart because he could be a real ass if you picked a fight with him. “You know anything about this?” he asked me.

  “I don’t know how he got here. He was at the Pirateer last night, daydreaming about the bartender. I left be
fore he did. I went home and passed out.”

  “Passed out? Where you driving drunk? You sure you didn’t get hammered with Lloyd?”

  “Hell no. I don’t drink. Much. You know that. When I left, he was sipping on a drink and hoping to talk with Lucy.”

  Belloc flicked a toothpick into the sandy roadway. “All roads lead to you then, don’t they? Mrs. Bannister says you were down here spying on her with binoculars last night. Any truth to that?”

  I couldn’t think of a thing to say that didn’t sound ridiculous. I waved my hand dismissively.

  He laughed nervously. “Yeah, I suppose you’re right. Who’d want to spy on her? But what were you doing out here? Did you see anything?”

  I toyed with the idea of telling the chief about the shadow that flew over my car but decided against it. He already thought I was a slacker for missing his call earlier. If I told him about a giant batlike shadow, he might have had me drug tested. No, I’d tell him the truth. Or at least part of it. “Nike Augustine and I had a date last night.” I stepped closer to him so the others couldn’t hear us. They were lifting Lloyd’s body and moving him to the gurney now. I turned my head and focused on Dan. “When I went to pick her up, she wasn’t there. Some lady claiming to be her Aunt Helen came to the door and said Nik wouldn’t make it. Some kind of family crisis. I tried calling her, but she didn’t answer. I guess I got carried away. I rode down here and thought I’d sit on the house a while, just to make sure everything was okay. I didn’t see Lloyd until I went to the bar after that.”

  “Helen? I didn’t know she had an Aunt Helen.”

  “Me either. That’s why I was worried.”