The Scent of Salt & Sand: An Escaped Novella

by Kristin Cast

  The Scent of Salt & Sand

  An Escaped Novella

  Kristin Cast & P.C. Cast

  Copyright

  Diversion Books

  A Division of Diversion Publishing Corp.

  443 Park Avenue South, Suite 1008

  New York, NY 10016

  www.DiversionBooks.com

  Copyright © 2016 by Kristin Cast & P.C. Cast

  All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce this book or portions thereof in any form whatsoever.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

  For more information, email info@diversionbooks.com

  First Diversion Books edition October 2016

  ISBN: 978-1-68230-342-9

  Also in the Escaped series

  Amber Smoke

  Scarlet Rain

  This book is dedicated to our House of Night fans! We heard you when you asked for more. Happy reading to the most loyal fans in the world!

  Prologue

  Once, when the world was young and wild, and immortals walked beside mortals, Achelous, the most ancient and feared of the river gods, fell in love with Calliope, the exquisite Muse of epic poetry. Their affair was brief, but passionate. The gods loved with such blazing desire that, as with any all-consuming fire, their love extinguished on a pyre of self-absorption.

  This fleeting union bore daughters named Sirens, demigods who reflected their parents’ divine nature. Like their mother, they were preternaturally beautiful, gifted with voices that even the Muses envied, for they also had the ability to mold the wills of men.

  From their river god father, they were gifted with the ability to shift their forms, so that they could always find solace in any of the waters of the earth. But their father’s powerful nature was not as easily contained as was their birthright from their more refined mother. Achelous was one of the oldest of the gods—brother to the mighty Titans—so hidden beneath the surface loveliness of Calliope’s daughters lurked a predatory nature, so base a beast that mankind had no choice but to fall prey to them.

  Calliope built her beloved daughters a magnificent palace on an island called Anthemoessa. Achelous was devoted to them as well, and convinced Poseidon to allow the Sirens to hunt in the mighty ocean god’s waters.

  At first all was well—the Sirens prospered. Calliope was well pleased by the stories told of their beauty and their magical voices. Achelous was well pleased by the stories told of their prowess as huntresses, for in his watery world the weak must fall to the strong.

  Time passed and the world changed. Still the Sirens prospered. They learned to hide their true nature under the ruse of beauty, but that ruse only worked as long as their human prey did not glimpse what waited beneath their gentle façade. As with all gifts given by the gods, they came with a price. In order to mate and procreate, the Sirens had to revert to their True Form, and that visage was so terrifying, so fantastically, unbelievably horrible, that humans responded on a visceral level—their minds were unable to comprehend the truth of the Sirens, and they went utterly mad. It became a mercy for the Sirens to kill each time they loved.

  Some Sirens rebelled. They weren’t murderers. They only desired peace and the love of a mate, but allowing a human to see a True Form and live proved impossible. If they weren’t driven mad, the men were still utterly changed, and that change put the Sirens in danger of being hunted and exterminated, for though they were the daughters of immortals and as such had the ability to live for centuries, they could be killed if they were beheaded or burned on land.

  Perhaps it was because they could not love without death, or perhaps it was because their father’s nature proved stronger than their mother’s, but over the eons the Sirens became comfortable with their design—they perfected their killing techniques, and nurtured the terrible myth that was their story.

  Eventually, power did as it is wont to do—it corrupted. The Sirens reveled in their power over men, drawing more and more humans to their remote isle, toying with them, loving them, and ending them.

  The wives of slain sailors began to pray. They beseeched Hera, the mother of Olympus. Over and over the mortal women begged the goddess to help them—to contain the Sirens—to end their reign of terror.

  Hera heard her worshipers and called on the Furies to aid her. The Furies agreed with the mother of Olympus—the Sirens must be contained for the good of the Mortal Realm, but they also understood that, unlike the monsters and murderers that filled the immortal hell of Tartarus, the Sirens were not responsible for the nature gifted to them by their father. So the Furies decided that they would create a special cove for them at the edge of Tartarus, where they would be allowed to live out eternity frolicking within the confines of the Underworld. Hera agreed, with one slight addition to the Furies’ plan. She, who understood the cleverness of the Sirens’ predatory nature, cursed them. As long as they remained in Tartarus, they would stay eternally young and beautiful, but should they ever enter the Mortal Realm again, they would immediately begin to age, sicken, and eventually die a mortal death. Then, with one swift stroke from the mother of Olympus, the Sirens were banished from the Mortal Realm for eternity.

  No matter how lovely a prison is, it is still a prison. The Sirens waited in their forced exile, planning and plotting with the brilliance of a Muse and the patience of an immortal, until one day Tartarus fell ill, and their prison weakened, allowing a glimmer of the Mortal Realm to shine through the veil that separated them from their truest desire—freedom.

  Whispers from a world both foreign and seductive slipped through the veil, illuminating their gilded cage with a marvelous knowledge of a new magic called technology.

  The Sirens continued to watch and wait as they learned everything they could about the modern mortal world—and as they waited, the tear in the veil unraveled enough to allow a few of them at a time to secretly slip from their prison to the Mortal Realm.

  The journey was fraught with danger, which did not end once they arrived. The curse was upon them then, and they aged swiftly, which forced them to return to their prison in the Underworld.

  But the Sirens were wise. They had a plan. They had been cursed by Hera—their children had not been. It became their mission—their obsession—to mate with mortal men over and over through generations until the blood that tied them to their mothers’ curse was diluted enough to allow a new breed of Siren to exist, free and powerful once more, in the modern world.

  The Sirens understood that it might take decades, centuries even, to produce children who could survive in the modern world, but immortality breeds patience, and the Sirens had become very, very patient.

  This time they would be more careful.

  This time they would be successful.

  This time, no one would stop them.

  Chapter One

  “What the hell is going on over there?” Dean nodded toward the line stretching down three blocks.

  “Mystique,” Kait grumbled.

  “Mystique? I thought that club was only open on weekends. It’s Tuesday.”

  “They’re having one of their costume parties. They’re all the rage.”

  Clueless, Dean shrugged.

  “Man, you have got to get a life outside this job.” Kait slowed the police car to a crawl. “You seeing what I’m seeing?”

  “Open containers,” Dean sighed as a young woman tripped and toppled to the sidewalk, sending a half-empty liquor bottle shattering on
the concrete. “At the very least.”

  “They’d have a much better night if they just waited a few more minutes until they were inside,” Kait huffed as she flashed the lights and pulled the cruiser over.

  As the two officers climbed out of the car, a young man stepped out of line and locked eyes with Dean. Anxiety pinched his features—a look Dean knew all too well after years of patrolling the streets of San Francisco. “Lesnek,” he called to his partner. “We might have a problem over here.”

  The glaring guy fidgeted with his jacket, the white fabric switching to red then blue in the lights.

  “Don’t do it,” Dean muttered, pushing the car door closed.

  The man bolted, throwing a small baggie into the steady flow of traffic.

  “Lesnek!” Dean shouted. “He threw something into the street!”

  “Got it! I’ll follow you in the car!”

  Blood pulsed behind his ears, interrupted only by Kait, calling in the pursuit to dispatch.

  Dean launched himself down the street after the man in the white jacket. “Stop! SFPD!” he shouted as White Jacket turned a blind corner. Dean followed, weapon drawn. “Stop!” He repeated the order as the man disappeared over a rusted metal fence.

  Following the perpetrator’s lead, Dean climbed onto a dumpster and thrust himself over the chain link. Dean landed on the pavement and forced his legs to resume running, ignoring the pain barking in his ankles. White Jacket had a bigger lead now, and he took advantage of it, darting into another alleyway. Dean pumped his arms faster, willing his legs to join the quickened pace. He turned the corner. Nothing. “Shit!” he spat, peering down the narrow corridors on his right and left. “I lost him,” he exhaled into the radio. “Behind the abandoned Walgreens warehouse.”

  He cursed again, kicking an empty can with the toe of his boot.

  “Help me.” A weak groan twisted in the air around Dean.

  He raised his weapon, letting it lead him down one of the narrow walkways White Jacket had used to escape.

  “Quiet! Be still!” Sharp hisses emanated from a dark corner of the alley.

  Dean clicked his flashlight on.

  Air fled his lungs as he stared, unblinking, at the creature looming on all fours over a trembling victim. “Step back!” He tried to shout, but wasn’t sure if the words even left his lips.

  The creature’s violet scales lifted like the scruff of a dog as it screeched, and drove its long teeth into the thin flesh of the man’s neck. Blood sprayed through air, splattering against the concrete.

  Dean fired once, twice. The boom of the gun pierced his ears and rattled his bones.

  The fanged monster shrieked and hurled itself at him, knocking him on his back before scurrying up the nearest building like a spider. Dean rolled to his stomach, searching the black pavement for his gun. Sirens wailed in the distance as he found the cool metal. He lifted the pistol, but it was too late. The creature was gone, leaving Dean in a pool of thick blood.

  Chapter Two

  Melody took a deep breath and dove into the cobalt waters. The velvety liquid swallowed her, and she remained still, sinking, until the jutting peaks of the shoreline were a wavering mirage on the surface. Gentle vibrations hummed along her skin as its True Form took hold, sending waves of relaxation coursing through her limbs. She curled into a ball, somersaulting weightlessly. Through the light-streaked water, deep emerald scales seemed to twist and dance on her legs. She wiggled her toes, which had sprouted an almost translucent webbing since submersion.

  A body dropped into the water. Waves pushed against Melody, forcing her farther from shore. She kicked to combat the pulse of the water and steer herself away from her sisters, who bobbed around her like ducks.

  She forced a puff of air out of her nose. Bubbles fled to the surface, tickling her forehead along the way. With most everyone back from the Mortal Realm, the pool felt small. It was better when a dozen of them were gone. Then she could snake through the saltwater without worrying about collisions. But the pool would be crowded for one more day, until another group was selected to make the hellacious journey above. Fear flapped within her chest. She was now old enough to be chosen.

  Her legs collided with something hard.

  Melody! Water muted the word, but annoyance stayed hooked to it.

  She popped her head out of the water.

  “Gah, Melody, watch where you’re going. You almost kicked me in the face.”

  Melody waded to shallower water and pressed her feet into the sandy waterbed. “Sorry, Arietta. I didn’t see you.” She smiled.

  “Ugh.” Arietta’s cheeks were pink with youth, but her dark eyes were dulled from decades of struggle. “You always have that stupid grin on your face.”

  Staring at her elders made Melody’s stomach sink with foreboding. She averted her gaze. “I’m just happy to be at home.”

  Arietta scoffed. “Home? You’re too young to remember the meaning of the word.”

  “It’s not so bad here. We have light, and water, and—”

  “Stop right there. You must be joking.” Arietta pointed to the sky. Mossy brown scales glinted on her arm, the same color as her eyes. “That is not the sun. And this is not the ocean.” She slapped the surface of the water. “I hope I’m chosen again. Better yet, I hope you’re chosen.” Arietta swam away, her deliberate kicks spraying water onto Melody.

  Melody stood in the shadow of Arietta’s words.

  She tried to find her smile, but her lips only twitched slightly. Arietta had lived centuries longer than Melody. She’d had free reign in the Mortal Realm along with others, including Melody’s mother. With the thought, Melody’s shoulders slumped, and her gaze fell to the water.

  She stared at her reflection, calling upon memories of the woman she missed every day. They had the same snowy skin, deep green eyes, and bright copper hair. Often she was told that she looked like Melisma’s clone.

  “You’re my mini me,” her mother used to say, and rest her forehead against Melody’s. She closed her eyes, inhaling the ghost of her mother’s scent, salt and sand. Her mother’s smell was vibrant and alive, not like the dull scents that blew through this section of Tartarus. It used to tickle her nose and bring goose bumps to her skin.

  Melody opened her eyes. Wrinkles formed on the bridge of her thin nose as joy again rested within her.

  “I just got the list of names from Rhapsody herself. You ready to tell the lucky girls?”

  Allegra’s chipper words emanated from the alcove behind Melody, bouncing off of the cave walls, which made it almost impossible to have a private conversation anywhere. Like the others, Melody had learned to ignore the chatter. But Rhapsody was a name she couldn’t disregard.

  Melody gathered her thick strawberry hair and peeked over her shoulder. Harmony’s gray eyes caught hers. She stifled a nervous cough.

  Harmony released a tired sigh. “It’s already time to make the journey again?”

  No. Noiselessly, Melody exited the pool and tiptoed onto shore.

  “Can’t keep Siren Tours closed down for too long. It’s bad for business,” Allegra noted.

  “You’re right,” Harmony said, refreshed. “Let me see the names.”

  Melody hurried along the crescent-shaped shoreline until she was well out of the women’s path. She darted to a large boulder, and squatted down beside it. If they didn’t see her, maybe she’d be passed over.

  “Melody?” The word was a whisper. “No, Allegra, not yet. Do you even think she’s ready?”

  Melody wrapped her arms around her shins and squeezed tight. Her feet sank deeper into the sand, along with her hope of going another season without having to travel to the Mortal Realm.

  “It really doesn’t matter what I think, or you for that matter. We all had to go above when we reached twenty-five.” Allegra released a sharp breath. “It’s her turn.”

  Melody pinched her eyes shut.

  “But she seems so young.” Harmony’s soft tone steadily echoed of
f the craggy walls.

  “She’s naïve. All of our younger sisters are. They can’t remember a time before Tartarus. What we lost…” Allegra cleared her throat. “But you’ll be there to teach her what’s to be done.”

  “Yeah.” Harmony paused. “Her mother and I were close. Let me tell her.”

  Melody’s chest tightened as her heart beat ferociously. Why hadn’t she run, chosen a proper place to hide? But what did it matter? Their cove was so small. She wouldn’t have remained hidden for long.

  Harmony’s shadow fell over her. “Melody?” Her fingertips rested on Melody’s quivering shoulder. “Mel?”

  She shrugged. “You know I don’t like to be called Mel.”

  Harmony squatted in front of her, displacing the sand, which buried Melody’s feet in its cool depths.

  “It’s your time.”

  Slowly, Melody opened her eyelids and met Harmony’s gaze. “Can’t it wait? You yourself said I’m too young.”

  “I said you seem young. This place has that effect. Your experiences have been so limited. But it’s time to grow up.” Like always, Harmony’s smile was soft and warm. It was nearly impossible to be mad or afraid when she turned it on. Melody had decided long ago that that smile was the main reason her mother had chosen Harmony to look after her.

  “But what if what happened to Mom happens to me?”

  “Traveling to the Mortal Realm is dangerous, but what happened to your mom doesn’t happen often. Plus, I’ll be there to protect you.”

  “Promise?”

  “Definitely.” She stood and offered Melody her hand. “Now, let’s go tell the others the good news. It’ll make you feel better.”

  She followed Harmony and Allegra as they found each girl and told her she had been chosen to go above. They squealed and laughed and hugged. But Melody felt hollow.