Siren's Call (Dark Seas)

by Debbie Herbert

  A ping sent Opal scurrying through her purse. “Gotta take this,” she apologized, scooting out of the chair. “Is there somewhere I can talk privately?”

  Lily pointed to the break room in back.

  “Be back in a minute.” Opal hurried away, the black vinyl cape flapping behind her like a bat.

  Jet arched a dark eyebrow. “Kind of secretive, isn’t she?”

  “A little.” She wondered if Opal’s boyfriend might be married.

  Jet sipped from her water bottle, then set it down slowly and deliberately. Her gaze drifted to the shop window. “I went for a swim last night and the current brought interesting news.”

  “Let me guess. Mom’s coming.”

  Jet nodded. “Judging from the sound-wave strength and pattern, I’d say to expect her in about two days.”

  Mother was the last person Lily wanted to see right now.

  “Maybe she wants to check on you. Make sure everything’s okay with the pregnancy,” Lily said hopefully.

  “Nah. It’s you she’s concerned with.”

  Lily swept up snippets of Opal’s hair on the floor, aware of Jet’s scrutiny. Damn, she didn’t want maternal pressure to leave the bayou for good and “resume her rightful position as the best siren of the sea”—words her mother eschewed with increasing regularity. Mom had gone from baffled to miffed to frustrated over the past few visits.

  A few minutes of silence descended before Jet spoke up. “You okay?”

  “Nothing I can’t handle. She’ll just pester me to take my rightful place with other merfolk.”

  Jet regarded her, eyes direct, brows knitted and chin down. A fierce look that Lily knew masked concern. “Not such a bad idea. Especially with this Twyla business.”

  “Twyla still bothering you?”

  Lily jumped at Opal’s voice and cast a furtive look at Jet, wondering how much Opal had overheard. She patted the seat for Opal to sit down. “Maybe.”

  She stirred the color and developer together and brushed streaks of color on Opal’s hair. The bright colors should perk up the rather plain face with its scattering of freckles and a slight scar that spread across one cheek. “This is a temporary dye,” she explained. “You can try out the effect and see how you like it.”

  Jet persisted with her questioning. “What does maybe mean? Either she is or isn’t bugging you.”

  “I got several hang-up calls last night. They never spoke. After the third one, I turned off my ringer.” The scissors trembled slightly in Lily’s hands as she trimmed a few uneven locks of Opal’s hair. “When I checked this morning there were seven missed calls and no voice-mail messages.”

  “Ouch!” Opal swiped the side of her neck and stared at a blood splash on her fingers.

  “I am so sorry.” Lily grabbed a towel and wiped the nick. “That’s never happened before.” Geez, how embarrassing.

  “No problem, I’ll live,” Opal assured her.

  Jet cut in, still focused on the phone calls. “Did you call back the number on the screen?”

  “Of course. But I got a recording saying the number was no longer in service. Must have used a throwaway phone.”

  Opal circled her index finger around her right temple. “Somebody’s cra-zee.”

  “Say the word and I’ll have Landry talk to Twyla,” Jet said.

  “No need to drag him into it.” Lily didn’t want her brother-in-law knowing her business.

  A collective mewling of cats turned their attention to the shop front. More than half a dozen felines in various colors and sizes perched along the window ledge, motionless and unblinking except for licking their mouths. As if they observed a delectable treat fit for a feast.

  Jet frowned. “We ought to bring Rebel to chase them away.”

  “Dog’s so ugly he wouldn’t even have to bite or bark to scare them,” Lily said drily, returning to the familiar routine of coloring and styling hair.

  The three settled into a comfortable silence as Jet continued crunching numbers and Opal observed Lily at work.

  A loud rap on the front window scared off their cat stalkers. A husky guy wearing a camouflage shirt waved and motioned for someone to open the locked door.

  “Who’s that?” Opal asked.

  Lily unfastened her apron with a sigh. “Gary.”

  “Thought you broke it off with him,” Jet said.

  “I did.”

  Jet scowled at Gary and motioned him to go away.

  Gary rapped harder on the glass. “Open up,” he yelled. “I need to talk to you, Lily.”

  People passing by on the street stopped and stared.

  “He’s making a scene,” Opal noted, tapping her lips.

  Jet stalked to the front door in brisk strides. “I’ll get rid of him.”

  “No. Let him in before he breaks the glass,” Lily said. She picked up a pink chiffon scarf from the counter and knotted it at her throat, hiding the faint line of scars where gill slits aligned both sides of her neck. She didn’t bother with it around Nash because he’d seen the marks when they were children and she’d made up a story about an accident. And she hadn’t bother to cover it up around Opal. Seeing as she had her own scar to deal with, they figured she wouldn’t ask prying questions.

  “You sure?” Jet hesitated, hand on the doorknob.

  Lily touched her scarf in a silent reminder.

  Jet turned up her collar, covering the gills that were also three inches in length on either side of the neck, extending from the top of the collarbone to her windpipe.

  At Lily’s nod, Jet unlocked the door. The smell of whiskey preceded Gary as he staggered straight to Lily.

  “Whatever I done wrong before, Lily, I’m sorry.” His eyes were weepy and red-rimmed, yet also held an odd glimmer of hope.

  “You didn’t do anything wrong,” Lily said, sweeping up her station. “I wasn’t feeling it anymore.”

  “But why? I must have done something.”

  She almost winced at the pleading note in his voice. Best to cut him off quickly.

  “I promise whatever it was, it’ll never happen again.” He stumbled closer and drew his face next to hers, trying to kiss her cheek.

  Lily stepped back, eyes watering from the whiskey fumes on his breath. She hated these kinds of scenes.

  He straightened, took off his baseball cap and began twisting it between his hands. “I couldn’t believe it when I got your message. Thanks for giving me a second chance.”

  “Message? I didn’t send you any message.” Her sympathy vanished. Stupid drunk. What a lame pretext to make a play at her again. “For the last time, Gary, I’m not interested anymore. Let’s leave it at that.”

  He flushed. “I can’t believe this. I thought you wanted to get back together but you’re so...” he waved a hand in the air “...so cold-acting.”

  Lily shrugged. “Move on. I have.”

  Gary rocked unsteadily on his heels, as if she had struck him. “But...I broke up with Wanda to see you.”

  Jet stepped in front of him. “You heard her. Time to move on.” She laid a hand on his arm and pulled him forward.

  “I’m not going anywhere.” Gary jerked his arm back and glared at Lily. “Not until she explains why she’s playing games.”

  Lily crossed her arms. “I’m not playing and I don’t like your game.” Despite the show of bravado, Lily’s stomach fluttered. Had someone—Twyla—set this up to cause trouble?

  Opal stood and placed a hand on Gary’s arm, trying to ease the confrontation. “This is obviously not working out. Maybe you and Wanda can get back together.”

  “But I want Lily,” he insisted like a two-year-old denied his favorite toy. He advanced toward the object of his desire.

  “Oh, no, you don’t.” Jet clamped an
arm on him and yanked. “Time to go.”

  “No, I don’t want— Hey, you’re strong.”

  Lily almost laughed at his stunned expression. Jet, with her rare blue mer-clan bloodline, had the strength of two men. Too bad they didn’t share a paternal parentage. The physicality could come in handy.

  Jet pushed him out the door hard enough that he fell on his ass. Gary shook his head as if to clear his mind, obviously stunned he’d been manhandled by a woman. Jet locked the door behind him and pulled down the shades.

  “Wow.” Opal pressed her fingers into Jet’s biceps. “You’ve got muscles.”

  “Um...yeah. I work out a lot.” Jet went back to the desk and resumed working, head bent over the figures.

  “Do you get that a lot from old boyfriends?” Opal asked. “Must be scary.”

  “Sometimes. He was more forceful than most.”

  Opal clutched the plastic cape closer to her body. “Twyla might have done it to piss you off.”

  “Maybe. You think so?”

  “Sure. Could be a warning for you to cool it with the men awhile.”

  Lily studied Opal’s blue eyes. They were shot through with alarm. Nice to have someone outside of family actually give a damn.

  “You could be right.” Lily lifted her chin. “But my interest isn’t with a local man right now. That should keep me safe.”

  “Really? I wouldn’t be so sure.” Opal absently ran an index finger over the scar on her cheek. “If I were you, I wouldn’t see anyone for a few weeks. Let everything cool down a bit.”

  Lily lifted her chin. “No way. Nash will be gone by then.”

  “Okay, ignore the warning signs. I just don’t want to see you get hurt.” She crossed her legs and folded her hands in her lap. “Your decision.”

  Chapter 6

  The red moon of August lay low and full, as if scorched and swollen from summer’s heat. Lily’s step skipped in time to the rhythm of her rapid pulse. It seemed like it’d been three weeks instead of three days since she’d seen Nash. She grinned at the sight of his truck and the light in the cabin. Even better, Sam Bowman’s vehicle was gone. She rapped at the door, feeling like the wolf descending on the innocent Little Red Riding Hood.

  The door flung open and she was eye level to Nash’s bare chest. She looked up and stared into verdant green. He registered no surprise at finding her on his doorstep. Casually, he leaned an arm against the doorframe.

  “You again,” he said, voice tinged with smoke and velvet.

  The low, deep timbre of sound vibration made her gut clench. Is that what her voice did to men? It was wonderfully disturbing.

  “What kind of welcome is that?” she purred, reaching up and laying a hand on the curve of his jaw.

  Nash stepped away from the heat of their touch and waved her inside. He shut the door behind her, and Lily was struck by the fact they were alone and sheltered from the world. A cozy company of two. Without a word, Nash walked into the den, snatched a T-shirt from the back of a chair and pulled it over his head.

  Darn it.

  “Why are you here, Lily?” he asked, plopping down on the sofa.

  She sat across from him and crossed her legs demurely. “To see you, of course.”

  “What do you want from me? I get the feeling it’s not to resume a childhood friendship.”

  She leaned into him, resting her hands on his bare knees. “Don’t you find me attractive?” Her lips curled upward, certain of his answer.

  “You’ll do, I suppose,” he said drily.

  Lily straightened. “Why are you so hostile? I thought after our kiss we were on more...friendly terms.”

  He frowned. “You know I’ll be leaving in a few weeks. I’m not the settling-down type.”

  But that’s because you haven’t known me. “So you say.”

  He crossed his arms, studying her. “I’m not in the market for a permanent relationship.”

  “Don’t flatter yourself, Nashoba Bowman. You haven’t heard me say I want anything of the kind.”

  “Then that leads back to my original question. What do you want?”

  You. I want you. “While you’re here, let’s see what happens,” she answered carefully. After what had happened with his past two girlfriends, she didn’t want to push too hard and scare him away. “Look, you used to be my best friend. Can’t we at least be friends now and explore if something else is there for however long you’re here?”

  His mouth twisted. “Friends with benefits?”

  “Ouch. Sounds crude when you put it like that.” That hurt, although given her reputation, most would doubt she’d be insulted by such an offer.

  “Do you think so little of yourself you’re willing to do that?”

  Lily jumped up. “According to you, my problem is that I think too highly of myself, not too little. Maybe the problem here is that you’re a coward. You think because of what happened in the past—”

  “What do you know of my past?” He rose and glared down at her, body crackling with tension.

  Oops. Best to let him tell it in his own way and in his own time. “I’m assuming something traumatic happened because of the way you act.” She paused expectantly. There—she’d provided him the perfect opening.

  He said nothing.

  “And also because you once told me you were poison.”

  “The past is dead and buried.”

  Lily shook her head. “No, it’s not. It haunts you like a ghost. Might as well have a white veil over your eyes. It clouds everything you see—and don’t see.”

  Nash walked to the back window and looked outside. “The things I don’t see,” he muttered, stuffing his hands into his pockets. “Ghosts, huh?” He rubbed his chin. “Ghosts and mermaids.”

  Lily’s stomach flopped like a fish at the conversation switch. “Mermaids?”

  “According to my grandfather, there’s an old Choctaw legend that people live undersea in the bayou swamps. He believes it, of course.”

  “Why?” Her voice was so faint, Nash didn’t hear. Lily cleared her throat and spoke louder. “Has he ever seen one?”

  Nash snorted and strolled back toward her, most of the former tension gone. “I can do you one better than that. He claims I am one. A distant relative of the undersea white people.”

  Lily gripped the sofa arm. All went dark and her peripheral vision narrowed. The only light in the opaque pitch was the green rim of Nash’s eyes; otherwise she was immersed in the black hole of his pupils. The leaf-green grew darker and all that remained was an awareness of being anchored by a sudden, strong grasp on both sides of her waist.

  “Lily?”

  The sound echoed around her brain, as if it came from some deep-sea abyss.

  “Come back to me.”

  Oxygen and lightness whooshed back into her body, as if diving upward to the sun, breeching the surface with the speed of a dolphin.

  Nash held her. Lily laid her head against his chest, closed her eyes and breathed in his scent of clean earth. The steady, strong pound of his heart hammered like a sonic boom against her ear. Thump thump. Thump thump. I am here. I am here.

  Lily’s arms folded to his back, palms pressed into the ridge of his spinal column. Sanctuary. Haven. Home.

  Time warped to snail speed like an alternate dimension or a dream where every motion, every inhalation slowed enough that every detail heightened. The warmth of his skin through the cotton fabric, the scent of musk and sandalwood, the ridge of one of his nipples against her cheek. She wanted to feel the fire of his lips, explore his mouth and lick the salty taste of his skin. Lily lifted her head, half opened her eyes, then swiftly closed them again as his head bent toward her.

  His lips kissed her forehead. Even with that chaste contact, his mouth imprinted heat.

&
nbsp; Nash inched away and moved his arms from her waist to her elbows. “What happened to you there? I was afraid you would fall off the couch before I reached you.”

  For once, a quick lie didn’t present itself to Lily. “I’m not sure.”

  “How long since you’ve eaten anything?”

  She scrunched her forehead. “I skipped lunch today, so it’s been hours.”

  “I’d offer you something here, but I’m a lousy cook. Traveling like I do means eating out most meals. So let’s go grab a bite somewhere. If you’re up to it.”

  “What about your grandfather? Shouldn’t we invite him?”

  “He’s in Mobile at a pow-wow. Goes at least four times a year and meets up with his old cronies.”

  Lily smiled as her strength returned. “So just the two of us. Like a real date?”

  “You never give up, woman.” His tone was mock-severe, lips twitching at the corners.

  “Not when I see something I want,” she agreed, dead serious.

  The concern and camaraderie in his eyes shuttered. “Friends,” he said harshly. “That’s all I have to offer.”

  “It’s a start. I’ll take it.”

  * * *

  Thirty minutes later, they were seated at a local diner. On the way over, she’d dropped her car off at home and continued to the restaurant with Nash. Lily ordered her usual shrimp cocktail and delicately nibbled on it as he cut into a huge porterhouse steak. She’d tried her best to coax Nash into going to Mobile for dinner, but he’d insisted she needed food in her system fast.

  Lily glanced uneasily at a pack of men at the bar. Gary was there, slinging back whiskey with his buds. Her ex kept looking over and muttering something to his friends. They all stared at her, smirking. And, damn, looked like most were former boyfriends.

  Between the guys at the bar and every woman making eyes at Nash, it felt as if a giant spotlight shone on the two of them. Too late, she wished they’d made do with a sandwich at the cabin.

  Lily pretended not to notice the attention. “Tell me more about the Okwa Nahollo,” she said, determined to learn more about the Choctaw legend. She’d have to ask Mom if she’d ever heard of it, too.