by KB Benson
I stop dead in my tracks. “She sang for you?”
“Yeah. Well, we took a break and went for a walk on the beach and she started singing.” Jaxon pulls out his iPhone and within seconds Iris’ voice fills the enclosed room.
“She does have an amazing voice,” I say, a little breathless. Why did she freak out so badly when I’d heard her voice, but she’s willing to sing for Jaxon?
“Yeah.” A smile spreads across Jaxon’s face.
We sit quietly, listening to Iris’ melodic voice; it would be perfect background music for Chase’s haunted movie.
“How did you think to record her?” I ask, grateful he thought of it.
Jaxon shrugs sheepishly. “Someone told me Iris sings really well and that I’d be foolish if I didn’t try to preserve it. She told me to trust her that I’d want it forever. So, when Iris started humming, I didn’t hesitate to grab my phone. And she was right—I want it forever.”
“Who was it?” Who else has heard Iris sing?
Jaxon looks dreamy. “The most beautiful girl I’ve ever met.”
“Ah, so there is a girl you’re interested in.”
Jaxon seems to fall off cloud nine. “What? No, well… she’s beautiful but she’d never… no.”
“You never know, she might.”
Jaxon’s expression turns dreamy again. “I’ve never seen hair so red…”
“She sounds like one of a kind. Hey,” I interrupt the pure melody still weaving its way around the two of us. “Could I borrow Iris’ song? I’m helping a group with a haunted movie for the school talent show; and if Iris isn’t afraid to sing in front of people, I think this would be the perfect finishing touch.”
Jaxon clutches his phone in his fist like he doesn’t dare give up such a thing.
“Dude, you can even just text the recording to me.”
Jaxon still looks nervous, but he nods and quickly types my number into his phone. Within seconds I hold proof of Iris’ intoxicating gift in the palm of my hand.
Chapter 27
IRIS
“I’m in the first assembly, so I’ll be front row cheering you on,” I say as Jace pops all his knuckles and then starts over again—nervous.
“Oh good,” he says, exaggerating his relief. “I don’t want to make all the girls in the school fall head over heels… just one.”
Blood rushes to my cheeks, and I tip my head down. Jace should stop making me do that. “Don’t worry, I will be.”
Jace pops each of his fingers again, the muscles and tendons straining across his bones.
“You should stop doing that.” I rest my hand on top of his. “You’re going to hurt yourself and then how will you play the guitar?”
Jace turns his hand so his palm presses against mine, and his fingers curl securely around my hand. “That’s why we’re together. You’re so smart.”
I shake my head. “Whatever.”
Jace wraps his arm around my shoulders and gently presses his lips to my temple, warmth radiating across my skin. I close my eyes for a moment, soaking it in.
“I’ve never been this nervous before,” Jace whispers, breaking my meditation.
“You don’t need to be nervous. You’re going to do amazing.” Jace looks at me doubtfully. “If you get nervous on stage, though, just look at me and pretend like we’re alone again. Just sing the song for me.”
Jace smiles. “I think I can do that.”
“Good.” I pull his arm from my shoulder and slide my hand into his as we walk to the auditorium. When we reach the auditorium doors, I step back. “You should probably go get warmed up, don’t you think?”
“Probably. Can I walk you to your seat first? Then I promise I’ll go warm up.”
The blood rush feeling happens again as he places his hand on my lower back, escorting me through the doors. We walk through the crowd of chattering teenagers toward the front of the room. Looking at the stage, Jace figures about where he’ll sit to perform and then guides me back and forth across the front row until he finds the perfect spot. He plops me down in the cushioned seat and places a soft kiss on my cheek.
“Don’t go anywhere.”
“Never,” I whisper, unable to look away from his dark eyes. Jace walks back through the crowded auditorium leaving me alone in my seat. It’s odd having his pull against me. Ever since I can remember it has only ever been me, the ocean, and the moon. Throwing Jace into the mix is definitely causing chaos inside my blood. The pull toward the ocean still calls to my yearning body, the phases of the moon still trigger a dormant part of my very being; but Jace—Jace pulls everything I am to him.
I close my eyes, remembering. I remember when we first came to the coast of California centuries ago—we were just supposed to be passing through from the East, but something changed. Damion stopped the clan from moving forward, his anger having peaked as we left Italy.
The flash of fire from underneath the waves sparks against my vision, I hear the muffled screams and cries of those on the Sicilian shore. My heart pounds—the pounding for adventure, the desire to have even one of the humans dare to take a step into the water.
We wait, floating just below the water’s surface. We know all the humans can see is the inky well that hides our secret—the secret they are beginning to piece together.
Arrows slice into the water, possibly a scare tactic, possibly an attempt to kill those who had killed the humans. Regardless of why they fire at us, my brothers and sisters sink lower into the depths of the sea where their arrows cannot reach—no fear, no worry, just watchful. No matter what the humans believe they know about us, they do not know enough. They cannot know how many of us there are, they cannot know how sinister a siren can be, they cannot know about the overwhelming desire a siren has to survive no matter the circumstance. No, they cannot know any of this, and so they’ll surely all die if they try.
As night drags on, the mob of torches and arrows subsides. Most of the humans return home; but there are many men who stay on the shore of the Punta del Faro to keep ‘watch’—at least that’s what they call it even though they fall asleep. Damion knows we are going to have to move on soon; the Sicilians are too suspicious; they are too close to us—their fear turning to anger. We need to dispose of them before leaving, put their curiosity to rest.
As night coaxes the men on shore into a silent still slumber, twelve of us sentries—for that’s the charge I held before taken to be the seeker—pull our shimmering bodies from the ocean, droplets of water rolling from our skin like diamonds falling to the earth.
I can almost feel the burn of strengthened muscles in my arms again as I remember pulling myself across the sand. How I loved my position as a sentry? How many times have I wished to give up my charge as a seeker to return to those waters?
We each pull ourselves up next to one of the men lying unconscious on the beach. I lay my chest across his, my tail resting gently on the sand. His face is peaceful as he sleeps—no concerns, no fear, no pain. I gently brush his hair away from his forehead knowing that is all about to end. My fingers stroke the man’s clammy skin, and I question who he is. Does he have a wife? Children? It doesn’t matter, but I still wonder.
“Iris,” a familiar, silky voice hisses.
My head snaps up to look at Cadencia, the seeker of our clan.
“Iris, stop fawning over him. We have a job to do.”
I nod. We have a job to do, I repeat in my head. Bringing my lips to his cheek, I place a gentle, farewell kiss on his dewy skin. “Farewell,” I whisper before a pure melody floods from my voice, entrancing this man and one on each side of him in the desire of it.
Slowly the man and his partners open their eyes and the satisfaction that swells inside of me is like getting a fix of my addiction. My mouth waters at the thought of tasting human blood as it fills the ocean, and excitement bubbles inside of me.
A silver shimmer covers the men’s eyes—that’s it. They’re trapped. My job is simple now. The men will follow me int
o the water, giving themselves up to the Harvest. Slowly I pull myself off the man, and slither back toward the waves crashing against the sand. The men stay low, crawling on their hands and knees so they are at my level. I glance to my right and see Astheneia, my twin sister, and the other ten sentries each luring one male into the water. Although Asthen and I are twins, we look nothing alike. She has the flaming red hair of our mother whereas I take more after my father.
Damion always told me my song is the strongest song that has ever existed among sirens. How was Jace able to break through it? Before I can think too much about it, however, I am drawn back into my memory.
Just as the men step into the warm water, a light rounds the corner of the hill blocking the village from the ocean. A woman stands holding fire, too far from us to do any good. A blood-curdling scream erupts from her throat and within seconds the hill lines with others coming to witness the slaughter of the Sicilian men. Each grab a weapon—men, women, and children. They charge down the hill without fear in their eyes, simply anger and hatred.
They scream for their loved ones as they storm the beach; we sentries just slither deeper into the ocean. We don’t float this time. When the shelf disappears beneath our bodies, we slip deep under the ocean’s surface, the entranced men following suit. They will follow us until they drown or are harvested.
The screams grow quiet as we sink deeper, knowing the humans cannot hurt us. Wooden arrows hit the crest of the waves and return to shore with them. A few bullets break through the surface of the water yet still don’t penetrate far enough—at first. Like the abrupt flight of a bird, the attack stills, nothing breaches the water; and, for a moment, I think the humans have accepted their fate. The calm water drifts above my head.
Gasping, I lurch away from the surface. Thick, metallic arrows cut through the seemingly unbreakable threshold, their weight driving them deeper into the dark water. Within minutes, we know we aren’t safe. We grab our catches, latching our tails to their appendages, and drag them down instead of coaxing them to follow us. As we turn around, an arrow slices the water inches from my face. I don’t look back. I just keep moving. More arrows rain down around me, and I try to not think about them piercing my body. Another arrow hits one of my prey in his shoulder. My head whips toward him, but my speed does not falter. Until I hear the most painful sound I’ve never heard before.
Sirens rarely ever scream; so when Cadencia does, I know it’s bad. I release my prey, forgetting the mission for a moment. Cadencia’s screams grate my bones far more than any human scream ever has. I feel her scream inside of me, feel her pain. I swim to where Cadencia writhes beneath the waves, a torturous sound escaping her lips. Silver blood pours from her chest as she grasps wildly for the arrow that protrudes at an odd angle from her body.
Above us, her prey kicks his feet toward the surface—his hypnotization broken by Cadencia’s injury. My prey still follow me, swimming slowly in my wake. Panicking, I press my hands around the arrow against Cadencia’s chest unable to do anything else.
“What do you want me to do?” I ask frantically.
“Kill me,” she says without hesitation.
I pause.
“Kill me,” she repeats. “If Damion knows I’ve failed, my fate will be much worse than death. Iris, kill me.”
I glance toward the surface where Cadencia’s prey had escaped and then look back toward her body surrounded by her shimmering blood. “I can’t. I can’t kill you. There must be a way to save you.” I refuse to let Cadencia die, although I have no idea how she will live.
“Gah.” I grab my arm where blood slowly oozes from an arrow having grazed me. I rub the wound and shake off the pain.
Unsure of my next move, I grasp Cadencia’s upper arm. Her blue glistening scales prickle the skin on my fingers, and I pull her deeper into the ocean. Above, my prey break through my mesmerizing spell and swim to shore. Whatever fate lies in store for Cadencia mirrors my own now. I’ve lost my prey as she did, and Damion will never show mercy on those who are distracted during the Harvest. A ball of regret fills the hollow between where my heart should be and my stomach. I won’t get to taste the blood of my victims tonight, and I am disgusted by that.
The arrows still rain down around us, a trail of silver and black blood distorted by the ocean’s movement flows behind. A siren’s blood is not black, only silver. I pull Cadencia harder, faster when all at once my tail locks up in a series of spasms. The pain is everywhere, moving from cell to cell across my body. I grit my teeth to hold in the scream and let go of Cadencia’s limp form. Her body sways to and fro with the ocean. I bite down the pain and give my body a once over to see what happened. I twist to see my back—nothing. My fingers brush my bare stomach—intact. And then I see the arrow, a twin of the one paralyzing Cadencia, jutting out of my own tail.
I growl to cover the immediate panic rushing through me. There isn’t time for us to both be injured, and I did NOT let my prey go for this. I try to swim toward Cadencia to continue our descent, but one flick of my tail ushers torrents of pain.
I cry out. The tears would’ve escaped if I hadn’t had so much practice holding them in lately. Instead of tears, anger blurs my vision. Without a second thought, I fold myself in half and grasp the body of the arrow. One, two, three—I yank it out. The pain subsides as blackness pours from the gaping hole along with my own silver blood.
Panicked, I rub the opening, trying to cleanse the wound as much as possible. More black mist flows into the water, but the rubbing works; and finally, only my own blood trickles from the gash. I swim to Cadencia and attempt to rub the skin around the poisoned arrowhead—that must be what it is. My attempt is futile. The arrow is deep in her chest, and I don’t dare push it through to open her wound to the ocean’s healing…
I shudder at the memory of Cadencia’s blood. How the blue ocean turned silver that night instead of the red we’d viciously craved. Within moments, however, I’m flooded with memories much more horrendous.
Damion was not pleased with the turn of events as we tried to overtake the Sicilian men for the last time before moving on to the Americas. His anger rippled through the waves.
I bring Cadencia to Damion knowing there is nowhere we can hide from him. He sees everything in the ocean when it comes to his clan.
Without making eye contact, I lay Cadencia’s still form on the ocean floor in front of Damion. Her chest barely rises and falls, but at least she’s still alive. I want to explain to Damion that the arrow is poisoned, that he needs to save Cadencia, but I know he will not listen. I know he will not care, and so I stay silent.
“Come, daughter.” He opens his arm for me to approach him and the body of my fallen sister. Damion sits Cadencia’s body upright as I approach, Asthen at his elbow watching carefully, no, admiring.
“You selfish girl,” he hisses. “You chose your own desires to save this pound of flesh instead of bringing three bodies for your clan to feed on. Some may go hungry because of you.”
May. They “may” go hungry, but they “won’t”. I don’t say anything. I just stare at the ocean floor.
“Iris,” Damion bellows to the surrounding sirens watching the onslaught of punishment, “will be punished for her crimes. Beginning with finishing what she started…”
I look at Damion confused. He rests his large hands on my shoulders and pushes me to the floor so I’m at the same level as Cadencia. I can’t help but notice how pride bleeds from Asthen’s face as she watches my punishment. She and I haven’t really seen eye to eye in a long time.
“Finish it,” he hisses again. “Finish her.”
The shock punches me in the stomach like an anchor as I understand what he wants me to do. He wants me to kill my friend who I’d worked so hard to save. He wants to demonstrate that I receive nothing if I choose myself over the clan. I fight the tears burning in my eyes. Even having them is a sign of weakness.
I gently wrap my fingers around the arrow’s smooth metal. It’s harder to
push the arrow the rest of the way through her body than I thought it would be. I feel the crack of bone as I force the unnatural material through her fragile flesh. As soon as the arrow exits her body from the other side, Cadencia’s eyes turn black and her body disintegrates—sea foam dispersing into the still water.
I can’t breathe.
I can’t breathe.
I stare at what’s left of Cadencia’s exquisite form as it floats away and disappears in the darkness. A single tear slips from my eye and is carried away with the water’s movement, the shimmer barely noticeable among the chaos.
That was the second time I knew something was wrong with me. Sirens don’t cry; we easily hide what we feel, but I can’t.
I shake the image from my head, returning to the present and the bustling bodies around me. The chatter amplifies as student after student pours into the auditorium. It wasn’t that long ago I was a sentry, but it feels like an eternity since Damion punished me by removing me from the ocean and giving me the assignment of a seeker. I remember being guarded as he forced me to drink the potion of his own making that would strip me of my right to swim among the sirens—the potion that would destroy my beautiful tail forever so I could walk on land.
The sour taste is still etched into my tongue. I remember at first trying to resist the urge to return to the ocean was physically painful. A few times I’d felt like my body was going to rip itself apart if I didn’t succumb to the desire to enter the cool, refreshing waves that promised a welcoming comfort beneath the moonlight. I remember all too well Damion’s threat, however.
“You do not return, daughter, unless you have prey. You are no longer a welcome part of our clan until you prove you belong here—prey in hand.”
