Night Tide

by Kory M. Shrum

  “Last night another boy was killed. By another female siren,” Kristine said plainly, and not for the first time, Reese appreciated how little she wasted words. “He was drowned by two female sirens in the cove.”

  A murmur of disbelief circled the amphitheater. A few werewolves shifted uncomfortably.

  “We don’t know why this happened or what is causing the unrest, but we need to address the problem nonetheless.”

  “Why?” asked a young man in the front.

  If Kristine was bothered by this interruption, or a question to her authority, she kept the emotion perfectly hidden.

  “Our relationship with the humans depends on it. To the human mind, it’s simply us and them. Right now, we—the monsters—are responsible for a boy’s death, whether we like it or not. For that reason alone, we will need to pool our resources and help with the investigation. Ethan Benedict is looking into the problem and we will offer him any assistance that we can. If he approaches you, or one of his—envoys—approaches you, do what they ask, within reason.”

  She said it as if anyone in this town would refuse Ethan Benedict anything at all. The demon was terrifying by most standards. Giving him whatever petty requests he desired seemed preferable to the alternative.

  “Let’s start by opening the floor for comments. Has anyone heard, seen or smelled anything strange in the last week? I know most of you were with me last night,” she said, alluding to the pack-wide run that happened every full moon. “But it seems the sirens’ restlessness began a week ago.”

  A young woman, eighteen or nineteen years old, raised her hand. Kristine nodded in her direction.

  “Last week Trick and I,” she gestured to the young man on her right. His hand was on the woman’s thigh, giving Reese the impression they might be a couple. “Were down at the beach until sunset. As we were leaving, we saw a car roll by several times.”

  “What did the car look like?”

  “It was a black BMW,” she replied, scratching her nose. “It wouldn’t have been weird except that it passed by several times.”

  “And it would slow down as it was passing us,” the guy named Trick added. He had rings through his nose and eyebrows. “At one point I called out, ‘What’s your problem, man?’”

  “But it just drove off,” the woman added.

  “Are you sure it was the same car?” Kristine asked, folding her arms over her chest. “A lot of demons drive BMWs.”

  Kristine was right about that. They drove Mercedes or BMW and black or red was the color of choice.

  “It was the same car,” the two kids said at the same time. “It was leaking transmission fluid. I could smell it.”

  Kristine folded her arms across her chest. “And a man was driving?”

  “No,” the girl said.

  “Yeah,” the boy said.

  They exchanged a look.

  “We didn’t actually see the driver,” the girl clarified. “The windows were tinted.”

  “Maybe a vampire?” someone added. “They like dark tint.”

  “Demons also hate sunlight,” someone else argued from a row higher behind Reese. She turned to see who was speaking, but they’d already fallen silent.

  “It’s the asshole’s car of choice.”

  This caused a ripple of laughter to echo through the theater.

  “We’ll let BMW know for their next ad campaign.” Kristine flashed a reluctant smile. “Did you see plate numbers or anything?”

  The kids shrugged, apologetic. It was clear they didn’t want to disappoint their alpha.

  But Kristine was smiling. “Thanks for telling us. We never know what might help. Anyone else?”

  No one spoke for a long time.

  Kristine looked ready to speak when a woman in the front interrupted her.

  “The storm,” she said.

  The woman had bleached blonde hair in a pixie cut. When she leaned forward, putting her elbows on her knees, the hair fell into her dark green eyes. Reese admired her form from where she sat. She was built like a military commando. Reese half expected her to be in cargo pants and combat boots. But the woman wore dark jeans and sneakers, her massive arms poking out of a sleeveless T-shirt.

  “That storm,” she said again, looking into Kristine’s eyes. “Don’t you remember it? It rolled in last night too. And the week before.”

  “I remember it,” Kristine said, frowning. “Both times it came in really quick.”

  “What connection does that have to the sirens?” the inquisitive boy asked.

  “It means there’s magic involved,” Kristine said.

  The blond snorted. “That really narrows it down.”

  She had a point. Most of the supernaturals in town could directly or indirectly control magic.

  Reese thought of the storm that had rolled over her head the night before. Though she’d been in the ocean, she’d felt its power.

  Reese spoke up. “I was in the water last night and felt the magic. Someone was definitely using it.”

  A few murmurs bubbled up along the rows. Kristine considered her for a long moment before adding, “Then we are looking at someone who can call magic. A witch or a demon.”

  “Or something older,” the blond commander said.

  “Would you agree it came from the sea?” Kristine asked.

  Reese nodded. “Yeah. It rolled in from the south.”

  Voices rippled through the amphitheater. Several shifters turned in their seats, looking toward the back of the theater. Reese followed their gaze.

  A vampire had arrived. Uninvited.

  Liam stood under an oversized black umbrella, his dark eyes fixed on Reese. He motioned for her. Reese faced front again, only to find Kristine observing the exchange.

  “We’re almost done here, Liam. One minute.” Kristine seemed neither surprised nor offended by the vampire’s arrival. “Does anyone else have anything to add?”

  When no one spoke up she said, “That’s it for today then. Remember what I said about keeping your eyes and noses open. If you learn something, I want to be the first to know.”

  The magic covering the amphitheater faltered and broke. The warmth receded and Reese stood from the stone bench, grateful to be done. Sitting any longer would’ve made her ass fall asleep.

  Even so, her legs tingled as she politely pushed through the crowd, smiling and excusing herself when necessary.

  She stopped short of the vampire with his shock of thick dark hair and piercing blue eyes. She wasn’t exactly friends with the living vampire. They knew of each other and had spoken on several occasions. But they weren’t inviting each other to game night or anything. Liam owned a bar, The House of the Setting Sun, in Red Light. Like Kristine, he was one of the primary fixtures of Castle Cove.

  Therefore, it was more than a little strange that the vampire should come to a pack meeting and single her out. Why would he want to talk to her and not Kristine?

  “What’s up?” Reese asked, glad to hear that her voice was calm and curious rather than anxious.

  “Ethan heard you were in the cove last night,” he said. His ocean blue eyes fixed on hers. “He wants to talk to you.”

  “Where?” she asked. The idea of refusing Ethan Benedict was incomprehensible. Not only because he had built this town with his own two hands and a hell of a lot of magic, but because of every creature in this town, he was by far the strongest. If he wanted something, he would have it. And Reese could see no reason to make enemies with a man like that.

  “He’s at home. Do you know where that is?” Liam asked. His pale white hand adjusted itself on the umbrella handle.

  Reese admitted she did not. Ethan protected his privacy fiercely though Reese thought this sentiment was ridiculous. It wasn’t like anyone in Castle Cove would dare approach the demon at his own home, even if they knew where it was.

  Kristine had a different theory, which she’d shared one night after Alpha’s had closed. They’d both just thrown back a shot of tequila when the
alpha said, “It isn’t about the townspeople.”

  She’d poured a second shot.

  “It’s about outsiders. Ethan doesn’t want the first bloodsucking rogue to roll through town to be able to pull anyone off the street and get directions.”

  Liam tilted the umbrella to better block the sun, dragging Reese’s attention back to the present. “I’ll ride with you then. Where are you parked?”

  “In the lot. Just let me say goodbye to Kristine.”

  Reese found the alpha surrounded by her packmates. Rather than interrupt her, she offered a distant wave. Kristine returned it and shook her phone. Reese took this to mean, I’ll call you.

  As they walked down the path to her car she asked, “Are you okay out here?”

  She gestured to the fading sun. They still had a couple of hours before dark.

  “I’m tired,” he admitted. “And nauseous and I have a headache.”

  Reese smiled before she meant to. It was sweet hearing such an open, honest response. “Sounds rough.”

  He shrugged. “This is important. We need to get on top of these killings.”

  She unlocked the truck and reached across the seat to do the same for the passenger door.

  Liam collapsed his umbrella and slid inside as Reese took down the visor and slid it behind the seat. He tucked the umbrella between his legs and pulled the heavy door shut with a clank.

  “Take Canyon Road as if you’re heading for the interstate,” he instructed.

  Reese turned over the engine and reversed the truck. She waved at several pack members shuffling to their cars and waited for the young couple—the girl and boy who’d been on the beach the night of the first attack—to cross to their car.

  The traffic had picked up in the ninety minutes between leaving her house and the pack meeting. The night creatures hadn’t awakened yet, but the humans were now off work and searching for their dinners.

  Liam said nothing on their drive through town. She didn’t press him for conversation. Instead she rolled down her window to let in the warm ocean breeze. She hoped the fresh air would quell his stomach.

  When he visibly relaxed, she took that as a good sign.

  At the stop sign across from The Crossroads, he lifted his right hand and pointed straight ahead. “Keep following this to Midnight Pass.”

  She did, casting longing looks out over the water. The waves had collected the orange-pink of sunset. As the road bent toward the setting sun, Liam grimaced.

  “Open your umbrella,” she suggested. And he did. It was too big to fully expand even in the spacious cabin of her old red truck, but it threw blessed shadows across his face. He sighed.

  “There should be a road up here on your left. Do you see it?”

  It was another twenty or thirty feet before the road sprang into view. It seemed to not be there one minute, then appeared the next. Reese wasn’t sure if that was magic, or simply a tricky shape of road that had hidden the drive well.

  Either way, she turned left onto the road per Liam’s instruction.

  She drove slowly, careful not to hit any potholes at full speed. But the road was remarkably smooth. And something stranger happened. The branches overtaking the road, at first scratching at the sides of her red pickup, suddenly pulled back.

  They bent away from the car as if held by an invisible force.

  “What the—”

  “Ethan,” Liam said, matter-of-factly. “He knows it’s us.”

  Reese didn’t want to ask how Ethan knew it was us, or how the demon had the power to bend back tree limbs thicker than her body.

  She had suspicions though. She’d heard the rumors that circulated through town.

  If they were a mated pair, they would share a telepathic bond. She knew that demons did that from time to time—took mates. Violet had made casual offhand remarks as if testing Reese’s thoughts about the idea. And her neighbor and friend Cole had soul-mated with his now-husband Dominic.

  She’d seen Ethan and Liam together often and knew they were together in some capacity.

  But Ethan was also a known playboy. In fact, many thought it was a badge of honor to have slept with Ethan Benedict and many people claimed to have done so. He owned a bar in Red Light too, the Labyrinth, and it wasn’t uncommon for humans or supernaturals to disappear for a few hours in his care.

  Like most demons, he probably fed on lust or sexual desire in some way. Violet seemed to think he actually ate their souls. The general population seemed to think this was a small price to pay for such an encounter with the hottest creature they’d ever beheld.

  How Liam felt about these dalliances, Reese could only guess.

  Either their relationship was open or Liam was the forgiving kind.

  The trees broke open and a two-story Spanish villa sprang into view. The dirt road turned to beautiful paving stones that circled in front of the house. In the center of the roundabout was a fountain bubbling softly with turquoise water.

  Reese parked her truck in front of the marble steps. Ethan was standing on the porch as if ready to receive them.

  “Welcome to my home,” he said as she stepped from the truck. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Reese.”

  He took her hand and brushed a kiss across the knuckles.

  Liam stood beneath his umbrella, frowning.

  “Get inside and rest, my love” Ethan said. “And eat something.”

  Liam entered the house, closing the umbrella as he went. That left Ethan and Reese on the steps of the great villa.

  She looked up into the demon’s face. He had dark features and a strong jaw. She’d thought his eyes were blue, but today they were nearly black.

  “Are you hungry?” she asked. The words were out of her mouth before she meant to speak.

  He grinned. “Are you offering?”

  “No,” she said, perhaps too quickly. “You just...look hungry.”

  He pouted his lower lip. “Too bad. And yes, I am, but I will rectify that soon. Would you come inside and keep me company? I want to discuss a proposal with you.”

  She followed him into the mansion, her boots clicking on the marble behind him.

  “Can I offer you something to eat? Drink?” He threw a mischievous grin over his shoulder. “I can accommodate any taste, I assure you.”

  Heat rose in Reese’s face against her will. “No, thank you.”

  Ethan looked mildly disappointed as he passed through the enormous foyer toward a door near the back. It proved to be a kitchen.

  Ethan pulled a bottle of red wine from the counter, uncorked it and poured himself a glass. He flicked his eyes up to meet hers. “You’re sure?”

  “Positive.”

  Reese wanted to keep 100% of her wits in the presence of Ethan Benedict. She didn’t think he would hurt her—intentionally. But he seemed the opportunistic sort. Dubious consent didn’t seem out of the question...

  He headed for an adjacent door with his glass of wine. “It is my understanding that your true form is a shark,” he said. “Is that correct?”

  Reese followed him into the other room. “I can change into a shark, yes.”

  He flashed a wry smile. “It is said that Vendetta herself created shifters. She so loved nature and its beauty, that she bestowed many animals the ability to take human form and move about the humans as if they were one of them. If we are to believe that, then it would mean that truly you are a shark who takes a human form.”

  Reese wasn’t going to argue with him.

  “What kind of shark?” he inquired.

  “A black-tip reef shark.”

  He looked over his shoulder and smiled. “Yes, your hair. I can see it. One might think it was dyed that way.”

  “Most people do.” She’d heard her hair described as blond pigtails dipped in ink. But it wasn’t ink or even dye, only her natural coloring. She wasn’t sure why this trait was exhibited in this way, but it was the same for her Aunt Constance as well. Her aunt’s hair wasn’t blond, rather a deep aubu
rn red, yet it still had the black tips.

  The room around them could’ve been a library or a study. It had a desk with a laptop and folders on it. The walls were replaced with floor-to-ceiling bookcases and given how high these ceilings were, Reese was certain she was looking at tens of thousands of titles. At least.

  In front of the large window, she saw the sea, reminding her of the window in her aunt’s own library at home. If Constance saw this room she would be in love. Likely with Ethan as much as the room itself.

  But Ethan was standing by the French doors leading out the back of the room. “Would you like to come out into the garden with me?”

  “I thought demons didn’t like sunlight?”

  He smiled. “Do you think I’m a demon?”

  That stopped her in her tracks.

  “That’s a good guess,” he said, grinning wickedly, sipping the wine from his crystal glass.

  He offered no further explanation before pulling open the French doors and motioning for her to follow.

  They stepped out into an assault of freesia. The high, heady fragrance of a thousand flowers assaulted her. She felt paralyzed by them, her mind unraveling like a pulled string.

  Ethan found a wooden bench nestled into a grove of roses. He settled down into it, pointing to the padded chair opposite. Reese took her seat, enjoying the last of the day’s heat on her skin as well as the peach garden rose hanging inches from her face.

  She’d bent forward to sniff it before considering if that was all right.

  But Ethan was smiling at her. “Could you tell me what happened last night?”

  “I did my closing shift at Alpha’s and then drove to the beach for a swim.”

  “Yes,” he said, in agreement, turning the glass in the light. It sparkled in his hand. “And then?”

  She recounted the night for Ethan with as much detail as she could recall.

  When she finished, he was regarding a blush rose by his face and nodding as if it had spoken to him.

  “Yes,” he said finally. “It’s clear that the sirens are unhappy. Unfortunately, this could be for any number of reasons.”

  He turned those dark eyes on hers. A shiver crawled its way up and down her spine. Had his eyes been that color earlier? She couldn’t be sure. Ethan had the sort of face—it was beautiful the way lightning snaking across the sky was beautiful. She could feel the electricity there, churning, inviting her in.