Night Tide

by Kory M. Shrum

Salt stung his eyes, but it was bearable. The deeper the water got, the cooler it felt beneath him. He tried not to think about that. He tried not to think about sharks hunting the inlet for their nighttime meals. He tried not to think about what might be circling below.

  He kept swimming.

  A splash on his right made his heart lurch. But it was only Abby. She had caught up to him and was gaining.

  He swam after her and tried to remember why they were doing this. It was a silly superstition. Or it would be, if this was any other town in the world. And the story was given credibility because it had been his mother—the head folklorist at CCU, who’d told him the story of Heart’s Rock.

  Castle Cove is a unique town with its own history, she’s said. And all myths stem from fact.

  Two myths centered on the large bolder jutting from the dark sea ahead.

  First, there was a belief that Castle Cove only invited certain citizens. One had to be chosen in order to even find the town on the map, to even see the exit from the highway. Both his mother and father had been offered jobs here, though they hadn’t applied for them. The head-hunting scout had worked hard to sell the town to them. And once they’d arrived, they quickly realized why this town was...unique.

  The second myth that made swimming 1600 feet beneath a full moon remotely tempting, was the idea that in order for children to remain in the town, in order to remain chosen, they needed the cove’s blessing—and that was only achieved by touching Heart’s Rock, the metaphorical and perhaps literal, heart of Castle Cove.

  And while Grayson wasn’t sure he wanted to stay in this town, he also wasn’t sure he wanted to chance being cast out of it either.

  His knee scraped something rough the same time he slapped the granite surface of the rock. He pulled, hefting himself out of the water.

  His arms burned. His chest ached. The swim felt harder than it should have been. The waves were doubling in size now. Or perhaps the tide had turned against them. He looked up at the sky and saw thick gray clouds rolling in. It masked the moon like a shroud.

  Abigail hauled herself out of the water a minute later, coughing. He offered an arm and she took it. Her skin was cold to the touch.

  “Whew,” she said, laughing. “Refreshing.”

  “Where the hell did that storm come from?” he asked, wiping water from his face. He looked out toward the horizon and saw the spiderweb of lightning spread across the sky.

  “Right? Those waves are crazy.”

  He checked his arm and found the blade snug in its sheath. Maybe he would look stupid for bringing it after all.

  “Gray—” Abby said. “I need to talk to you, okay?”

  His heart crept up his throat. “About what?”

  “Something important. Not tonight, but we need to talk.”

  “Okay.”

  “Without Landon,” she said. She searched his face. “So don’t say anything.”

  “Okay,” he said, feeling like a parrot.

  He looked out over the water, searching for Landon almost guiltily. He was struggling with the last ten feet.

  “Come on,” Grayson said, clapping as if to cheer him on. “You can do it, buddy.”

  When he got close enough, they heaved him out of the water.

  “Man,” he said, coughing. “Was it me or did it feel like swimming upstream there at the end?”

  Grayson pointed at the sky. “A storm is coming in.”

  “We’ll rest before swimming back,” Abby said, dragging a hand down her face to clear the water. “But not for too long. My nipples are going to freeze off.”

  “I can help with that,” Landon said. But his teeth were chattering.

  Abby snorted. “Worry about yourself, Jack Frost.”

  Grayson looked north over his shoulder at the cliff face. There sat the castle ruins for which the town was named. It was a dilapidated structure cutting the sky. Something flew above the highest remaining spire.

  Bats, he thought, but whatever it was looked too large to be a bat, even if it was flying like one. Perhaps a nightjar then.

  A deep ache formed in his chest.

  He would miss Castle Cove. As strange as this place might be and perhaps as unsafe for a human like him, it still felt like home.

  A cold hand brushed his arm and he looked down, half expecting to see a siren pulling itself out of the water onto the rock that marked neutral territory.

  But it was Abigail. She squeezed harder and gave him a smile. “Happy birthday, Gracie.”

  Instinctively, his eyes darted toward Landon, but the other boy was trying to blow something out of his nose.

  “God, I hate salt water,” Landon grumbled, hacking into the sea.

  “We have a lake,” Abigail said. Her voice was perfectly calm as if she wasn’t holding Grayson’s hand at all.

  Landon laughed. “With water demons in it. No, thanks. I’ll stick to the city pool.”

  “The pool’s haunted,” Grayson said. He marveled at how calm his voice was—as if his heart wasn’t knocking wildly in his throat.

  “I’ll take my chances.”

  His hand was warming in hers. He was about to withdraw when she let go and stood.

  “Okay boys, let’s go get some slices at CC Pizza after this. Last one back pays.”

  She dove into the water. Her pale skin flashed iridescent before disappearing beneath a black wave.

  Landon stood, looking into the water. “Man, I’m in love with her.”

  “I know.” Grayson felt like he’d been kicked in the gut.

  The grin on Landon’s face was sweet and so goofy that Grayson could only laugh. “Go get her then, man.”

  Landon’s grin widened as he jumped off the rock. “Cannonball!”

  Before Landon surfaced, a shimmer caught Grayson’s eye.

  A shark fin stuck three or four inches out of the water. It cut beneath the wave. It had a distinguished black tip, so it was only a reef shark. Luckily, the underwater rock barrier kept all big predators out of the cove. But it was still a shark and a bite was a bite.

  The fin had been moving north across the cove and if it kept to its course, it would directly cut across Abby and Landon’s paths.

  But that didn’t mean they were in danger. Shark attacks happened so rarely. In Castle Cove, they’d never had someone even bitten by sharks, let alone killed by one. It was vampires, werewolves and other land creatures one had to look out for.

  And he had the blade.

  He stood, stretched his arms overhead and readied to take the plunge.

  That’s when he saw the real danger.

  Three shimmering forms darted around Heart’s Rock. They glimmered and twirled beneath the water. The three bioluminescent forms swam in tight formation toward Abby and Landon. Then they split. Two followed Landon, one rushed toward Abby who was more than halfway to shore.

  She might make it before it reached her. Or not.

  Landon definitely wouldn’t make it.

  Sirens. Inside the territory line. Inside the cove. That wasn’t supposed to happen.

  And what was Grayson supposed to do? Stay on the rock and wait for a better moment to swim to shore? Or jump into the water and try to reach Landon before the sirens did?

  Grayson spotted Landon swimming toward shore. His strokes were wild and uneven. No wonder he wasn’t even halfway there. It wasn’t until this moment, when Grayson was terrified for his life, that he realized how terrible of a swimmer Landon was. It didn’t matter. He had to reach him as quickly as possible.

  Grayson fixed the path in his mind and dove. The objective was to reach Landon on the heels of the sirens. Perhaps they were only curious. Hopefully they would swim around or tug playfully on their legs.

  Of course, Grayson knew better.

  Sirens had one objective when it came to humans. They wanted to mate.

  As Grayson swam furiously toward his friend, he tried to remember everything his mother had taught him about sirens.

  “The mal
es are more aggressive than the females. They are more likely to accidentally drown their human mates than the females, though they are also incredibly strong. You have to understand that the males are only looking for sexual gratification. The females, however, are hoping to procreate, so they must be more careful with their prey.”

  “Why in the world would they want to mate with humans?” Grayson had asked.

  “Male sirens are sterile. Therefore, a healthy population of the sirens is entirely dependent upon females successfully mating with humans.”

  “But how do you fuck a fish?” his little brother Tanner had asked.

  His father had slapped him gently on the back of the head. “Don’t be crude.”

  “I’m just asking. I thought they had fish tails!”

  “They are like shapeshifters,” their mother explained. Her face had soured. She hated it when Tanner cursed. “They can take humanoid form long enough to mate.”

  “Humanoid,” Grayson had repeated. Because they didn’t really look human. Not without their glamour.

  Cold seawater hit the back of Grayson’s throat and he choked, coughing. But he’d almost reached Landon.

  “Landon,” he cried. “Landon!”

  Landon stopped swimming, turning toward the sound of his voice. “What—oh shit.”

  Two streaks of bioluminescence cut beneath them leaving shimmering blue bubbles in their wave.

  “Landon, listen to me.” Grayson wanted to make his instructions clear before the sirens started singing. “They’re probably females looking to mate.”

  “Oh man.” Landon couldn’t suppress his goofy grin. “I hear they turn into—”

  “Listen!” Grayson spat. “You need to get to shallow water. Don’t stay here or she will drown you. Do you understand?”

  Landon was watching one of the sirens rise from the depths to the surface.

  “Landon!”

  “Shallow water. Got it!” He began to paddle to shore half-heartedly.

  That’s when Grayson saw he had his own problem. A young woman surfaced six feet between him and the shore. He began to paddle toward her. It wouldn’t be smart to try to flee into deeper water, nor could he tread the waves all night.

  But she didn’t look ready to move aside either.

  He closed the distance—four feet, three, just two—

  He cut to the right, giving himself room. She moved into his path. It looked like Abigail. It wasn’t Abigail. He knew that.

  “I’ll do it,” he said, hoping she understood. “But not here. Okay? Not here.”

  If the sirens could get into his head well enough to find his perfect image of a mate, surely, it could understand these thoughts too.

  But she didn’t look like she was going to let him pass.

  She began to cut a circle around him, not unlike a shark.

  A shark. He’d forgotten all about it and it hardly mattered now. They wouldn’t come near the sirens or anything else that smelled of magic.

  He dared to look away long enough to check on Landon. He was closer to shore. That was good, though his siren was already practically on top of him.

  Grayson felt a hand on his penis and froze in the water.

  When he glanced away, the siren had seized the opportunity. She stroked him. Slow and gentle, trying to conjure an erection. So these sirens really did know how it worked.

  It was Abigail. It was Abigail touching him.

  “No,” he said. “No, not her.”

  The anger in his voice startled her. Her grip faltered. She moved back a little as if afraid of him. Of course, her advantages far outweighed his. But she was obviously confused about her failing glamour.

  He was in waist deep water now. The silty bottom met his toes and relief rushed through his body. Abigail’s red hair and deep blue eyes fell away. It was replaced with luscious blond locks, pouty lips and green eyes.

  He almost laughed, but he kept backing toward shore.

  “All right, Mrs. Miller,” he said. “You’ll do.”

  It was ridiculous. Mrs. Miller had been his ninth grade geometry teacher and he’d dreamt about her nearly every night that year.

  The siren, smiling again, wrapped her body around his. Her grip was so strong, it pulled him under the waves. But the hand was on his penis again, furiously working.

  When that didn’t seem to have the desired effect, her head dipped below the surface. Lips fastened onto his penis with a suction so intense a moan was pulled from his throat.

  He tried to elbow crawl toward the shore. He needed to be in the shallows or he was going to die getting blown by a fish girl with baby fever.

  By the time he got his head above water, his erection was fully formed. Her mouth released him the same moment that hands grabbed onto his hips, pulling him toward her.

  He realized she was trying to mount him.

  Not here. God, not here.

  Three or four feet of water was plenty to drown in, especially if his back was ground into the sandy ocean floor.

  This was his chance. He could scramble for shore and hope he made it onto the sand before she caught him, or he could pull his knife and cut her. Cutting her would buy him more time to clear the shallows, but it might escalate the situation. His mother had said sirens could be violent when afraid.

  Instead of pulling his knife, Grayson committed to getting to shore. There was no escaping really, and if he struggled, it would only cost him.

  So he wrapped his arms around Mrs. Miller, knowing Mrs. Miller smelled like Clinique and not ocean water.

  He stood up. Her legs wrapped around his torso, welcoming his embrace. She sighed into the hollow of his throat.

  He kept one hand on her back, as he waded through the shallows toward the shore. This was difficult to do with her relentless enthusiastic hand, but at least she wasn’t heavy.

  When she finally managed to slide his erection inside of her, his step faltered.

  He fell forward into the surf. A wave crashed over them, pummeling his back.

  But when he rolled, body aching, it was dry sand under his head. The pounding waves were only covering his legs and groin. At least he wouldn’t drown.

  For a moment, it was only the strange storm clouds above, sparking with heat lightning. Then she mounted him.

  Her body glistened with ocean water. Sand clinging to her breast and arms looked like crystals in the diffused moonlight.

  She stayed astride him, grinding her hips into his. The sand scraped his back and buttocks. There was a rock or shell of some kind pushing into his tailbone. But he knew the best option was to lie still and indulge in his ninth grade fantasy come to life.

  He turned his head, looking up the beach. He hoped he would spot Abby and Landon both safe on the shore. But the bonfire had died down and with only momentary bursts of lightning, shadows prevailed.

  It looked like there was something happening at the other end of the beach—bodies moving. But it was too far to see.

  Mrs. Miller picked up her pace. As she bent forward, and her cool breasts brushed his face, all thoughts were shoved out of his mind. Everything disappeared but the stormy night sky and Mrs. Miller’s dripping, hard nipples.

  He came and for a moment he was the one holding onto her hips, rocking against her.

  But before he even caught his breath, the weight lifted and she was gone.

  Two splashes and a bright flash of blue bioluminescence beneath a wave—and she was gone.

  It wasn’t his best sexual experience. It had been too quick, and the shells under his back had no doubt scraped his skin to hell. He also preferred his partners warm rather than as cold as a sea slug.

  He tried not to think of what she must’ve looked like in her true form. He’d heard sirens resembled the fish monster from the Black Lagoon. If that was true, then the telepathic glamour was a blessing—even if he would find it hard to look Mrs. Miller in the eye again. Ever.

  Grayson wanted to rinse himself in the ocean, but decided against
it. The ocean water would burn like hell with the cuts stinging his back. Plus, now that he knew the sirens had breached the Cove’s rock barrier, it was entirely possible that a second female could approach him and he—no. He couldn’t do it again.

  He’d have to put his clothes on as he was and worry about cleaning himself later.

  Screaming tore the night in two.

  Grayson’s heart rocketed into his chest and before he knew what he was doing, he was running down the beach as fast as his unsteady legs would carry him.

  It was Abigail. Abigail was screaming.

  He pulled the knife from his forearm sheath, afraid he would have to fight a siren after all.

  Abigail was still naked on the sand, her hands and knees sinking into the wet shoreline. Her face was contorted. Her mouth hung open, before another wave of sound tore through her.

  “Abby—Abby!” He bent to pull her away from the water. But he saw no siren. A flash of bioluminescence sparked a hundred feet away, swimming in the direction of the ruined castle and the cliff it rested on. If it was the male siren, he was swimming away from them.

  That wasn’t what she was looking at.

  Her eyes were fixed on a strange tangle of limbs tumbling in the ocean surf.

  “Landon.” Grayson’s voice cracked.

  It was Landon’s body tossing in the white waves. Wave after wave pummeled him into the sand.

  Grayson forgotten about his plan to stay out of the ocean and went into the water. He grabbed a slick limb and dragged Landon onto beach.

  He wanted to turn him over, do CPR, or pound on his chest until water spurted from his mouth the way it did in the movies.

  But Grayson knew his friend was dead the moment he touched his skin. There was something unnatural in its weight. The living had a lightness to their being. Landon’s lightness was gone.

  Yet Grayson turned him over on the shore anyway, aware that Abigail was still screaming though the sound had become a distant annoyance. It was a fly buzzing in the other room.

  Grayson was shoving the heel of his hand into Landon’s sternum. He was tilting back the chin so he could pinch the nose closed and blow into the mouth. But the lips were cold. The chest wasn’t moving. The heart wasn’t beating.

  Landon was dead.

  Reese