by J G Barber
Leucosia’s eyes respond in terror as she morphs back to her human form. She blinks, trying to morph back to one of her half-animal forms. She cannot.
Laura steps forward just before Alexei storms in, crossbow ready. Leucosia runs for the window, jumping out as she dodges an arrow. Alexei reloads and fires again as Leucosia lands on the ground. The second arrow embeds in her right shoulder. She sprints into the forest before he can reload again.
“I wounded her!” Alexei exclaims. He helps Ellen into a chair. “Are you injured?”
Ellen needs a minute to collect herself. “I hurt all over. But I think I’m okay.”
A doctor and two nurses enter behind the two security guards. “All clear,” Alexei informs the guards. The doctor directs one nurse to attend to Laura and the other to Ellen.
“What is going on here?” the doctor asks, struggling to contain his panic. “This is the second time this has happened.”
“It won’t happen again,” Laura says. “We are leaving.” Laura sorts through the wreckage to collect their things. Alexei sets the safety on his crossbow and throws it over his shoulder.
Two Island County Sheriff’s cars light the front of the sirens’ mansion. The county coroner’s van pulls up. Two coroners withdraw a gurney and enter the house. Officers coming in and out pass the deputy sheriff as she interviews Paul on the front lawn. The deputy isn’t buying Paul’s story. “I know this sounds insane, officer, but that’s what happened.” The deputy writes into a notebook as Paul watches the proceedings. The coroners exit the house with a closed body bag on the gurney. Paul blinks away tears as they load Shannon into the van.
Alexei’s car arrives with Laura and Ellen. Laura runs to Paul. An officer intercepts her. She’s tempted to take him out with a Krav Maga blow, but decides not to. “She’s my wife,” Paul says.
“We’re taking your husband to the station for further questioning,” the deputy says to Laura. “You can follow us if you like.” The deputy motions to the officer that intercepted Laura. He cuffs Paul and leads him to the closest vehicle.
Leucosia enters the mansion the way Paul came in, soaked in blood, struggling to keep her balance, unfamiliar with the sensations of a bodily injury that did not regenerate rapidly. She enters the private gallery, picking up the gold statuette of the Serpent Goddess. Tears stream down her face as the eyes of the statuette emit an emerald green glow. “Lorelei, my love. Thank you, Great Mother.”
Brianne ascends the stairs of the playroom and emerges from the hallway. She navigates the rubble to join Leucosia in the art gallery. Brianne gasps at the sight of Leucosia’s blood. “Dear sister, let me attend to your wound.” She moves Leucosia into the sitting room. She sits her down and inspects the arrow and the entry and exit wounds. Leucosia grimaces from the pain of Brianne’s touch. “What happened?” Brianne inquires as she searches for a first aid kit.
“We underestimated Erik and these humans,” Leucosia states. “Summon sister Monica. We have very little time to complete the transfer. Then you can assist me to remove this arrow.”
An officer escorts Paul to the waiting room at the Langley Police Department, where Laura, Ellen and Alexei await his release. Laura rushes into Paul’s arms. They hold each other for a long time before looking deep into each other’s eyes. They’re both thinking the same thought. Where do I begin?
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Despite his decision to retire, Paul accepts the invitation to the press event, the public announcement that New Century Digital Distribution acquired Advanced Digital Media Solutions. Paul enters the ballroom at the Beverly Hilton. He surveys the room, spotting Art, the crew minus Monica, New Century management and Jerry. No snake collars.
Donald spots Paul. He gushes as he shakes Paul’s hand. “Congratulations. We got it done, thanks to you.”
Paul smiles. “It was all you, Donny. You’ll do a great job as president of ADMS.”
“What’s this I hear about you leaving?” Donald asks, disappointed.
Paul shrugs. “I’m a sailor at heart. Always have been, always will be.” Elmo and Dandridge join them. “Congratulations, Elmo!” Paul exclaims as he shakes their hands. “Stepping up to VP, I hear.”
“Yeah. I’m not cutting my hair though. And the body jewelry stays!” Elmo says.
“What about you, Dandridge?” Paul asks.
“No changes for me. I’m all for keeping the status quo,” Dandridge says with a frumpy frown.
Paul looks around the room again. “Where’s Monica?”
“We haven’t seen her since the celebration,” Elmo replies, concerned. “I’ve tried calling her. Stopped by her place. Nothing.” Elmo looks across the room to Jerry. “No one will say a word about what’s going on. Lorelei and Monica were close. I think she snapped when Lorelei killed herself. She probably took off with those crazy club hos from Whidbey Island to go party on the beach in Mexico.”
Donald corrals them to join a circle of people forming around Art. Paul stays back as everyone gathers around for the interview with Art and the newly appointed New Century management. Paul watches from a distance as Art enjoys his fifteen minutes of celebrity. He’s glad to be out of it all.
Jerry spots him standing alone. He breaks away from the circle to joins Paul. “Thank you for everything you did to make things right, Jerry. It means a lot to Laura and me. And our son.”
“Please accept my apology.” Jerry’s eyes convey his ongoing struggle to come to terms with his own weakness. “Lorelei outfoxed me. There’s no excuse for it.”
Paul nods. “Yeah, she was good at that, wasn’t she?”
“I’m glad I could get your stock grants added back into the deal. There was nothing I could do about your options or your bonus,” Jerry says, hoping his deed will absolve him of the guilt he feels.
“It’s enough,” Paul assures him. “We made a lot of money on the sale of our house. Laura and I are grateful.”
Jerry steps in closer to Paul. “Yeah. About that. You made the difference, Paul. Are you sure I can’t convince you to stay on board? I can make up for your losses in other ways.”
Paul stands tall, strapped to the mast. “It’s time to go. The sea is calling me.”
Jerry overrides his disappointment with a handshake. “Look me up the next time you’re in L.A. We’ll have dinner and I’ll try to convince you to change your mind.”
“Sounds good.” Paul grasps his hand. “Hey, have you seen Monica?”
“No. She resigned by text the day Lorelei died. No explanation.” Jerry shoots Paul one of those disturbed looks as he walks away and penetrates the circle of people around Art.
Paul considers joining them to congratulate Art. But he has nothing to say to the man. Instead, he turns and walks out of the ballroom. He’s ready to leave this all behind and start his new life.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Alexei, Paul, and two workers deliver Dutch’s casket to the gravesite. A backhoe crane lowers the casket into the ground. The priest approaches as the workers follow the backhoe away.
Laura watches from a distance, unable to hear the priest’s message. She observes a new coldness in her feelings, an unfamiliar remorselessness. When this odyssey began, she wanted more than anything for Paul to release his burden of grief. Today, she waits to get back to the hunt, her only desire to mete out vengeance to the sirens who threatened the lives of her son, her husband and her sister, and caused the deaths of Paul’s parents and Dutch.
The priest nods to Paul and Alexei, closes his bible, and leaves them alone. They remain as the backhoe returns to fill the hole. They each drop a handful of dirt and walk away.
“Dutch offered to sell you his boat,” Alexei says without his emotion.
Paul’s surprised by the conversation topic. “Yes. And I told him I wanted to buy it.”
Alexei stops walking, and waits for Paul to do the same. “Dutch left the boat to me in his will. I am in need capital to continue my odyssey. I will sell it to you
.” Paul shakes his hand in agreement. They share an unspoken emotional moment. “I need time alone with my old friend, Paul.”
As Paul joins Laura, another wave of emotion overtakes him. He collapses to his knees, wraps his arms around her belly, and sobs, this time in gratitude. The tears help wash away the residue of years of unprocessed grief. She strokes his hair, her heart compassionate, her eyes steeled in warrior fierceness.
Envelope in hand, Paul enters the marina and heads for his Open 50 sailboat. He jumps on board and explores it from bow to stern, like a kid who just got the toy he’s always wanted. Alexei emerges from the cabin with the last of Dutch’s belongings. “Here’s the cash portion of the payment.” Paul hands Alexei the envelope. “I wired the rest to your account in the Caymans this morning.”
“What will you name here?” Alexei asks.
“The Oddyssey,” Paul replies. “With two d’s.”
“I wish you strong winds and sturdy sails on the next leg of your odyssey, brother,” Alexei says in a proclamation filled with unspoken meaning.
Paul’s too distracted to catch what his words imply, that his odyssey has not ended. “And to you, Alexei. What will you do now?”
Alexei smiles. “I will take up flying. I already earned my pilot’s license. Now I will purchase a small airplane.”
“Where will you go?” Paul asks.
“Wherever the wind takes me, same as you.” Alexei rests a hand on Paul’s shoulder.
“I hope so. Thank you again, Alexei. I don’t think Laura or I would be alive now if it wasn’t for you.” Paul hugs him to express his gratitude.
“Our paths will cross again, brother.” Alexei salutes Paul as he returns to shore. Paul explores the boat again, from stern to bow, becoming intimate with his new home. He cannot contain his glee.
A memory of Lorelei’s boat interrupts the moment. He jumps onto the dock and runs to the Isara 65 trimaran. The slip is empty. He heads to the marina office. The desk clerk recognizes him. “Hello, Paul. Alexei took care of all the paperwork. You have until the end of the month to vacate the slip. Where are you sailing?”
Paul smiles. “Mexico. Mazatlan to start.”
The clerk’s entranced smile shakes Paul to his core. “Home to the Mexican sirens. La Tlanchana, la sirena de Metepec.”
A ball of panic grows in Paul’s gut. “Slip B52. Is it available?”
“Yes, it is.” The clerk frowns. “I heard what happened to Ms. Andressen. Very sad.”
Paul’s mind flashes back to the celebration of desire. The clerk was there. “What happened to her boat?”
The clerk shrugs his shoulders. “I don’t know. A lovely young woman came to settle her account a few weeks ago. Paid in cash.”
“Who?” Paul demands.
“Monica. I met her at the party.” His voice turns dreamy. “Oh my god, what a body. And she has the most amazing green eyes. A guy could lose yourself in those eyes, you know.” The clerk drifts off, entranced.
Paul bolts without another word. He runs to the Hummer and dials his phone as he drives away. “Laura, I’m on my way home. We’re going for a ride.” He spots Alexei in the parking lot, organizing Dutch’s belongings in his jeep. He swings by to pick him up.
Later that day, the Hummer disembarks from the Clinton ferry and drives to Possession. First stop, the Cultus Bay mansion. Paul points out the “For Sale” sign posted at the driveway entrance. He parks at the front door. It’s unlocked. Inside, they find no evidence of the celebration of desire or the sirens. It looks like the place sat unused in years.
They head to the Lorelei’s mansion. A realtor posted another “For Sale” sign in the front lawn. They walk around back and enter through the patio door. The entire place is empty and clean. The sirens removed all evidence they ever lived there.
Paul leads them down the path towards the water. They pause at the edge of the cliff and look down. Paul pulls out his monocular and hands Laura the old spyglass. They find no signs of the Isara 65 trimaran.
Paul breathes a sigh of relief. “Thank god it’s over. Now we can move on and enjoy the rest of our lives.” He jogs back toward the mansion like a man who believes he is free.
Laura and Alexei exchange a look. They trail behind, waiting until Paul is out of ear range before they discuss Erik’s new plan.
Epilogue
COASTAL BAJA MEXICO, A FEW MONTHS LATER
Paul steers the Open 50 to ride the strong wind blowing south. A smile spreads across his wild-bearded face as the wind tosses his long hair, his entire countenance awash in deep contentment. He’s a man living his dream, at home in his element. A small plane executes a low fly by, then proceeds down the coast before circling back toward them.
Laura watches the plane with warrior intent. “What’s that all about?” Paul shouts to her.
Laura’s body shows she’s entering the third trimester of her pregnancy. “I’m hungry,” she shouts in reply, pointing to a beachfront town with a small marina. Paul adjusts the sails and steers the boat toward the beach.
On arrival, he secures the Open 50 to the dock. He admires the pristine beach as the small plane descends for a landing on the nearby airstrip. Paul takes Laura’s hand and they traverse the dock to a beachfront café.
A waiter approaches as they sit down. “Dos, por favor,” Paul says.
Laura corrects him. “Perdóname señor, tres por favor.”
Paul smiles, assuming she’s referring to their unborn son. “Una cerveza, por favor, y dos platos, tacos con pescado.” Paul helps Laura settle into her seat. He kisses her and rubs her belly. “How’s our son today?”
Despite her overall serious mood since they left Seattle, she can’t help but smile today. “He likes the beach.”
“Of course he does.” The waiter delivers a bottle. They sit in silence for a few minutes as Paul enjoys the beer and they both enjoy the view.
Laura massages her belly. “What are we going to name him?”
Paul’s already thought this through. He lifts his sunglasses. “Jason. 23rd generation of the Douglass clan.”
Laura lifts her sunglasses. “You wish for our son to quest for the Golden Fleece to claim his throne?” She’s distracted by a man walking from the airstrip to the café. “We need to head out soon.” Laura checks her belongings to confirm she’s ready for a quick exit.
“What’s the hurry?” Paul’s contentment unravels. “Why are you so determined to head south?”
“Stop worrying.” The food arrives. Laura digs in. “Our son is strong and healthy. If we get into trouble, we have backup.”
“Backup?” Paul’s jaw drops as Alexei joins them. He looks into Laura’s eyes and sees the Rhine river storm of 1539 overshadow them as she connects with Alexei. Paul knocks over his beer, shattering the glass bottle on the pavement.
Alexei brings Laura up to speed. “I’ve located them. They are not taking full advantage of the wind. If we leave now, we can catch up.”
“Let’s go.” Laura wolfs down her remaining food.
Alexei’s words echo in Paul’s mind. “A father can spare his son the fate encoded in his genes.” He stares at Laura’s belly as realizes the siren hunter curse has passed from father to unborn son. Paul decided it was all over when Lorelei died. He never considered that Laura would sign up to continue the siren hunters’ mission, and she never told him.
A counts out a stack of pesos as Laura heads for the dock. Alexei grabs Paul’s uneaten fish taco and scarfs it down as Paul’s emotions spin out of control. He looks to Alexei for an explanation.
“In Seattle, we won the battle, not the war,” Alexei says. “We hold humanity’s fate in our hands. We must follow Erik’s plan.” He bolts, heading toward the airstrip.
Paul runs to catch up with Laura before she attempts to board the Open 50 alone. He helps her onto the boat and unties from the dock. As they clear the chop of the waves, he raises the sails. The wind propels the boat into open water. Paul tracks Alexei’s plane as
it takes off, following the course it sets.
The storm of emotion in Paul’s gut subside as he digests his new reality and reason for existence. “There is no escaping it,” he says to himself. “We are siren hunters.”
Laura climbs onto the bow extension, securing herself with her arms around the railings. She retrieves Erik’s spyglass from its holster between her breasts. With a flick of her wrist, she opens the spyglass. She scans the water ahead until she finds a lone boat with two bikini-clad women on deck.
It’s Leucosia and Brianne. They sail the Isara 65 trimaran, now named Labrys, the name book ended with labrys symbols. Brianne massages Leucosia’s shoulders, working around the scar from the arrow. Leucosia lets out a pained moan. “It is a tragedy that you have lost your regenerative powers,” Brianne says.
“Yes. Trapped in this human form by the Atlantean curse. A shadow of my true self,” Leucosia laments. Brianne massages her neck. “My only consolation is your companionship. And these human bodies are very sensuous.” Brianne kisses her. Leucosia strokes her face to express her appreciation for Brianne’s tenderness. Brianne straddles her and they immerse themselves in each other’s lips.
Leucosia stands and takes Brianne by the hands. “Our resurrection awaits us, sister. My heart longs to witness your transformation.”
“My heart longs to realize my true Sirenian potential. I stand by your side as we resurrect the Sirenian race,” Brianne pledges. She’s made the pledge before, but each time she repeats it, she’s filled with delicious feelings of power and pride.
Below deck, Monica’s swollen bikini-wrapped breasts and belly bulging above her bikini bottoms show her accelerated pregnancy, a result of her Sirenian genes and Lorelei’s Sirenian spirit. She takes a moment to inspect the stores of wealth they brought from the Whidbey mansion. Only the most sentimental and portable objects are on board. They stored the rest of the collection in a shipping container for delivery to their new island home.
