Blood Song

insulted me, abomination. What body part do you wish to lose to make reparations?”

Oh, fuck a duck. This was not how I imagined I was going to meet Granddad’s side of the family.

Most of the crowd started to move backward to get out of fal out range. Bruno stepped forward, being

the nice guy he is, but I reached an arm back to stop him. Interestingly, John Creede also stepped

forward, as did Emma and Alex. But I shook my head.

Two could play this game. “No … I didn’t insult you. You stormed into a solemn occasion and decided

to show off your body and voice for no good reason. I think that’s rude in pretty much any culture. How

do you plan to make reparations to me?”

She seemed taken aback at that, as though nobody had ever real y stood up to her before. I was

wil ing to be the first. “We have an impasse. Very wel . Then we agree to battle to satisfy our

grievances. At the stroke of ten, after you have appeared at your hearing before the Pacific lords on

the Isle of Serenity to defend your right to exist, and if you survive, then we wil fight to settle this.”

Whoa, whoa! “Back up, Your Royal Siren-ness. What the hel are you talking about? What hearing,

and who are the ‘Pacific lords’? And where is the Isle of Serenity?”

She smiled, and while it was beautiful, it was also mocking. “Had you greeted me as a siren princess

is entitled, I would feel inclined to answer your questions. As it is—” She shrugged. “I can be every bit

as stubborn as you appear to be. When you complete your court-ordered stay in the treatment facility,

you wil be collected to appear for the hearing.”

She turned on her heel and started to walk back through the crowd, slinking and twitching those

perfectly formed hips. As hard as I tried to fol ow so I could kick that perfect ass into next Tuesday, I

couldn’t. My feet flat wouldn’t move. Bruno either couldn’t move, either, or chose not to, since he was

squeezing my arm in a signal not to fol ow her. Maybe he was stopping me.

Or maybe she was.

Not good.

Just before she walked out the double doors, which two officers in tan were holding for her with the

rapt expression of starving puppies, she turned and raised one brow. “If I were you, I’d use my time in

the treatment facility to study siren culture and heritage. Perhaps once you understand why you have

to die, you’l do the honorable thing and commit suicide. Otherwise, we’l simply kil you.” She smiled

pleasantly to the rest of the crowd—most of whom smiled back. “Please, the rest of you enjoy the

remainder of the party. You might include the hostess in your remembrances. This may be the last time

you’l see her alive.”

Another smile that was a chil y baring of teeth was directed to me. “The next time we meet, dear

cousin, wil be the last.”

Dear cousin?

Well … shit. Didn’t my life just suck moss-covered swamp rocks?