I swallowed hard and raised my head, willing myself not to blush as I looked past the two men that stood silently in front of us. “We’re looking for my brother,” I said loudly. “Henry Foxx.”
All the gathered women that had been lounging at the edge of the ocean jerked their heads toward us when I said my brother’s name. One of them hissed in our direction while another of them separated from the group, and as she stood, her fins sort of smoked. Her long, silvery-platinum hair seemed to dry almost instantly and form beautiful natural waves that most women, including myself, would envy. By the time she was fully out of the water, she had legs. Long, perfectly smooth legs that if given some heels would have men falling to the ground and weeping.
As my gaze took her in I was thankful that her long hair covered her boobs since she wasn’t wearing a shirt, just like the two men who were still blocking our path. At least she had on a loin cloth of a sort though. As she got closer, her eyes glittered like sapphires in the light, but there was something cold and harsh in them, something that made me want to run in the opposite direction, but I couldn't. Not when I was so close to getting Henry back. Several more of the sirens followed her, all similarly dressed with the loin cloth motif being the main, or rather, only, item of clothing they wore.
“These are our sacred grounds,” she said in a deep, formal voice. “You must leave at once.”
"I want my brother back. Where's Henry?" I demanded.
She let out a little screech at his name but her voice was drowned out by the sound of an approaching boat. We all turned toward the coast to see a small speed boat coming closer to shore. Behind it, the moon was peeking over the horizon, washing everything in a pale light, including the rapidly approaching boat. Even though it was still bobbing over the waves as it came closer and closer to the shoreline, I could see that there was a man tied up in the center area. He had some sort of bag over his head. My heart raced with anxiety.
It was Henry. It had to be.
For an overwhelming second, I just wanted to start running. I didn’t care about supernaturals, magic, or sirens; I just wanted to hold my brother and know that he was okay.
Unless someone else had pissed the sirens off enough to warrant being tied up and blindfolded.
Somehow I doubted it.
More sirens came out of the water and their mouths began to move, but no sound came out. I knew, without being able to hear it, that they were singing. A strange urge came over me to remove the earplugs and just get a taste of their enchanting voices, but I pushed the feeling aside, recalling all the tales about sirens sending people to their deaths. This was one supernatural experience I was glad not to experience.
The sirens turned, coming toward us. For a second it felt like I was in some kind of weird musical or flash mob. They all moved with an unnerving synchronicity. Add in their mouths moving as if singing, and all we needed was a stage to really get things going.
Deva backed up rapidly since she didn’t have her earplugs in. We gave each other panicked looks and retreated with Deva so the sirens wouldn’t know their song didn’t affect us. As they drew closer, I could hear their song, as if they were singing from a great distance. It was beautiful, but it just didn't make me feel compelled to do anything. It was sad and mournful, as though they'd lost something great, something that was of immeasurable importance to them.
As we rose back up the path, gaining some elevation, and the boat came to the shore below, I was able to see down into the boat more clearly. And I recognized the shirt. I'd purchased it for him for his birthday a few years ago. It was bright red and had a picture of a game controller on it and then in bright white letters it read Keep Calm and Blame it on the Lag. That was definitely Henry. I'd bought it off some obscure internet store that catered to gamers, so it wasn't like every guy out there had one.
I tugged on my ear, the signal we’d decided to use if we wanted to attack. Beth slapped Deva lightly on her cheek. She shook her head and pulled her earplugs out of her pocket, stuffing them in her ears as fast as she could. The rest of us pulled our hair back, revealing our ear plugs.
“Give my brother back or face the consequences,” I said in my biggest, baddest voice, leveling my take-no-bull stare on the female siren that had approached us. Was she a queen? A mayor? I had no idea, but clearly she was the one in command.
“Your brother killed a siren,” the siren queen said. “We are owed a blood debt.”
My stomach bottomed out and I wanted to throw up. Henry had killed someone? He had killed a siren?
No.
That wasn't possible, was it?
There wasn't a violent bone in his body. When the vampire had spoken about a blood debt, I’d assumed my brother accidentally hurt a siren. Not killed one. It didn’t seem possible. Although, I hadn't known about his gambling either, so maybe I just had a blind spot when it came to my brother.
I didn't want to believe it
