Siren Song

been afraid that the cuts would screw up the ivy tattoo I had climbing up one leg, but it had come through it just fine. I’d spent a fortune getting it done, in honor of my baby sister. Thinking of my sister usually brought me a sense of her spirit presence. Not today. I didn’t know if she couldn’t follow me onto the boat or just hadn’t, but neither she nor Vicki was here. Of course, they weren’t always near. They came and went as they wished. Ivy usually came if I called her—but not always. Unlike my sister, I’ve never had actual power over the dead. Thank God. Just thinking about the horrors Ivy’s uncontrolled talent had visited on our family in my childhood gave me chills. She’d been so young and so powerful it had been really hard on all of us.

I shook my head to clear it. I needed to eat and get topside. It was only a couple of steps from the door of the stateroom into the kitchen and dining area. The tiny, galley-style kitchen was well organized and spotlessly clean. The microwave and dorm-size refrigerator were built-in, and everything else was designed to keep things from moving around in rough weather.

Opening the fridge, I grabbed one of the three cans of diet shake that had made it through last night’s adventure, flipped the top, and drained it as fast as I could. I’d been getting increasingly tired of them. The Creamy Chocolate Mocha didn’t taste too bad, but I seriously regretted the loss of the toothpaste and toothbrush I’d had in the bag that got shot. And I definitely needed a hairbrush and . . . aw, crap, sunscreen. I’d completely forgotten to buy any.

“Bubba, do you have any sunscreen?” I shouted. I really hoped he did.

“I think Mona’s got some stashed in a cabinet in the bedroom. Help yourself. But hurry up. You gotta see this.”

He sounded both awed and amused. Curious, I hurried past Dahlmar and Ivan as they came down the stairs from the deck. Based on their expressions and the tones of their voices, they seemed to be arguing, but they were doing it in a language I don’t understand, so I didn’t worry too much about it. Either I’d find out about it later or I wouldn’t.

I grabbed the sunscreen and stepped out onto the deck while slathering it on, momentarily blinded by mid- morning sunshine. I could still hear and I heard boats: lots of them; and the raucous call of gulls. Lots and lots of gulls.

Holding up a hand to shield my watering eyes, I looked to the west. A group of perhaps a dozen boats of various sizes and styles was coming up fast, moving in perfect arrowhead formation. Above them, the sky was dark with seabirds, also in formation.

Wow.

“See what I mean?” Bubba lowered his camera to grin at me. “Told ya I knew where the island was. Pretty cool, huh?”

It was cool, assuming they didn’t mean any trouble. Twelve to one would be rotten odds if things went south.

Creede grinned at me. He looked a little rough around the edges. There was stubble on his cheeks, but the look suited him, gave him kind of a rakish charm. Today he smelled of salt air, fish, and charcoal in addition to the cologne. Very outdoorsy and nice. “Your relatives know how to make an impression.”

Eleven of the boats stopped about five hundred yards away. The lead boat continued moving closer. I could see a bearded man in jeans and a T-shirt standing at the prow, a loudspeaker in his grasp.

“Ahoy, captain of Mona’s Rival. Is Celia Kalino Graves on board? ”

Bubba set down the camera and headed behind the wheel. A moment later his voice boomed across the water, only slightly distorted by the megaphone in his hand, “She is.”

“Stand by for her escort,” was the prompt answer.

“Your escort?” Creede turned to me.

I shrugged. “How the hell would I know? I didn’t even know they were expecting me. I thought I was going to surprise them.”

We didn’t have much time to wonder about it. The words were barely out of my mouth when Ren stepped out of thin air and onto the deck of Mona’s Rival, accompanied by a stunning woman of about twenty or so with Hawaiian features and a dark braid twined with flowers. They each wore the colorful lavalava common in Polynesian cultures and they looked damned good doing it. Ren’s hands were empty, but her companion carried a paper-wrapped package.

“What the—” Creede doesn’t like being surprised, and admittedly he should have felt magic being crafted nearby. He stepped back, reaching his hands out in the same stance he’d had during the Will reading. He froze in mid-motion at a signal from me. I didn’t think they meant trouble and I’d learned from experience that sirens are a touchy lot.

“Celia.” Ren dipped her head, more an acknowledgment of my existence than any show of respect.

“Ren.” I gave her the same in return.

Even her hand wave was as graceful as flowing water. I hated her. Well, okay, not hated—not the way Cassandra thought of me, more in the California sense. She was just so much better at the elegant stuff than me. “This is Hiwahiwa. She is Queen Lopaka’s foremost aide. Hiwahiwa, this is Princess Celia Kalino.”

Creede’s eyebrows just about climbed off his face at the title, but he kept silent. Probably just as well. The sirens were pretty much ignoring everybody but me.

Hiwahiwa bowed, her braid swinging forward to brush the ground. “It is an honor, Highness.”

“The pleasure’s mine,” I answered. Only then did she straighten up.

“Her Majesty assumed that since you were coming on such short notice you wouldn’t have time to pack.” How the hell had they even known I was coming? Sigh. I did not need to be messing with sirens who were also clairvoyant. “She asked that I bring you something appropriate to wear.”

They were dressing me for a meeting I hadn’t even known I was having. Great. Just great. I smiled and took the package she held out. Turning, I made introductions, then excused myself to go change.

I went down to the stateroom, carrying my package. The Rusland contingent was in the mess/kitchen area. They’d quit arguing in favor of glowering silently at each other. I should probably find out what was going on, but I figured it could wait until I got changed.

The queen had sent me a lavalava. I’d never worn one before, so it took me a few minutes to get the knack of tying the skirt. Both the sleeveless top and the ankle-length skirt were a vibrant red that I expected to look hideous on me but just didn’t. The fabric wasn’t cotton. In fact, I couldn’t identify what it was. But it was natural and it breathed beautifully. Much better than the jacket I slipped on over my new outfit. If anyone complained about the jacket, I’d explain about the sun sensitivity. If they complained about the weapons, I’d remind them about my upcoming duel. But I was wearing it and I was going armed. Both Ren and Hiwahiwa had been barefoot. I didn’t do barefoot much. I hoped there were no rocks. Because sneakers would be . . . gauche.

When I finished dressing I stepped once again into the tiny space that served as the ship’s head. I was delighted to find toothpaste and a couple of unopened toothbrush boxes in the cabinet above the minuscule sink, along with a hairbrush. I wished for makeup, but that was too much to ask. Still, in just a few minutes, I was dressed and presentable.

When I opened the door, Dahlmar was standing outside. His hands were clenched into fists, but his voice was calm. Almost serene, in fact, which made the fists all the more noticeable.

“Ivan has reminded me that my first duty as king is to remain alive. He also pointed out that I have no immunity to the siren glamour. Thus, we are staying hidden downstairs.”

Ah, so that was what the argument was about. Couldn’t say as I blamed Ivan. But it does take balls to stand up to a king like that. Then again, Ivan had brains and power and had somehow managed to get his king to safety in the middle of a coup. A sure sign that Ivan had great big polished brass ones.

King Dahlmar brought my attention back to the matter at hand. “It is traditional in this situation to present a gift to a monarch . . . something of significance to you personally or of great value. It would be a grave insult not to do so. Do you have such a gift? We had little time to plan this trip.”

No, I didn’t. I could probably come up with something. Maybe. “Do you have something that would work?”

His expression grew rueful. He made a gesture to include his Disneyland getup. “If I did, would I be dressed