Page 100 of Ensnaring the Siren

“Okay.”

Cupping her ankle, Reid asked, “Is it all right if I take a look?”

She nodded.

Lifting one foot, then the other, he examined the undersides, each smeared with dirt and dried blood. There were no more open wounds. Some parts looked newly sealed and a little raw, but thankfully not inflamed. Sirens must’ve also had ironclad immune systems, killing common infections with a vengeance.

“Does it hurt?”

“Not really.”

“Think you can stand?” Knowing Nireed, she’d probably grin and bear it, even if she shouldn’t, so he added, “Or maybe you better not?”

“If I can’t stand, then I shouldn’t shift, but I can’t stay here either.” She lifted her chin, the set of her jaw brave and determined. “I should try.”

Taking her hands, he gently helped her to her feet. He watched her face carefully for signs of discomfort. Now that the adrenaline had worn off, the distance she covered with open wounds might be unbearable.

“Sore,” she admitted, wriggling her toes. “But manageable.”

“Good. That’s really good, Starfish.”

But she didn’t move toward the door. “I suppose we can’t bring them home, the ones we lost.”

He brushed back her hair and cupped her cheek. “I’m sorry, love. But the world needs to see what was done here so that Nautic never sails again. There can’t be any doubt.”

“I don’t like it, but I understand.” Nireed hugged herself. “A part of me is glad their deaths weren’t completely wasted, but it’s not the comfort I thought it would be.”

There was distance and safety in imagining what might’ve happened. Room for denial, the blunting of reality’s sharp edges, but seeing the truth in the flesh afforded no such luxuries.

She continued, “I wish we could lay them to rest in the deep where they belong.”

Remains were routinely returned to their families after cases closed. Why not for the merfolk too? “Can’t promise anything, but maybe when the investigation is over, we can make arrangements to have their bones returned.”

A glimmer of hope sparked in her teary eyes. “That would be best.”

It was only right the merfolk got to properly mourn and bury their dead. He’d raise hell if he had to. His fellow Surface Dwellers owed them that dignity and respect, at the very least.

After collecting the pile of evidence from The Seriphus’s captain, and putting Killian in charge of safeguarding it, Reid coaxed Nireed out of the pilothouse. He hated feeling like he was shooing her off, but he didn’t want her anywhere near this ship when the FBI arrived; and despite what The Seriphus crew had done, he did need to find a way to get the rest of them down and tend to their wounds. It was his job. He’d have to temper his rage and do it as clinically and indiscriminately as possible.

Navigating the stairs down to the main deck, Nireed’s tight grip on the railing made the metal groan and creak with every gray-faced, reluctant step she took. He slowed to thread a stabilizing arm around her waist. “You afraid of heights, love?”

She nodded, clutching his shoulders like a scared cat, claws pricking skin.

Wincing, he tapped her waist. “Ease up.”

She relaxed her hold, claws retracting. “Sorry.”

“Why didn’t you tell me before? On the hike?” He’d marched her straight up that mountain, sat them at the edge of an overlook, legs dangling over the side.

“That was different.” She toed the open metal grating, shuddering. “That felt solid. This is…exposing. Barely anything to hang onto.”

Open backed steps, a flimsy—by siren standards—railing, the stomach drop feeling of falling. He’d never considered how alarming that must feel to a creature used to living in suspension, and he could see why good, solid earth would feel safer by comparison. Boulders and trees made good handholds.

He paused, heart swelling with affection and awe, as he drank her in—tangled dark brown hair, wild amber eyes, the clench of her sharp teeth and steel of her resolve.

Another fear faced to protect the ones she loved and stop Nautic’s reign once and for all.

God, he loved this woman.

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