Page 11 of Ensnaring the Siren

What he’d dismissed as an ungainly, drunken gait was, in truth, an impressive feat in traversing unfamiliar terrain on seldom-used limbs, and what he’d considered dishevelment was a wildness that couldn’t, no, wouldn’t be tamed.

And the fact that she’d acquired clothing and earplugs without drawing unwanted attention to herself suggested resourcefulness, even if it was with the help of a landside ally.

It was a while before she inclined her head and said, “That’ll be more than I have now.” And with that, she turned and walked away, heading toward a quiet footpath that led to the sea.

The mermaid had accepted his offer.

And now he had to deliver.

God help him whatever the consequences might be if he didn’t.

Chapter

Five

“You can’t be serious.” Nireed’s older sister, Aersila, set aside the whalebone dagger she was sharpening to pin her with an eviscerating glare. They were in Aersila’s workshop, lined wall to wall with all manner of tools and weaponry, and one of many rooms their pod’s foreparents carved out when they’d tunneled into a great underwater sea cliff to build their city. When Aersila wasn’t out hunting, or visiting her son Ryn, this was where she spent her time. Creating. “Why would you talk to the strange Surface Dweller?”

Why indeed. Nireed flicked a jar on a nearby shelf, salvaged from a shipwreck, and the motion-sensitive plankton inside that Aersila used to illuminate her space twinkled all around them, alerted by the perceived “threat.”

Nireed had identified the Surface Dweller’s scent almost immediately. She didn’t need to speak to him, but she’d wanted to know what kind of man he was, if he was someone who might help those in need beyond the scope of his job, and the impulse to see if he’d recognize her out of context overtook all good sense. And he hadn’t recognized her. Not until she’d flashed her luminescent eyes and the kind of smile even Lorelei found disquieting.

It was wicked, cruel even, toying with him like that, but it had been a test, a self-assurance.

Masking the parts of herself that made her distinctly siren, she’d walked through a crowd of humans, mirroring the way they moved and talked. Claws sheathed, eyes dimmed, teeth and scales retracted, none were the wiser.

Look how well I blend in.

Each of the sea’s creatures adapted to their surroundings, evolving over time to optimize their species’ survival. And as the tuna’s white belly rendered it nearly invisible against the backdrop of the surface’s bright light, obscuring it from the predators lurking in the depths below, so too was Nireed, evolving her ability to hide in plain sight.

Blending in meant safety and not going back into that dreaded tank.

“I thought he’d be able to help us.”

“I don’t see why you’d think that.” Folding her arms, Aersila twitched her fins irritably.

“He’s a Coast…Warrior.” Now was not the time to explain how he’d corrected her. “His duty is to save people from danger.”

“Surface Dwellers, maybe. Not us.”

If Nireed could convince him they weren’t the mindless monsters he imagined, and appeal to his built-in sense of duty, they’d have another valuable Surface-Dweller ally on their side. Time and time again, working with humans, the right humans, at least, greatly benefited the pod.

This was an opportunity.

“He has resources our friends don’t. A sky boat for one. And if there’s any group of Surface Dwellers that can stop the fishermen hunting us, it’s the one he belongs to. That’s what Shorewalker said.”

“Shorewalker said.” Aersila hissed out an angry stream of bubbles. “She’s the reason you were in that tank to begin with, but at least she has ties to the ocean and our people. He doesn’t.”

Going with Lorelei to shore had been Nireed’s choice. Staying…not so much. But her friend rectified that situation and repaid the debt tenfold. So why was Aersila so upset? “I’m here. I’m fine.”

“This time. But what if he’d taken you instead? You don’t know where his allegiances lay.”

“I can take care of myself.”

“You were gone for over a year!” Aersila slapped her palm down so hard her workbench—solid stone—cracked down the center in a hairline fissure. “I thought I’d lost you.”

“You didn’t, and it paid off. We’re not sick anymore. And you’ve reunited with your son. That wouldn’t have been possible otherwise.”

“You’re so quick to take risks, diving in with little to no information and hoping for the best. This is no different. You’ve no reason to trust him. Those fishermen were his own kind, and he was there to save them. He’s their ally. Not yours. Not ours.”

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