Page 28 of Ensnaring the Siren

“Are you sure about this?” he asked. “If they realize what you are…”

“I know, but I face that danger every day. I need to do this. Are you sure?”

“Not even a little bit.”

Her expression softened. “You don’t have to come in. I can do this on my own.”

The thought of leaving Nireed to face whatever lay ahead alone made him uneasy. He withdrew his hand. “No, where you go, I go.”

She pushed down hard on the handle, and a crunching sound followed as she broke its locking mechanism. With a good shove from her shoulder, the door opened. He was no slouch when it came to strength and endurance, but Nireed had him outmatched ten times over.

Peeking in, she murmured, “It’s clear,” and slipped inside.

Everything about this situation was a gamble. The risks far outweighed any chance of reward, but reminding himself that literal lives were on the line, Reid followed.

It was cool inside the warehouse, intended to keep the inventory fresh. Some of it would be distributed locally, but most would be trucked out to grocery stores and restaurants across New England.

Reid spotted a pair of discarded work gloves sitting on a nearby shelf and donned them. Leaving his fingerprints everywhere would be peak idiocy, especially since all federal employees like him were fingerprinted as a part of their pre-employment background checks. He was an absolute idiot for breaking in to begin with, but hopefully, a smart idiot.

Together, they crept down the rows of shelving units, him one side, her the other, peeking into bins, reading labels, on the hunt for anything that might suggest Nautic was harvesting mermaid parts.

Fish, fish, lobster, fish.

The labeling was all rather straightforward—pollock, bluefish, haddock, tuna, flounder—nothing vague that might be code for “merperson.” But he kept looking. Maybe there was something to find in the figurative “fine print.”

“Any luck over there?” he asked on the loud end of a whisper.

She shook her head curtly.

Row by row, bin by bin, they searched, carefully combing through Nautic’s products. Not even a hint that there might be nefarious underpinnings to the company’s business. Disappointment and frustration radiated from the tense set of Nireed’s shoulders, far too palpable to be disingenuous. She’d been counting on finding something damning.

An unexpected desire to offer the vicious mermaid comfort settled over him.

“There’s nothing here,” she hissed, yanking roughly on her hair roots. Angry tears sprung from her eyes.

The can of premade lobster bisque held in his hands was quickly abandoned on the nearest shelf. “Hey,” he soothed, crossing the aisle. He entwined her fingers with his, gently prying them away from her hair. “This place is probably checked regularly by a fisheries inspector. Nautic wouldn’t dare keep anything suspicious here.” He’d no idea if that was true, but Nireed seemed crushed by the lack of evidence, and he hated seeing her so distraught. “Looking here was a good hunch.”

She huffed out a frustrated breath, eyes shining with tears as she gazed up at him. “I need to stop them before more of my people die, and I’d hoped to find something here that proves we’re not lying.” She gestured limply to the shelving around them. “But nothing I do brings me any closer to securing my people’s safety.”

For all her strength and confidence on the docks, this Nireed seemed on the verge of a breakdown. It was the most vulnerable Reid had ever seen her. There was no thinking involved, he just tugged her into his chest, arms enfolding her body, comforting, shielding, being a rock to lean on, even if only just for a moment.

This sense of helplessness, of not being enough for the people counting on you, was a feeling he knew all too well. No matter how long he did his job, it would never be easy coming to terms with the fact that he couldn’t save everyone. Didn’t matter how strong, how fast, how smart a person was, no one was a miracle worker, not even supernatural creatures like Nireed.

He rested his cheek on top of her head, unfazed by the touch of cold, damp hair.

The mermaid had helped slaughter at least eight fishermen, and yet, it was getting harder and harder to distrust her.

“Hey, Carl!” A voice called out. “You see this? Door’s busted.”

They both froze, clinging to each other for one tense moment, before instinct, or acute dread, finally kicked in. Reid yanked Nireed into a tight, shadowy nook between shelving units, neither daring to breathe as their bodies pressed together.

They had to get out of here. There was another door toward the front of the warehouse, maybe one hundred or so feet away. Should they sneak out? Make a run for it?

Reid was making mental calculations when a second person shouted back. “Someone break in?”

“It sure looks like it. Better call the cops.”

The heavy plod of booted feet approaching made them both shrink back, Nireed’s claws curling into his jacket, but one look at her face, at the tightness in her jaw, and the ferocity in her eyes, said it was more restraint than fear.

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