Page 45 of Ensnaring the Siren

“We killed those fishermen, ripped them all to pieces, and I helped. I know that looks bad.”

“Do you regret it?”

Her luminescent eyes flashed. “No.” Though her voice cracked, she didn’t look away. It wasn’t pride he saw there, shame neither, just the truth.

Maybe he was turning into a psycho, but he was glad she had no regrets. Anything nearing that seemed like a betrayal of her true nature, of the creature she was. Nireed was ruthless, but she was fair, too, and maybe the murderous, baby-stealing fishermen deserved what they got. “Which one was yours?”

“My what? My kill?” When he nodded, her expression darkened. “Are you sure you want to know that?”

It made for morbid bedside conversation, but yeah, he wanted to know which baby-stealing fucker met his doom at the end of Nireed’s claws. When he said as much, she replied, “The one behind the deck box.”

So the one who made a mother rescue her baby under gunfire. While Reid had been collecting evidence and taking pictures, he had found more bullet holes over by the net. It didn’t take a forensic scientist to put two and two together. “Damn. You ripped his head right off. I almost puked. He the one who hurt you?”

“Yes.”

“Guess there’s a lesson to be learned here, huh? Don’t fuck with merfolk.” What he didn’t say was he was damn glad that ass wipe hadn’t killed her. Just a little to the left and she would’ve suffered the slow, agonizing death of a gut wound.

Nireed quieted, sinking back into his pillows, an arm draped above her head. Her chest was bare, but he continued working with detached, clinical precision. Attraction didn’t factor in when his body was running on the kind of adrenaline that cared more about keeping her alive.

Once he got the bleeding to stop, he rinsed and cleaned the wound until Nireed said it no longer stung. Then, he applied antibiotic ointment to help prevent infection and gave her a non-NSAID for the pain while he got the sutures ready, threading a curved needle.

She eyed it warily. “That’s not a fishing hook, is it?”

It did sort of look like one. “It’s a surgical needle. We use it for sewing wounds.” He demonstrated on top of his skin without puncturing it. “What does the pod use?”

Surprise flickered across her face. “Whale bone. Part of the rib, so it does curve a little. Just not that much.”

“Nice. What’s with the surprise though?”

“Didn’t think you’d be interested in our methods.”

“Why wouldn’t I be?

She opened her mouth to say something, then closed it. “I don’t know,” she said after a time. “I guess with the fishermen hunting us, I sometimes forget not all Surface Dwellers think we’re animals.”

“I get that, but with any luck, it will all be over soon. Gathered a lot of evidence last night.” Hope illuminated her features, so bright not even the threaded needle he held up dimmed it. “Ready to get started?”

“Ready.”

“Take deep breaths. I’m pretty quick, but it’s a long injury, so just tell me if you need a break.”

She nodded, taking slow, deep breaths.

“All right. Here we go.”

He could feel her eyes on him, watching him while he worked. She felt her flinch from time to time but was all around handling the stitching process exceptionally well. The irritable way she twitched her tail was the only other sign she was in pain.

Before joining the Coast Guard, he’d done river rescue in Michigan, which was where he’d gotten his first round of EMS training, but it also came with the territory of being an Aviation Survival Technician, so his skills had remained sharp.

Halfway through, her breathing came out in heavy, rasping pants.

“Need a break?”

She shook her head, inhaling deeply.

“That’s it,” he said, admiring her strength. “Keep breathing.”

A few more stitches. “I always knew you were tough, but damn, I’m impressed. Best patient I’ve ever had.”

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