Page 98 of Ensnaring the Siren

“Copy that.”

It was Killian who ended up going down below decks with him—the reporter, too, a petite, fluffy white-haired woman with a camcorder. It took every bit of self-restraint Reid had to follow his sister’s advice and not just beeline it to Nireed. She must’ve had a good reason.

He’d never forget what he saw onboard Gale’s Promise. The broken bodies, the dismembered limbs, the fisherman missing the top part of his head, ripped away at the jaw. Nireed had contributed to that, but this time, whatever carnage they found would be all hers.

Jackie went down first. “It’s like a horror movie down here,” she whispered, gently panning the camcorder from left to right.

It was dead quiet like Gale’s Promise.

The factory ship should’ve been loud, boisterous, its assembly line equipment a constant mechanical clamor, but it was so quiet Reid could hear the ocean on the other side of the hull, waves lapping against the side.

Busted florescent lights flickered in and out overhead. Claw marks slashed across the walls, leaving deep gouges. And bullet casings littered the floor. There were crushed headsets and guns with their barrels twisted too.

A force of nature had ripped through here, leaving destruction in her wake, but where was the blood? The bodies? The rest of the ship’s crew and factory line workers? Aside from a single set of smeared, bloody footprints, there was nothing but a strange, unsettling stillness.

Reid’s stomach clenched. The bloody footprints had to be Nireed’s. And right now, she was alone in the pilothouse, hurt. Why hadn’t Lorelei said anything?

Their footsteps echoed as they inched down the empty hallway, pausing every few steps so Jackie could take pictures. It got colder and colder the farther they went, the refrigeration unit quietly humming.

“I’ll never get used to the fish hold smell.” Jackie stepped around the bloody footprints, glass crunching beneath her shoes. “It’ll be burned into my nose for the rest of the day. I don’t know how you do it, Killian.”

“It’s better than the alternative. It’s when you stop smelling it that there’s a problem.”

“Did a story on that some years back. A couple of greenhorn fishermen noticed a strange odor and went down into the hold. Lost consciousness. It was hydrogen sulfide buildup from all the dead fish.”

“I remember that. The fire department had to go in and clear the space.”

“Did they get the fishermen out?” Such cases weren’t within the scope of his job, but Reid had heard about them.

“Had to be hospitalized, but yeah, they got lucky.” Jackie stopped so abruptly, Reid almost bowled her over. “Damn. Would you look at that?” She pointed at the empty threshold before them.

Their motley trio hovered outside the fish processing hold, each staring at the thick metal door ripped clean off its hinges. The sheer strength that must’ve taken. Reid always knew Nireed was strong, but this was far greater than he ever could’ve imagined.

No one made a move to venture inside.

“Lorelei said it was safe to come down here.” Killian’s voice trailed, but even he sounded unsure.

“Says the woman with mermaid strength.” Jackie huffed, snapping another round of photos.

So the reporter knew. And Killian didn’t seem alarmed by it, so it must be all right.

“I’ll go first.” Reid was a rescue swimmer, not a boarding officer, so he didn’t exactly know how to clear a room, but as the only service member present, he figured he ought to take on the most risk.

Neither of his companions protested, so he took the initiative and edged inside, mentally bracing himself for what he might see.

There was the missing crew.

Every single one of them hung from the ceiling in a net, staring down at him with pleading eyes, but apart from a few bumps and scrapes, they didn’t appear to be hurt. Some looked more angry than fearful, many were crying, but none yelled or begged for help. They must’ve been compelled into complete and utter silence by either Nireed or his sister.

How in the hell had they gotten them up there? That was the first question.

How in the hell are we going to get them down? Was the second.

Jackie scooted past him to continue snapping photos farther in, but quickly turned away, a hand clasped over her mouth. She went very, very still and glassy-eyed.

Reid tore his attention from The Seriphus’s crew.

On first look, the horror seemed to be the wreckage Nireed left behind, a classic tale of monster meets man, but there was a grislier truth beneath it all. The true horror wasn’t Nireed, but what Nautic had done in greed.

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