Page 62 of Siren in Love
Mike would have kissed him, stripped him, and made love to him right in the dunes, but he needed to keep whistling if he didn’t want to risk the ocean disobeying and drowning them.
The ocean, not in and of itself a killer of the undead, only served to pull the reanimated corpses out to the open sea.Pale, limp forms were dragged past them in the water that surrounded them like black glass, the zombies’ shrouds or gardeners’ uniforms drifting like nets around their decaying limbs.
Their hands were still reaching, the magic that made them move and crave not dampened at all.Mike didn’t see Dominic anywhere, and since the zombies were still moving against the current with magic-induced strength, the necromancer that had given them that strength still lived.
Mike took Corvin’s hand as he stared at the walls of water around them, wide-eyed and wonderstruck.Peter needed minimal prodding to walk back toward the shore.
Just when it looked as if the zombie problem was neatly solved, at least until they got the necromancer, a grayish arm shot out from the watery walls around them.
Mike was relieved when that bony hand didn’t reach for Corvin, the man he loved and would die for.He was almost happy when those cold, wet fingers closed around his own throat, cutting off the air he needed to keep the water at bay.
The moment the fingers clamped down, Mike’s whistling broke off, and the ocean crashed down over them, leaving them with nothing but darkness and salt.
27
Corvin
Corvindidn’tknowwhatthe accepted standard was, but he felt like he’d been handling the revelations of the past few hours extremely well.He’d taken the stalkery ex in stride, and he’d not been overly superstitious when Peter the Terrible had, for some reason, booked them into the honeymoon suite prematurely.
I truly am Saint Corvin.Oh, should I be calling Peter Peter the Vampire now?Fuck.He lied to me.That copy ofThe Origin of Specieswas totally dedicated to him.
Corvin thought he’d taken a lot in his stride, and quite frankly, he was positive he deserved another week at the resort, except without the zombies.
Yes, that really is a revelation.Zombies are a thing.The zombie preppers got it right.Who’d’ve thunk?
What Corvin was in no way willing to take—in stride or otherwise—was his fiancé drowning.
He watched as a pale hand grabbed Mike by the throat.Whatever cool siren magic Mike had used to tame the water stopped, and they went from walking on wet sand one moment to trying to get air into their lungs the next.
Peter tried to reach Corvin as the ocean descended on them, but Corvin instead turned to Mike, who—like a complete and utter idiot—let go of Corvin’s hand.Corvin held on though, and while the salt water stung his eyes and drowned his screams, he could see the outline of the zombie clutching Mike’s throat, could see Mike, a pleading look on his face.
Corvin knew he only had moments, because if he let go of Mike now, there was no way he’d find him again.Not at night, not with zombies in the water trying to drown them, and not with one of those clinging to Mike.
The trowel, Corvin thought, even as his lungs began to sting from lack of air.
Forcing his limbs to fight against the cold water and the current that tried to pull them apart, Corvin yanked on Mike’s hand, dragging himself forward along Mike’s arm, all the way to his shoulder.The zombie was trying to bury its teeth in Mike’s neck.
You fucking corpse!Stay dead.Corvin shoved the improvised weapon at the corpse, slowly, because the water pulled against his muscles, making them burn and ache.He managed to get the dull blade into the zombie’s eye socket, and with the air he had left in his aching lungs, he drove the trowel into the zombie’s brain, forcing it forward and deeper.
The zombie stilled, and its grip on Mike’s throat eased.Corvin wanted to breathe, desperately, but there was water all around.He had no idea where up was.
Everything went dark around them.The ocean had them.
28
Corvin
Corvinwasbackonthe bed in their honeymoon suite.He lay on soft sheets, his head on a soft pillow, and cool lips pressed against his.Mike.He wanted to pull Mike close.Maybe the window in their room was open.Corvin was cold, so cold.
He came back to himself, at first very slowly, then violently, coughing water and panting.He wanted Mike, but it wasn’t Mike leaning over him, breathing into his lungs.It was Peter.
Corvin croaked and tried to struggle upright.Peter was gone a moment later, and Corvin panicked.
He looked around.On his right, a dark figure approached them.Corvin thought he heard mad laughter, but he couldn’t be sure.The sky was no longer night’s black, but the color of fresh bruises.On Corvin’s left, Peter knelt, bent over Mike’s limp body.
No!
Corvin struggled into a sitting position, which was when Dominic reached them, and before Corvin could do a single thing, the necromancer kicked him in the side, hard.
