Page 15 of Of Song and Darkness

“I’m going to kill her before we even make it to our destination,” I grumbled as I slammed the cabin door closed behind me. I wanted to wring her scrawny neck for disturbing my peaceful sleep. “Tell the crew to return to their barracks,” I thundered as a crowd gathered around the door that led below. If this was a new trick of the siren, I didn’t want my men anywhere around her.

“Yes, Cap’n.” Cael wrinkled his brow at me and then started yelling orders to the crew.

As I made my way down to her, my pulse increased in tempo, which was odd. Why should I care if the siren was in distress? I didn’t. I willed myself to calm my rapid pace. I didn’t know what her wailing was all about, but she couldn’t be in danger. More than likely, she was laying a trap for anyone who dared pity her cries for help. I slowly descended the two stories to get to her.

Her screaming got louder the further I went down into the hold. When I opened the door, darkness engulfed me. The bloody lantern had gone out. I fumbled around in the dark until I lit it again. Light flooded the room, and I looked at her. Her screaming momentarily stopped as I walked up to the cell bars.

“Let me out,” she wailed, and I took notice of the tears streaking down her face.

“Not happening, so you can stop this display. If you don’t stop all of this screaming, I’ll come in there and give you a reason to…” My threat died on my tongue as I looked down at her, and so did my rage.

She was unusually pale and quivered all over. She wasn’t pretending. I had seen that look before, usually right before I ran my blade through someone. The siren was terrified. I shoved the key into the lock and cautiously entered the room. Sirens were as cunning as they were beautiful, so I was fully aware that she could be setting a death trap. I put my hand on the hilt of my sword as I stopped in front of her.

“Please… I can’t breathe.” She panted as another tremor overtook her body.

Against my better judgment, which was clearly lacking at the moment, I reached down and picked her up off the floor. Her skin was cold to the touch, and she reeked of vomit. I glanced down at the cell floor where she had spewed the contents of her stomach again. Sink me! My mission would be moot and void if I killed her in the process. She quaked in my arms as I carried her up the rickety wooden steps that led to the ship’s deck. I sat her backside on the railing while still holding tightly to her midsection so she didn’t fall off the ship. In her condition, I doubted she could stand on her own.

“Breathe, lass.” Her back was flush against my bare chest, and she leaned her head against my shoulder and breathed deeply.

I glanced down at her as she closed her eyes and took in several deep breaths of air.

“That’s right. Calm yourself.” I was soothing a bloody siren. My brain had definitely leaped over the railing right along with my good sense.

After several minutes ticked by, she slowly pried her eyes open.

I shook my head and pulled her from the railing. Showing any form of goodwill to one of her kind sickened me, and yet here I was, helping her calm down from what appeared to be a bout of claustrophobia. This siren was obviously more powerful than I initially thought. She was making me do stupid things like releasing her from the brig and bringing her on deck without even using her siren song. She steadied herself against the railing, and I retreated a few steps from her to regain my senses.

Her gaze swept longingly over the sea as it twinkled in the moonlight.

“You’ll drown if you jump overboard,” I reminded her of her human form.

I leaned beside her against the railing, allowing a glance down the length of her body.

“A siren, drown?” She huffed in disbelief.

“You’re not a siren anymore. Remember?” To prove my point, I brushed the toe of my boot against her calf. “Hence the reason why I said if you jump ship, you will die. We’re miles from land now, and you no longer have the ability to swim or breathe underwater. Like it or not, sea demon, you are stuck on my ship.”

Touching her was a mistake because my eyes immediately followed where my boot brushed her skin. For someone who had just recently grown a pair of legs, she had some nice ones.

“My name is Rhea, not sea demon,” she hissed. Her color was returning, and so was her fiery temper. “Princess of Aquarius,” she added, as if it would make any difference to the fate she faced.

“Would Her Highness like to wash the vomit from her hair? You reek.” I mockingly bowed before her.

“I hate you,” she hissed between clenched teeth.

I walked back toward the lower deck. “The feeling is mutual, sea demon.”

I did not hear footsteps following behind me. She was still staring out into the dark blue sea that swirled against the ship’s hull. I hesitated for a second, thinking she might actually try to jump, but I guess my warning about drowning had stuck. With a sorrowful sigh, she turned and followed me below.

I kept glancing over my shoulder, ensuring she was keeping her distance. Having a siren to my back was not an ideal situation, but it seemed as if the fight had temporarily been wrung out of her. I opened my cabin door and gestured for her to proceed.

“You have until I return to wash yourself off and change into this.” I motioned to a warped wooden bucket of water in the corner, pulled out another one of my shirts from the wardrobe, and tossed it on the bed.

I stepped out of the room and closed the door behind me, satisfied when I heard the slosh of water. I needed a shot of rum, but I didn’t think leaving her alone in my cabin was a good idea. To ward off an impending headache, I pinched the bridge of my nose. I stood outside the door like a watchdog.

When the splashing of water ceased, everything went quiet. I opened the door and walked back in. She was waiting in the middle of the room, somewhat clean with a fresh shirt on. Her long, damp hair dripped onto the white shirt, making it nearly see-through.

She flinched when I stepped toward her. “Don’t make me go back down there.”

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