Page 49 of Song of Lorelei

“Nothing,” Lorelei repeated and then hissed, sucking her teeth. Despite the numbing, a sudden sharp pinch in her deep tissues made her spasm, followed by the unnerving sensation of needle sliding in at the base of her skull. Beyond the brief initial pain, the injection didn’t hurt, but it felt weird as hell; she’d never been more aware of that part of her body. “It’s almost over, love,” Killian murmured, placing a hand on her lower back. “She’s pushing in the serum.” The best Lorelei could describe the sensation was a slow trickle of cool liquid. A shiver ran down the length of her spine.

Next thing she knew, the pressure from the straps and padding lifted, and light returned to her vision. She blinked back the light’s sting. Hands supporting her head and back, she was rolled over onto her back and was met with Lila’s and Killian’s beaming smiles shining down at her. Lila squeezed her wrist. “You did it. The worst is over. Just hang tight for ten minutes and try to lay still.”

“How do you feel?” Killian asked, rubbing soothing circles across her temple.

As she laid there, smiling up at her fiancé, the virophage was already at work, attacking the brain virus that had come to control her life and the terrible hunger that demanded she consume human flesh. When she stepped off this boat, her loved ones would finally be safe from her beyond any shadow of doubt. No more chance of slipping up and making an irreversible, horrifying mistake. “That was a little weird, but I feel great.” Gaze flicking to Lila, who was busy disposing wipes and syringes into a biohazardous waste disposal container, Lorelei said, “You did great, too. You’ve come a long, long way from last year.” She touched her stomach where scars from siren talons lay beneath her shirt.

Lila twisted her mouth at the gruesome memory. While she hadn’t stitched those wounds, she cleaned and dressed them before taking Lorelei to the hospital. It understandably freaked her out, both grossed out by the task and completely out of her depth in attempting it. But Lila got the job done, and in the time since, she stepped outside her wheelhouse and learned how to do intracerebroventricular injections under the supervision and guidance of HCMRC’s marine veterinarian. She’d done this procedure a dozen times, determined to practice away her squeamishness, and it showed. “I wanted to be ready when this day came,” the marine biologist said, brushing back curls the wind blew across her face.

When it was okay to get up, Lorelei eased herself off the gurney, and finally took stock of the awaiting sirens. They had all gone quiet, even the children. They stared back at her with troubled expressions. Perhaps even a little fear. She looked to Undine and signed, “I’m fine. Some pain and weird feelings, but not too bad. Sirens have faced worse, I’m sure, following attacks by sharks and other predators.”

Undine nodded, speaking and signing at once, “This is new to us, but if you can bare it, we can, too.” She then motioned Lorelei forward and took her by the shoulders, spinning her around, back to the rest of the group. Rough, taloned hands pushed up the hair covering the back of her neck. “Tiny, tiny wound,” she said, and dropped Lorelei’s hair. Smirking, she spoke and signed, “It’s my turn now, and best believe I won’t make a sound, unlike our soft Shorewalker friend here.”

Undine winked at Lorelei as she climbed onto the gurney next. She may have called Lorelei soft, but there was no insulting sting. Glancing at the other sirens, Lorelei saw that many of them had straightened, chins lifted in determination. Undine had just issued them a challenge, calling upon their competitive natures, and told them to buck up.

When Lila pushed the long needle in, Undine made not a sound. She barely even flinched. Just as she boasted.

They administered injections late into the night, requiring use of Dawn Chaser’s deck lights, and a spotlight that Katrina and Lorelei took turns holding. After Undine got her injection, other sirens stepped forward, eager to prove themselves. Adults and juveniles alike offered one another comfort and support. Mothers sang lullabies to their young children, putting them into relaxed stupors, not unlike the trances humans fell into when hearing siren song. Some returned to the water right away. Others lingered to poke around the boat and chat with the others over extra cans of potted meat. “You’re as white as fish’s underbelly,” one teased, elbowing another who was holding onto the railing in a death grip, either afraid of the boat, or the injection to come.

Lila’s little pop-up clinic had become a siren community event, and Lorelei couldn’t be more relieved.

When the last member of the siren pod slipped back into the water, returning to the dark depths of their watery home, the deck grew quiet, absent of jovial siren chatter. Only Undine remained onboard. She turned to Lorelei and her gathered friends, each bone-tired and swaying back and forth on sore feet. Undine’s eyes and limbs glowed blue with bioluminescence in the dark shadow of night. She bowed her head and pressing a closed fist to her chest, over her heart. “Thank you, Shorewalker child, and Cure Creator,” she said. “You kept your promises.”

Lila’s lower lip trembled. She had been given a siren name.

“Our work today is done, but there is still more to do,” Lorelei said, gesturing to the unopened coolers with virophage injections. “We have enough to give to at least some to your men, but we can discuss that at another time.”

Undine smiled, nodding. “Yes, another time. Soon. But tonight, we celebrate, and you rest Two-Legger friends.” She climbed up onto the gunwale and paused. Looking at them over her shoulder, she said, “No matter what comes next, our people will always remember this day, for as long as we swim the seas.”

Then the siren queen disappeared over the side and into the black abyss.

Chapter Twenty-Seven

LORELEI

Mumbling an exhausted goodnight to her friends, Lorelei watched Katrina and Lila shuffle down the hallway toward the crew’s quarters. They leaned into one another, swaying from side to side with tiredness, not a lack of sturdy sea legs or a steady boat. In the middle of a murmured conversation of who would take who’s bunk, Lila yawned long and loud.

When the two disappeared inside, Lila to Will’s bunk, and Katrina to Walt’s, Lorelei ducked into Killian’s snug little cabin, clicking the door shut. She was eternally grateful to both of those women. They faced one unknown after the next with her. Loved her and supported her at her worst. Didn’t run screaming from a boatful of murderous, people-eating sirens. She couldn’t have two braver friends.

Lifting Killian’s mattress to reveal the hidden compartment underneath, Lorelei pulled out a sweater and a large pair of charcoal grey sweatpants, the same ones she wore a year ago today, after Killian plucked her half-frozen out of the ocean. She smiled a little at the memory and how tenderly he’d cared for her in those early days, when they were little more than strangers.

The sound of boots clomped down the deck stairs and paused just outside the door. A quiet rap on the door followed, along with Killian’s voice. “Hey, Lorelei. It’s just me. Will’s taking the helm first. May I come in?”

Setting down the bundle of clothes, Lorelei crossed the tiny cabin to open the door. Killian stood just outside, sleepy-eyed, hands shoved in his pockets and his sweater rumpled. “Good timing. I was just about to get ready for bed.”

“Need some help?” He winked, following her inside.

Pressing the back of her hand to her forehead, she sighed. “Oh Captain, I am so exhausted, I can scarcely raise my arm to swoon. How will I ever manage to take off my clothes?”

“You’re ridiculous,” Killian laughed. “Come here.” He pulled her to him by the waistband of her jeans. His warm, calloused hands roved up her sides as he lifted her shirt. “You were so brave and amazing today.”

Lorelei arched a brow. “Me?” If anyone was brave today, it was this man for willingly inviting a pod of murderous mermaids onto his boat. And her friends for being on a “floating charcuterie board.”

He tugged the shirt over her head and swept her hair free of the neckline. “Yeah, you.” His fingers brushed lightly over the skin at the base of her skull. Even that barest touch felt sore, the numbing agent having worn off. But she didn’t mind. “That injection was gnarly. You saw how long that needle was, and where it was going, but you stayed calm, because for any of this to work the sirens had to be willing to get it. To let their children get it. You read the situation and did what was needed.”

“You’ve always done the same for me.” She gripped his shoulders, giving a little shake to emphasize her point. “You always know just what to do or say, and I couldn’t have done any of this without you.”

“Well.” He chuckled, thumbing open the button of her jeans. “It’s felt more like flying by the seat of my pants, at times, but I’ve always been certain that we’re better together. Life’s full of unknowns, and you’ve opened my eyes to a literal sea of them. There’s no one I’d rather face it all with than you.”

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