Page 50 of Song of Lorelei

“There you go again,” Lorelei breathed, standing on her toes to press a kiss to his lips. “Knowing the right thing to say.”

He smiled against them and, with a wrapped an arm around her waist, pulled her flush, hand smoothing up the length of her back. On the downstroke, he unhooked her bra with the flick of a wrist. “Think we can make this one bed thing work?”

“We have before.”

“But this time you’ll be staying.”

Piece by piece, they stripped off the rest of their clothes, and fell onto the tiny mattress together, meeting with slow passion, their mutual exhaustion set aside for a time.

After, she lay draped across Killian, back to the wall, her cheek pressed to warm, dewy skin, head tucked just beneath his chin. They were all entangled limbs, but it was the only way they were going to fit on the tiny twin mattress together. For a time, he traced lazy lines up and down her side.

He fell asleep before she did—his hand coming to a rest at her hip. The rise and fall of his chest, the beat of his heart, all slowing. He was a master of falling asleep quickly, a necessary skill as the captain of an offshore fishing boat. It was a demanding job, the hours long and rough. Sometimes there wasn’t time for it, or weather conditions required all hands on deck. He’d learned to take sleep whenever he could get it.

As his skin cooled, and he curled into her more snugly, face nuzzled in her hair, she pulled a blanket over them both, and tucked him in. She slowed her breathing to match his, sleep edging the boundaries of her consciousness.

The sound of waves lapping against the metal hull was soothing. Just one year ago, she had thought the ocean sought to claim her. It had. But not in a way she could have ever imagined. She was a daughter of the sea, and it had called her home.

Killian shifted in his sleep, jostling her neck, which was already at a precarious angle. Wincing, she readjusted, tucking a bit of pillow between herself and Killian. She was sore and stiff, but that was a small price to pay for her loved ones’ safety and her control. She reckoned a larger debt was due—Nireed’s disappearance from HCMRC’s mermaid lab would not be a quiet affair. Not to mention her vanishing act during the museum Grand Opening. Even with the security cameras disabled, and a family emergency story planted, it didn’t take a scientist to put two and two together. But whatever troubles her return to work might bring, those were worries for tomorrow. Tonight, she would rest easy, knowing that Nireed was home once more and would heal under her pod’s care.

And more so, Lorelei also had Undine’s gratitude and respect. One day she might even be welcomed by the siren queen and the others as one of their own. A family above the waves and a family beneath them. What more could she want?

Burrowing underneath the blankets, Lorelei let the steady beat of Killian’s heart, and the low, rhythmic hum of Dawn Chaser’s engines lull her into a deep, blissful sleep.

Chapter Twenty-Eight

LORELEI

Security escorted her and Lila to Phil’s office. All they’d gotten when they arrived together was a gruff explanation from a guard about a theft and that every employee was being asked to speak up about anything strange they might’ve seen or heard. There was no mention of Nireed or the virophages or even the mermaid lab in general, but there was no doubt in Lorelei’s mind what this was about.

Phil must’ve wanted to keep it under wraps.

For now.

The director was perched on a corner of his desk when they entered, reviewing something on an electronic tablet, brows furrowed, but as they approached, he looked up, face shifting into an impassive mask. “Dr. Branson, Ms. Roth, please have a seat,” he said cordially, gesturing to the two chairs in front of him.

“What’s going on?” Lorelei sat, playing the part of clueless employee. “All we were told was that something was stolen.”

“That’s correct.” Folding his arms across his chest, Phil tucked the tablet under his arm. The screen was pressed against his body, so she couldn’t see what he’d been looking at. “We had a major security breach during the Grand Opening yesterday.”

She shared a look with Lila, both feigning surprise, and then her friend asked, “What’s been compromised? Was it a cyberattack?” The marine biologist’s concern was palpable, as would be expected, but it didn’t ring false. She was the picture of a scientist fearful for her data and intellectual property.

Something flickered across his gaze, but Lorelei couldn’t read the emotion, and it was gone in the blink of an eye. Drumming his fingers along the back of the tablet, he shook his head once before rounding the desk to collapse in his chair, air pushing out of the cushion in a puff. “Did either you see or hear anything weird? Maybe someone not from town?”

“Yesterday was a bit of a whir.” Lorelei paused, making show of thinking. “There were people everywhere—chatting, wandering through exhibits—but no one stuck out to me as peculiar.”

“Not even when you disappeared just one hour into the event?”

Silence fell upon the room, so succinct you could hear a pin drop.

But they’d expected this question and prepared for it.

“My mom called,” Lila said, her voice low and grave. “She was hysterical over the phone—I’ve never heard her so upset. Eventually, I was able to get out of her that my dad had been working on the roof and fell. And by that point, I was too freaked out to drive, so Lorelei took me.”

“I’m sorry to hear that.” Phil frowned, steepling his hands, as he leaned back in his chair. “How is he?”

“Badly bruised. Sore, but not as bad as we feared. He got lucky. We thought for sure he’d broken some bones.”

“That’s interesting…” He trailed, a smirk forming. Was he amused by this? Only outright laughter could be a more inappropriate response.

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