Page 31 of Bombshell

The old squid hated listening to the creatures of the sea and ruled our ranks with an iron fist—what he said went—so whenI took over I tried to take a more democratic approach where everyone’s voice was heard.

And damn was I regretting it now. In fact I was seriously considering changing our faction into a dictatorship if they went on for much longer.

Santi was standing at my elbow in his monster form, his slitted bright green eyes going back and forth as people continued to shout out of turn.

“Enough!” my voice boomed over them, echoing off of the walls of the tidal cave where we held all of our meetings. I was one of many that dotted the coastline, but it was the only one that could hold nearly four hundred supernatural creatures while still providing enough shelter and privacy from prying eyes.

“None of you are wrong to complain,” I began, standing a little taller when all eyes finally moved to me. “But we must do it in an orderly fashion so that I can address everything properly.”

Silence filled the room, and for a brief moment, I was sure that they understood and would comply.

Then the same siren as before huffed and crossed her arms over her bare breasts. “I don’t know why we have to listen to you. You barely spend any time in the ocean at all. Why wouldyoucare about ocean currents being off?”

That set every other supernatural creature off and the cacophony of voices started up again but much louder this time.

With a shake of my head I turned to Mrs. Sandling, an old wizened kappa woman who looked about two seconds awayfrom shrinking her wrinkled head back into her shell to get away from all of the noise. She was also the secretary of the coalition and took meeting notes as studiously as anyone I’d ever seen… even if her notes looked like a jumbled mess right now from everyone shouting over one another.

“Once they calm down can you please get their names and their complaints for me? I’ll go to them one-by-one over the next few weeks to address their concerns.”

“Of course,” Mrs. Sandling said in a rickety voice. “Should I call them over to me?”

I glanced out at the still noisy crowd before shaking my head. “No, let them figure it out themselves.”

With that I turned to Santi. “Santiago, you’re with me.”

Together we swept out of the cave, diving in tandem into the ocean to begin our swim back to Port Haven.

The journey was silent and gave me time to really think about what I’d heard tonight.

The siren’s earlier words were ringing in my head. She was right about two things. The ocean’s currentwasoff, making it more difficult to swim toward the town, like something was trying to drag us back out into sea.

And secondly, she was right about the fact that I barely spent any time in the ocean at all anymore.

As the years went on I spent more and more time on land working on Monstrous Ink and focusing more on what was going on with my family up there rather than the supernatural creatures who rarely came to me for help anymore.

Guilt sat heavy in my gut as we made it back to the Wharf, swimming underneath the dock until we reached the almost comically small yellow submarine that functioned as the entrance of my grotto.

I’d been going through my Beatles phase back in the sixties when the enchantment on my last grotto entrance was starting to fade. When the witch had asked me what I wanted the facade to look like… I’d only had one answer.

Now, nearly sixty years later, the paint was starting to peel and the porthole windows had long since been covered with thick green algae.

But, like a certain Doctor’s blue police phone box on television, my little yellow submarine was definitely bigger on the inside.

Touching the spinning handle on the top was all one needed to do in order to be transported inside the swanky, almost cavernous space of my grotto.

It looked more like a fancy penthouse apartment than any submarine ever could. The front entryway led down a short hallway, past a kitchen I almost never used and into a massive living room that had floor to ceiling windows showing the ocean outside.

“They aren’t wrong you know,” Santi said as soon as he stepped through the magical threshold behind me, the enchantment on the door making it so that he was completely dry as he followed me into the living room.

“About what?”

Santi shrugged, his blue-green skin shimmering and melting away until he looked human again, his dark hair flopping in his face as he dropped down onto the large sectional that took up most of the living room.

“About the ocean—there is something really wrong with it. The current has been getting rougher. Keke told me that she’s had to save twice as many people at the beach over the last week. Most stay out of the water until July but every one of them said that it was like the water was drawing them in.”

Keke was the local lifeguard, a blonde haired, blue eyed mermaid who spent most of her time lounging in the sand scrolling on her phone.

“Do you think it’s magic? A siren maybe?” I asked, frowning as I tried to think of all of the ways someone could change up the very current of the ocean.

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