Page 30 of Siren's Treasure

Tobias threw him another teasing look. “Why so desperate to distance yourself from being a part of her little sea family anyway?”

Morris was glaring at them from across the ship, but still Raggon stayed to defend his position. “Don’t look at it too deeply, little brother.”

“What?” Her eyes moved between them like a musket ball ricocheting between battling ships. She was hopelessly lost by their verbal sparring. Did they have some kind of legend that she didn’t know about? Some filthy lie to elevate their people’s importance by promoting them to Sea Sovereignty, of all things! After whatthatman they called a descendant did to Undine? “What does this have to do with my family?” she asked.

“Yeah, what’s going on, Raggon?” Tobias asked. She’d be a blind reef fish not to notice he was laughing at Raggon’s hunted expression. “You don’t want to be part of the great Sea Sovereignty?” his brother asked. “Is that it?”

“We’re not related at all,” she sputtered. Their deplorable ancestor caused her aunt’s death, but it hardly seemed polite to point out… or diplomatic, considering her present situation—

“See?” Raggon cut in. “We’re not remotely related, and you and I, Tobias, are far too removed to be heirs of the Sea Sovereignty. I don’t know why everyone’s so eager to pick up on that distant connection lately.” His gaze shot to Morris, who was now in deep conversation with a stern-faced man studying charts at the quarterdeck. Escaping this conversation on the excuse that the old advisor needed him clearly wasn’t going to work anymore. Raggon turned back to them. “Call me old-fashioned, but I prefer to chart the waters of—of,” his eyes veered to her, “my family tree before I consider… uh…”

“Branching out?” Tobias suggested. His eyes brightened in a look that was far too innocent for that mischievous grin.

Raggon threw his hands up with a grumbling laugh. “Did I make a mistake putting you in charge of her?”

Probably!

A crash and chorus of curses erupted as the morning’s porridge pot overturned on deck. Among the chaos, August towered over the others, his bare chest displaying tattoos of harpoons thrown at merfolk, their faces frozen in terror. He caught Thessa staring, and grinning menacingly, he deliberately flexed so the inked creatures seemed to writhe across his skin.

Noticing her involuntary flinch, Tobias glanced behind him, one hand instinctively rising to shield her from the raucous crew. His brown eyes squinted when he turned his head too quickly. That collar was choking him!

“Are you okay?” Her concerned fingers seemed to have a mind of their own as she scooted closer to inspect his hateful imprisonment. Dark veins spread from beneath the choker like ink in water. The skin around the black iron, in particular, had begun to pucker and take on an unusual texture.

His cheeks flared at her interest, and he tried to laugh off her worried gaze.

She dropped her hand, her eyes shooting to Raggon, who leaned against the gunwale with forced casualness, his gaze darting between his brother’s collar and the horizon like a caged shark. Was this why he looked at her with such raw hope when she’d mentioned Undine Blade, even as he’d locked her away? He was all barely contained violence and desperate plans.

Thessa shuddered at what would happen if she failed to liberate Tobias. The tortured vigilance in Raggon’s eyes told her everything. His younger brother was the one thread of humanity that kept this man’s soul from dropping into a deep abyss—his last saving grace that divided him from the heartless and cruel ruffians of this ship.

In an instant, she vowed that the first thing she’d do after finding Undine’s blade was to cut this boy free. She’d save two souls with that one act.

“I can’t imagine you got much sleep last night,” Tobias said with a pained grin, though still unbelievably laced with his family’s humor. “My brother’s a dirty bilge-rat—snores like a bear.”

She covered her mouth at his continual teasing, with no idea of what a bear was, and yet, the laugh that bubbled up from her own throat surprised her—a sound so different from her underwater songs, though somehow just as natural. Finally! Raggon was getting payback for his bad behavior last night.

“I have ear plugs if you need them, Princess.” There was nothing sarcastic when Tobias used her title, the boy was sincerity when it came to her.

“Don’t let him charm you, Thessa.” Raggon wrenched his anxious look from his brother and forced a lighthearted smile on tight lips. “Tobias is the mastermind behind our little surprise this morning.”

“Oh?” Tobias brightened. “You opened my birthday present?”

“Really? Is that what you call it? Don’t you mean booby trap!”

“Raggon,” the Duke called again, rougher this time. The weather-faced man arguing with him over maps was long gone. “This cannot wait.”

Shooting a sharp look of warning at his brother, against what she could only guess, Raggon disappeared, his body evaporating before he joined the Duke at the quarterdeck, where charts were spread across a weathered table, corners weighted down with navigational tools.

Thessa turned back to Tobias. “You’re an inventor?” She’d only learned the word that morning, but the idea of improving the natural world seemed like an enchanting concept. “What was that terrifying monster you made?”

“A wave whistler.” His eyes shone with pride. “It translates wave patterns into music—it senses the rocking of the waves and the sea creatures beyond—it can mimic anything from whale songs to wind whistles.”

She was fascinated. “So, that… thing was just attempting to mimic the sounds around it?” From the creaks in the ship, to her screams? The whistler had done a poor job, though now she wished it was in her hands, so they could play with it.

Of course, they’d never be able to collect it from the cabin without meeting up with trouble. If only she had her siren’s voice! Even now, August leered at her with a grin that showed more missing teeth than those hideous crooked yellowed ones. She turned her shoulder from the man’s cruel attempt at intimidation.

And then recoiled from the stink of his approach—disgusting! He was coming for her. Was everything an invitation to him—even ignoring him? The man had a strong unwashed human scent, the odor turning her stomach as he closed in. She tried not to provoke him by taking notice. An eerie dragging soundmarked his movement, and glancing under her lashes as he circled her, she saw his whip trailing along the deck like an eel, the leather worn and darkened with use.

“The siren’s got legs now, but can she run?”

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