Page 29 of Siren Problems
And it makes me hate myself a little more.
Because I wanted to answer.
I wanted tosing.
CHAPTER 11
LUNA
You’d think a beach town built on magic would have better lifeguards.
But no. All it takes is one drunk tourist with a death wish and a fascination with tidepool selfies, and suddenly we’ve got a full-on riptide rescue happening thirty feet from my half-damp beach towel.
“Where the hell is everyone?” I yell, scanning the beach.
Mira’s sprinting down from the dunes, half-shouting into a charm shell. The lifeguard station’s empty—ofcourseit is, because Leo the mermaid-shifter is probably off flirting with a kelpie again.
But then Calder’s there.
One blink he isn’t—next, he’s diving into the surf like the oceanmadehim for this. No hesitation. No prep. Just raw motion, body slicing through water like it’s air.
And he’sfast.
Way too fast for someone who claims to be a retired fisherman with bad knees and no magic.
Within seconds, he’s got the kid. Pulls him out like it’s nothing. Tosses him to the sand and vanishes again, like the tide swallowed him back up.
By the time I reach the spot where the crowd’s gathering, Calder’s already walking away, dripping and silent, face like thunder.
And my bullshit meter is infreefall.
I waituntil the storm breaks.
Because of course one rolls in—the sea always throws a tantrum after Calder uses whatever it is he’snottelling me about.
The sky cracks open around 9 p.m., lightning crawling across the clouds like drunk spiders. Wind howls through the shutters of the beach house, and the ley lines under my floorboards buzz like angry bees.
He’s outside.
I know it.
So I grab my boots and my frustration and stomp toward the bluff like I’ve got something to prove.
Because maybe I do.
I find him standing near the cliff’s edge, arms crossed, shirt plastered to him from the rain. He doesn’t look at me.
“You’re lucky I didn’t drag you to a town council meeting,” I say, voice raised over the wind. “Because I’ve got about sixteen eyewitnesses who just watched you outswim a riptide like Aquaman on adrenaline.”
Still nothing.
“Calder.”
He turns. His eyes are darker in this light. Storm-bright. Shadow-wrapped.
“You want to tell me what the hell that was?” I ask. “Because I’m running out of scientific explanations for how many impossible things you keep casually doing.”
He exhales slowly. “I didn’t mean to draw attention.”
