Chapter 4
Mei
The Present- OR
Three months after Mei made the deal to become a captive of the Sirens and then escaped
“I have been here for too many moon cycles to count, but I fear this shall be my last. Hunger has driven me out into the open, and who knows what evils I might find to amuse myself with.”
The mouse, unperturbed by my dramatic mutters, ignores me and continues to scurry on its way past. I really should eat it, but it’s become my only friend.
“Though this fortress has been my sacred hiding place, I fear it is safe no longer. Tonight, we break the cage, escape if we can, or die trying. No Siren will keep me chained.”
I should probably stop listening to the TV that they keep blaring, but picking up on human speech patterns wasn’t all that difficult, after all, my mother was from here.
Also, I have nothing else to do. Sure, I stumble over some words and meanings, and I have an accent, but it’s language, and it’s another connection to her.
The stupidity of thinking that it would be different here is how I got into this situation in the first place.
No, I got into this position because I don’t want to die, and if I stayed out there, struggling in this most hostile of places, I would have.
Earth is not what I thought it would be. At all.
I unfurl from my motionless stillness and creep out of my hiding spot. I must go up the stairs of creaking doom, through the doorway of cold winds, and out into the place they call home.
“Good morning, beautiful night,” I sing to myself.
At some point, I really need to pat myself on the back for finding such an amazing hiding spot, dangerous though it is.
Three months ago, I made the agreement with the sirens in order to save the Frost Prince for his omega.
And then, I promptly disappeared because sticking around to be tortured and tormented? I don’t think so.
I’ve been hiding.
In plain sight, right under their noses. Technically, I have fulfilled my end of the bargain, they just have no idea.
If any of those Siren bastards had used a brain cell between them, they’d have realised I was still here.
The genius of it took a fair few nights to wear off, but there’s one huge issue with hiding in this house I didn’t anticipate.
I can’t fucking get out. I like that word, fucking.
Humans say it a lot on TV when they are mad.
Fucking this. Fucking that. It comes out of the mouth well, and I deserve a moment to be angry with the world and my existence.
I’m sick of being prey.
Does anyone know how hard it is to hide from the shiver that wants you dead when you can’t even get out of their house?
My nerves aren’t shot or frayed; they are wisps of memory of frayed.
My poor talons and fingernails have been bitten down to the quick; I am constantly hungry and thirsty. I am bored!
So, so bored.
The furtive movement towards the sleeping quarters are so quiet I almost don’t hear them, but then my senses explode, like decomposing bodies bursting from full guts of gas. I race through the house, having already mapped it completely.
I inhale as I run, ignoring those hated ocean scents, and catch a whiff of something like grass.
You don’t belong here; I sing in my head, and before I can stop myself, I giggle.
The creature, almost upon the sleeping Sirens, freezes, panic in the stillness of its body. I can feel it trembling through the air. Its rich fear bursting up and oozing out of it.
“Naughty, naughty,” I whisper and let out another maniacal laugh. It’s like a cannon boom.
It tries to run, but I’m fast, deadly, and bored.
There is no way it’s getting away from me. I slice and attack. It shrieks and screams. So much delicious noise. The metallic scent of blood fills the air. I am alive; I am free.
The icy rage of the Sirens wakes up, rolling over me like a blanket of misery.
I ignore them, but they really have stolen my fun. With a murderous flick of my fingers, I slice through its throat, sending its life force to spray across the walls. I hum happily, relishing in the warmth of arterial blood.
This is what I’ve been missing.
“WHAT THE FUCK?”
There’s that word again. I grab my prey and drag it to my mouth, biting deep, claiming it as mine.
“Of all the ocean’s filth, would you put that down!” Reed snaps. “You can’t eat it.”
“Mine!” I hiss.
Something clocks me over the head, and my prize is stolen.
“Mine!” Ronit says in his deep, rumbling voice.
The outrage. The nerve! Before I can turn on him, I’m shoved up against a wall. The hot aura of Brio stabbing at me. He is so prickly.
“How did you get in here?”
Listening to him talk for three months has made me feel like I know him, them. We’re almost friends now. Except, you know, they want to eviscerate me.
I snort and lick the blood off my lips. Mmm, so good.
“Ugh, she is foul. How the hell did she get in here without us knowing?” Brio shouts. “She could have killed us!”
Could have. I fucking well should have, but I’m not sure I could have actually succeeded if I’d tried. That is the only reason they are still alive. Well, the only reason I will admit to.
Plus, I also need to know how to get out of this prison. The doors don’t open, there are no windows, no holes anywhere. It’s sealed.
When the force holding me lets go, I stumble in the blood and crash down to the floor, soaking myself in it. I let out a giddy giggle and roll in it just to rile them up more.
“Ronit,” Canto says in a strained voice.
“Give me one reason why I shouldn’t kill you right here, devious Strega,” Ronit hisses, and I feel a sharp edge of something press against my skin.
“Strega?” I have missed the way he says that word. Sharp, pointed, like a declaration of war, like I disgust him. Well, the feeling is mutual.
I shove the word away, focused more intently on the sharp metal pressed to my throat. It’s times like this I wish I still had my sight. I want to see his expression; does he hunger for my blood? Does the need to slay me turn his expression into that of a hungry dog?
Is there any kindness or just a flicker of regret?
“I saved you,” I whisper and push against the blade. It pricks my skin, breaking it, and my blood rolls out of my body and joins that of the monster on the floor. “You owe me.”
The laughter comes from beside me, light and lyrical. Lirin. My ears strain to hear every sound like he’s the food I’ve been starving for.
“We owe you nothing,” Brio says harshly.
“I am in your house, saving you from beasties while you sleep; surely, that affords me some goodwill.”
“We don’t negotiate with monsters,” Reed hisses.
“We made a deal in front of Becky,” Lirin reminds them.
A flash of memories hit me. The way the sand felt, his dying heart beating under my hands, struggling to survive. His long and nimble fingers pressing fruit to my lips. I shove it all aside, hating myself for remembering.
Their angry auras spike and shift around me, and I pick out the delicious scents I have come to loathe.
Each one of these sirens smells like the ocean but with a subtle difference, a baseline of something else.
For Lirin, it is the sweet scent of dragon fruit.
We had a tree that used to grow in Nightmare; my mother taught me about it.
I would always recognise that scent; to me, it’s home.
I’m pulled up, straight into the cloud of hibiscus.
When I came to this place, I had followed that scent, drawn to it because of him.
An old lady had given me a flower. I’d run my fingers over it and brought it to my nose.
She called it hibiscus and said that it meant fleeting beauty, resilience, and life’s impermanence.
Then her husband tried to skewer me with a blade.
Reed. So strong, so angry. He is my hibiscus flower.
“How did you get in?” Reed growls in my face. He gives me a shake, just once, enough to rattle my teeth. My irritation returns with a vengeance.
I hum, but a sharp jab to the throat has me choking on air. I wheeze through the pain, struggling to draw in air.
“What was that for?” I protest with a whine. Stupid Sirens, they lash out when they shouldn’t and completely miss what they should.
“No spells, Strega,” Brio snarls.
I almost tell him the truth, that I can’t sing spells, but that seems like a dumb way to die, so I clamp the truth behind my teeth and force one of the smiles that terrified the humans.
“She’s lost weight,” Canto murmurs. He moves closer, and I feel like I should edge back into the wall.
Canto and Ronit are the two who are born weapons.
But where Ronit’s dominance and leadership is given a role to play to, Canto has his all suppressed.
He’s like a box packed too tight; he’s going to explode one of these days, and blood will rain down.
His coconut scent is deceptively calming, and I wonder how many people can’t see the true heart of this warrior.
He’s as much a monster as I am. Maybe more.
“Strega!”
Fingers snap in front of my face, and I cock my head, waiting to see who will talk, who is summoning me.
Acacia. We have forests of acacia trees at home. Their long thorns make it deadly to wander into their densely packed spaces, but if you are careful, the acacia can save you. I don’t think Brio will save me, even if he does smell like them.
I reach out, and my hand collides with a massive wall of Siren chest. Without needing to be told, I know it’s Ronit, and I shiver a little. His scent hits the hardest but is often the most difficult to detect. Ronit smells like lightning hitting the ocean.
He is wild and powerful, and all things that I have learned to hate.
I withdraw my hand slowly.
“Found it,” Canto shouts from the back of the house. When did he even disappear? I need to keep an eye on him. I snigger at my internal joke.