Chapter 5
Reed
Iglower at the witch, who just smiles widely as if she knows I’m watching her.
She can’t see a damn thing; her eyes are gone.
But it feels like she can. That filthy bandage of what used to be white material is wrapped tight, hiding the hideous injury.
It just reminds me that she thinks she’s untouchable.
And her scent, that’s what’s really driving me crazy.
Wild blackberries, earthy, sweet, a little tart.
The blackberry bush is as thorny as she is.
Why have I never smelled it on her before?
And how did I miss it invading the house?
I should rip it out by the roots and drown it in salt.
Fuck it, I storm across the room and yank her to me, looping coarse rope around her torso.
“Is this really necessary?” Becky snarls, her arms fold over her chest; the abnormally pale Fae Prince glares at us from nearby. We come from different worlds, but we were old Sirens long before he was born. We are myths and legends, one he has no respect for.
“We gave her space, and she disappeared for three months. Even your pack,” I snarl the word, “couldn’t find her.”
Becky presses her lips together, ignoring the accusation.
Our Strega won’t talk to Becky, no, instead, she focuses all that vile wickedness aimed at us. I can almost feel her animosity pressing against my skin. I fight the urge to snarl into her face, refusing to lower myself to her level.
Ronit, Canto, and Lirin are outside, trying to wrangle our pet back under control. I’m not sure if they are succeeding or not, but it doesn’t matter; I need to focus on the problem in here.
The Strega.
I wrap three more loops of rope around the witch and glare at her, daring her to use her vile tricks to escape, when she doesn’t protest, I cautiously step back.
She’s bound from her knees to her throat with thick, coarse rope from a ship that crashed onto the beach two months ago.
Right, this might be able to keep her here. Maybe.
“I, for one, am amused.”
I turn and glare at the demon lying on my couch.
His waist-length, long black hair fans out around him.
His skin, which is normally red, is a healthy bronze human colour, but his eyes don’t look normal.
No, those eyes are red and mark him for the demon he is.
His human mate is standing in the doorway, light brown hair floating in the wind, looking out at the beach, watching that asshole playing in the surf.
“Are you?” I ask sweetly. “I’m so glad I could be of service to you, Demon.”
He smiles widely. “Appreciate it, mate.”
Mate? What is that accent? It’s foul. I bare my teeth, my temper set to explode.
Becky groans. “Don’t tell me you’ve been watching Australian television.”
“Crikey, that’s a big one,” Diablos says in what has to be the worst accent of any species in all time across every world. The demon waggles his eyebrows and strokes an imaginary mustache with black-tipped talons.
“Why are you all still here?” I snap. “Fuck off already.”
“Because,” Becky snarls, redirecting her anger right back at me, “you stole my Grim.”
“We didn’t steal anything,” I say hotly. “She did. But you have him back, so go!”
“Reed,” Brio warns. He is always the voice of reason and moderation, reining in my temper and helping me find control when I can’t.
I tilt my head back and breathe deeply, but it doesn’t help anything. There are people in our space, and I miss the oceans. Our oceans. This earth ocean is dead, the songs and life that used to live in it are hushed, dying, fading. It feels empty. I just…miss home, and I shouldn’t.
It’s a secret not even my shiver knows. I’m not supposed to like being a Siren. I’m supposed to be trying to get free of this curse.
But when I look at the witch, it feels like she knows. Like she might tell them that I don’t want to go back to our Fae lands, that I don’t want to walk on land anywhere, and I hate her all the more because of it.
I shudder and tear my eyes away from her smile.
“What name are you going by these days?” Brio murmurs. His voice is lyrical and so beautiful to hear. Brio was the true musician, becoming a Siren just made him that much more.
She turns her head towards him. She’s tall but fine boned, like she never gets enough to eat.
Her movements are jerky, almost birdlike.
Her skin is golden brown, and her hair is all different shades of pale gold, but it's messy and matted at the moment and appears dark brown. She’s covered in blood, but it doesn’t bother her, and I think she was wearing a T-shirt at one stage, but it's no more than rags that wrap around her, revealing almost as much as they conceal.
Everything about her says feral. Untouchable. Beautiful. Wait, what? Not beautiful. At all.
“Mei.”
It takes me a moment to realise she’s answered Brio.
“Your name is Mei? You have an actual name? I thought that was just an attempt to get close to us,” I ask in disbelief.
Puppy growls down from the wall, his spines rattling. “We have names. We choose them.”
“My mother gave it to me,” Mei interrupts with an anger that surprises me.
I hate her name, I hate her face. I want her gone.
She had a mother. Why does that humanize her?
She lifts her chin as if she can hear all my hate-spewed thoughts.
“You had a mother?” I say in a venom soaked voice.
Puppy, Stix, and Becky snarl at me, but I ignore them, focused instead on the monster tied up in front of me. Someone gave birth to this creature. I try to force the mean thoughts, try to drown out the image of a tiny Mei clinging to a woman, desperately trying to stay alive.
Mei just smiles wider.
Ronit stalks in, his long red hair is soaking, as are his clothes, and he looks like he’s ready to tear someone’s head off. Lirin and Canto look just as frustrated.
“Ah, the twins are here. I’ve been meaning to ask you-”
“We aren’t twins,” Canto says evenly, cutting Diablos off.
Whereas Lirin keeps his hair longer at his nape, his eyes are more exotic shaped and are more green than blue. His lips are full, and of all of us, he is the prettiest. Canto is a more boyish version, but his eyes carry death. Canto and Lirin look similar, but they aren’t twins.
“None of us are related,” Ronit growls out. “The curse turned our hair red when it gave us fins. People see red and assume we’re blood relations. I never knew them before the curse, we came from five different walks of life. We just don’t correct people because it’s none of your fucking business.”
“Uh-huh,” Diablos says, and I can see him doing the math.
Ronit pulls on a rope, straining. He’s massive, packed with muscle that's unusual for a Fae. His light gold eyes freak people out, as does the scar through his eyebrow and his deadly aura.
Mei turns her head, her smile slips away. “What is that?”
Ronit snarls. “Brio, help me!”
Brio rushes to Ronit’s side and grabs the rope, pulling and dragging.
They heave and fight, their muscles popping, and gradually gain ground.
Brio and Ronit look similar in colouring and hair, but where Ronit is hard, Brio is softer.
His body, his life was made to create art, not kill; even his dark gold eyes draw people in.
We’re all a bit more protective of him than we probably should be.
“You are not bringing it into the house, are you?” I snarl.
A moment later, a human shape crashes onto the floor in front of Diablos.
He looks up through a curtain of teal, black, and white hair, his face barely resembling human.
The sharp angles and those maelstrom eyes are ancient, and no one looking at him could pretend he is anything but what he is: a monster.
“Who is that?” Diablos asks, sitting up and leaning forward to get a better look.
“This is our pet,” Ronit says.
“Pet?” Becky asks with a hint of rage. She moves towards Ronit, but is cut off by Puppy, who hisses at us.
Our pet lifts his head and focuses unnaturally teal eyes on Becky. But she doesn’t interest him. He turns his head, searching and searching, until he stops, staring at the witch.
Oh, fuck no.
There’s this moment of irrational panic, like my instincts sense something, but it’s gone before I can grab it. He wants her. To kill or eat, I’m not sure.
“This is Leviathan,” Lirin says with a soft chuckle, introducing them.
She is fixated on our beastie as well, and for some reason, that irritates me.
“Leviath-an?” Hartley says with a gulp. “As in the?”
The asshole continues to stare at the witch as if he’s convinced if he looks away she will vanish. That unease returns, and I almost protest.
“No fish,” Puppy snarls.
Leviathan staggers up to his seven-foot height. He stumbles towards Puppy and opens his mouth. To my utter shock, the asshole vomits a torrent of seawater on the Grim.
I jump back, hissing, while Puppy goes insane. Only the quick thinking of Wilder and Frost yanking him back stops a continent-breaking war from beginning.
“What the hell!” Becky hisses. “Excuse me, Mr Leviathan?”
He doesn’t answer her. No, he’s sizing them up, as if they are the danger here, when it’s us who have him bound in ropes.
Mei lets out a small sound, and with an explosiveness none of us can match, Leviathan is free of his ropes, frees Mei of her ropes, and is coiled around her in dragon form.
It just so happens his coils take up most of the room, so I find myself shoved face first into the glass window. It’s cracks, and I think perhaps my nose is broken.
“I’m going to kill him this time!” Ronit growls and fights his way through the teal, black, and silver coils, disappearing from view.
I rub the bridge of my nose as his coils recede.
Becky makes a humming sound, but I think she’s got no idea what to do with the six of us. No, make that seven, including our prisoner.
“Diablos, I really feel this is a you problem.” She brushes her brown hair back and purses her lips. “This is out of my jurisdiction.”