Spine straightening, I squared my shoulders. “You’re absolutely right. I’m not one of you. That’s why it has to be me. I know next to nothing about siren politics. That said, I’m guessing they would frown on you challenging the next in line for the mantel as leader. Species aside, mutiny of any kind isn’t usually well received. But if I do it—as some random outsider—and succeed, you would take the rightful position that you were robbed of during the uprising.”
Hope buzzed through the room in the form of giddy whispers behind hands.
Feigning confidence, I looped my thumbs in the belt loops of my jeans, and lifted my chin with a cocky tilt. “You want to go back to the time when death wasn’t necessary, and the relationship between a siren and human was a thing of beauty? I make it out of this alive, and that’s your future to build. I don’t, and I’ll be nothing but a cautionary tale to halflings. What do you have to lose?”
Stepping forward, Eldoris caught my forearm with her palm in a gesture of solidarity. “A friend.”
Locking my arm with hers, I gave a brief squeeze of comfort. “Take the girls, and go. Either way, they’re safer in your care.”
Chapter Ten
“Ba-dah-dah-dah-dum,” I sang to the tune of Cryin’ by Aerosmith. The thick tread of my motorcycle boots sank into the grass as I marched across the troop’s campsite with my head held high. Stomach a knot of nerves, I tried to distract myself with my own little remix of the classic. “There was a time when my head wasn’t up my ass. I wasn’t strolling straight for this death of mine. But things have changed, this bitch stole my pig. Which really sucks, ‘cause she’s the killin’ kind.”
Hey, not the best means of distraction.
Coming to a halt outside the trailer where Arroyo was supposedly napping, I filled my lungs to capacity and cast one final glance around at the buzzing campground. While the girls were gone, the roadies were setting up as they would any other night. Was I looking for help in my upcoming battle with a supernatural beastie? Nope. Someone to talk me out of this idiotic plan? Maybe a little. Mostly, I was hoping some sort of formidable weapon would magically appear. I was very aware I didn’t have my swords, and was really missing them. I might not have been a professional swordsperson, but I understood the concept of jabbing enemies with poking things. It was a luxury a very much missed while I stood there empty handed.
One final cleansing breath, and I flicked my hair from my eyes and rapped my fist against the door. Because that’s how all epic battles start—a polite knock.
Goddess help me, I suck at this.
I won’t lie. Part of me hoped she wouldn’t answer. Sorry, Eldoris, I couldn’t stage the uprising like we planned. Turns out Arroyo is just a really sound sleeper.
Unfortunately, the door swung open. Clad in the kind of long, silk nightgown you would expected to see in an old black and white movie, Arroyo shoved one hand onto her cocked hip, her lips curling into a vindictive smirk. “Octavia, what a pleasant surprise. Did you come here to pay tribute to a pure blood? It is customary for halflings to present offerings of subjection. But then, I guess you’ve already given me that gift.” Opening the door a little wider, she gave me a glimpse of the metal crate behind where she held Bacon captive. Laying down with his head on her front hooves, he looked more sad and dejected than I had ever seen my poor little porker, and considering he was dead when I found him that was saying a lot.
Just like that, any hesitation I had about the fight ahead vanished, replaced by the burning longing for some good, old fashion vengeance.
“I came to make sure you’re treating my boy right,” I forced the words through clenched teeth, daggers of hatred stabbing from my stare.
“Ugh,” she groaned. Rolling her eyes, she turned on the ball of her foot and stalked to the leather couch where she collapsed onto it with full diva dramatic flare. “Your human side is showing. That kind is so frightfully moronic when it comes to attachments to lesser creatures.” A thought occurring to her, her head perked. “Wait, I heard you tried to escape. Please tell me you didn’t come back just for some filthy swine. Even you can’t be that pathetic.”
Taking the two steps up into luxurious travel trailer digs, I pulled the door shut behind me. “Much as I love my boy, I came back … for you.”
“Thanks for uncovering your heritage isn’t necessary,” she dismissively stated, while admiring her silver painted nails. “I would have been equally as happy to watch you drown, arms flapping around like a sea anemone.”
“It’s just that easy for you, isn’t it?” Even as I posed the question, I plugged into the current of my power, letting it ripple through me in delicious waves. “Tell me, how much blood is on your hands? How many lives would you say you’ve taken? Ballpark figure, of course.”
She batted my words away with a roll of her wrist. “How many steaks have you eaten? Can you put a number on those disgusting little chicken nugget things you humans love to consume? Who bothers to think of such things?”
“See, but here’s the thing. I don’t think it’s about the meal for you. Not all the time. Sometimes—like with my buddy Squid-face—it was just about the thrill of the kill.” Jolts of emerald energy crackled over my skin, sizzling through the air in a beacon to the lost.
On her feet in a blink, Arroyo’s eyes narrowed to deadly slits. “Stupid girl. Do you dare challenge me?” Arms akimbo at her sides, she stretched out her fingertips. That simple gesture made the water pipes of the trailer rattle. The kitchen faucet flew off its pedestal with a watery spray that gushed to the ceiling in a geyser.
“Me?” Eyes widening, I blinked her way with mock innocence. “I would never dream of challenging you. Then again, this isn’t about me.”
While I had never done this before, I acted with a natural ease, throwing my arms out wide to feel the space with the cresting current of my influence. Many eagerly answered the call; the laundry list of her kills materializing in ghostly green wisps. Bacon saw Squid-face before I did, and hopped to his feet with his curly-tail wagging the instant he made out the silhouette of his friend. A fist of sorrow squeezed my heart tight as I offered a nod of greeting to my big, lumbering dearly-departed friend. That would be all the time I had for a greeting.
Calling the water to her, Arroyo manipulated it into a lasso that encircled my neck choking off even a whisper of air.
But I wasn’t alone, and her countless victims—that filled every available inch of space—refused to stand by idyll while she took another life. Squid-face was the first to leap for me, my body convulsing as his energy entered me. The rest eagerly followed suit, slamming into me in bone-crushing shudders.
My hair whipped and snapped around me like living flames, the power coursing through me floating me from the ground. A flick of two fingers broke her hold on me, a second subtle hook of my middle finger throwing her back and pinning her against the wall. “We are one,” the thunderous chorus of voices, silenced before their times, rumbled from my chest, “a force of power you couldn’t begin to comprehend.”
A humorless laugh shook Arroyo’s shoulder, her grin widening with malicious glee. “You armed yourself with the dead? Foolish girl. Natural selection claimed them once. What good are they as useless haunts?”
“We are the possibility of what could have been. The blaze of life viciously snuffed out. And the vengeance that you will never harm another again.” While it was my lips moving to deliver the threat, the message came from the countless masses she had hurt for her selfish desires.
Pressing against the mystical hold pinning her to the wall, Arroyo leaned against it as far as she could. “Your power is impotent by the laws of the corporeal. When I get out of this, you can all watch me rip the heart from the chest of this simple girl you thought would be your salvation.”
My head cocked with a will not my own. “There will be no escape for you. Not this time. Today, Arroyo of the Emerald Sea Clan, you will pay for your sins.”
I didn’t know where my swords we
re, hadn’t spotted them since I stepped inside. But a gust of wind twirled around me, blowing my hair back like claws of flame, and there they were. Held by brilliant jade tendrils of magic, poised and ready. The points of the blades crossed in front of me, their power brought forth by the incantation those inhabiting my vessel plucked from my memories. “Spirit from beyond the grave, I brought thee into light. With your help, I cannot stave. Return thee into night.”
A rush of heat flooded the room as the swords were set afire with the blaze of my magic. Heart pounding against my rib cage, I could feel the spirits intentions and found against it. It was one thing for me to talk big and say I was going to take a life, actually doing the deed was another matter altogether. As a necromancer I had a special relationship with Death. I saw the pain left in its wake, but respected it as a necessary one. Experience had taught time again that resurrection tore the scab off the wound of mourning, causing more pain in the long run.
Yet, that’s exactly what I hoped to do with Elba …
There was no time to uncap that particular can of worms as I watched my fingers curl around the hilts of my swords. I wanted Arroyo banished, exiled, locked away for all eternity in that same loch she imprisoned me in. But I had never taken a life I hadn’t gifted with a second chance beforehand. How did it make me any better than the killer before me with silver sparks of challenge brightening her stare like the edge of a razor.
Sensing my hesitation, Arroyo dragged her tongue of her top teeth. “Go ahead. It’s justified isn’t it? I killed your friend, and imprisoned your little pet. Strike true, child. Embrace what you are; a siren that craves the thrill of the hunt … just like me.”
Channeling every ounce of strength within me, I gripped my swords tight and threw myself back against the forces lassoing me. Breaking free from their hold, I stumbled back to regain my footing. Panting to catch my breath, I glanced up from under my brow and my jaw fell slack. Fueled by my magic, the entities still held her in place as their sea of faces glanced my way with compassionate understanding. Once more it was Squid-face that led the charge, kicking up a current of swirling and roiling spirits. Taking the form of comet-like orbs, they kicked up tornadic gusts that overturned furniture and tore the blinds from the windows. As they passed, they slammed into Arroyo from all sides. I didn’t understand it, but I could see her aura and the holes they were punching in it with each blindsided strike. Her body hurled in one direction, lurched in another, folded in half, bolted upright. Little by little, they claimed pieces of her as trophies, same as she had done to them.
By the time they were done, nothing remained but a hunk of tattered fabric from her nightgown. Poetic justice served by those she hurt the most.
Arms falling slack to my sides, I tried to steady my breathing as I stared down at that lone square of snow white fabric. “That’s what you get for touching my pig, bitch,” I mumbled with a giggle that boarded on manic.
Swords slipping from my fingers in loud clangs of metal, I skidded to the side of Bacon’s cage and freed him from that metal prison. He scurried into my arms, nosing at my face with frantic relief that matched my own. Tears slipped from my lashes, my shoulders shaking with sobs that were equal parts relief and anguish.
Tearing my stare from my precious porker, I watched as one last orb of energy hovered in the air, beating with a pulse of warmth and peace. He no longer had a shape, but I knew it was Squid-face lingering longer than the others to make sure his friends were okay.
My breath caught in my throat, emotion cracking the words that planted a fresh bruise on my battered heart. “We’re okay. You made sure of that. You can go, my friend.”
The green of his energy brightened to brilliant white diamonds of light. A final flash, and he was gone.
Crumbling to the ground, I cradled Bacon in my lap and cried.
Chapter Eleven
“The pageant will not go on tonight, or any from here on out.” Standing before the crowd Eldoris looked every bit the royal she truly was. Her hair was piled on her head in a crown of tousled, her posture regal and commanding. The gown she wore was a brilliant shade of turquoise with a high neck and scattered jewels that looked like sunlight sparkling off a Caribbean sea. Enchanting as the garment was, I guessed it to be passed down from a member of her dearly departed family. No doubt they will smiling down with pride today. “We are packing up here and heading to the Emerald Coast. From there we will travel to uninhabited island in the south sea to reconvene with other siren troops. It seems word has spread that the rightful bloodline has been returned to power—in small part at least—and there has been an surge of those unhappy with the practices that have been taking place that want to join with us in molding the footprint for a better tomorrow. No longer will we go town to town with these pageants, circuses, burlesque shows, and the likes in search of men to feast upon in a meaningless exchange. Instead, our goal will be to return to a time and way of life when we nurtured our relationships with humans and treasured that bond for the love, nourishment, and beautiful halflings it gifted to us.” She looked to each of her girls with a maternal pride that warmed their faces and brought a rosy blush to their cheeks.
“So, no more starving to fit in dresses and Brazilian waxes?” Joan perked.
“Pulling up stakes will take a while yet,” Eldoris grinned. Hands clasped behind her back, she rocked from the balls of her feet to her heels and back again. “We’ll order a mountain of pizzas to celebrate. You can all eat your bodyweight in cheesy goodness without an ounce of harsh judgment or regret.”
“Wait! Does that also mean no more prescription strength deodorant, and uncomfortable odor eating shoe inserts?” Lip Injections bubbled with enthusiasm beside me.
A beat of silence, as the rest of the girls exchanged glances to each other in search of who was going to break it to her.
Clearing my throat, I elbowed her in the ribs. “Those things weren’t to attracted men. They were to prevent you from repelling any creature with a nose.” Holding on to Bacon’s front hooves, I bobbed them up and down in playful waves. Did I need to have him strapped to my chest right then? Nope. But after being ripped away from each other, we were both thrilled to be settling back into the comforts of togetherness. Not that I would tell him, but if he wanted to sleep at the head of the bed and fart on my pillows, I wouldn’t even complain. For a day or so. It’s farts were toxic.
“Oh… damn,” she muttered, shoulders sinking.
Sweet gal took it like a trooper, but I was prepared for it to go either way. Hence throwing myself under the bus of breaking it to her. The rest of them had to live with her. I was nothing but a blur of pink-hair and burning rubber… right after the pizza.
A tittered of laughter bubbled through the gathered crowd of roadies, guards, and sirens.
Lifting her chin with a tilt of her head, Eldoris pressed on with her tone equal parts respectful sorrow and hopefully optimism. “The loss of Bahari hurts us all. Our differences in opinion made us no less a family, and we will miss her as the strong matriarch she was. Yet out of the ashes of her death, we celebrate the future and were this journey will take us all. Those that worked for us on the road will be released with healthy compensation, and our utmost thanks. You’re all invited to join us in our feast, of course. No one leaves here tonight without a full belly and a happy heart.”
She glanced my way as she spoke those words, in a message of thanks that almost made it less of a shit show that I was abducted and dragged there against my will. Almost.
Turns out sirens are super weird about sleep where someone died. If they only knew someone has literally died on, like, every square inch of land everywhere. No joke. Where you’re sitting right now? At some point in history, someone died there. Trust me, I know.
In this case, that little bit of superstition they all shared scored me the big bus that Bahari, and Clayton had died in. Sure, the door had been kicked in, and the blood soaked carpets had to be torn up, but other than that the digs we
re pretty stellar for spending our last night with the scattering camp. Okay, stellar is a pretty generous word. But it had less bullet holes and roaches than the place I consider the absolute worst I’ve crashed at, so I was still going to count it as a win.
After enjoying a brief, and purely platonic, shower together—don’t judge—Bacon and I flopped down on the trailer’s leather couch to catch up on episodes of our latest Netflix obsession. No sooner did my boy flop down in my lap, then his snout twitched in a pitiful snort.
Lips sinking into a frown, I peered down at him with one raised brow. “I know we’ve been through some stuff, but don’t give me that. You are most definitely not hungry. Don’t pretend I didn’t watch you polish off an entire Hawaiian Deep-Dish. Which, by the way, was disturbing. There’s ham on that you adorable little cannibal.”
Tail wagging, his mouth fell open in a happy grin that I hoped wasn’t at munching on his brethren.
Slinging one arm over his back to draw him closer to my side, I grabbed the remote off the end table and clicked on the TV. Before the home screen could load, a knock shook the doorframe.
“Come in,” I shouted at the blanket Eldoris hung as my makeshift door.
Parting the fabric, the woman herself stepped up to join me in the living room. “I could never bring myself to wear my mother’s robe, but it looks nice on you.” Her chin lifted towards the cloud-soft fabric she’d loaned me. “Keep it if you like.”
Kicking my feet of the faux fur ottoman, I curled my legs under me. “I couldn’t take something you treasure. It was your mom’s, you need to hold onto it.”
Drop Dead Gorgeous (The Journals of Octavia Hollows #4) Page 6