Hunting the Siren

by J. E. Taylor

  I put up two fingers to indicate her second choice.

  “Shoulder blade, it is,” she said.

  I smiled turning back with a nod.

  “That will be two hundred dollars, please.”

  I pulled the cash out from my wallet and handed it over.

  The receptionist smiled and waved to the couch. “Tim will be out in a moment. He is just finishing up with a client. Please have a seat.”

  I signed, thank you.

  She signed back, you’re welcome, before she disappeared into the back with my drawing.

  I turned my attention to the various tattoo choices mounted on the walls.

  The man that appeared with my paper in his hand was built solid and loomed tall from my perch in the chair. His expression was serious as he studied the piece of paper in his hand, but the moment he looked up, his face broke out in a friendly smile that put me at ease.

  “Jules tells me you want this on your shoulder blade?” He turned the picture around.

  I nodded.

  “I’m Tim, but everyone here calls me Lil’ Mex.” He extended his hand.

  I stood, shaking it. As soon as our hands parted, I signed my name.

  Lil’ Mex turned to his receptionist who took her seat at the counter.

  “She said her name is Kylee.”

  “You read lips, Kylee?” he asked when he turned back to me.

  I shook my head and pointed to my ears before I gave a thumbs-up. Then I touched my throat with a shake of my head.

  A crease appeared between his eyes. “You can hear, but you can’t talk?”

  I gave him another thumbs-up with a smile.

  “Have you ever had a tattoo?”

  I signed no and shook my head.

  “Okay,” he said and nodded for me to follow him.

  I stepped into a small hallway that led to an immaculate room with three chairs and a table. flat. The table reminded me of the physical therapy tables that Alex had to use when he hurt his back. A sterile scent hung on the air and Lil’ Mex pointed me to one of the low back chairs while he took a seat on the other side of the room with my picture.

  He traced it out on paper and then showed his drawing to me. He had captured the sigil perfectly, so I gave him a thumbs-up. I peeled off my work shirt as he crossed and sat down, spinning the chair so my back faced him.

  Lil’ Mex cleaned the spot on my shoulder blade and then pressed the paper he used to draw the sigil onto the same spot. He waited a minute and then peeled the paper away.

  “Let’s make sure this is on where you’d like it.” He waved for me to follow him to the mirrored wall and handed me a mirror.

  I looked at the reflection of the outline on my shoulder blade, then handed him the mirror and smiled. Perfect, I signed.

  He gave me a nod and led me back to the chair. As soon as I settled in, he pressed the ink gun to my back. The low hum of the tool filled my senses, as did the sensation of being scratched. Seconds later, the hum stopped.

  “How does that feel?” Lil’ Mex asked.

  I gave him a thumbs-up. Even if it had been like someone tearing my skin off with a blow torch, I would have given the thumbs-up. I needed the sigil permanent. It would keep my location a secret, and the one I drew on my arm was just about gone.

  Lil’ Mex hummed along with the song piped into the studio as he crafted my tattoo. Occasionally, he wiped my back and went back to finishing my ink.

  My stomach growled loud enough for Lil’ Mex to pause.

  I’m okay, I signed with my left hand.

  He nodded and went back to work. The hum of the needle stopped again, and he wiped my back with a satisfied nod. “Take a look,” he said and handed me the mirror again.

  I stepped in front of the wall mirror, turning my back to it, and lifted up the hand held one. I studied the design with a critical eye, making sure each and every dot and symbol was placed just so. If even one squiggle or dot was misplaced, the tattoo wouldn’t protect me at all.

  That looks really good, Alex whispered in my head. Damn sexy.

  Heat filled my cheeks, and I moved my gaze from my back to my own eyes where Alex hid. Shush. I couldn’t have him talking to me about things that were sexy. It just slammed home my loss all the more.

  Satisfied with Lil’ Mex’s craftsmanship, I lowered the mirror and gave him a smile and nod. He waved me back to the seat where he proceeded to clean off the tattoo and cover it with plastic.

  He pulled off his gloves and turned the chair towards me. “Since it’s already dinner time, I’d suggest you keep that film on until morning. Then wash with soap and water and apply moisturizing cream to the area at least twice a day.” He stepped to the desk and pulled a sheet of paper. “You can get specific washes and creams here if you’d like, or go to the local drug store. Just don’t get anything with fragrances, and I’d suggest an antibiotic cream for tomorrow and the day after if you don’t buy the brands we offer here.”

  He handed me the sheet which held the specific after-care instructions along with the brands of creams and body washes that they recommended using. I read through the instructions while I pulled the work shirt back over my shoulders.

  My stomach growled again, enough to bring heat to my cheeks and a smile to Lil’ Mex’s face.

  “If you have any questions, feel free to stop back in or you can text us any time.”

  Thank you, I signed and wandered to the front desk where they had after-care products for sale. I purchased the ultimate tattoo care box and headed out the door with my instructions and after-care kit in a bag.

  The diner beckoned me, and I crossed the parking lot directly to the little food shop before my stomach rumbling turned sour. Once seated, my gaze kept drifting from the menu in my hand to the rotating dessert display. Specifically, the chocolate cake. Every time that sucker came around, it was like a magnet for my eyes.

  I sighed and forced myself to pick something. I didn’t want steak or chicken or fish. I didn’t want salad. All I seemed to want was the entire chocolate cake in the display case.

  The waitress came to the table with her pad in hand. Her dark hair was piled on her head in a messy up-do, and it bobbed as she stood waiting for me to make a decision.

  “Do you need more time?” she asked.

  I scanned the menu again, and when my gaze fell on the all-day breakfast menu, my stomach made a growling noise that would have put a rabid dog to shame. I tuned the menu towards her and tapped the Eggs Benedict Hearty Breakfast which included hash browns along with the main course.

  “Eggs Benedict. Will that be all?”

  I put up two fingers.

  “Two servings?” she asked with her eyebrows arched.

  I nodded and then tapped the orange juice.

  “Two?”

  I shook my head and put up a single finger. And water, I signed.

  She stared at my hands and then looked at me. “I’m sorry, sweetie, I don’t read sign language.”

  I made the motion for the pen and paper, and she handed me the order slip and her pen. I wrote ice water on her sheet and handed both the pad and pen back to her.

  She smiled. “Coming right up.”

  My gaze kept traveling to the chocolate cake, and every time, my mouth watered. I tried focusing elsewhere, but it was no use. By the time the waitress came with my food, I was ready to break through the glass and shove the cake into my mouth, manners be damned.

  The moment she put the eggs in front of me, my rumbling stomach set me into action. I must have made a spectacle of myself, because when I looked up from my nearly empty plates, a few of the patrons near my table were staring at me.

  Heat filled my entire face, and I shrugged and made the motion of a pregnant belly. A few of them smiled and turned their attention away, but one teenager kept staring at me in a way that made me shift in my seat.

  The waitress stepped into my line of sight with a smile. “How was it?” she asked as she picked up my plate.

&n
bsp; I gave her a smile. My stomach was sated for the time being, but I still craved that damn chocolate cake.

  “Is there anything else I can get you?”

  “I pointed to the cake as it passed on the rotating shelf.”

  “Chocolate cake?” she asked.

  I gave her a thumbs-up.

  “With a scoop of vanilla ice cream?”

  I licked my lips and nodded.

  She cleared the plates and the kid that had been staring at me was gone. The waitress cut a piece of cake and scooped a generous amount of ice cream on top. The drizzle of chocolate sauce over the ice cream secured her a hefty tip. My mouth watered as she crossed the diner with the cake in one hand and a water pitcher in the other.

  The first bite transcended me to heaven, and a hum started in the back of my throat. I swallowed hard, shutting the purr down. As much as my siren wanted to sing the praises of this dessert, the last thing I wanted to do was infect these people, even though the cake was as close to orgasmic as I was ever going to get again.

  You’ll find someone else.

  Alex’s voice invaded my bliss, turning my meal sour. I stared at the half-eaten cake and my throat tightened. My appetite vanished along with my dry eyes. Mist blurred my vision. I took a deep inhalation before slowly letting it out.

  His words were not welcomed.

  I wasn’t ever going to let anyone as close to my heart as I had let Alex get.

  My hand dropped to my belly, and a chill gripped me. I knew my thoughts were a lie. I already had a life that I cared about beyond my own, and I would do whatever was necessary to keep our child safe.

  Chapter 4

  An itch on my shoulder pulled me from a sound sleep. I reached back, and my fingers skimmed over plastic. My eyes popped open, and I glanced around, momentarily disoriented and reaching for Alex.

  The empty bed met my hand. The dream of being with him seemed so real. Aching loss gripped my chest, and I closed my eyes, wishing for the dream instead of this vast emptiness in my soul.

  Getting my bearings, I sat up and looked at the dresser across the room. My backpack sat unopened since I packed the wedding album and my cash into it outside of the hotel last night. For some reason that seemed more pragmatic than leaving it in the car like I had done down in Phoenix.

  The tattoo kit sat on top of the backpack just waiting for me to open it. My overnight bag was less compact. It sat open with my clothing in a chaotic jumble. I had done nothing to neaten it since I showered last night. My gaze landed on the last gallon jug of seawater. I bit my lip. The skin cracked, and I licked blood from the split wondering just what the hell I was going to do when I ran out of seawater.

  My deterioration without the elixir seemed to be on overdrive, and I only had the big cooler of saltwater left in the back seat of my car.

  A shiver skipped up my spine, and I trembled with the force of it. Kicking off the sheets, I avoided the mirrors and chose to focus on a hot shower and taking care of my tattoo before I embarked on absorbing the gallon of seawater in the room.

  Once I finished doing as the instructions stated, I toweled off and jammed the plug into the drain. Instead of pouring the gallon over my head like I had done the previous night, I drizzled it down the front of my body, careful to avoid my tattooed shoulder. I wasn’t sure how the tattoo would react to the salt, and I didn’t want to ruin my illusion of safety.

  The salt water never even hit the floor of the tub. It absorbed on contact, and the effects were immediate. I swore I could feel my cells expand, hydrated and happy. My stomach growled and I sighed. I needed to get on the road, but all I craved were those damned eggs Benedict, which was not a quick drive-through meal.

  I rubbed my belly. Today, you’ll just have to settle for an egg on a muffin or something because we need to get to the ocean. An ungodly rumble was my jilted stomach’s answer, but I had to get moving if I had a prayer of reaching Missouri by nightfall.

  I grabbed a quick breakfast and topped my car off at a roadside gas and donut shop. The roads wound higher into the hills, and mountains surrounded the road, daunting at times and offering wide vistas at other times. It was grand and beautiful in the same way the Painted Desert had been.

  I was so consumed with the scenery and focusing on staying on the winding roads that I hadn’t touched either the snacks or drinks piled around my backpack on the front seat. Entering Vale was like entering something out of a fairy tale with the amounts of green surrounding me. The river that paralleled the highway drew my attention and I sighed. I wish fresh water had the same effect on me that the ocean did. I could gladly get lost in this lush land.

  As soon as I passed through Denver, my ears popped as the elevation changed as dramatically as the landscape. The flat lands lay before me. I ended up stopping in Watkins to fill up and grab a bite to eat. My lips were already dry, and one glance at my reflection was enough for me to scoop a cupful of water from the cooler in the back seat and stick my finger in it.

  The water disappeared almost as fast as it had this morning. I glanced in the mirror, and the creases around my eyes filled in with plump and hydrated skin.

  With my appearance more normal, I stepped out of the car and headed into the little diner for my lunch. As I sat down, I scanned the restaurant out of habit. My gaze landed on a familiar face and I shivered. The teen who had been staring at me in Grand Junction sat at the counter. His eyes were on my reflection in the mirror behind the counter.

  I went to stand, and the world tilted. I sat back down, hard. My stomach cramped, and I nearly doubled over from the muscle spasm. The child inside me demanded food, so whether the kid was following me or not, I couldn’t leave without following the demands of my body.

  “Are you okay?”

  I glanced up at the young waitress staring down at me, and I forced myself to straighten. I nodded and pointed to the menu item.

  “Eggs Benedict?” she asked.

  I confirmed with a nod and the sign for yes then tapped orange juice on the menu.

  “Orange juice,” she said. “Can I get you any coffee?”

  I shook my head. I didn’t need caffeine. Not at this point anyway. I still had five hours or so before I got to see the big ball of twine and then another three or four hours after that to cross over the state line into Missouri.

  The waitress smiled and turned, her blonde ponytail whipping around with her.

  The teenager was no longer at the counter. My gaze darted around and then out at the parking lot. There was no sign of the stranger. However, the feeling of being watched still clung to me. Unease filtered into my bones right beside the gnawing hunger in my belly.

  Watching the parking lot, I let my mind wander, trying to pinpoint the moment I got pregnant. It couldn’t have been in Las Vegas. That would have been way too soon.

  I think it was the night on the beach.

  Alex’s voice filled my head. I smiled at the memory. It had been late, and we had been out watching the sunset, drinking wine. Lots of wine. The night was a blur of discarded clothing and laughter as we dared to make love out in the open, wondering if someone was going to stumble upon us. We had moved from the beach to the shower and then to the bed until we exhausted ourselves.

  My smile faded, and the pang of loss squeezed my heart.

  I will miss that, too, Alex whispered.

  He didn’t know the half of it. He was the only man who I gave everything to. Sure, I had been married and thought I had been in love before, but all the other relationships I attempted paled in comparison to the connection I had with Alex. I tried to ignore it for years, but every time he came and sat down next to me on the beach, it was as if the other piece of my soul had arrived. I’m not sure he understood how frightening that was for me and how much of a loss his death was.

  I know. I am part of you now, so I exist inside your pain.

  “Here you go,” the waitress said, startling me out of my thoughts. She placed both my meal and my orange juice on the ta
ble. “If you need anything else, just give me a shout.”

  I gave her a tight smile, and she bounced away to take the next table’s order. I forced the food down my throat despite the complete lack of appetite that missing Alex brought on. If I skipped the meal, I would pay dearly for it later, and I couldn’t stop every five minutes to throw up, although I wasn’t sure food was the answer to that dilemma.

  I waved for the check as I downed the last of the orange juice. I covered my meal and a decent tip and headed to the car, hyperaware of my surroundings. Despite the lingering feeling of being watched, I focused on my tattoo maintenance, rubbing the lotion into the back of my shoulder before I continued my cross-country trek.

  I pulled out on I-70 eastbound and scanned the radio stations, settling on one that boasted current country hits. God bless him, Alex sang along in my head, his endearing off-tune timbre tickled me enough so I wanted to join him. But I knew better, even on this nearly empty straightaway. My siren voice could create a toxic poison, so I settled for just tapping my foot in rhythm.

  When I pulled off I-70 and headed towards Cawker City, Alex chuckled.

  What?

  Really? You are going to see the biggest ball of twine?

  I smiled and glanced in the rearview mirror, meeting my own gaze. The one Alex shared with me. It had been his joke, and I thought it would please him to follow through on it now that I’d subjected myself to a long, landlocked trip.

  His laughter filled my ears. It was filled with the same type joy found in a child, and it sent a thrill through me. While I could never cuddle in his arms again, still being able to hear his laughter helped ease my pain.

  He was the only damned soul that communicated directly with me. All of the others faded to nothing when they died. Sure I felt their energy, but it joined with mine, making me stronger and more resilient. Alex was different. I had lured him with my siren to save him from the bicorn. It was the only way, and it killed a part of me. If the bicorn hadn’t killed him, I would have had to do it. Maybe not initially, but eventually as the madness overtook him.