“Louisa wouldn’t hesitate to do either. Does she know that Amy is a pivot?” Mira finally asked the question she had worried about since learning Atlantea was sending Devin with her.
“You know how close Atlantea keeps information, so I doubt it. Louisa doesn’t need these kinds of details to ready the armies. She only seems to complain about a pending conflict, but her eyes sparkle. She’s been preparing for the worst her entire life, and is thrilled to spend her final years burning out in a blaze of glory. The details of any prophesy would be wasted on Louisa.”
“It’s hard to serve two masters.”
“I have only ever served one. Can we be true allies now, Mira? Can you trust me that much?”
“I can’t focus on Atlantea’s needs or the Atlantic or the fae. I can only deal with my own crisis,” Mira cautioned.
“Right now, your crisis is the Atlantic’s crisis.”
“Monitoring Amy this closely is foolish. We’ll be too close to the pivot and any warmongering mage is going to make the wrong assumptions if they realize we’re sirens,” Mira doubted Devin would agree, but she had to try.
“You know Atlantea won’t accept anything less,” Devin replied gently. “She wants us with the pivot.”
“Devin, I have no idea how to get you closer to Amy.”
“It would be easier to protect you both if I were in the same room.” Devin shook his head. “I would have thought Amy, as a doctor at least, would have known you invented that story about hormonal deficiencies.”
“Maybe if Amy had studied endocrinology or something like that, she might have questioned it further. But when Mary went off the pill, she almost killed Cordelia. Amy had to literally pull her off. That incident wiped out whatever doubts the two of them might have had about our ‘family secret.’ Anyway, I thought you agreed that influencing Amy would be a mistake”
Devin sighed. “I also said it was tempting. At least Mary has accepted your presence. That will have to suffice for now. I can wait in the lobby at first; but you’ll have to find a way to get me closer soon. Things are moving too quickly.”
“Miss Santos, so nice to meet you,” Mary said. “Amy is resting. Come on in.”
Mary ushered Mira inside, shutting the door behind her. Mary was so much lovelier in person than Mira had imagined. It was the warmth in her expression, the sparkle in her eyes; attributes that simply didn’t come across in the photos Thomas had sent from Thanksgiving. Mira struggled to keep her voice even. “Please, call me Kiera,” she said. She was wearing a pair of purple scrubs she had bought at a local uniform supply store and thought the color helped age her.
Amy’s apartment was decorated in a modern style, but since it was in an older building, the combination of old world with the modern was actually rather appealing. Cordelia had said it seemed cold, and Mira supposed the lack of clutter might make it seem sterile to Cordelia, who favored a more lived-in kind of style.
“I’m Mary. I really appreciate you coming on such short notice. How’s Thomas? What a disaster! Do they know what happened yet?”
“I don’t know much — just that the investigation is ongoing.”
How easily she skirted the truth, Mira thought, disgusted with herself — and at the same time, oddly proud. Proud that she was having a calm conversation with Mary. Proud that she wasn’t crying or screaming. She really could do this.
Just before they left for Amy’s apartment, one of the guards had called Devin to tell him that Thomas had just arrived in Atlantis by boat, accompanied by a mage! At least Mira no longer had to wonder if he were hurt. But bringing a mage to Atlantis presented a whole different kind of risk. She wondered if she should call in a favor from Isioma or even Zale. Atlantea listened to Zale. Mira shook herself mentally; she needed to focus on Mary right now.
“Your aunt is Thomas’ business partner?” Mary asked. She seemed stiff. Mira wasn’t sure whether she felt anxious about meeting Kiera, or suspicious of her capabilities. After their lunch in Washington, Cordy had reported that Mary would be holding auditions soon; Mary must be torn between staying with Amy and getting back.
“She called to ask if I could help — and of course I said yes.”
“And you’re a nurse in New York City?” Mary asked, eying Mira’s scrubs.
“I’m a home health aide,” Mira said. “Not a nurse. But Devin is. Thomas asked us both to come—”
“No, no.” Mary said. “I don’t think a nurse is necessary. The written discharge instructions are here. It’s more about having someone available in case Amy has a turn for the worse, more than anything else. A nurse would be overkill.”
“Can I meet the patient?” Mira asked. “Is there anything else I should know?”
Mary walked her around the apartment, showing her the guest room that she would be staying in, and asking more and more questions about her experience. Either Mary wasn’t sure she should leave Amy at all, or else she wasn’t convinced Mira would be right for the job. Mira hoped her own awkwardness wasn’t causing Mary’s hesitation.
“Mrs. Arnold, I swear. I want nothing more than to provide the best care I can for your sister. I’ve taken care of children; I’ve cared for the elderly and the sick. I’ve done housekeeping. Truly, I have the experience you need. Thomas trusts me, and our families have been close for years.”
Mira’s sincerity must have come through, because Mary finally took her to meet Amy. Amy appeared to have been sleeping, but woke when the door to her room opened. “Amy, this is Kiera Santos, the aide Thomas sent.” Mary spoke softly, as Amy sat up in bed.
The room was dimly lit, so it was difficult to see Amy clearly. Nevertheless, she didn’t look as ill as Mira had feared.
“Great. Hi Kiera, I’m Amy.” Amy stared at Mira as she walked over to her bed to shake her hand.
“Pleased to meet you,” Mira said, swallowing.
Amy seemed to shift her focus after blinking several times. “I don’t know what Mary told you, but I don’t think I need all that much. Just rest, mainly. I’ll need you to drive me to the hospital and you’ll probably need to make sure I eat, since I tend to forget to do that. But I don’t need much. I plan to be back at work next week. But Mary has to head back to D.C. tomorrow, right?”
“Yes,” Mary agreed.
“So, she’s convinced me that I shouldn’t stay alone, despite how well I’m feeling. Relatively speaking, of course,” Amy sounded upbeat, but forced. Her gaze kept sliding off Mira to focus on the sheets instead. Mira thought she seemed tired.
“Of course,” Mira replied. “I can be here whenever you need me. But right now, I think you need to go back to sleep. We can talk more after you wake up.”
Amy addressed Mary. “She’ll be fine, Mary. Stop fretting. Kiera, at least, recognizes that I’m exhausted.” Amy turned back to Mira. “Thank you for coming.”
Mary ushered Mira out and softly shut the door. “Well, that’s that,” Mary said briskly, the relief evident in her voice. She gave Mira the discharge instructions and they agreed on a time for Mira to return tomorrow.
While sirens form strong friendships, romantic pairings are typically fleeting. You should not expect the same kind of exclusivity or longevity in a siren relationship as you might have had with partners in your mundane life. Contractual arrangements such as marriage are generally formed solely for the purpose of generating offspring, and can be more a form of business arrangement than romantic partnership. While some sirens have formed enduring romantic relationships, those are generally considered somewhat risqué, and are typically conducted by the lovers in secret.
– Sirens: An Overview for the Newly-Transitioned, 3rd ed. (2015), by Mira Bant de Atlantic, p. 184.
Chapter 26
A few days of relaxation in the relative safety of the Atlantic seemed to erase Kyoko’s exhaustion. When they landed at Atlantis, she fairly bounced with eagerness to get off the boat.
“I’m not that bad a sailor for you to be in such a hurry to disembark,”
Thomas complained as he looped the lead line around the pier and pulled them close to the dock.
Kyoko threw her arms around him after he had tied off. “I’m not. I just feel so alive! It’s amazing. We can set back out, if you like. With you, I don’t care about anything else.”
Thomas couldn’t stop the half smile that lurked on his face. He was happy. Despite everything, despite the destruction of his house, the people he had lost. He couldn’t bring himself to feel more than a twinge of sadness at what had happened. They had spent the past week crossing the Atlantic alone. If he had any doubt that what he felt for Kyoko was love, this brief honeymoon had erased them. He couldn’t even bring himself to worry about what might happen when they stepped onshore and came back into the real world.
This was the best crossing he had ever made, despite not being immersed in the Atlantic directly. Instead, he had been immersed in Kyoko. She told him about her life before her indenture, but skimmed a lonely picture of her life under its yoke. She’d lectured him for hours about the intricacies of magick, but Thomas wasn’t bored, because it was Kyoko talking.
Kyoko worried that her parents would not be safe from Gerel, and Thomas agreed to call Kadu when they reached shore to see if the were-jaguars would extract them from Rio and bring them safely to his mother’s house. She asked Thomas about his family, and he described his sisters, which made him smile. He should call them, too. Thomas even told her about the shock of his transition, and about his sons, one of whom lived on Ascension Island, and the other on Ryukyu Arc, the Pacific capital.
“Your sons seem to have done quite well. You must be happy to have learned Japanese, since one lives in the Pacific.” Kyoko smiled at him with a mischievous twinkle that made his loins jump. Then a passing pod of dolphins caught her eye, and she continued, almost absently, “Smart decision not to try to take on two babies when you were basically a newborn yourself.”
Thomas was struck by her offhand remark. Kyoko’s words resonated; it didn’t matter that others had said essentially the same thing, or that he shared her view on an objective level. Sometimes you needed to hear it from the only person whose opinion truly mattered. But he still didn’t tell her about his daughter’s death; some pain was too great to share.
“Our apartment is rather small, but I hope you’ll like it,” Thomas said in a carefully offhand way as they strolled down the pier. After his transition, Mira had decided that it was time to find a place of their own in Atlantis, and tasked Thomas with decorating it — her way perhaps of trying to make him feel at home. He had selected every piece of furniture, every rug, every knickknack. Everything. That had been thirty years ago, of course, but he’d handled every update as well. He had redesigned himself when he’d designed their home, so was anxious to see Kyoko’s reaction to his first sanctuary.
One of Atlantea’s guards approached them as they stepped off the pier. “Thomas Bant de Atlantic?”
“Yes,” said Thomas. “Is everything all right?” He was not used to any special attention being paid to him in Atlantis, and felt his face tighten as he tried to keep his anxiety from blossoming across his face.
“The Port Master has a message for you from Atlantis House.”
“Ah. All right. We’ll pick it up on our way out,” Thomas’ skin itched with the desire to get Kyoko out from under the man’s gaze. Kyoko gazed back at the guard, and while she didn’t have that lovesick expression on her face that many women had when they encountered a male siren, she wasn’t nearly as impassive as Thomas would have liked.
“Thank you.” The guard turned and walked back to the covered pavilion where he was stationed. Thomas took Kyoko’s arm and escorted her past towards the port offices at the end of the quay.
As his jaw began to ache with the strain of maintaining his insouciant expression, Thomas realized that he was jealous. It had been so long since he had felt that way that it almost didn’t register. He paused for a moment, gently turning Kyoko towards him and cupped her face in his hands. “I love you,” he said.
Kyoko smiled, bringing her arms up around his back to grip his shoulders. “I love you too.”
Thomas caressed her face and released her. “I didn’t consider what it would be like to bring a human among all the sirens of Atlantis. This is the safest place for you — at least until we can figure out the scope of our vampire problem — but I hadn’t thought about the siren impact on you.” Thomas stared into Kyoko’s dark eyes.
“But I have,” Kyoko said lightly, reaching her hand up to caress Thomas’ neck. His pupils dilated with desire. “Don’t worry. You have an apartment, and we’ll go there. I’ve spent a lot of time by myself in the past, and don’t want any company but yours. Come on. It’s a beautiful day, but I’ve had enough of the sun and salt. I want to take a real shower and eat something that neither of us cooked.” Kyoko drew Thomas back towards the harbor entrance.
Thomas ducked into the port master’s office and retrieved the letter. He decided not to open it until he got to his apartment, just in case it was an immediate summons. In fact, he decided he wouldn’t open it until after Kyoko had her bath and meal, exactly as she requested.
“Thomas, your apartment is lovely,” Kyoko said as he ushered her in and went to draw the blinds. Small motes of dust swirled in the air as the sunlight flooded in and Kyoko held out her hand to catch the shadows as she looked around.
Thomas watched her walk slowly around the main room, but couldn’t read her expression. He tried to see it through her eyes, wondering if she felt as much at home here as she had when she had danced through his mind. He was reassured when Kyoko smiled at him warmly, and let out a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding.
“Cordy won’t mind if I loan you some of her clothes.” Thomas shied away from borrowing clothes from his mother’s closet; when he looked at Kyoko, he only wanted to think about her. But his sister had taken most of her favorites with her when she left for Kasos, and only a few of her casual pareos and kimonos were left. “First a shower, then dinner. Have you ever had Senegalese food?” Thomas asked.
“No, I don’t think so,” Kyoko replied.
“One of my favorite restaurants on the island is Waly-Fay. The chef is from Dakar and I think you might like it.”
“Do sirens use money like we mundanes? I know the enclaves use some kind of point system, but they don’t allow any mundanes in their territory. The fae don’t need restaurants and such.” Kyoko sounded fascinated.
“We don’t prohibit mundanes like the enclaves,” Thomas replied. “And we don’t print our own money or anything — our exchanges with other sirens are perhaps more fae-like than human: we trade favors and the like. But with mundanes…” Thomas paused. “I guess it’s kind of similar to Australia. Mundanes are only allowed on the island by invitation. And when they leave, their sponsors compel them to remember their time here as if they had been on a fae preserve.”
“But they come willingly?” Kyoko asked.
“Oh yeah,” Thomas replied hastily. “It’s a mark of honor to be a sponsor, and they tend to pay the humans very, very well.” He didn’t want Kyoko to think they treated mundanes like the Cabal. Mundanes settled in Australia as second-class inhabitants; in Atlantis, they were guest-workers. Honored guests. Thomas struggled a bit with the comparison, though: except for the fact they were well-paid, some mundanes were perhaps not much better treated here than in Australia.
“Here, let me show you my room — our room — and we can have that shower you asked for.” Thomas wanted to distract Kyoko from her questions about siren society almost as much as he wanted to see her in his bed again.
Eventually, a different hunger drove them out of the bedroom, and Thomas grudgingly escorted Kyoko back into the main room to order dinner. She looked absolutely stunning in a gold pareo with an emerald-green design he couldn’t recall Cordy ever having worn. The fading light outside glinted off her damp hair. He watched her watching him with equal fascination while he ordered s
everal dishes he knew she wouldn’t recognize. Her eyebrows raised, and a slight smile hovered at the edge of her lips as she appreciated his desire to please her.
“How long? Yes, female delivery. Okay, thanks.” Thomas hung up, and came around to sit next to Kyoko on the sofa.
“It must be hard to have to pay attention to gender all the time like that,” Kyoko said. She noticed everything, was interested in everything.
“You get used to it,” Thomas replied, shrugging. “I guess when you look at the constructs — sirens or even the weres — there’s a peculiar balance of power with debility. I’ve always thought that was the mages’ way of ensuring their own creations never got the better of them.”
“It’s possible,” Kyoko replied, considering. “Certainly were susceptibility to mage magick during the light of the full moon is a fail-safe Chía designed. But I doubt the same-sex hatred fertile humans feel towards sirens was a deliberate design element in Aphrodite’s spell. I can think of a lot of better controls than that.”
“You want to build a better mousetrap?” Thomas snorted with amusement combined with pride. “I’m sure you could.”
“Maybe not redesign you,” Kyoko spoke slowly, stroking a line in the air above his chest. Thomas felt her cool touch within his very core and shivered in pleasure. “But I’ve been looking at this odd distortion in your pattern. I don’t know that you even realize it’s there?” She dropped her hand to toy with the sleeve of his shirt.
Thomas shook his head.
“It’s a magical chain, a binding. I think it’s a very old blood-geas. The kind that’s inherited, not cast on you directly.” Kyoko’s eyes focused and unfocused, and Thomas thought he heard a light arpeggio of bells in the distance as he felt her magick stroke his skin. “I don’t see it entwined in the cell structure — though the siren spell gleams in that. This chain is actually layered on top, so I don’t think it’s part of Aphrodite’s original design. But it is bound into your very DNA.”
Sirens Unbound Page 29