Sirens and Scales

by Kellie McAllen

Locked together, I trailed my tongue along his lower lip, then slowly, so slowly, began to move.

  By the third rise of my hips, Santino tore the shirt off my body. The fabric fell to the side, and he claimed an aching nipple with his mouth while his hands explored my back. Silken heat pooled between my thighs, burning and untamed, and I rode him, marveling how with my every move, his teeth grazed harder against the sensitive flesh of my breast.

  My breaths quickened, the promise of orgasm clenching my muscles and obliterating reality with each new wave, but right as I trembled, suspended on the verge of reaching the tantalizing peak, Santino released my nipple with a deep, throaty growl.

  His hands grasped my hips in an unyielding grip before I could protest, something wild and utterly male falling upon his features as his eyes bore into mine. Between one breath and the next, he snatched my control away, guiding my body down as he thrust upward with such strength, I thought my very being would shatter.

  I cried out, sinking my nails into his shoulders. The heated release erupted in my core, and I clutched onto him, riding wave after wave of pleasure that ravaged my flesh. I didn’t know when I’d closed my eyes, but when I opened them again, I saw Santino looking at me with such intensity my breath hitched.

  My muscles convulsed around the exquisite hardness of him in a plea for more. A request he gladly granted.

  With powerful grace, Santino lifted us both off the love seat. For a moment, air brushed against my exposed skin, then the cool press of the wall replaced its touch. Goose bumps exploded down my spine, the blend of cold and heat seducing me as thoroughly as the dragon, sheathed between my thighs.

  Santino lowered his lips to my neck, sucking and nibbling on my rapid pulse, but kept the thrusts of his hips gentle, exploring new angles and brushing against spots our previous rhythm had caused us to overlook. My entire body was trembling under his assault, and as my muscles tightened, a warning growl slipped from his lips, the echo reverberating across the sensitive skin of my neck.

  “Careful, piccola. I want to pleasure you until there isn’t an inch left unsated. Until you beg me to feed off your release, just because you cannot take more.” His breath was a husky caress, lips brushing against my skin. “Don’t tell me you already want me to stop…”

  I didn’t want him to stop.

  But I did want him.

  I moved in tune with his thrusts, clenching my muscles around his velvet thickness until he grew, filling me so completely I couldn’t help but scream into the air above us. I forced his rhythm, pushing him to enter me faster, harder, to take me without caution or reserve.

  “Feed on me, Santino,” I whispered between gasps. “Feed on me and let me feel you come.”

  His responding thrust was pure power. Physical and metaphysical alike. His incubus magic swirled around me, waiting to drink in the explosion of rapture once my orgasm spilled over that seductively painful edge.

  But as his energy grew—so did mine.

  Not the lethal tendrils of a Rusalka’s allure, but the seductive light of a nymph, irrevocably linked to love and passion.

  Santino’s gaze met mine as our powers entwined, and when he pushed inside me, releasing that final barrier on his power and body, he claimed me as his.

  And I claimed him as mine.

  21

  Santino truly hadn’t been exaggerating when he said the lair was equipped with food and drink. There was a whole kitchen behind one of the doors leading off the main area, and by the amount of provisions he kept stored in here, he either expected we would have to retreat from the cabin eventually, or spent a fair amount of time belowground himself. Somehow, I felt it was a combination of both.

  The rich aroma of coffee wrapped around my senses as I cradled a pine-green mug and studied the map Santino had spread across the table. He was sitting on my right, his knee lightly brushing against mine, but his expression remained serious even when I returned the affection.

  It was almost funny, really, that after everything we had discussed, fought over, and finally accepted, this was the one thing we couldn’t agree upon. Yet at the same time, a part of me was glad.

  It felt… It felt normal, the bickering. The concern.

  This wasn’t Mesechyn the nightmare perched on a chair beside me.

  Although perhaps I was partially trying so hard precisely because I would do anything to keep him from reclaiming that mantel.

  I sighed and took a long sip of my coffee, then gently placed the cup next to the map and glanced at the somber Perelesnyk. It was obvious he didn’t like my plan one bit, and I knew why. Not only did it rip control away from him, but it placed me right in the front lines.

  There was no point in denying that I was scared out of my wits—even when the proposition was mine, and mine alone—but it didn’t change the fact that I was also adamant to not back down. I pursed my lips. If Santino didn’t want us to waste even more precious time, he would have to swallow his protests and agree.

  Unfortunately, I wasn’t certain he wouldn’t rather risk the full force of Kauer’s men coming here than allow me to face my sisters by myself.

  “I still think the river approach is too dangerous,” he said for what must have been the fourth time.

  I rested my hands in my lap and twisted sideways until I was facing him—demanding his attention. “If I work with the water, Santino, they won’t sense me coming. You know I’m right.”

  His mouth pulled into a thin line, but slowly, so slowly, he exhaled.

  I brought my hand up to cup his cheek, feeling the warmth of his skin echo the anger pooling in his silver-blue eyes. I understood his worry. Perhaps more than he knew. But it didn’t change two simple facts.

  Not all of the Rusalkas there deserved to die.

  And I didn’t want to be the person who would force Santino back into the clutches of his fiery past.

  In light of that, fussing over my own safety seemed almost trivial. The Rusalkas’ magic wouldn’t work on me, but given how the lake had reacted to my powers, I was fairly certain my blend of ethereal strength didn’t gender discriminate. After all, this mermaid magic seemed to be attuned to me, not its targets.

  “Please, Santino,” I whispered, bringing his face to mine when he wanted to turn away. “Please, let me do this. For both of us.”

  His muscular frame shuddered as he exhaled. “Fine, we’ll do it your way, cara.” I perked up, but a slight curl in the corners of his mouth stopped the surge of satisfaction. “If you manage to contain me.”

  The silver dragon descended upon the lake, wings spread wide and onyx eyes fixed upon me. Only the sight wasn’t one belonging to a nightmare.

  It belonged to a dream.

  Santino’s otherworldly beauty stunned me for a moment, and that was precisely what he had hoped for. Because that single second was enough to give him the opening he would otherwise have never received.

  I swore, but Santino was already moving. He swooped down low, not using fire—one of the few rules we had agreed upon beforehand—but his talons swept across the water, parting it like a sharp blade.

  I propelled myself to the side, magic spilling from my core with maddening urgency. Lovestruck or not, Santino would use my mistake to prove his point, to show me that I wasn’t skilled enough to fight my former sisters. I couldn’t allow that to happen.

  A massive wave rolled over me, the structure denser than anything nature could have created without a supernatural push. With Santino’s speed and the sharpness of his claws, I didn’t delude myself into believing I could stop him completely, but even slowing him down was enough. I dunked under the surface to make my way faster across the lake, all the while shaping its currents into a slithering form that couldn’t be seen from above.

  Stealth was crucial.

  Santino was physically stronger than me, and—unlike the Rusalkas—well aware of my capabilities, so the initial element of surprise I might have had was gone. However, that didn’t mean I couldn’t create a second
one.

  I swam as if I were fleeing, casting occasional vines or walls of water so that the attacking dragon wouldn’t see through my game while I bided those precious seconds that just might change the tide. More and more magic flowed from my core, binding the water to me and me to it, until we were living in absolute harmony, my song a silent melody that saturated the currents and made them pliant in the arms of my desires.

  Still, the urge to look up gnawed at the edges of my mind, but I didn’t dare give in to the impulse to sneak a glimpse at Santino’s flying form. If he managed to distract me again… I pushed the thought out of my mind and monitored his shadow instead, reading his position from the light breeze uncurling from beneath his wings and ruffling the lake’s surface.

  On my third time around, I struck.

  Almost every ounce of water the lake harbored shot towards the sky, the threads bending and entwining until they created a circular orb that encircled Santino, then solidified into the hardest of ice. I saw the glimmer in his eyes, that smug look that told me he was about to renegade on our no-fire rule.

  But I was ready for him.

  Two slender jets of water snaked around his face, one binding his muzzle, while the other pooled before his nostrils, just daring him to try and vaporize it. He knew as well as I did that by the time he took that lethal inhale to release his fire, his lungs would already be drowned.

  Only the silver dragon didn’t appear to be dissuaded by my threat.

  We remained like that for a moment longer, my muscles and mind aching from the exhaustion of wielding so much power at once, but I refused to let go. Refused to drop my hold on it in case Santino felt like cheating.

  Thankfully, the man knew how to admit defeat.

  He angled his massive, silver head in acknowledgment, onyx eyes staring at me with admiration. I smiled and released the magic, but the moment I did, Santino reached for his human form.

  I swore viciously, calling for my power again, and quickly cushioned his fall with a gentle wave that eased him into the once more full lake. I waited for a second, two, then splashed him right over the head with the magic-touched current.

  With a growl, Santino shook his silver curls, sending droplets to cool my heated face. I closed my eyes out of reflex. When I blinked again, Santino jumped, all but dunking me under the water as he drew me into a crushing embrace.

  A deep, rumbling laughter joined mine as our gazes locked. Santino captured my lips, his hand already playing with the sensitive scales running down from the small of my back.

  One last moment. One last moment stolen from the reality we hoped to tear down.

  And replace it with something new.

  22

  For all the bravado I had shown Santino back at the cabin, I was terrified.

  I swam downstream, feeding my magic into the water to cloak my presence—and took solace in knowing that I had at least been right in this. It felt almost as if I were ensconced in a bubble, a solid layer of power that, despite its potency, couldn’t be sensed from the outside. Even if the Rusalkas were listening to the currents, they would feel nothing amiss.

  What worried me, however, was what would happen once merely concealing myself would no longer be enough.

  As we agreed, Santino was waiting on dry land at safe distance. I was well aware that in dragon form it would only take him a few seconds to reach the morass in case things went wrong, but the thought failed to reassure me. Even such a small time window was enough for the Rusalkas to cause some serious damage if they all came at me at once. After all, the bloodshed during the change hadn’t lasted long.

  But even more than I was afraid of the fragile state of my fate, I was terrified of failing.

  Terrified of dragging Santino down the rabbit hole of murder and mass slaughter he had worked so hard to escape.

  I exhaled. No, I needed to do this right. And panic wouldn’t help me achieve that. So I brought up the image of Santino in my mind, remembered the phantom brush of his lips, the way his hands caressed my back, and used it all as a tether.

  This was what I was fighting for. Not merely my life, but ours.

  Gradually, the water around me darkened, shifting from its crystal blue innocence to the deep green that matched the canopy of trees looming above. The riverbed became shadowed, too, exchanging the slickness of stone for the dense, inky texture of mud, and all too soon I found myself nearing the familiar bend that would open up into the morass I had once called home.

  I slowed, making sure the bubble of power remained undisturbed, then willed a single current of water to slip inside—the current I had commanded to flow against its nature, feeding me the information I sought.

  As I had expected, two Rusalkas stood sentry at the mouth of the morass, and a part of me relaxed as I realized that neither of them were among those I wished to save. I needed an audience to convince my former sisters that I meant them no harm—not all of them, at least—and I would have hated to forfeit the guards’ lives simply because they found themselves at the wrong place at the wrong time. Even if it hadn’t been for Santino’s steel-hard insistence, this was one part of the plan I knew I had to fulfill whether I liked it or not.

  Briefly, I closed my eyes and sucked in a long, shuddering breath. One last chance to turn around.

  I didn’t take it.

  I swam forward with all the speed I could muster, and at the same time released the part of my magic I had kept boiling under the surface of my skin. Instantly, the currents wrapped around the two Rusalkas who came into view around the bend, pressing them against the riverbed and rendering them immobile. Their eyes widened for a split second before pure, burning hatred filled their gazes, matching the twin sneers tugging on their mouths.

  The sight cast me back to that wretched day, phantom echoes of the snarls and battle cries that had filled the morass exploding in my mind, and yet… There was nothing but silence surrounding me now.

  And so it would remain.

  The sentries couldn’t cry out in outrage, couldn’t raise the alarm that would bring the rest of them crashing my way. The river was placing pressure on their lips, and until I said otherwise, these translucent bonds would stay.

  Only that wasn’t even the extent of it.

  The protection bubble I’d kept around me now encompassed us all, preventing any disturbances from reaching the heart of the morass. I swam towards Ana, the brown-haired female closest to me.

  For Iza. For Angela. For us.

  I kept repeating those words like a mantra as the Rusalka watched me steadily, eyes brimming with anger and a defiance that would have scared me away if I had still been merely one of their own.

  But I wasn’t. Not any longer. The Rusalkas had made sure of that, and no amount of silent threats, of promises of punishment deep below the darkened surface could change my mind.

  I reminded myself of all the men I had killed by the lake. And before.

  Yet somehow, this felt different. Personal. Intimate, even.

  My body rebelled violently at the idea of snapping Ana’s neck, of coating my bare hands with her final, permanent death, but still I closed the distance. With a sharp intake of breath, I steadied myself, but before I took that dreaded leap, a tug at my core cut through the seething mass of discomfort. I hesitated, unable to identify the meaning at first. It didn’t feel like a warning; it felt…

  Like an offer.

  I stilled as I realized what the water was proposing. What it was setting itself up to be—then accepted its gift. I allowed it to become as much a barrier between me and death as my voice had once been; as the currents had, when the hitmen had swarmed the lake.

  Without anger or remorse, perhaps only a slight sense of righteousness, the element morphed into ethereal, yet frighteningly solid hands that snaked around Ana’s head and snapped her neck without a moment of hesitation.

  I gasped, staring at the lifeless body, unable to believe the truth lingering so bluntly before my eyes. I had always felt a sen
tience in the water, but seeing actual proof of it rendered me speechless.

  Yes, it had been my will to end the Rusalka’s life that had stirred the currents, but it was their desire to protect me, to cleanse themselves of her threatening presence that had made them so obedient. So lethal.

  They had used my magic as an instrument to achieve something they never could have otherwise. The thought astonished as much as it scared me.

  Unfortunately, as engulfed in shock and understanding as I was, I failed to notice the disturbance in the water just a second too late.

  I spun towards the second Rusalka, my magic leaping from me at once, but the menacing victory in her cold blue gaze told me I would never stop her warning in time. Trepidation ran down my limbs even as the currents snaked around her and wrung her neck, swiftly dissipating her into the underworld.

  Yet for all my strength, I could do nothing but watch that faint trickle of blood oozing from her back where she had injured it on a protruding rock. That same current I now held suspended mid flow—but not all of it.

  A small fragment had drifted downstream before my magic could snatch it.

  I shut my eyes against the dread pooling at the pit of my stomach as I listened to the resonance of anger and action. The Rusalkas knew of my presence; there was no question about it now.

  And they were adamant to finish what they had started.

  23

  For a moment, every muscle in my body tensed, the water stilling in response. Then I was swimming, propelling myself down the ever widening river as fast as I could, aiming for the seething mass of bodies that waited for me beyond. Darkness swirled around me, the morass greeting me with its somber hue and the unmistakable fragrance of death.

  My would-be home.

  Panic rose in my chest, memories of the decades I had spent here threatening to rise from the pit I’d cast them in. Their phantom talons wrapped around my heart, and I knew that if I were to let a single one of them sink in, my resolve, my strength—it would all falter.