She inhaled the crisp salt air as the wind brushed her face. The ocean called to her, begging her to come out and play. Being this close to the water—to the driving force of her magick—hurt, twisting her inside out. Before the mermaids, before Elosia and the water stone, the ocean simply beat the shore, but now its energy thundered in her chest, rolling with the rhythm of her heart. The last time she travelled down these streets, she was simply Halen Windspeare: messed up student, freak who blacked out in class when she removed her ear plugs—girl who simply sketched the sea.
She passed through the gates of the RV park and rested her bike against the new building. Standing beneath the lamp post, she removed the key from her pocket, but the shiny keypad blocked her from entering. Her fingertips enlivened with sparks, daring her to enter on her own. “I can’t,” she said out loud and laughed at the ridiculousness of talking to her magick. It didn’t have a life of its own; it was she who was in control. And Dax. He too had a magick pass. Hopefully, whatever her mom left would help her find a way out of this mess. She leaned against the building, tucking her arms around her while scanning the empty RV slips and the grounds across the lot. Tree branches swayed with the rising winds, casting shadows along the concrete and stirring her already frazzled nerves. She hugged herself tighter.
A car entered, and the driver flashed their high beams.
She shielded her eyes as the car drove forward and parked in the space across from her.
When the purr of the engine died, Peter hopped out and waved. "Hi, looks like it's a good thing I'm early. The boss sent me home after what happened today. He's making me take a few days off."
"I'm really sorry." Poor guy. Visiting his dead girlfriend's storage locker was probably the last place he wanted to be. Yet, here he was after a stressful day at work to help her out. Peter was a rock star in her books.
"Hey, it's not your fault. He's probably right anyway. I should have taken the time off before." He stood by the keypad, then removing a crumpled piece of paper from his pocket, he punched in a code. "Well, let's see what Sarah had for you." The door buzzed when he entered the last digit. He grabbed the handle and yanked it open. "After you."
Metal caged lights hung overhead; when Peter flipped the switch, they hummed to life. Halen glanced down the narrow hallway filled with upper and lower storage lockers. Musty lifejackets, fishing poles, crab traps, and coolers filled the wire lockers. Halen hoped her mom's idea of survival gear wasn't quite so survival-y. She wasn't much of a camper. She peered in a locker filled with colorful kites, then made her way to the next one.
"Over here!" Peter's voice boomed in the hollows of the building. "It's up there." He pointed to the locker above. "Her dad didn't have much to store." He grabbed a ladder and placed it against the bottom locker. "I can go up if you like."
Her mom had gone to great lengths to hide the key and entrust it with only one person. She had to be the one to open the locker. "I've got this."
She took one step up but stopped as the pungent scent of damp fur wafted past her nose. Monroe. She sniffed the air, turning back toward Peter. "Were you followed?"
The ping of metal hitting concrete echoed from the next aisle. Sparks trailed her arms.
Peter brought his finger to his lips, motioning for her to be quiet. He stepped away from the ladder, whispering, "I'll check it out." He bit his lip, glancing nervously over the rims of his glasses.
She snagged his jacket sleeve. No way would she let him get hurt. She climbed down the ladder. "I'll go."
A swoosh followed by a rustling shoved her siren senses into overdrive. "Stay here." She held her hand against the air. Halen crept toward the end of the aisle. She felt life on the other side, heard shallow breath, and a rapid heartbeat pounding against a rib cage. Sparks charged along her skin. She rolled her shoulders back, prepared to fight whatever beast had come for her, and stepped into the open.
Her breath hitched when she caught sight of a man. Sand coated his feet, water beaded his muscled chest, and his wide crystal clear Elosian eyes penetrated through to her core. "How lucky can I be?" A sly grin played on his lips. "You're the one, aren't you?"
Halen inched back when her shoulders bumped something hard. Peter's warm breath fell at her neck. As she reached to push him away from danger, he grabbed her arm.
The Elosian man's grin broadened. "Hello, Peter."
Panic ran like a screaming banshee through Halen. She glanced back at Peter and then to the Elosian. Peter's fist clamped tighter. "What are you doing?" Her voice cracked with fear.
"Sarah told me everything before she died. Of course, it took some persuasion." His nails dug in her flesh. "I've been waiting for you."
"Who are you?" Her gaze met with the Elosian. "Did my father send you?"
He laughed, shaking the water from his blond hair. "We're done with your father's games. Rania has promised great rewards for any siren head, but for yours…" His brows quirked up over gleaming eyes. "With you, I will secure a position on the council."
"If you kill me, the portal will open. Tarius will be free. Surely, Rania doesn't want to set a demon loose?"
"The portal won't open. We're taking you to the Hunters. Your soul will remain safe in their arrows while we eradicate the rest of the sirens."
She shoved hard against Peter, but he was much stronger than he appeared. Again, she caught a whiff of damp fur. Was Monroe lurking in the shadows too? "Rania's son was a siren. Did she tell you?"
"And she paid the price for her sin." The Elosian man stepped toward her, reaching for the strap at his waist. He pulled out a dagger; the blade hooked like a sickle, and the metal shone with encrusted diamonds.
A knife? Was he serious? Even with all that bling, he might as well be brandishing a toothpick. She could handle a simple blade.
He lunged.
Peter shoved her forward. The blade nicked her palm, sending a fiery pain across her skin. She screamed out as her blood dripped, sizzling on the concrete. "What did you do?" Her gaze darted to the dagger, before landing on his satisfied stare.
"Come with me and I won't need to show you the extent of its powers." He aimed the weapon, ready to strike. "There's no need to suffer. I've heard you’re a very nice girl."
"You heard wrong." With a flick of her wrist, she unleashed a jolt of electricity through Peter. He flew back clutching his chest.
"Sarah fought too." Peter dropped to the ground, falling in what seemed like slow motion as his transition happened so fast, yet so clear before her eyes. His shoulders rounded with bristling striped fur; his hands and feet formed padded paws with razor pointed claws. Whiskers sprouted from his cheeks, his jaw lengthened, his eyes narrowed, and his whole body twisted and shifted until she found herself face to face with a beast.
Halen's breath caught. The scent at the bank didn't belong to Monroe. “You’re Etlin?”
Peter roared.
"You can't kill this one." The Elosian narrowed the space between them.
Pressed between a blood boiling dagger and sharp incisors, her magick surged like a winter's storm. She struck the tiger first, shoving his body against the door. The door opened, letting in the ocean air. The breeze called to Halen’s magick, now charging along her skin. She searched the static energy within the wind, beckoning it to her command with a clap of her hands. The tiger sprang, but she whipped the winds around the feline, drawing him toward the ceiling, as she bound him thread by thread, spinning the wind like rope. He thrashed against her wind cage, snarling with a fierce growl.
The Elosian darted for the open door.
Let him go, her mother’s voice rang through her magick.
Kill him, Dax’s voice sang louder.
She flinched at the sound of his voice.
If you let him go, others will follow, Dax coaxed her magick to her hands. Curling her fingers inward, she slammed the door shut before the Elosian crossed the threshold.
"Please!" He pounded the metal door.
With a wa
ve of her hand, she captured his weapon. The blade hung midair, the tip aimed at his muscled chest. He searched for an escape; his gaze darted to the tiger beating its paws against her wind cage. His frantic heartbeat called to her from the dark side of her seam. Travelling in unchartered waters with Dax at the helm, she couldn't resist the dark temptation—she didn't even try. With the tip of the blade, she drew the metal across his chest. Blood bubbled from the lesion. He wailed with agony and his cries fuelled her rage. With a flick of her fingers, she thrust him back and continued carving her message.
Tears rolled down his cheeks. "Please, let me go."
The tiger roared, igniting new waves of sparks. This new magick embraced her grief, spinning her sorrow into something magnificent—an invincible power without the feeling of pain. Shaking her fist, the cage tightened until the tiger silenced in her grip.
This is not the way. The whispered voice of her mom swarmed her.
Halen swatted her voice away.
Her mother’s voice persisted. Tarius craves rage—resist.
Her gaze darted to the Elosian. Blood tears dripped down his cheeks as he squirmed beneath the dagger.
You are stronger than this.
Halen released her fist at once. The tiger plunged to the concrete, its coppery stare void of life. She knelt grabbing his fur in her fists. “What have I done?” Her thoughts flashed with Dax; a rifle propped on his shoulder aimed at Wolfe. She drew back, inhaling sharply. “Dax.” When his name passed her lips, she trembled.
“You’re all demons,” the Elosian shouted.
How could she argue otherwise with a dead shifter at her feet? She blew out, releasing the last of her sparks, and the door flew open.
The Elosian bolted; the bloodied dagger dropped, landing with a ringing clang. Choking back the regret, she tore her gaze from the dead shifter and studied her hands, which were now a blackish-blue tinge from the dark magick she cast. Her head grew light, swimming with Peter’s death and how easily her magick stole his breath.
She glanced once more at the boy whose life she had taken. She couldn’t just leave him on the cold hard floor, but Halen didn’t have time to move him either. The look of disdain in the Elosian man’s eyes meant he would return—and not alone. Despite her remorse, the need to survive was stronger. She had to collect whatever Sarah Winters hid for her and get the hell out before more trouble arrived.
She ran, stopping at the locker. As she grasped the ladder, her hands shook, her feet unable to lift to the first step. Steadying her hand, she unscrewed the vial of elixir from her pocket. She downed the coral and bone, sipping every drop, running her tongue along the rim. Her magick enlivened, and this too scared her. If more Elosians arrived, would she kill them? Already, her unconscious Guardian had too much control.
At the top of the ladder, she unfastened the lock and opened the door. Her heart sank. Life jackets and fishing rods mocked her; nothing but a bunch of junk. Halen pinched her eyes tightly as a sharp pain cut across her temple. Her mom's gift had to be here—she needed it to be. Digging past the life jackets, she spotted a beat-up cooler; the lid sat askew, the plug missing. As she chucked the cooler aside, it seemed oddly heavy. Prying the lid open, she peeked inside. Her jaw dropped as she pulled out a thick stack of bills. Several more bands of money lined the inside. Had Sarah and her dad robbed the bank? Thinking this was not what her mom had left behind, she pushed the cooler aside, when a shimmer drew her attention. Beneath the bills, a long wooden box with a shiny brass clasp called to her. When she popped open the box, a smile filled her face; eighteen vials of elixir lay cradled in royal blue velvet. “Thank you, mom,” she whispered under her breath.
Stuffing the money in her pockets, she scanned the locker once more to make certain she hadn’t missed anything. With the box tucked under her arm, Halen descended the ladder while keeping an ear out for signs of others. She paused at the door, guilt dragging her thoughts back to Peter. “I’m sorry,” she said and pushed through into the chill of the night.
A seagull landed on the lamp post above releasing a high-pitched cry. The bird's stare followed as she made her way to her bike. Not every animal is a shifter. She shook away the sparks rising with her fear. No more death. She hopped on the bicycle, setting the box of elixir in the basket. As she peddled alongside the ocean, she scanned the shadows and waves. With the coral and bone coursing through her veins, she could fight…but for how long? She glanced toward the wooden box. She didn’t have near enough elixir to battle them all.
EVEN IN THE safety of her home, Halen’s sparks rolled beneath her skin. She ran to the kitchen window, peering out for any signs of Hunters, shifters, even Elosians, but the beach remained as empty as the night she dragged Dax to shore. Dax. She held her blue tinged palms to the light. What had she done? What if the Elosian were right—what if the earth was safer with her soul locked eternally in a Hunter’s arrow? Dax couldn’t touch her magick then. Her arm burned, and when she shoved back her sleeve, the silver spiral of her birthmark elongated forming a sharp point. Her breath hitched. She traced the line. Had Peter’s death changed her fate?
"What are you doing here?" A girl's voice shattered her thoughts.
Halen raised her hands to strike as she reeled around to face the intruder. Nelia stood at the entrance of the kitchen, salt water dripping from her body, pooling on the concrete at her sand coated feet. Halen's gaze rested on the silver interlocking loops on Nelia's necklace, the chain Quinn had given her as a parting gift. She wondered if Nelia would blame her for Quinn, for taking away all she loved. Did revenge bring Nelia to her doorstep? Halen widened her stance. "I could ask you the same."
Nelia stepped toward her.
Halen thrust her palms against the air sending Nelia flying against the wall.
"I'm not here to hurt you!" She squirmed in the grip of Halen's magick.
Still, Halen kept her hands pressed against the air, lifting Nelia higher, so just the tips of her toes touched the floor. "How did you get in?"
"You left the door open."
She glanced toward the patio door. Had she forgotten to lock it when she left? "The alarm was on."
"You're in the house, aren’t you? Look, I saw the door open. I entered. I thought Lorn had come here. I was prepared to fight for you."
Halen’s magick spun with her confusion. Her grip tightened.
"Halen, listen to me. You don't have long. They're coming for you. When I heard a siren had been spotted in Rockaway, I didn't think you'd be stupid enough to come here."
Her words stung. Nelia had no right to criticize her. "Where else would I go? This is my home."
"Inland—as far away from the ocean as possible. Do you still have the water stone?"
Halen tightened the force holding Nelia as she spotted a diamond encrusted dagger secured at her hip. Blood flecked the tip.
Nelia followed her gaze. "I followed Lorn, but I had to take a detour because I was followed. I dragged the shifter you killed out to the ocean. You can't leave tracks behind. Not with a full-on hunt for you, your sister, and Asair. You need to get the water stone away from here and hide where they can never find you."
Nelia had fought for her behind the mermaids' gate. Her gaze found the raised scar across her neck where the mermaid struck. Nelia had sacrificed and suffered more than most. Still, so many lies had been told. She didn’t know who to trust anymore. "I don’t have anywhere else to go. This is all I have left."
"I know a place you can go. Can you drive?"
Halen shrugged. "Yeah, but I don't even have a licence."
"Nothing matters but keeping you safe. I would come with you if I could, but I should stay and fight. Plus, I’ll be more of a hindrance the farther inland you go.”
“How do I know this isn’t a trap?”
“Because I’m not Tari. The shifters will take care of you.”
“Shifters? Are you insane? A shifter just tried to kill me.” She tightened her grip.
“No harm wil
l come to you. Believe me or don’t—just get the hell out before Rania surfaces."
She swallowed hard, fear tripping along her skin at the thought of facing her again. If the mermaids hadn't intervened in Elosia, Rania would have let the Krull army snap her bones one by one. She dropped her hands by her sides, allowing Nelia's feet to touch the floor.
"You said they’re hunting my sister and Asair as well—they must be alive. Do you know where they are?"
Nelia shook her head. "They’re definitely alive because the Etlis portal is sealed tight, but there's been no word from either of them. I have to assume they've gone into hiding. You need to do the same."
"I have to find them."
Nelia reached for the pen and paper on the counter. She scrawled a name and slid the sheet in front of Halen. "They're doing what needs to be done to keep Tarius locked away. You need to do the same. Go to this lake. The shifters there will keep you safe. No one will find you."
A gust of wind rushed in from the living room. Nelia's gaze darted past her shoulder. "Go—now!"
This was all too much. Nelia didn’t understand. She couldn’t just hop in a car and drive away. She had serious baggage.
“Don’t just stand there. Get going.” Nelia prodded.
"I can't move Dax."
"He's here? Where?" Nelia spun, searching.
Halen nodded toward the laundry room. At once, Nelia stripped away the chair barricade and flung open the door. "Oh, mercy." She slammed the door shut. "I'll cover you. Use your magick." Her steel gaze met with hers. "Be safe!" She grabbed the blade in her fist and dashed into the living room.
Trembling, Halen pocketed the address, gathered the vials and opened the door to Dax. A part of her wanted to choke him for Peter’s death, but like it or not, he was part of her now. She had to protect this monster. A crash from the living room sent her already racing heart into overdrive. Blowing, she lifted Dax with her breath, so he floated. With the breeze, she directed him toward the garage while trying to drown the sounds of glass shattering in the other room. Grabbing the car keys, she popped the trunk, guiding Dax's body inside. She snatched the water stone from the floor, jumped in the driver's seat, pushed the button for the ignition, and opened the garage door. When the door slid open, a growling bear blocked her exit; beside the furry beast, a waif of a girl—Lina.
Smoke and Ruin (The Siren Chronicles Book 3) Page 3