Siren's Lure

by Frost Kay

  She kept her cool façade, just arching an eyebrow as he was pulled off her ship and thrown onto the dock below. “I doubt that, but you’re welcome to try.”

  He pushed from his hands and knees, tipping his chin up to glare at her. “I don’t try; I succeed.”

  The hair along the back of her neck rose. She didn’t doubt him.

  As she stared down at the man she’d broken, one thought was absolutely clear. He would come for her. It wasn’t a matter of if, but of when.

  Chapter Seven

  Hayjen

  Everything in his body screamed at him to storm the ship and wrap his hands around the pirate’s slim neck. Rage, helplessness, and despair tumbled through him one after another like waves beating against the shore.

  Mer.

  Pain.

  Rage.

  Death.

  Mer.

  Helplessness.

  Despair.

  Rage.

  Death.

  He glared at the exotic captain and made a promise to Mer and himself that there would be justice. Her mouth stretched into an arrogant grin that said do your worst.

  Hayjen was stunned for a moment.

  When the captain smiled, she was breathtakingly beautiful. It was wrong that such beauty masked such evil and corruption, but her arrogance would be her downfall. He smiled inwardly; the young captain underestimated him. She wouldn’t see him coming until it was too late.

  Hayjen sketched a sarcastic bow and then forced his feet to move away from the ship. His neck prickled at all the eyes witnessing his departure. Take a good look. You won’t see me the second time. He picked up his speed, anxious to see his sister and set his plan in motion. When his boots touched dirt, Hayjen’s eyes grew damp.

  He had made it home. Against all odds.

  Fishers, merchants, and sailors scurried around him as he closed his eyes and reveled in the solid ground beneath his feet. When he opened them, Hayjen was a little lost. Where would his sister be? Even with their small savings, she wouldn’t have been able to afford their home by herself with him gone. Where would she have gone? They didn’t have many friends that could take on another mouth to feed. He shook his head and focused. He needed to check their old home first—if Gwen wasn’t there, then he would speak to the neighbors. They were kind people, but nosey. They would have information about his sister.

  Hayjen wove through the throng of people, putting the fishing district behind him. The tension in his shoulders released a bit as he passed familiar streets and homes. He swung around one last corner and spied his home. It was a rustic little shack made of dark stone with a well-kept wooden porch and two small windows, windows that were currently dark. The stairs complained as they always did as he stepped up to the door. His hand hesitated over the knob for a moment. Did he really want to see what was inside? He took a deep breath and entered. Light poured in through the doorway, illuminating the empty space. What had been such a cozy home was now an empty space with four stone walls and a fireplace.

  “Gwen?” he called, knowing she wouldn’t answer.

  Nothing.

  He moved further into the home, investigating both bedrooms. Both cold and empty. Hayjen turned and followed the tracks his boots made in the dust covered floor. He paused in the living room, despair clinging to him. He knew his sister wouldn’t be here, yet some part of him hoped to walk through the door and spy Gwen sitting and reading in her favorite chair by the fireplace. He gazed in through the open doorway, dust floating in the air. He felt like his life had been erased.

  Moving back outside, Hayjen took one last look at the place and closed the door to his life. He stared blankly at the homes around his. It still looked the same, but nothing was quite right. There were little changes here and there that left him feeling out of touch with the world. A ringing filled his ears, disorienting him.

  “Haaaaay,” a distorted voice called, but he couldn’t even bring himself to search for the owner of the voice. All he could do was stare at the space in front of him as it undulated and changed colors. Nothing was right. He swayed as the world blurred around him. His sister, Mer, the Scythians. Nothing would be normal again.

  “Hayjen!”

  A sharp voice snapped him from whatever that was. He blinked a few times and noticed an old hand clutched his arm. He shook himself and squinted at the owner of the hand. A wrinkled old face with serious, grey eyes peered up at him.

  Helva. An elderly neighbor.

  “Well, sonny, I didn’t expect you to show up here.”

  He stared.

  Helva raised a brow. “You are Hayjen, aren’t you? My old eyes aren’t so good these days.”

  “It’s me, old mother.”

  She smiled a crooked grin. “Stars above, I can’t believe it! Come, come. Let’s have some tea.” She pulled on his arm with surprising strength and towed him towards her home. “Edwin!” she bellowed. “Edwin!”

  “What are you shouting about this time, you old bat? Don’t you know you’ll irritate the whole neighborhood if you keep carrying on like that,” Edwin shouted as he shuffled out the door with his cane. “I—” the elder man paused mid-rant when he caught sight of Hayjen. “Hayjen, my boy. Is that you?”

  The little old man moved down the stairs and enveloped him in a hug. He still smelled the same, a bit like pine and smoke.

  “I made it home,” Hayjen choked out.

  Edwin leaned back and scowled at his wife. “Why didn’t you say Hayjen was home?”

  Helva rolled her eyes. “You didn’t give me a chance.”

  Edwin’s eyes twinkled as he bent to give his wife a kiss on her weathered cheek. “Sorry, my love.”

  “Mmhmm…” she murmured with a smile and a twinkle in her eyes.

  “Come inside, we’ll feed ya, and you can tell us what has kept you all this time.”

  Hayjen froze. The couple had overwhelmed him such that for a moment Gwen had gone right out of his mind. Carefully, he pulled Helva’s hand from his shoulder and kissed it. “Thank you for the invitation, but I need to find my sister. Do you know where she is?”

  Edwin’s open face turned wary. “Have you not been to see her?”

  Hayjen dug deep for patience. “No, I have not. I don’t know where she’s been staying.”

  “She’s with the Blackwells,” Helva piped up.

  “Blackwells?” His brows furrowed in confusion. “What in the blazes is she doing with the Blackwells?”

  Helva patted him on the arm. “It’s her tale to tell, but she’s been well looked after. She visits us several times a week.”

  “That’s nice,” Hayjen remarked absently. He didn’t know much of the Blackwells except that they were swordsmiths and the lady of the house had died years ago. “I need to go. Thank you for your information.” He hugged the couple and sprinted towards the forge. His hairline had grown damp with sweat by the time the place came into sight. Hayjen burst into the forge and gulped in a deep breath. Gwen stood in the arms of a very tall man. Her eyes widened in shock.

  No.

  “Hayjen?” she whispered.

  “I’m here,” he panted as he opened up his arms.

  With a cry, she flung herself out of the man’s arms and slammed into him. Hayjen wrapped his arms around her, buried his face in her hair, and began to cry. He had held the pieces of himself together for so long that they crumbled into nothing when his sister sobbed in his arms.

  “Where have you been?” she cried. “I thought you were dead. I searched for months.”

  “Shhhh…” he soothed through his own tears. “I’m here, I’m alright.”

  “I thought you had left me like papa and mum.”

  “Never,” he choked out. “I’ll never leave you.”

  Gwen pulled back, tears glistening in her hazel eyes. “Are you okay?” Her hands smoothed down his arms and then up to the tears on his cheeks.

  Hayjen stared at his sister, his only family in the world. She kept him grounded. He’d survi
ved many things, because he had known he needed to get back to her. “I’m okay, just happy I found you.”

  She clasped his hands. “Did you go by the old house?”

  He nodded.

  A smile bloomed across her face. “Helva and Edwin?”

  Her smile pulled one from him. “Who else?”

  A light-hearted laugh tumbled from her that eased all the tension in him. Gwen was safe. She was happy. He was home. It would be okay.

  A large hand settled onto Gwen’s shoulder. Hayjen’s eyes narrowed as he met the moss- green eyes of Colm Blackwell. They crinkled as he smiled at Hayjen. Why was he smiling? Gwen cleared her throat, pulling his attention from the boy he faintly remembered. She blushed as she met Hayjen’s gaze. His eyes jumped back to the smiling man and back again to his sister. No.

  “Hayjen, you know Colm Blackwell,” she paused, “my betrothed.”

  Hayjen opened his mouth and closed it and kept staring at the damn hand sitting on his sister’s shoulder. Betrothed? “How?” he asked stupidly.

  “The traditional way, you know. He asked, I said yes,” Gwen joked.

  His spine straightened. “Now is not the time to joke.”

  “Now’s the perfect time. You came back from the dead.”

  He blew out a breath, trying to control the frustration and confusion that bubbled just beneath his surface. Nothing was right. Something was wrong with him. He should be happy for her, not feeling betrayed. “Could we speak outside?”

  Gwen looked to Colm—the interloper, Hayjen thought.

  He dropped a kiss on top of his sister’s head. “Go spend time with your brother. I’ll tell papa we have another guest.”

  “Thank you,” Gwen whispered before taking his hand and leading him out of the forge.

  They walked around the building to where the forest came right up to the edge of the backyard. Hayjen pulled his hand from hers and stared at his sister. “What the bloody hell, Gwen? What is going on?”

  “Let me explain.”

  “Please do.”

  “I’ve always liked Colm and his father.”

  “I can see that.”

  “When you disappeared, there weren’t any who could take me in, so I needed a job. Colm’s father Joseph had taken sick and they needed someone to help take care of the customers. I approached them and they gave me the job.”

  “Okay. What about the betrothal?”

  Gwen scowled at him. “I haven’t gotten that far. You need to calm down.”

  Hayjen took a deep breath. He did need to calm down.

  “Thank you. I began working in the forge and they paid me as well as they could. I traded some of my needlework for things I needed and lived as carefully as I could, but it wasn’t enough to keep our home. I looked for other places to live, but no one would lease to a single woman of no means. I had nowhere to go.”

  His throat tightened. “Surely Helva and Edwin would have taken you in.”

  “They could barely take care of themselves. As it was, I was taking baskets of food to them so they didn’t starve.”

  Gwen had such a generous heart. “Were you at least feeding yourself?”

  “Yes.”

  He raised a brow. Hayjen knew his sister better than that. “You gave them your food.”

  She offered him a lopsided smile. “They took us in when mum and papa died. They had nothing and yet they took care of us until you found us a place to live. I would never let them go without when it was in my power to help. You would have done the same thing.”

  “I understand, Gwen. But at what cost?” He ran his hand through his hair. “You had to sell yourself. I’m so sorry.”

  His sister gasped, looking like he had slapped her. “What happened to you? Surely you’re not my brother. He would never say something like that to me.”

  He rubbed his eyes with his fists, angry that he had let something like that out of his mouth. “I’m sorry, sis. I didn’t mean it.”

  “I know.” She touched his arm and stared up into his eyes. “The Blackwells offered a home when I had none. Nothing improper happened, despite the rumors floating around.” Her face hardened. “My reputation was ruined the moment I stepped through their door.”

  “Did you accept a proposal to save your reputation?”

  “No.” Gwen shook her head. “The Blackwells have been very kind to me. They became close friends easily. Each day Joseph grew weaker, and the workload was left to Colm. He was struggling to keep up with the commissions, caring for his father, and feeding all of us. I began to cook and care for Joseph so Colm could work in the forge.” His sister dropped her eyes. “They became my family.”

  Betrayal and hurt pooled in his gut. She was his only family and she’d found a new one while he fought his way back home. Hayjen knew he was being unreasonable, but he couldn’t help it. He’d been replaced. He swallowed and forced a smile on his face. “I’m glad you were well taken care of.”

  Gwen nodded, not looking at him. “They have been good to me. After a time, Colm and I grew closer. One day, he asked for my hand. We were already friends,” she chuckled, “and I was doing everything a wife would do anyway, so it was the right choice to make.”

  “Do you love him?” Hayjen asked. “If you don’t, if you want out, I’ll take you from this place right now.”

  She turned to him and touched his face, happiness shining in her eyes. “At first, I loved him like a friend, and we just fit. It was like breathing. But over time friendship grew into something so much more, something impossibly grand and wondrous.”

  The awe in her voice convinced him. Gwen didn’t beat around the bush. She knew people and knew her own mind. She’d always had good judgment. If she loved Colm, he was a good man. “He sounds like a man mum and papa would have approved of,” he said gruffly.

  “I think so, but I would have your approval.” Gwen smiled. “I mean—you did raise me.”

  His throat tightened. Carefully, he pulled Gwen towards him and kissed her forehead. “Well, I’ll have to get to know him, but from your assessment, he sounds like someone I will become good friends with.”

  “I hope so.”

  Gwen hugged him tightly as he stared over her head at the forest. His sister was betrothed. Soon she would belong to another man, have a family of her own. Hayjen couldn’t let go of what had happened to Mer. He closed his eyes as the pain of losing the little girl washed over him. He didn’t know what would happen when he attacked the captain but now he didn’t have to worry. Gwen would be taken care of.

  “What happened to you?”

  “It’s a long story that will no doubt keep you from sleep.”

  “That awful?” she squeaked, horror in her voice.

  Hayjen pulled back, chucking her on the chin. “It’s a story for tomorrow. Tonight, we celebrate our new family and returning to those we love.”

  Her lips thinned. “You can’t sweep this under the rug. I will keep asking.”

  A true smile adorned his face as he steered his sister back towards the forge. She was like a bloodhound when it came to something she wanted. At least that hadn’t changed. “That I don’t doubt.”

  “Come meet our family.”

  Family.

  Mer had been his family.

  Now she was gone. How long would this one last?

  Chapter Eight

  Hayjen

  He wanted to hate Colm on principle, but the man was a saint. He was soft-spoken with a wicked sense of humor. Hayjen studied the couple through the doorway as they washed dishes that night after supper. Gwen didn’t see the adoration in her betrothed eyes while she scrubbed the dishes, but Hayjen could. The man was completely in love with her. He smiled as Colm bumped Gwen with his shoulder, and she splashed him, causing them both to break out in a fit of giggles.

  “They’re well-matched, I think,” commented Joseph, the senior Blackwell.

  Hayjen peered at the older man. He was pale and sickly, shivering even though he was right next t
o the fire. The old man looked at him through tired eyes.

  “He’ll take good care of Gwen. I’ve taught him to treat women with respect, tenderness, love. Gwen is precious to us both. We’re lucky to have her in our lives.”

  “She brings warmth and light wherever she goes. You’re right on that account.”

  “Gwen is a blessing. I am overjoyed to welcome her into our family, and you as well even if you leave.”

  He straightened, staring at Joseph. “What makes you say that?”

  The old man shook his head, wearing a grim smile. “When my wife died, I was a shell of a man, then I grew angry and went looking for someone to blame.” Joseph met his eyes. “You’ve got darkness in your soul—anger, hate. I don’t know what happened to you, but you’re looking to deal out some blame.”

  “That’s very astute for one who’s only known me for half a day.”

  A harsh laugh rumbled in the senior Blackwell’s chest. “A man drowning in nightmares and vengeance is easy to spot.” He paused then continued. “May I offer you a piece of advice I wished someone would have shared with me?”

  “Share away.”

  “Vengeance does not bring peace.” Joseph’s emerald green eyes pierced him. “You think that avenging whatever plagues you will make the pain, the hurt, the guilt go away—but it doesn’t. It multiplies or leaves you completely empty and numb. It’s not a good way to live and it takes many years to claw yourself out of a grave you’ve dug for yourself.”

  Joseph Blackwell’s words reverberated inside him. Could he let the hurt, guilt, and pain go? The rage that burned beneath the surface said no. Hayjen clasped his hand loosely between his knees and scrutinized the old man. “And if this person deserves justice? If I can’t let go?”

  “Be ready to accept the consequences of your actions,” he said simply.

  Hayjen turned to watch his sister and her betrothed tease each other and laugh.

  “It’s good to hear her laugh so freely,” said Joseph. “It was a scarce sound when she first started working for us.”