The Siren, the General's Daughter Book One

by Breanna Hayse

  The Siren

  The General’s Daughter, Book One

  By

  BreannaHayse

  ©2013 by Blushing Books® and Breanna Hayse

  Copyright © 2013 by Blushing Books® and Breanna Hayse

  All rights reserved. No part of the book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher.

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  Hayse, Breanna

  The Siren

  The General’s Daughter, Book One

  eBook ISBN: 978-1-60968-974-2

  Cover Design by Korey Mae Johnson

  This book is intended for adults only. Spanking and other sexual activities represented in this book are fantasies only, intended for adults. Nothing in this book should be interpreted as Blushing Books' or the author's advocating any non-consensual spanking activity or the spanking of minors.

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  BreannaHayse

  “I write what I know. With few exceptions, my scenarios are pulled from either personal experience or observation. I've served overseas as an Intell Specialist in the USMC, work as a nurse, and have degrees in Biology (pre-med) and a masters in Psych. Specialty? Deviant behavior and alternative lifestyles, of course. I put all of this together and try to bring about a fun, unique and, hopefully, thought provoking reading experience.”

  Read her interview here:

  http://www.blushingbooks.com/blog/?p=848

  Visit her blog here:

  http://breannahayseromance.blogspot.com

  Don’t miss these exciting titles by Breanna Hayse and Blushing Books!

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  Chapter One

  “So, where did she go?” asked a very tired (and equally annoyed) unit commander as he leaned back in his large chair, fingers pressed together studying the young, handsome blond man standing before him.

  “I wish I knew, Sir.” Lt. Michael Quimby sighed, meeting the gaze of the dark brown eyes.

  Lt. General Joseph Quimby, M.D. pointed to a chair. “Sit, boy, you’re giving me a crick in the neck. You’re telling me you have no idea where your little sister disappeared to?”

  “That is exactly what I’m saying. Her crew told me that- and I quote- ‘she went for a swim’. That was three hours ago. She’s not responding to her transmitter either,” Michael responded, now looking as tired as his father.

  Dr. Quimby shook his head again. “I don’t know why I even bother giving her orders—she does whatever the hell she wants to. I knew it was a mistake to allow her a field commission at her age. She is too immature. You, at least, were responsible when you got yours.”

  Michael blushed, glancing at the floor. He and Samantha served as special ops officers and scientists onboard the U.S. Allegro—a research vessel that engaged in the development of military intelligence. Dr. Quimby, Military Intelligence and diving medical officer, was also sub-commander to his brother-in-law, Major General and oceanic physicist, Scott Jenkins. The siblings were exceptional, both graduating college with honors by the age of 15 and initiating post-graduate studies as Rhodes scholars. Michael’s specialty was oceanic physics and engineering, just completing his doctorates, while his sister’s was marine biology, oceanography and chemistry with a Master’s degree. Despite their recent ages of 18 and 22, they had been granted field commissions on their17th birthday. Due to their involvement with multiple country coastal commissions and search and rescue efforts, they were additionally granted diplomatic immunity.

  “Dad, you know what happens when she gets restless—she needs to fly. Since you wouldn’t authorize a helo, she dove instead.” Michael defended his sister even knowing that her unannounced swim was pure defiance to her father’s orders.

  Dr. Quimby glanced out the porthole over the ocean. “I never will get used to either of you jumping ship and swimming free. It’s not safe.” He sighed, tapping his fingers on the desk. He looked over into his son’s azure blue eyes. They were so much like his mothers and Scott’s. He missed her—she would know how to handle their spirited daughter. “Michael, I’m sorry, but we need to put a rein on her once and for all. Her challenging my instructions has gotten out of control and the men will lose respect for me if I don’t get a handle on it. She’s even worse since your uncle left on assignment.”

  “I agree. Dad, there are times that I wish…” he paused, hesitating to share his thoughts with his overprotective, and somewhat doting, father.

  “Go on,” Dr. Quimby ordered firmly as he observed his son’s body language. The poor boy was struggling as much as he was!

  “She’s really spoiled and you’ve been very lenient with her since the accident. I get it. But, it was simpler for us when she was little. I mean, I remember you or Scott would give her a good hard spanking and she would keep out of trouble for a couple of weeks. She’s forgotten that plus nearly every other boundary you used to enforce. I’m not trying to blame you. We all have been indulgent.”

  “I fully accept the responsibility for her behavior. You’re absolutely right. Regarding your reminder, believe me, Mike, I would love to be able to do that again, but she’s 18 now....”

  “So what? Scott still takes his ruler to her. Maybe a little humility is needed? Dad, you know I love her, she’s my best friend and partner. My life depends on her when we are out there, but seriously, how can I trust her not to brat at the wrong time? You have no idea how many times I’ve been tempted to lay it into her!” Michael looked frustrated, clenching his fists, his eyes hardening as he flexed his jaw.

  “You have your uncle’s ‘pissed off’ jaw twitch, kid. So, why didn’t you?”

  “She’s my
sister. We were never permitted to physically fight other than sparring and, well... I don’t know. I really didn’t consider it,” Michael admitted slumping in his chair. “Maybe I didn’t want to risk ticking you off. I’m smart enough not to mess with your temper.”

  “What about hers? She’s a force to be reckoned with,” Dr. Quimby smiled affectionately, pondering his youngest child’s feisty disposition. “Son, I trust you. And I trust you with her otherwise I would never have allowed this pairing. But you are correct that things have to change and I doubt our girl will be very happy about it. It seems like a little bit of old-fashioned discipline is back in order.” He sounded sad.

  “Are you serious?” Michael asked.

  Dr. Quimby stood, his broad shouldered six feet three inch frame looming over the desk. “Yes. Unfortunately, it appears that our young lady is going to be finding herself over my knee once again in a very short time. Yours as well, if needed. You have my permission.”

  Michael stood to follow his father out. There was no mistaking the family resemblance, except for the coloring. Michael’s dark blond hair and bright blue eyes (from his mother) contrasted with that of his father’s rich brown hair (with some greying at the temples) and warm brown eyes. Both were of the same height, broad chested and athletic, serious, self-controlled, and with hearty laughs and intense stares. Single minded and on a mission, they left together to try to track down their female family member.

  ***

  Clinging to the dorsal fin of the young orca as they raced vertically to the surface, Samantha Quimby embraced the feel of the frigid water as it jetted over her cheeks. There was a sharp impact of air as the two cleanly sliced the waves in a high breach and were suspended mid-flight just before the plummet back to the sea. Sam dove gracefully away from the orca’s body as she was launched, both exhilarated and euphoric as she flew freely before she returned to the salty depths. She lost all track of time and distance as she swam the open ocean with her constant companion, Ton.

  Out of habit, she spoke aloud to the young whale. “This was what I needed today, thank you. That lab is so stuffy.” The neuroband communicated confusion at the verbal statement. Sam carefully imaged a small, stagnant pool with a floppy dorsal fin, and felt sadness returned to her. Patting the smooth snout affectionately, she imaged a second thought of an opening that allowed escape from the same pool, receiving a sense of the whale’s relief.

  The device she wore around her neck was the dual accomplishment of the two younger Quimbys. It linked directly to her brainwaves to transmit the communication of senses to cetaceans within a 50 miles radius, thus allowing the human and cetacean mind to converge through imaging and primary senses. Combined with her extraordinary and unique ‘situation’, Sam was the closest living being to a fictional mermaid.

  ***

  Michael leaned over the ship’s railing as he watched the grey waves lap the hull. His heart still pounded fearfully as he recalled almost losing his beloved baby sister to the event of only four months past. The two had been on assignment collecting specimens for a research project in the Marianas Trench and testing the experimental diving equipment they wore. It was a simple, routine task until they crossed paths with a small, unmarked submersible. Without warning, Michael was captured in an electric net and pulled into the vessel. Unable to follow the sub’s slow descent into the trench, his sister raced up to the ship. She disregarded all safety procedures as she shoved the crew out of the way, snatched the untested Beta Project helmet and placed it over her head before plunging back over the side. Designed by the neuroscience team, the noxious gas was hypothesized to enable deep-water dives without compression or nitrogen issues.

  Blackness engulfed her as she swam down past the formulated wetsuit’s tolerance, the weight of the ocean atmosphere starting to slowly crush her body. She would not—could not—fail. Michael was in danger. She ignored the excruciating pain of her compressed organs as she exhaled the remainder of air from her lungs. She finally located the vessel just below her and, using her neuroband, called the one animal who could tolerate the depth—the blue whale. Fighting the pain as the pressure took its toll, Sam guided the enormous animal with her mind. The whale swept under the submersible and pushed it to surface without effort. Michael was recovered and the criminals held under custody. Sam, however, was nowhere to be found.

  Michael tried to calm his nerves as he recalled the search for his sister. He had been restricted to the compression tanks for five days and only received sporadic information as it was delivered. Despair had filled him, and being unable to join the Recon team was pure torture. They had almost given up hope when one of the men caught site of a large pod of humpbacks breaching unusually close to an island.

  Nearly three days after her disappearance, Sam was found five feet underwater, unconscious and, unexpectedly, very much alive! The question was, how? She was unable to tolerate more than a few minutes exposed to air before her lips turned blue in need of oxygen and gasping began. The nearest hospital containing the required facilities was 20 hours away via helicopter and deemed too risky to attempt with the possibility of her suffocating mid-transport. Specialists arrived that same evening, but none could determine the cause or cure to Sam’s respiratory problem. Surgical repair to her extensive internal injuries was performed subsurface. She healed physically at a remarkable speed but remained in a comatose state, completely submerged and hooked to IVs for two weeks. Michael sat next to her tank for hours as his brilliant mind computed different scenarios and solutions. One afternoon, while observing the unusual amount of cetaceans crowding the ship’s hull, he happened upon an idea and approached his father with the risky suggestion. Desperate, and with no other solution, the girl was kept submerged while placed on bypass. Her lungs were drained, then inflated followed by intubation under negative pressure. It was nothing less than a miracle, but it worked.

  One week later, Sam was up and about and breathing without difficulty. Michael observed her staying submerged for inordinate amounts of time beyond her regular capacity to hold her breath. When she stubbornly refused to leave the bottom of the test tank for over an hour, he called his father in as a witness. Testing revealed that the helmet’s gases, when placed under the pressure of the trench, had altered her chemical structure. She was now considered truly amphibious with her skin acting as a gill membrane to filter oxygen from the water. With specialized contact lenses and body wear, Sam had complete freedom of the open sea.

  “Ready to go, son? Please be careful,” the man asked, jarring Michael from his memories.

  “Yes, Sir. I’ll be back as soon as I can.” Michael said, joining the unhappy embrace with his miserable parent. Well, he thought, things are going to change for all of us, baby sister. You left us with no choice. I wish Uncle Scott were here. He makes things so much easier for Dad.

  Michael’s long body sliced powerfully down through the waves as he dove off deck. He adjusted the face mask and took a deep breath. This was part of the top secret EDS- Experimental Diving System- designed by his engineering team and allowed the unlimited flow of oxygen through the small side ‘gills’ of the mask. The other EDS devices included motorized boots with propulsion capabilities of up to 25mph, headgear that provided ear protection from pressure while promoting full audio-communications, and the wetsuit designed to insulate down to 10 degrees and strong enough to deflect a shark bite while remaining highly sensitive to stimulation. He was almost impenetrable now to any kind of natural danger.

  ***

  He was never able to explain the bond he shared with Sam, but he had always been able to sense her whereabouts. When he was younger, his uncle used to tell him that it was his mother’s spirit who kept him alert to his little sister’s antics. He believed the stories, even now allowing his senses to guide him to her.

  Eyes closed to the sunshine as she laid across Ton’s back, Sam finally felt relaxed enough to be quiet. Her underwater ‘body guards’ started to flash warnings and images to her
mind, depicting a territorial scuffle with her brother. Hmmm, Michael was hot on her trail and angry. So what else was new? “Might as well face the music,” she said aloud to her ‘lounger’ as she rubbed his side gently before rolling off. She quickly zoomed to a nearby buoy and climbed up. She was finger combing her hip-long auburn hair with her blue-gray eyes half-closed in the sunlight when her brother found her.

  Michael studied her for a moment, suddenly noticing her perfectly chiseled face, full lips and high cheekbones. What happened to that skinny little tom-boy with the scabby knees and pig-tails? No wonder the men buckled at the knees when she approached.

  “Sammi, are you ok?” he asked, wedging himself next to her.

  She flashed him a lazy smile and batted her long, thick lashes. “Of course I am, silly. You would know if there was ever anything wrong. Why did you come out?”

  Michael sighed, shaking his head. “Dad has had it with you, kiddo. He told you not to leave the ship without his permission.”

  “Oh come on,” the girl shrugged, tapping her brother’s leg with her foot, “he knows I’m safe out here. Besides, I needed to clear my head. I can’t work cooped up in a lab.”

  Michael was silent, contemplating his conversation with their father. No, let him handle it this time. He took her small hand in his large, calloused one. He never had gotten used to how tiny she was compared to the Quimby men as she stood no taller than five feet two inches and weighed no more than 105 pounds when wet. Even so, she was strong as an ox with a temper of a honey badger, exceedingly fast, and gave him a good solid run for his money when sparring in martial arts. Yes, she could take very good care of herself. Still….