Soul Breather (21st Century Sirens Book 1)

by T Stedman

  She nodded and dove down. She realised there was a glass top to the tank with a hatch. She guessed the guard would close it over her when she went down; terrifying for anyone not confident in breathing under water.

  Gradually she swam down looking for the girl. She had quite a capacity for holding her breath and could have probably completed the test on just one lungful of air but she knew what they’d brought her here to see, so she decided to get it over with.

  She circled her arms so she sank slowly to the bottom to a kneeling position. She made sure she was facing the black expanse, which she knew was the pane of glass. Nothing much was visible through it except a few dark shapes and dim lanterns.

  She concentrated and slowed her pulse down and gradually let the water into her lungs, closing her eyes as she did so. Her gills opened with a jolt and she opened her eyes and resumed her search of the tank.

  There she was, huddled in the far corner, small and fearful. She had white blond, straight hair, and her frightened wide eyes were the palest cornflower blue, with large dilated pupils.

  Gradually she moved closer so as not to scare the girl. Soothing her, she stroked her hair and used encouraging gestures to get her onto her feet.

  She pulled her up to the glass and banged roughly on it with the heel of her hand, and then she pointed her thumb upwards and signalled to get them out.

  ***

  Dante watched riveted as she swam to the bottom of the tank. The moment she let the water in was obvious and fascinating. He watched as she slowly opened her eyes. Her pupils had become huge; transforming her face to an otherworldly beauty.

  When she’d smacked the glass he’d seen enough. “Let her out.”

  His brother Stephan agreed with relief. “This whole fucking thing is barbaric, get them out of there.”

  Christian conceded. “Very well. See that they don’t leave the house, otherwise they will have to be confined here.”

  Both Stephan and Dante rushed up the steps to the pool surface and helped the girls get out of the pool. Tia was helping the other one get the water up out of her lungs, which she did with a lot of coughing, retching and gulping of air. Tia expelled hers quickly and efficiently.

  Dante wrapped a towel around her shoulders and she looked at him gratefully with still transformed disk-like eyes. She squinted; the light obviously hurt after the darkness of the water. “Come with me,” he said. “You’ll be safe in my room.”

  Chapter 13

  She allowed him to lead her, vaguely aware that Stephan was following with the other girl – her sister. She could hear him whispering affectionate words, which she couldn’t make out.

  Her heart ached for Jay. He seemed a million miles away. Empty and low, she put one foot in front of the other.

  When they reached his room, her overnight bag had already been delivered there. It was a large room dominated by a large bed. It had a chaise lounge under the window and a door leading off to what she guessed was an en-suite bathroom, to the left of the bed.

  She stood in the middle of the room and waited.

  “Please feel free to shower the pool water off. It’s just through there,” he said, pointing towards the bathroom.

  She nodded, picked up her bag and headed straight for it. Shit, no lock on the door, so she couldn’t barricade herself in. She slumped onto the edge of the bath. What was the point? He was to be her husband and soon. She wasn’t unaffected by him though, probably because he was Jay’s best friend. She was bound to like someone that Jay liked.

  She showered quickly and brushed her teeth then dressed quickly into some slouchy baggy trousers and a t-shirt.

  When she came out someone was delivering a tray with breakfast stuff on it. Dante thanked the woman, who looked like a maid, took the tray from her and put it on the bedside table.

  “I didn’t know what to get you so I ordered a few things. There is some hot lemon and honey for your throat,” he said, offering her a steaming mug.

  She looked at him bewildered, swallowing the lump in her throat and shaking her head as if to snap herself out of it.

  “It’s okay, I know you can’t talk.”

  Wow, no-one had ever known what she needed before. The hot lemon soothed as it went down and she closed her eyes as she drank. She could sense him watching her the whole time.

  “Please sit, I doubt you ate much this morning.”

  She sat on the edge of the bed and looked at the tray. It had a mixed selection of fruits, croissant, poached salmon and scrambled eggs. She looked over at him. She must have looked bewildered as he spoke unprompted.

  “Intolerance to meat is common in our people.”

  She didn’t know why she had such a lump in her throat but she did. She picked up a croissant, nibbled and fought back her emotion.

  He smiled at her kindly. “Look just eat what you want and sleep a bit. I bet you didn’t sleep much last night?”

  She shook her head and thought of her night in Jay’s arms with a bone-deep ache.

  “I’ll just sit over here.” And he pointed to the chaise lounge. “I can’t leave you alone but I can give you some space until you wake. Then we can talk.”

  She nodded gratefully again.

  After nibbling on some of the food, she curled up in a ball on the bed and faced him. Her mind drifted as she ran her eyes over him. He watched her back as if he was allowing her to examine him. Never in a million years would she have put him as Marco’s brother. He was sexy and dark and mysterious. Marco was fair, cunning and vain.

  Her uncle had told her that all the royals were related, making her his cousin. So this guy was the one of the purest bred Atlanteans – after her uncle she’d met.

  Was he so different from other men? She was certainly physically attracted. A pang of guilt stabbed her after that thought. Still, I’ll see Jay tomorrow, she thought, as her eyes slowly closed.

  ***

  Her mind came online to gravelly male whispers. It took her a second to remember where she was. God, she had gone right off into a deep sleep, which was unusual for her.

  “You’re awake!” Dante said, after closing the door. “That was Stephan, we can meet with them later if you want so you can get to know your sister.”

  She sat up and grabbed the water left next to her on the bedside table and swallowed a large mouthful. “Thanks. What’s the time?” She said, between glugs.

  “1.30 p.m; you’ve been out a couple of hours. Do you want to go for a walk? I can show you about the place.”

  He seemed really friendly. She supposed it was better than staying cooped up. “Okay,” she said, and stood up and began rooting around in her bag for something to put on.

  “Here,” he said, chucking a grey sweatshirt at her.

  The act of familiarity made her pause. “Thank you,” she said quietly. She held the oversized top up against her and then pulled it over her head. It went half way down her thighs and smelled totally of him. Citrusy and male. Stop! She tried to shake the feelings it evoked. A pain hit the pit of her stomach again.

  “Come.” And he held the door open for her.

  She pulled her trainers on and quickly walked past him out of the room and without looking at him.

  Thankfully, he led her down a back staircase so they wouldn’t see anyone. It took them through the kitchen where he greeted a cheery Mrs McNally, the cook. “This is Tia, April.” He said, warmly.

  The cook did a little bob at the knees, “Miss.”

  “Hello.” Tia replied.

  “Come Tia, lets go outside.”

  When they got outside, “Is she … you know, Atlantean?” Tia asked.

  “Everyone who works here is.” He led her down some stone steps and onto a large lawn, which swept down to a river. They walked slowly and quietly.

  Tia pulled leaves off the odd bush as she went, deep in thought.

  “You can ask me anything, you know,” he said, after a while, and looked at her and smiled.

  She was trying not
to like him so much. “That was cruel this morning,” she blurted. “Not for me, I mean, but the other one.” Her face was stony.

  “I know, it was cruel for you too.” He grew serious. “But if it’s any consolation, the worst test is to come and it’s for me.”

  She looked at him shocked. “What do you mean?”

  He stopped, turned to her and picked up both her hands in his and looked deep into her eyes. “They will marry us within twenty four hours, Tia. Do you know what it entails?”

  She shook her head and looked at him with concern.

  “I can’t help you, it’s against the rules. But I think it’s safe to say that we both go into the water and it will be up to you whether we both come out.”

  “What?” she said, in horror. “No-one said anything about hurting anyone.”

  “It’s part of the ceremony. If I live it means you have accepted me.”

  She let go of one of his hands and they continued to walk. He was as much a victim in this as she was.

  “What’s all the ring business about?” she said, in an attempt to lighten the mood.

  He held up his hand so she could look at it closely. “All Atlantean princes are given these. They are called divining rings; forged to tell us when we get near a Siren.”

  “Yours is a different colour to your brothers’.”

  “Only when I’m near you. It is white when I’m not and so are my brothers’. It sounds really corny when I say it out loud but it shows me you are the most compatible as a mate.”

  Her eyebrows drew together. “What’s that supposed to mean … genetically, sexually, mentally?”

  He laughed ruefully. “Good point. I haven’t the foggiest.”

  “Because I’d hate to disappoint you but I’ve not been that great in the … you know … sex department.”

  “Neither have I.”

  “You haven’t?” she stopped walking and searched his face.

  He shook his head and sighed. “No, there has always been something missing. When I have managed to get it on, I had to drink gallons of alcohol, which is fuckin’ counter-productive, you know, to bring my core temperature down, and I had to take cold showers, and shit like that. Then I end up drinking more because it all feels … you know … wrong somehow?”

  Surprised, she studied his face. “You’re like that? I get so overheated I can fit … try that for embarrassing.”

  He nodded and laughed. “That makes sense. Don’t you see Tia, it’s all supposed to take place under water for us?” he said, and took hold of her by the tops of the arms.

  She was quiet as she looked at him and thought about it. God, it all made sense. “So the purer your blood …”

  “The more you’d need to do it under the water,” he finished for her. “And you are half royal Atlantean and half Murr.”

  “I see,” she said, and resumed walking again. “Tell me about the Murrs?”

  “They are our cousins, the Borge family, and their descendants. I haven’t met any yet, but they live under water; as crazy as that sounds.”

  “Can they walk on land?”

  “I think for short periods, I think that’s where the tales of mermaids come from.”

  “Oh,” she said, letting the new information sink in.

  Just then Marco trotted up to them on a large, lively, chestnut horse. “Why, it’s the love birds. Spoken to Jay yet, Dante?”

  “I’m seeing him tomorrow,” Dante replied.

  Marco’s horse jogged and spun round eager to be off. Marco gave a huge grin to Tia, laughed and then galloped off.

  “Your brother is such a dick. Thank God I’m not destined to be with him.”

  “I knew I’d like you,” he said, as he playfully bumped into her and smiled. “Let’s find Stephan.”

  ***

  They found Stephan with Joselle, having tea in the large conservatory. It was bright and warm with plants everywhere, and comfy chairs arranged around a white wrought iron and glass table. They both looked up as Tia and Dante entered from the garden.

  “Stephan,” Dante said, “can we join you?”

  “Of course,” Stephan said, and held out his hand towards the empty chairs at the table.

  “Joselle, isn’t it? This is your sister, Tia,” Dante said, as he pulled out a chair for Tia to sit.

  She smiled in way of thanks.

  Tia looked over at Stephan and Joselle who hadn’t let go of each other’s hands. Tia studied her. She was so pale. She looked as though the colour had been sucked out of her, and so delicate like she’d brake; nothing like herself.

  “Where’d they hide you?” she said.

  “Pardon?” Joselle said, in a thick accent.

  Tia looked at Stephan for help who translated in English. “She asked where you grew up?”

  Joselle looked at her. “Russia. I was put in a strict dance regime with Russian Ballet company,” all rolling r’s.

  Tia just nodded.

  “You?” Joselle asked her back.

  “Foster care … London,” she added.

  “What about music … how it come with you?”

  She looked sideways at Dante for help.

  Dante thought for a moment. “Sirens were used in the past for their luring singing voice; that’s why you would have been banned from singing. She was asking if your gift with music came out another way?”

  “Oh … I’m a house music DJ,” she directed back at Joselle.

  Dante grinned.

  “House DJ?” Joselle looked at Stephan again.

  “Night club music.”

  “Da, da,” Joselle said, with understanding. Then looked from Dante to Tia, “You are fortunate,” she said, with a sneer on her face.

  Tia sat up a bit pissed off. “How … what do you mean?”

  “You have purple ring and will marry.” Joselle looked back at Stephan and held up his hands and kissed them.

  “Listen,” Tia said, “I only just met him. I’m in a relationship with one of my Protectors.” It sort of came out involuntarily; she felt sorry the minute she’d said it in front of Dante. “Sorry,” she said looking at him, “I didn’t mean to be insensitive.”

  “Protector?” Joselle asked, looking back at Stephan.

  “Don’t you have any?” Tia said, surprised.

  Dante laughed slightly, his eyes narrowed. “Well how many do you have?”

  “Three.”

  Dante ignored Joselle’s question entirely, but turned in his chair and stared at Tia. He was vaguely aware of Stephan answering her as he continued to watch Tia closely.

  “What is Common Atlantean?” Joselle persisted.

  “For fuck sake. Not royal!” Dante said, loudly, starting to lose his patience – still looking at Tia. “I didn’t know you were in a relationship?” he said, lowering his tone to almost a whisper.

  Tia’s brows met as she just looked at him confused. “Marco didn’t tell you?” She could feel herself starting to panic.

  Dante closed his eyes, sighed and shook his head.

  He was oblivious. That meant he had no idea it was Jay. Oh my God. Jay thinks he knows. Her face flushed as the implications hit her.

  “What’s the matter?” Dante said, his voice low.

  “Oh nothing … I thought you knew that’s all.” She looked around at the three sets of eyes on her. “Why can’t you two marry then?” she said, trying to change the subject.

  Joselle held up Stephan’s ring hand, “No purple ring, only green.”

  “No, hang on,” Dante interrupted, steering the conversation back. “How serious is this relationship?”

  Fuck, he was starting to look angry. “I … I’m sorry, I thought you knew.”

  “That fucker, Marco,” he said through gritted teeth, glowering at Stephan. Then he stood so suddenly that he knocked his chair over backwards.

  Tia saw the anger boiling up in him. She was shocked and a bit scared; not that she hadn’t seen her fair share of violence in her life, but she felt sever
ely out of her comfort zone.

  She was grateful when Stephan came round the table to shield Joselle and try to calm him down. They were all complete strangers to her. She didn’t know what he was capable of.

  “He probably forgot or didn’t realise Dante,” Stephan reasoned.

  “Oh, he fucking realised alright – the prick.”

  His reaction was terrifying. She didn’t understand the whys, but she sure as hell wasn’t going to tell him who it was. “He knows I’m going to marry you. It’s okay,” she reasoned.

  Dante stopped his train of thought, narrowed his eyes and looked over at her in disbelief. “Tell me this … how can I trust you to save my life, when you want someone else?” He broke away from Stephan’s grip on his upper arms and strode back out into the garden towards the house.

  “It’s okay, I’ll go,” she said to Stephan, and ran after him.

  “Dante. Dante!” she called.

  She was forced to run past him and in front of him to stop him and put her hand out onto his chest. “Stop, please.”

  He used his weight to step right in to her personal space as if to test her, and glared down at her. His eyes seemed to smoulder as they bore into hers. He grabbed her upper arms and put his mouth on hers in one swift move.

  The move shocked her but the hand she had pushed into his chest gradually weakened. Slowly she allowed him to pull her to him. His arms went around her back and hers slipped around his waist.

  She knew she should stop it but her body seemed to take on a life of its own. She found herself parting her lips allowing him to take advantage and push his tongue into her mouth. Not gently but invading; defying her to stop him, and God help her she could not. Just as she thought she could muster the strength to pull her hands back around and push him away she found them reaching up into his beautiful soft wavy hair and pulling him to her tightly.

  It was he who broke the contact of their mouths for a moment to look into her eyes. He was breathing deeply. “Do you feel it building in you?”

  She did, but how did he know? That glow in her chest that got hotter and hotter. Her face was on fire and so was his. She ran her fingers over the perspiration on his brow. “We are the same,” she said, in wonder. For so long she had felt a freak. So totally alone, with nobody to share her experience with, or who could understand an ounce of what she felt. But this man felt it all.