Siren's Call (Dark Seas)

by Debbie Herbert

  Adriana didn’t budge. “Leave, Lily. You don’t have to stay here and put yourself in danger. Come out to sea and take your place where you belong.” She stepped forward, face softening. “You can have your pick of any merman.”

  Her mother would never understand. She wanted to be joined heart and soul with a man, wanted someone to share her life with. With mermen, sex was enjoyed and encouraged for the propagation of the species. That held little appeal to Lily. She saw what Shelly and Jet had and it was far superior to pair bonding with a merman for an occasional mating, the spawning of merbabies and then raising the increasing fry of merbabies alone.

  If Adriana hadn’t wanted her to live in the bayou, she should have kept her daughters at sea more growing up. Although, to be fair, her mother had done it to try to protect Jet from discovering some ugly truths about her true biological parentage.

  It had almost worked. Lily hadn’t known that Jet was actually her cousin, not her sister, until last year. Even though the tragic past had been dredged up, Lily would always consider Jet a true sister in every way.

  “Maybe later I’ll return and find a suitable merman.” Lily drew a circle in the sand with the tip of her big toe. She was too emotionally on edge to have this confrontation with her mom right now. If things didn’t work out with Nash...life at sea was a possibility. No sense in drawing a line in the sand over a man who probably was going to leave her by summer’s end. “Give me a few more weeks. You want to stay until Jet’s baby is born anyway.”

  Adriana placed her hands on Lily’s shoulders. “I can’t make you go with me like I did when you were a child. But at least promise me you’ll be careful.”

  “At the first hint of danger I’ll head out to sea,” Lily promised, fingers crossed behind her back. “Now y’all need to scoot before Nash comes searching for me. I’ll hide more clothes for you again in the same hidey-hole in case you return underwater.”

  One by one, they each disappeared behind a rock, disrobed and dove underwater. Lily cast anxious backward glances, sure Nash would pop up at any moment.

  “I’ll come back later with your paint supplies,” Shelly called out from behind the rock. Three distinct splashes and the island was a party of two again—just her and Nash.

  Everything was so much simpler with the outside world held at bay. No murders, no meddling family, no job assignments to foreign lands. Lily picked her way back to the lodge to fetch the sketchpad and pencils she’d brought last night. Being caught lying unsettled her in a way it never had before. She was used to lying about everything to the land dwellers and even kept a tiny part of herself hidden from her family. For all they knew, she reveled in her siren powers, enjoyed the adoration of the merfolk and was amused by her dalliances with the local bayou men.

  None of that was true now that Nashoba Bowman had returned.

  * * *

  Lily quickened her pace, eager to draw. She’d immerse herself in art and forget Nash’s condemning stare when she’d entered the lodge. She’d been having such fun, too, until she’d spotted him on shore. Splashing, diving, the water invigorating and salty, her mer fin whipping in the Gulf current.

  Impossible to live on the island for days or weeks without swimming. Lily resolved to be very, very careful until she could tell him the truth. When Nash fell asleep in the evenings, she’d slip out in the moonlight and swim under its silver orb, connected even deeper to the tide by the pull of the moon. In some ways, Mom was right. She and Nash were opposites. He was of the sun, dark golden and grounded to the earth, whereas she was of the moon, moored to the fluid sea and bewitched by moonbeams.

  In no time, Lily gathered the needed supplies and one of the rolled woolen blankets Nash kept on the porch. She meandered down narrow trails with blizzards of cypress, pine and saw palmetto. That was one of the things she loved about the bayou—the varied landscape. You had the white sandy shore and the sea, but you also had green woodland heavily scented with pine that mixed with sea brine in the breeze.

  The millions of mosquitoes and gnats were the only undesirable trade-off for such paradise.

  Lily found a patch of Southern seashore mallow in full bloom cheerfully waving their delicate pink petals surrounding a sunshine-yellow corolla. She spread out the blanket and opened the sketchpad. Such a shame she hadn’t packed colored pencils last night, but she’d make do with her pencils and paint a watercolor of the flowers later.

  “What you got there?”

  Her heart exploded, pulsing and pounding danger danger danger to her brain and limbs. The instinctual command to flee was immediate and she lurched forward, scrambling to her feet.

  A strong hand gripped her right forearm, preventing escape.

  “It’s me, Lily. Nash.”

  She drew ragged, painful breaths. She was safe. Last night had rattled her more than she’d realized.

  “Hey, I’m sorry.” Nash wrapped his arms around her waist from behind and she melted against him, wilting like an uprooted flower needing to bury into soil.

  “I’ve got you,” he whispered into her hair.

  “I thought you were angry with me.”

  “I am. But I’d never scare you on purpose. What kind of man do you think I am?”

  “A good one. The best,” she said softly. Lily closed her eyes and enjoyed the heat of his skin pressed against her back, the comfort of his arms circling her waist.

  “So why did you lie about swimming?”

  Nash wasn’t going to let this go. Lily swallowed hard. Normally, lying was no problem, something necessary to keep hidden in the bayou and protect her family and all the other merfolk—what remained of her kind. But now the unspoken lies soured on her tongue and she struggled to explain with at least a modicum of truth.

  “I only swim with my family,” she offered lamely.

  “Why?”

  Damn. As if she didn’t know that would be the next question. “I’m a terrible swimmer—all leg kicks and thrashing arms. It’s embarrassing.”

  “Hmm.”

  The vibration of his voice rumbled deep in his chest and radiated the length of her spine.

  “But you didn’t have to go in deep. I only wanted—”

  “Sorry,” she interrupted, turning in to him and kissing the hollow of his throat. “What were you doing naked out there this morning? Not that I’m complaining.”

  Nash studied her and a muscle in his jaw twitched. Lily’s breath stilled. Would he let the matter go for now?

  “I know what you’re doing.” His voice was husky, thick with either anger or desire. Possibly both, Lily wasn’t sure.

  “Did it work?” She gave him her most dazzling smile.

  He didn’t return her smile. “I’ll let it go for a moment.” Nash guided her shoulders forward and dipped his chin onto the top of her scalp. “To answer your question, when I was young, my grandfather and I had this dawn ritual where we greeted the sun and thanked the earth for its blessings.”

  “Naked?”

  “No.” He chuckled. “I’m not sure why I took off my pants. It seemed the right thing to do at the moment. When Grandfather and I used to do this, we’d open our medicine bags for the sun to bless the contents and sometimes we’d chant or dance to the beat of his drumming.”

  “Like a moving prayer,” she whispered. Exactly how she felt during moonlit swims. “I know what you mean.”

  A comfortable silence descended, and, emboldened, Lily ventured another question. “Sometimes, like today with the seagull, I imagine birds are talking to you. Really talking.”

  His hands, which had been stroking her forearms, stilled. She hardly dared breathed while she awaited his response.

  “And if I told you they were?”

  “I’d believe you.”

  His heart thudded against her back and his muscles tensed.
“They do.”

  The admission hadn’t been easy for him. “Thank you,” she said, encouraged he felt safe to open up. “One last question. What do they say?”

  “I knew that was coming,” he said ruefully. “Actually, this is new to me and it’s only happened twice. Both times while I was with you.”

  “Go on,” she breathed.

  “They say you are of two spirits.”

  Chapter 12

  Two spirits.

  Lily pondered the mysterious words, her spine tingling with wonder. Two spirits—as in she was two-faced? A liar? That she was, and so much more. And to think all this time she’d never suspected her secret would be betrayed while she walked on land, least of all by one of earth’s creatures. Instead, she’d always feared being spotted at sea by human eyes.

  “What does it mean?” Nash asked. “Assuming, of course, you don’t think I’m crazy and hearing imaginary voices.”

  “No!” Lily moved out of his arms, sat cross-legged on the blanket, took hold of his hands and drew him down with her. “You’re the sanest person I’ve ever met.”

  He ran a hand through his long hair. “Have to admit, I’ve doubted myself at times, especially since coming here. Everything’s intensified.”

  “Your connection to the land and animals?” she guessed.

  Nash stared. “You’ve always intuited it, haven’t you?”

  “I sensed it when we were kids. The way you would grow still and cock your head, as if listening to whispers in the wind. I knew it for sure the time you found me when I was lost. How did you do it?” She shuddered, remembering the horror of the day and night she’d spent alone in the woods.

  She’d gone looking for Nash and, not finding him in their usual hangouts, had meandered down obscure trails until she’d realized nothing was familiar, or rather everything was the same in all directions. Merely clumps of pine trees and knotty dirt trails with no distinguishing marks. She’d tried to imagine what Nash would do if he were lost. Inspired, she’d ripped one of her socks with a sharp rock and unraveled the threads, deciding the best course was to pick a direction and stay with it. She’d walked along and, every few feet, tied a string on a low-lying branch to mark her progress.

  Hours later, exhausted, thirsty and increasingly panicked, Lily spotted one of the knotted cotton strings and realized she’d been walking in circles. Defeated, she strategized that the next best course of action was to stay put. She built a bed of pine needles and sat to wait for help.

  And waited, waited, waited. Until the sun had sunk below the horizon and complete darkness had shrouded the woods. The only flicker of light came from fireflies randomly darting above dense shrubbery. If only she’d had a jar, she could have collected the fireflies and kept them encased by her side like a lantern in the gloomy pitch. She’d imagined the woods would be a quiet place, but she’d been wrong. Owls hooted and insects buzzed. Unseen animals scrambled about. Lily had forgotten her hunger and thirst as fear filled her stomach and lungs.

  The worst had been an eerie high-pitched caterwauling. Bobcats weren’t unheard of in those parts. What if one stalked in the trees above, ready to pounce the instant she drifted to sleep? Lily had hoped the wail was from the ginger-colored feral cats that peppered the bayou. Nevertheless, she’d resolved to stay awake.

  She fought sleep, remembering Sam and Nash’s Choctaw tales of mysterious beings in the bayou. If there were supernatural creatures roaming the forest, she hoped it was only the Little People—Kowi Anukasha—known for their mischievous pranks, like throwing sticks to try to scare humans. They meant no real harm. Unlike the Hoklonote, an evil spirit who could assume any shape and read people’s thoughts. If so, he’d know she was alone and frightened. Even worse, there was Nalusa Falaya, the dark being who could eat your soul.

  Eventually, her eyes had ached and her mind had fallen into sleep’s blankness.

  Twigs snapped and pebbles crunched, jerking her awake. An oval of light beamed on her face, blinding in the sudden brightness.

  Lily?

  Nash’s voice had slashed through the haze of alarm, and relief washed over her. She was safe.

  A gentle squeeze of her hand jolted Lily from the memories.

  “You were a pitiful sight, but a welcome one,” Nash said.

  “So how did you find me when no one else could?” She tilted her head, wistful. “Let me guess. A little birdie told you.”

  “Nothing that dramatic.” His lips twitched at the corners and then he sobered. “I figured you’d gone out looking for me at the usual places. When you weren’t there, I retraced my steps until I neared the felled oak seat.” A heartbeat’s pause. “It’s hard to explain, but something in the air’s energy shimmered...as if it had been recently disturbed. The soles of my feet tingled and a knowing slammed my gut that you’d walked the path behind the rock. I plunged ahead and found the bits of string you’d tied on the trees and shrubs. After that, it was easy.”

  “My hero,” she said simply, with no trace of irony.

  Nash snorted. “Some hero. I’ve brought you nothing but trouble and danger this time around.”

  Nothing but love. Instead of bursting fireworks, the realization settled on her soul with the tranquility of still waters—deep and pure and abiding. It had always been there and would always remain.

  “Nash, I...” She hesitated. The time for confessions could come later. He was consumed with guilt and anger over the stalker who hurt any woman he’d had a relationship with. The last thing he wanted to hear right now was that she loved him. She wouldn’t add to his burdens.

  He released a hand and stroked a finger along the curve of her jaw. “What?” he prodded.

  “Just... None of this is your fault.”

  His face darkened and he dropped his hand into his lap. “Maybe it is. Maybe I’ve played fast and loose once too often with a woman’s affection. Now I must suffer for past wrongs.”

  “Look who you’re talking to.” She thought of Gary, of all the men she’d dated and dumped. What would it do to her if Nash didn’t return her love? She hadn’t meant to hurt anyone, had been seeking love in her own way and breaking it off before they fell too deep—at least that was how she’d justified it. Shame burned her cheeks. If there was such a thing as karma, she was doomed. Lily ducked her head.

  “Hey,” he said, gently brushing back her hair. “I don’t care about your past. All that matters is the future.”

  “Then cut yourself a break, too. Goes both ways.”

  A muscle worked the side of his jaw. “At least none of your boyfriends died.”

  “It’s not your fault,” she repeated.

  “If I’d been more careful, if I’d even loved them a little in return...” He closed his eyes.

  “There was nothing you could have done. You aren’t responsible for the actions of a crazy person.”

  Dark eyes snapped open. “Don’t you get it? It’s probably some ex-lover I disposed of as casually as a used paper plate.”

  “Stop it.” She gave his hands a shake. “Tillman and Landry are good cops. They’ll find who’s responsible. And when they do, you’re going to have to find a way to let it all go.”

  “Yes, ma’am.” He gave a mock salute.

  Garbled voices drifted over. “Seems we have some bird-watchers about. Why don’t we grab lunch? I’m starving.”

  “Good deal.” He arose, seemingly as relieved as she was to drop the self-flagellation over ex-lovers. He pulled her up and planted a quick, fierce kiss on her mouth.

  “You’re all right, Lily Bosarge.”

  Lily beamed as if he’d bestowed a grand compliment. “You, too. Now let’s get out of here.”

  She bent down to retrieve her sketchpad.

  “Whoa, let me see this.” Nash took it from her and stared at the drawing.
“This is really good.”

  “You think so? You’re not saying that to be nice?”

  Nash whipped a sharp glance. “How can you be so self-assured in everything except your art?”

  “Because it wasn’t handed to me at birth.” Unlike her looks and her voice. “Plus...” She hesitated, but if Nash could open up about his gift, she should in return. “It’s important to me that it’s worthy. I want to be noticed for something other than my looks. Everybody in Bayou La Siryna thinks of me as the slutty blonde whose only talent is styling hair.”

  His brows screwed together. “Styling hair?”

  Lily picked up the blanket and rolled it, tucking it under an arm. “I used to own a beauty shop in town. I closed it down a few months ago to paint more.”

  “To hell with what others think.”

  “Easier said for a guy, especially one that doesn’t live in a small town.”

  “I suppose,” he agreed with a slight shrug.

  She shot him a sideways glance. “Aren’t you curious about my past? My reputation?”

  “No,” he answered shortly. “You’re not guilty of anything that I haven’t done. I don’t believe in double standards for men and women.”

  They returned to the lodge, holding hands in companionable silence.

  “You made breakfast, so I’ll make lunch,” Nash said. “Just going to wash up first.”

  Lily stretched out on the sofa, absorbed with a rare feeling of lazy contentment. What a perfect day. If only they could share every day together. She tucked a pillow under her head and closed her eyes. She’d worry about the future later. Her mind drifted to slumber. A little nap while Nash made lunch...

  “What’s this?”

  Lily jerked awake at the loud voice and sat upright.

  Nash carried in the straw basket she’d carelessly laid in the bathroom. Her mom’s coral dress was bunched in his right hand, the basket with the rest of the clothes in the other.

  Lily blinked, mind momentarily fuzzy from sleep. “It’s, um, Mom’s dress.”