Siren's Call (Dark Seas)

by Debbie Herbert

  As if Jet could read her mind, she scowled at Lily. “Even if I mated with a merman, our children would still be considered tainted. You are her pure-blood, true daughter, not me.”

  Lily swallowed hard, wishing they were kids again with none of the emotional baggage that had driven a wedge in their relationship.

  Once Lily had hit puberty, a shadow had darkened their former childhood camaraderie. Lily had been slammed with attention from all sides, and not only from males of both human and mer species. She’d had the adulation of all the mermaids for her siren’s voice and beauty. Worst, Adriana showed a partiality that must have deeply hurt Jet.

  “No matter what happens, Mom does love you.”

  “Not as much as she loves you.”

  There. It was now a spoken thing between them.

  Lily didn’t deny it. “I’m sorry.” She bit her lower lip, trying to quell its tremble. “Truly,” she added miserably.

  “It doesn’t matter.” Jet’s gaze dropped to her belly.

  “Of course it matters.” Lily’s face burned with shame, recalling the many occasions when she’d made the situation worse with her selfish need for attention.

  She placed a tentative hand on her sister’s knee. “I’m sorry,” she said again.

  Jet looked up and arched a brow. “You’ve certainly changed.”

  “I’m trying to be a better person. Hopefully a little older and wiser.”

  “It’s Nash, isn’t it? I do believe you’ve fallen in love for the first time in your life.”

  “Yes,” she whispered. For once, someone else’s needs and happiness outweighed her own. Even if he returned to his travels and she returned to the sea, she was forever changed. “It’s scary,” she confessed.

  Jet slowly nodded. “Even scarier than the stalker threat, I’ll bet. Is he worth the danger?”

  “Oh, yes.” Lily’s answer was swift, unequivocal.

  “Then fight for him.”

  Understanding and affection flowed and crested between them in a new way.

  “Thank you, Jet. Forgive me?”

  “You’re my sister.”

  Lily grasped her hand and Jet squeezed it in return.

  “Are you two finished?” a voice called from the doorway. Adriana waved them forward.

  “We’re coming,” Lily answered, helping Jet rise from her chair.

  Adriana disappeared behind the door and Jet gave Lily a rueful smile. “Don’t worry about me and Mom. We’ll make our peace. She is who she is. Now that I have Landry and our baby’s on the way, I’m satisfied. And very, very happy.”

  “I’m glad.”

  In spite of the unresolved danger, the sadness at Sam Bowman’s health and the uncertainty of Nash’s feelings toward her, Lily felt a lightness in her body and heart. Whatever problems she faced, she had her family behind her. The Bosarge women stuck together.

  * * *

  “We have a huge problem,” Adriana announced as they seated themselves at a round picnic table in the shade of an old oak tree.

  Lily scanned the tranquil outdoor area that featured a bubbling water fountain and a labyrinth of blooming flowers. Therapeutic indeed, a real sanctuary from the artificial, intense hospital world fraught with illness and death.

  With a sigh, she faced her family. “Okay, what’s Carl Dismukes done now?”

  “The man won’t go away,” Shelly said. “We thought that after Tillman forced him to retire, that would be the end of his threats. But no, he’s going to make trouble in the sheriff’s election next month. Last week, he went to Tillman’s office with a stack of papers documenting the money Tillman’s father embezzled when he served as sheriff. Dismukes says he’s going to drag his father’s reputation through the mud.”

  Lily leaned her elbows on the table. “I don’t get it. Carl was in on the whole embezzling scheme, too.”

  “He’s doctored all the documents to cast blame solely on Tillman’s dad,” Shelly explained.

  “That’s rough, but Tillman’s dad has been dead for years. I don’t mean to be rude, but it’s not like the scandal could hurt him.”

  “Its guilt by association,” Jet cut in. “People will think ‘like father, like son.’ It would ruin Tillman’s chance at reelection.”

  “Maybe.” She considered Jet’s agitation. “And if Tillman goes down, your husband’s job as deputy is jeopardized.”

  “Right. He could probably get back his old FBI job in Mobile, but that would be...problematic. I don’t want to leave Bayou La Siryna.”

  Lily nodded. Here in the bayou, Jet could come and go as she pleased without detection. She came to their homestead almost daily and slipped out to sea through their secret portal.

  But the situation didn’t seem all that dire. Not compared to the life-and-death dramas going on in the hospital or her own danger from an unknown enemy. Easy to see why Jet and Shelly were upset, but why was her mother taking it so hard? It wasn’t as if she were especially fond of her human sons-in-law.

  She faced Adriana. “What’s got your tail twisted in a knot?”

  “You haven’t heard the worst part. I thought once Jet quit illegally selling marine treasure on the black market, the past would stay buried. But the ever-resourceful Carl is threatening to expose that little secret, as well.”

  “But—” Lily frowned at Jet. “I thought Landry had taken care of all that.”

  Jet nodded. “He did. Dismukes can’t prove anything from my past. But that’s not the point.”

  They all stared at Lily expectantly. She was obviously missing something here. Lily threw up her hands. “Spell it out for me.”

  Adriana took charge. “Carl wants us to start providing him more marine artifacts to sell. If we do, he won’t expose Tillman’s father during the election. And even though he can’t prove Jet once was involved in shady business, he’s lived here long enough that he knows influential people in Bayou La Siryna. He’ll trash Jet and Landry’s reputation.”

  Dread curdled in Lily’s stomach. Would they never be free of this man?

  “I don’t care about my reputation,” Jet said.

  Adriana stared pointedly at Jet’s belly. “You’re starting a family. Do you want your children to grow up here and be stigmatized for your past mistakes?”

  Jet’s hands fisted so tightly her knuckles turned white. “This is all my fault. If I wasn’t pregnant, I’d take care of him right now.”

  “Carl is a disgrace.” Adriana shook her head. “Blackmail and betrayal to fellow humans, I understand. But he has merblood in him and our kind is bonded together to protect one another from exposure. I could return to sea and alert the merfolk. There are some who would be willing to travel here and take care of the matter. They’ll force Dismukes to stop...or else.”

  “That might work,” Shelly mused. “We can play along with him, give him a few trinkets and buy time until help arrives.”

  “You can’t be serious!” Lily said. “We can’t buckle under to his demands. Not even once. And contact the merfolk to do our dirty work? Unacceptable.”

  Her mother fixed her with a pointed stare. “Then what do you propose we do?”

  “We need to confront him at sea, on our own turf.” Lily’s thoughts whirled as she stared at each mermaid relative across the table.

  Shelly. Being only half-mermaid, her cousin was the weakest link. And her nature was much too kind for dirty business. When Shelly had had her own crisis with a serial killer, Melkie Pellerin, Lily and Jet had been forced to handle the matter.

  No help there.

  Jet. Much as she was willing, and the physically strongest of them all, her sister was in no condition to take any risks for several weeks. She shouldn’t even have to endure this emotional strain while carrying a baby.

  Mom.
Adriana was mentally tough and had no compunction enforcing the merfolk code of secrecy. But even though she was in good shape, Mom was getting on in years and it wasn’t fair to expect their mother to protect them anymore. She’d already aided them once before when Jet’s ex-boyfriend, Perry Hammonds, had kidnapped Jet and held her hostage.

  Which left...

  “I’ll take care of Carl Dismukes,” Lily said at last. She knew exactly how to get him alone at sea. It should be easy enough to scare the wily old bastard then. Frighten him so bad he’d realize the Bosarge women were out for blood.

  His blood.

  “How?” Jet asked bluntly. “Dismukes isn’t a criminal fugitive like Perry was. If he disappears or dies like Perry, there’ll be questions and a lengthy investigation.” Jet’s stare was hard, accusing. “You can’t kill him.”

  Murder? Lily sprang to her feet, outrage crackling through her spine. “I’m not going to kill Dismukes! Why would you say such a thing?”

  No one answered. Silence pounded her eardrums and swished through her brain like the pressure from floating at the bottom of the deepest ocean.

  “Well,” Adriana said drily. “We’ve always wondered exactly how Perry died the day you rescued Jet. You were alone with him undersea when Jet swam away. And you were the last person to see him alive.”

  They think I killed him.

  The thought reverberated in her mind, loud and forceful as a whale’s bellow. Lily inhaled raspy and loud, her panicked lungs unable to suck in enough oxygen. She pressed her trembling lips together and tried to paste on her Mona Lisa smile, a reflex built from years of masking emotion.

  It didn’t work.

  How could they believe her capable of murder? Lily couldn’t take their avid stares. She sat down and picked at a small sea-glass chip on her bracelet, staring down as if she’d never seen it before. Churned and battered by the currents, it had been buffed from a shard of broken glass—garbage—to a piece of art. The muted teal absorbed Lily’s attention. Perhaps she could capture that tone in a watercolor, mix the blues and greens together, followed by an opaque wash...

  A warm touch on her forearm startled Lily out of her reverie.

  “No one’s judging you,” Shelly said. “We’re curious about what happened down there.”

  Lily met the kind eyes of her cousin. They might look almost like twins, but they couldn’t be more different in temperament. Whereas Shelly was a soft-hearted peacemaker, Lily was rigid and unyielding in her ideas of justice.

  Evil deserved no mercy. But she’d never made herself jury and executioner. Except that one time...

  “An eye for an eye,” Shelly nodded, as if reading her mind. “Like when you clawed out one of Melkie Pellerin’s eyes that night we captured him for the police.”

  “But I didn’t kill the killer.” Lily jerked away from Shelly’s touch. She shuddered, remembering the serial killer that had stalked the bayou for several years. He’d gotten away with murder until Shelly observed him dumping the body of a victim one night at sea. “He was fortunate to only lose one eye. His victims suffered far worse.”

  Shelly crossed her arms. “If I hadn’t stopped you, I believe you would have killed him.”

  “Then you would be wrong.” Lily rubbed her face, feeling as weary as an old woman. If her own family believed her so cold-blooded... Well, she had nothing.

  Jet thrust her face within inches of her own. “Did you kill Perry or not?” she asked in her forthright manner.

  That bastard. Perry of the roving hands, who’d groped and leered at her every time Jet left the room. Yet she would never tell Jet. That little secret was as dead and silent as Davy Jones’s locker at the bottom of the sea.

  “’Cause if you did—” Jet ran her hand through her black hair and exhaled loudly “—I don’t care. You saved my life.”

  No, she hadn’t laid a hand on Perry. But she hadn’t helped him, either. Guilt and shame scalded her nerves at the memory of Perry under the ocean, swallowing handfuls of sea water, panicked from oxygen deprivation. Her only crime was one of omission. She’d drifted nearby, observing his agony for a couple of seconds before rushing in to save him. Had those two seconds made the difference between life and death? Her brain said no, but the question haunted her.

  “I didn’t lay a finger on him,” Lily spat out, immediately on the defensive. “He drowned.”

  “Sure, he did.” Jet drummed her fingers on the picnic table. “Very convenient. Had Perry lived, he would have blackmailed us to bankruptcy...or worse.”

  “Worse?” Shelly asked, brows furrowed.

  Jet stood and paced. “We were probably worth more to him alive. As a circus act.” She stopped and faced Lily again. “Thank you.”

  They don’t know me at all. Damn her famous composure. “I didn’t kill anybody!” Lily’s scream echoed like a receding wave in the stunned silence.

  “Shh.” Adriana put her index finger to her lips and glanced about the garden.

  Lily pushed away from the table, eager to flee, but her knees shook and she slowly stumbled past them, feeling invisible—like the ghost from Christmas past in a roomful of strangers.

  Death stalked her in the tight maze of hallways as patients were wheeled by in stretchers. It haunted the fearful eyes of family members in waiting rooms. Life was so fragile, so fleeting.

  Lily quickened her pace, overcome with an urgent need to see Nash, to feel tucked into the haven of his embrace.

  * * *

  Stubborn, stubborn, stubborn. Sam Bowman was worse than a headstrong mule when it came to modern medicine. Nothing Nash or the doctors said earlier today could shake his resolve at refusing another heart operation.

  “I done tried it before and I’m not doing it again. The spirits told me the end is drawing near and I aim to spend what’s left of my life fishing and roaming my own property and dying in my own bed.”

  Nash unwrapped a barbecue sandwich, knowing he needed to eat but not having much of an appetite. Nothing was more physically and emotionally draining than sitting for hours and hours at a hospital. He’d rather brave climbing a Peruvian mountain in a sleet storm.

  Lily appeared equally exhausted. Her face was drawn and pale and she kept rubbing her temples.

  “Headache?” he asked.

  “The worst. I think I’m allergic to hospitals.”

  “You didn’t have to come.” He was surprised she had after their argument. But he had to admit her presence had been comforting, even if he was still angry. And at least he knew she was safe as long as he was with her for protection. “Let me get you some aspirin.” He half rose from the sofa but she waved him to sit back down.

  “Um, no. I don’t take pills. I have a weird metabolism. A little food and wine will help.”

  She picked at her basket of fried shrimp, appearing to take as little enjoyment of the takeout food as he did.

  A few more bites of the barbecue and Nash gave up on it. He took a long swallow of beer and stared moodily out the window of his grandfather’s cottage.

  “It’s his decision, you know,” Lily said quietly. “And who’s to say it’s the wrong one? Seems like he’s outlived all his family.”

  Irritation spiked his gut. “I’m still here. Dad and my brother are still alive.”

  “But he hardly sees y’all. You’re spread all over the country, living your own lives.”

  “He could come visit us. Over the years, I’ve sent him dozens of invitations to join me. Places like Hawaii and Alaska and South America, all at my expense. He refuses to leave the bayou.” Nash realized he was shouting and calmed himself. “It’s like he’s obsessed with this damn place.”

  “It’s his home. And you’ve told me he’s held in high regard by your tribe. They come from Mobile and farther for his help when they’re sick or need council.
”

  “All the more reason to live as long as possible,” he snapped. “He helps everyone except himself.”

  Nash had brought up that exact point in his futile attempt to convince his grandfather to undergo another heart operation. But Sam was having none of it.

  “Another healer will take my place,” he’d said. “Someone who can be guided by the animal spirits and Mother Earth better than I ever could. A man born to this destiny but who has yet to discover all his gifts.”

  There had been a certain directness in his grandfather’s eyes when he’d spoken those words that had shivered through Nash like the burning cold of frostbite. He couldn’t possibly mean— No way— I don’t want this— No, no, NO.

  But Sam hadn’t pushed the point. He’d closed those burning black eyes and murmured, “I need to rest. Come back in the morning.”

  Lily set down her glass of wine and strolled over to a small gallery of black-and-white photos mounted above the fireplace. She pointed to the largest, a woman in her mid-thirties with long black hair braided in two plaits, dressed in a plain white shirt adorned with a beaded and feathered necklace. The woman’s expression was sober, intense. “Your grandmother, right?” Lily asked.

  “Momma Nellie,” Nash confirmed. “She died when I was quite young. I only remember her as a quiet woman, always cooking and doing her beadwork.”

  Lily idly traced a finger over the beaded bracelet on her wrist. “How did she die?”

  “Boating accident. She’d gone out fishing alone one morning and the boat capsized. Her body was found three days later. Grandfather doesn’t talk much about it, but I believe he’s mourned her all these years. As far as I know, he’s never even looked at another woman.”

  Lily’s arms hugged her waist. “Drowned. How horrible. She couldn’t swim?”

  “No. I can’t understand how someone can live near the ocean all their lives and never learn. Like you.”