Dark Water: A Siren Novel

by Tricia Rayburn

  Vanessa, what’s going on? What do we do?

  Paige’s voice was an alarm in my head. For a second, I didn’t know whether I should answer. If Natalie was right, if Paige had known her newest hire was a siren … had she known everything else, too?

  Sing, Paige. To Jaime. So he’ll let you go.

  I wouldn’t do that if I were you, Natalie fired back. Until we join forces, you’re greatly outnumbered. On my signal, the ladies will switch targets instantly.

  That was all the answer I needed. Paige and Natalie weren’t allies; Natalie had simply used Paige for her purposes. Not wanting to lose sight of them for even a moment, I put both hands on the railing and leapt from the deck. I landed surprisingly easily and ran.

  As I headed toward them, I didn’t notice I wasn’t the only one in hot pursuit. Chief Green and another police officer had finally arrived and were bolting across the sand, too … as it turned out, in hot pursuit of me.

  “Vanessa Sands!” a deep male voice shouted behind me.

  I slowed, but didn’t stop.

  “You’re under arrest! Anything you say can—”

  “Under arrest?” Reaching the water’s edge, Natalie turned toward us, one hand on her chest. “Whatever for?”

  I scanned the water behind her. The sirens and men were getting deeper. A few men were already kicking to keep their heads above the surface.

  “For the murder of Colin Robbins.”

  Now I stopped. But I didn’t face the police.

  I faced Simon. He stood with Sam, two feet from the water. At Chief Green’s declaration, he shook his head and looked at me, eyes wide, confused.

  “There must be some mistake,” Natalie said. “Pretty, sweet, wouldn’t-hurt-a-fly Vanessa Sands … a murderer?”

  “I wish it was a mistake,” Chief Green said, stopping before us. “Believe me. But we have the confession right here.”

  My heart sank when he pulled out a digital voice recorder—my digital voice recorder, the one I’d taken out kayaking—from his shirt pocket. With everything that had happened, I’d forgotten all about it.

  “We found it in the denim jacket she left with the victim.” Chief Green looked at me. “It has everything—the underwater scuffle, the dragging of the body on the beach, your subsequent apology. Everything.”

  Natalie clucked her tongue. “Well. That was sloppy.”

  For the first time, Chief Green looked past her. “What’s going on here? What are all those folks doing in the water?”

  “Just a few friends having a small beach party,” Natalie said.

  “In the middle of a storm?” Chief Green asked.

  “We’re very good swimmers.” Natalie smiled.

  The other police officer—Sergeant Tompkins, according to his badge—came up behind me, took my wrist. Chief Green stepped toward the water just as a lightning bolt illuminated the sky—and the captives still onshore.

  “Paige Marchand?” he asked. “Is that you? What—”

  He was cut off by an earsplitting shriek. Once again, the world went white. My head went blank. But this single note lasted longer than the others had up on the employee deck, and after several seconds, my body seemed to adjust to the noise. My sight returned partially—I could make out the people and place before me, but they were soft, fuzzy, like I viewed them through a gray screen.

  It was enough. Chief Green stood perfectly still, his mouth frozen open in a startled O and both hands on his head. Simon, Caleb, Paige, and their captors were also still. So were the sirens and men in the harbor, though the water continued to lap against them. Behind me, Sergeant Tompkins didn’t move.

  The only one who did was Natalie. She strode toward Chief Green, still singing. If she knew I could see her, she didn’t let on. Certain this was the only chance I was going to get, I started to pull away from the officer—but was stopped by something cold and hard.

  Handcuffs. He had one latched on to my wrist and held the other open in his right hand.

  I know you’re strong … now you just need to decide what it really means to be brave.

  Charlotte’s last words ran through my head.

  And I knew what I had to do.

  I tugged my arm until the other handcuff popped free from Sergeant Tompkins’s fingers. Keeping one eye on Natalie, whose back was to me as she reached toward Chief Green’s chest, I dashed across the sand to Caleb. He didn’t seem to feel a thing as I untied his hands and ripped the tape from his mouth. I blinked back tears as I gave him a quick hug and moved on to Paige. I released her, too, and gave her a tighter, slightly longer squeeze. I considered shoving their captors away to give them a bigger head start, but I didn’t know if the force would wake the men or alert Natalie. I could only hope Caleb and Paige moved fast enough once the spell faded.

  And then I went to Simon. His eyes were still aimed toward Sergeant Tompkins, since that’s where I’d been when Natalie had started singing. I couldn’t keep the tears from rolling down my face as I undid his ties and peeled the tape from his mouth. I worked quickly, knowing I didn’t have much time—and that I’d stop if I let myself think about how unfair this all was.

  But then, wasn’t this how it would’ve ended anyway? With us apart? And me as good as dead if not actually dead? Wasn’t it better that it happened sooner rather than later, regardless of how, just as Charlotte had said?

  I glanced behind me. Natalie was pressing her hands into the chief’s chest, her eyes locked on his, her lips moving almost imperceptibly.

  I turned back to Simon and pressed my lips to his one last time. They were still soft and warm, which made the tears fall faster.

  “I love you,” I mouthed, careful not to say the words out loud or in my head. “And I’m so sorry.”

  I stood, gently brushed his hair away from his forehead, and then started toward Natalie. My feet quickened beneath me, until I was sprinting. I slowed just enough to keep from ramming into her, slammed the other handcuff on to her wrist, and locked it shut.

  “Vanessa!” she exclaimed, her spell instantly broken.

  “What—”

  She was cut off as I jerked her backward, dragged her through the sand. Everyone around us came to, but slowly, as if they were waking from a long nap. I used their temporary, groggy confusion to my advantage; by the time they could remember where they were and what was happening, Natalie and I were already in the water.

  This is touching but pointless, she screamed in my head. You have no idea how strong I am.

  I guess I’ll just have to find out.

  As she kicked and squirmed, I tightened my hold around her shoulders. She wriggled from my grasp once, but I turned and was above her instantly, blocking her route to the surface. She tried to shoot past me, but I pulled her back and under my arm again in one swift motion.

  Natalie was strong. But I’d just taken a life … and so was I.

  What are you going to do? she demanded as we swam deeper. Bury me in the sand at the bottom of the ocean?

  That’s not a bad idea.

  If you wanted to kill me, why didn’t you just take the cop’s gun and shoot me?

  Because I didn’t want to kill her. I didn’t want to kill anyone, ever. But since that was the only way to stop her and save countless more people from dying under her command … I, at least, didn’t want to live with having killed her. I supposed I could’ve shot myself, too, but I couldn’t do that to Simon or my friends. Plus, this way seemed only appropriate.

  We were going to swim. Drift. Surrender ourselves to the ocean without coming up for air. For hours, days, or weeks. However long it took for our bodies to shut down from lack of oxygen, which we needed to survive as much as we needed salt water.

  You’re being foolish. How is this better than the life I offered?

  That wasn’t a life, I shot back. And this way, no one else gets hurt.

  She laughed. Maybe I was wrong about you after all, Vanessa Sands. Because if you think this ends with me, you’re sorely m
istaken.

  I kicked harder, dove deeper. She screeched, and the long, shrill note was temporarily blinding. Without thinking, I mimicked the sound, giving it my all in hopes of drowning her out.

  Seconds later, we were surrounded by silver light.

  You see? She patted my arm, which was still around her shoulders. Look at how well I’ve taught them.

  The sirens. Her sirens. The same ones who’d just been luring in the fishermen now surrounded us, silver eyes gleaming. They formed a tight sphere, making it impossible to swim away. One by one they reached for us, grabbing our hair, our arms, our necks. At first, I tried to resist, to pull out of their holds … but there was no point.

  So I stopped struggling. I relaxed my grip on Natalie and felt her float as far away as the handcuffs would allow. I closed my eyes.

  And then, singing so softly only I could hear, I pictured Justine, told her I’d see her soon … and gave into the light.

  CHAPTER 27

  THE SMALL ROOM was on the top floor of an old brick building. The walls were white concrete, the floors gray linoleum. The ceiling was covered in glow-in-the-dark star stickers, left by a previous occupant. There were two beds, dressers, desks, and bookcases. A single pedestal sink stood between two closets. Above the iron radiator, a large window overlooked a cluster of similar buildings housing rooms identical to this one.

  “Well,” Mom said, looking around, “it’s not the Ritz.”

  “No,” I said. “It’s better.”

  Her eyes watered as she smiled. Then, most likely to ward off the full-fledged breakdown she’d been fighting for days, she turned to the stack of folded linens on one desk, took a sheet, and shook it out over one of the twin beds.

  “Five flights of stairs,” Dad gasped, coming into the room. “And not one elevator.”

  “Which wouldn’t be a big deal if someone hadn’t insisted on bringing everything she owned.” Paige followed Dad inside and rolled her eyes playfully. “Such a diva.”

  She was kidding. We’d passed several cars so stuffed with belongings, the windows seemed to bulge, and mine had fit neatly into the back cargo space of Mom’s SUV—with room to spare. Paige had been so puzzled when she saw the packing job, she asked if we’d rented a U-Haul for the rest of my stuff. When I’d told her no, she asked if the car had been broken into. The teasing had continued since.

  Dad hung up my winter coat, which Paige must’ve insisted he trade her my suitcase for when they realized there was no elevator, in one of the closets. Paige rolled the suitcase to one of the dressers. Mom finished making the bed and then stood in the middle of the room, hands on her hips.

  “We should put your clothes away,” she said. “And what about your toiletries? Do you want them by the sink? On your dresser? How about your laptop and notebooks? We should organize your desk, too.”

  “Mom.” I reached forward, squeezed her arm. “There’s not much to unpack or organize. I can do that later.”

  She frowned. “Then we should go shopping. You’ll need a rug. And curtains. And maybe some more pillows, in case you want to read in bed.”

  “Don’t forget the mini fridge,” Paige added. “I’m definitely getting one of those when I move to San Francisco next spring. Maybe two.”

  “That makes sense,” I said. “You’re going to school for restaurant management. You’ll need them to store all the amazing dishes your future employees are going to try to bribe you with. I, on the other hand, am fine without. Really.”

  “What about for snacks?” Mom asked. “And water bottles? I should’ve thought of that. Why didn’t I think of that?”

  “Probably because you were busy thinking of everything else.”

  Unconvinced, Mom bit her lip, drummed her fingers against her hips.

  “I have a car,” I reminded her. “If I change my mind, I can always go get one later.”

  “But they’re heavy,” she protested. “And there’s no elevator.”

  “I’ll help,” a familiar male voice said.

  Mom turned around. I smiled.

  Simon stood in the open doorway.

  “I do plan to spend quite a bit of time up here,” he added. “I’ll make sure your darling daughter has everything she needs almost as soon as she needs it.”

  Fresh tears filled Mom’s eyes. She went to the door and pulled Simon into a tight embrace. When she finally let him go, Dad shook his hand and asked how the ride from Bates was. As the three of them made small talk, Paige caught my eye from the other side of the room and spoke so only I could hear.

  You seem suspiciously calm. Everything okay?

  Everything’s great. Promise.

  Good. And don’t worry about your parents. I’ll make sure the waterworks don’t flood the entire northeast on our way to Winter Harbor.

  I appreciate that, I said, thinking again how nice it was that Paige had come for the trip. She’d taken a train to Boston and spent the previous weekend with us, ridden in the Jeep with me up to Hanover, and would, I hoped, distract my parents when they left later this afternoon. They were going to Winter Harbor to prepare the beach house for winter, and had offered to drive Paige home to save her from having to take the train again.

  By the way, she said, this is so much better than e-mail. As long as I can hear your voice whenever I want, I think I just might survive the long distance stretch between visits.

  I looked at her. We’ve survived worse.

  It was hard to believe, thinking back, just how much we’d been through. Justine’s drowning. Raina’s and Zara’s attacks, both in Winter Harbor and Boston, and their subsequent demises. Betty’s near death and manipulation. The loss of Paige’s unborn baby. Charlotte’s unexpected introduction and equally unexpected passing. Our physical transformations and the countless challenges they’d brought.

  And, of course, Natalie.

  There were so many reasons I shouldn’t have survived the events of this past summer, especially considering how close—and often—I’d come to dying. Before I knew what it needed, my body had nearly failed me. A hypnotized fisherman might’ve killed me in the basement of Betty’s if I hadn’t accidentally interrupted him, and again in the ocean, when he’d tried to strangle me. And when by some small miracle I made it through all that, I should’ve died at the bottom of the harbor, handcuffed to Natalie and suffocated by vengeful sirens.

  But I’d survived that, too. And for once, my Nenuphar powers had proved useful. Because the sirens hadn’t heard Natalie’s call and come for me. They’d heard my voice above hers … and they came for her. In a flurry of water and song, during which I was certain each breath I took was my last, they’d killed her. And when they were done, they’d looked to me for guidance.

  When I realized what had happened, I acted automatically. I instructed the majority of the sirens to return to the men, make sure they were okay, and do what they could to soften the memories of that night. I asked two to take Natalie’s body out to sea, where it would decompose long before it was found. When the handcuffs posed a problem, I took the chain between two fingers and broke it apart like it was made of seaweed rather than metal. And then I headed for shore, prepared to confess a second crime to Chief Green and Sergeant Tompkins.

  Paige, however, had learned a thing or two from her time with Natalie. Before my feet hit sand, the police were gone—and apparently convinced they’d stopped by the beach to follow up on a noise complaint. The digital voice recorder, with my earlier confession, was in her possession. She’d also taken care of Jaime, Sam, and Natalie’s husband the same way I’d asked the sirens to handle the other men: by singing so sweetly they believed everything the sirens claimed, including my innocence. The only ones who still knew what I’d been accused of were Paige, Caleb, Simon, and me.

  The four of us talked for hours after that. They hadn’t heard any of my conversation with Natalie up on the employee deck, so I explained everything she’d told me. When I was finished, I said I still planned to turn myself into the p
olice for what I’d done to Colin, but they talked me out of it. They were certain I’d simply acted in self-defense and that his death was ultimately an accident. They also thought that’d be difficult to explain to the authorities without trying to explain everything else. I couldn’t argue their logic, so even though I’d been—and still was—wracked with guilt, I refrained.

  As a visitor, Natalie wasn’t known or missed outside our small circle, and her body wasn’t found. Colin’s death was deemed a tragic kayaking accident. The other mysterious deaths—Carla’s, Erica’s, and Gretchen’s—remained unsolved. Eventually, as weeks passed without incident, residents and life in Winter Harbor calmed down.

  Paige even relaxed, although that took longer. Just as I felt guilty for my involvement with Colin, she felt guilty for hers with Natalie. Their friendship had started innocently enough, but Natalie had latched on to the fact that Paige wanted to increase business at the restaurant, and when the time was right, she confessed that she was a siren, too. She’d claimed she wanted to meet Paige after reading about everything that had happened the summer before and hoped to help her move on after such a horrific experience. Paige, desperate for business and curious about what a more experienced, seemingly trustworthy siren could teach her, quickly went along with Natalie’s business propositions—including using her abilities to lure men to the new dinner contests Betty’s hosted. She’d wanted to tell me but didn’t, for two reasons. The first was that she was worried I wouldn’t approve, and the second was that she didn’t want to give me yet another thing to worry about.

  She’d apologized endlessly, and each time, I told her it wasn’t necessary. After all, considering what I’d done, who was I to judge?

  I could go for some coffee, Paige announced suddenly. Then, “Who wants coffee? My treat.”

  My parents, miraculously picking up on the excuse to leave, claimed that they were in desperate need of caffeine. We agreed to meet at the dining hall, and they hurried from the room. When they were gone, Simon came all the way inside and closed the door.

  “Hey.” He smiled.