* * * * *
Brian knew he should head home, only home was the last place he wanted to be. Home, where the interrogations would start: Where were you? What were you up to? And how could he tell him? What could he say? He couldn’t do it, he knew that now. Wouldn’t. There was no way in hell. But how could Abby keep her secret? People were dying. She might be involved.
“No,” whispered Brian, he just couldn’t believe it. She wasn’t a murderer. She’d looked so scared. Plus, he was relatively sure she wasn’t dangerous. If she’d had any sort of special powers, she would have done a lot more than just run away. She’d seemed so fragile, so totally lost. And all he’d wanted was to hold her in his arms. He wanted to protect her, but instead he was the threat. He remembered her body beneath his coat and felt himself growing warm. He just couldn’t believe how beautiful she was. Magical, just like a mythical creature plucked from the pages of a book.
Brian ripped down Main Street, pushing sixty, his mind turned inward, not on the road. But then he heard the siren’s scream, and his rear view mirror was bathed in light.
“Not now,” moaned Brian. “Not today.” He slowed down to a respectable speed, then pulled over, his heart wheeling in his chest.
The rain had picked up again, and the patrol car’s lights swept over the road, spattering the pavement in colorful splotches. Brian knew the officer was running his plates, would know who he was in a matter of seconds.
“Damn it!” cursed Brian, already worrying about Luther— what he would do; what he would say. Even now he could feel those reptilian eyes on his skin, could see his mother’s reproachful look. More like vacant look, thought Brian. She doesn’t care. Luther can do whatever he wants.
There was a knock on the Camry’s driver side window and Brian rolled it down, careful not to put too much pressure on the window crank, which was duct taped to the door.
“Brian,” it was Officer Dakins, one of the nicest guys on the force.
“Hey,” said Brian, trying to smile. Be friendly, he thought. This guy likes you. Brian hoped Dakins remembered their summer tennis matches during the officer get-togethers Luther used to host. Brian wasn’t sure why those things had ended; only that he’d been glad when they had.
“Clocked you at 60 in a 30 mile zone. Everything okay son?” Dakins asked.
“Yeah,” said Brian, who hadn’t realized he was going so fast. “It’s just been a rough day, that’s all. I was out with a friend who was really upset. Guess I wasn’t thinking about my speed.” Please, prayed Brian, watching Dakins— the closely spaced eyes, the thin, well-groomed beard. Please remember our summer matches. Please, oh please give me a break.
“Girlfriend?” said Dakins resting an arm on the car, then pulling back when he noticed all the duct tape.
“Yeah,” said Brian. “Something like that.” He’s not going to ask for your license or registration. He’s just gonna let you go.
Dakins leaned in and shot a conspiratorial smile. “Listen son, I’m gonna cut you a break. You’re the chief’s kid and that counts for something around here. But take it easy, okay? There’s big problems since that second disappearance. Having you wrapping yourself around a telephone pole ain’t gonna make folks feel any better about things.”
“Who’s missing?” said Brian, keeping his voice as even as he could. He hoped Dakins would give him some privileged information. It might help him figure out if Abby was telling the truth.
“You haven’t heard?” said Dakins. “It’s all over the news. A college girl’s been missing since Sunday night. Normally we wouldn’t be worrying yet, but since that foot washed up on the beach, and that other girl’s still missing, we have to check everything out. Especially since this new girl’s friends last placed her near the water. It’s just too much of a coincidence, you know what I mean?”
“The water?” parroted Brian, his mouth going dry and a hint of hysteria creeping into his voice.
Dakins peered into Brian’s eyes. “You don’t know something about that, do you Brian? You have some information you want to share?”
“What?” said Brian, going cold. Oh man, he thought. Keep your emotions in check. Try not to act so damn dumb.
“No, I just hadn’t heard, that’s all. I only knew about the first one. My friend… the one I was telling you about. She knew the first girl a little bit. I guess that’s why I’m kind of shook up.”
Dakins kept staring at Brian’s face. Brian could actually feel the man’s eyes crawling over his skin, kind of like when Luther looked at him.
“Okay,” said Dakins, stepping back. He wasn’t smiling anymore. “Well, I tell you what. I’m gonna cut you some slack because you’re the chief’s stepson and all. But you take it slow, you hear me now? Take it real slow. I’ll be watching you.”
“I will,” said Brian, nodding his head up and down so furiously that he felt like one of those bobble head dolls they sell down at the arcade. The kid who’s head just wagged and wagged.
He watched Dakins strut back to his cruiser, certain he was about to turn on his radio and relay what had happened back to the chief.
“Damn it,” cursed Brian, slamming his car into gear. Brian flipped his wipers to high, then slowly continued down Main Street, waiting for Dakins to get off his tail. It took several minutes for the cop to end the escort, but once he did, Brian turned around and made his way back toward Abby’s, her bright face flashing behind his eyes as he tried to decide what he was going to do.
5. Entry
The Hunter stood at the ocean’s rim, readying himself for the change. He’d had the two and that was enough, for now. Their energy coursed beneath his skin. Even in the inky blackness he could see how his body had changed. Gone were the spindly, weightless limbs, the bent frame. He stood tall, thick-necked and broad, hot blood rolling through his veins. He’d abandoned the boat. He didn’t need it anymore— not when his body felt like this. But still their voices shrieked inside him.
His human side wanted to vomit them up. Not their bodies, which were lost in the water, but the very souls he’d fed upon. Only it was too late for that. Nothing could be done. And, for most of him, that was all right. Soon the sound of their cries would leach from his body, and all that would be left was their gift of strength, and the power to finally make her kind pay.
Anger shot through him, as a women’s face floated through his mind. Long, tangled hair, eyes like a cat’s— who couldn’t love her? He certainly had. She was designed to make men want her. Just like her sisters; all of them were. But even though he knew she was impossible to resist, every day that had passed since he’d first heard her song, he’d wished to god she had let him go. An acrid taste slid up his throat as he remembered her tail, gleaming in the light. The sound of her laughter still heated his blood.
The Hunter snapped his eyelids shut and forced himself to block her out, to drown her image like a stone in water, to try and forget. Gingerly he stepped toward the breakers. They were calling to him, begging him forward. He could hear them in the recesses of his mind, in every bitter turn of his thoughts.
It was at his toes now, lapping over his skin, and already his body had begun to burn. He took a breath and stared up at the stars, allowing himself one last human moment before he transformed— a distraction from the coming pain.
He tried to remember what his life had been like all those long years ago. The uncharted waters, reading the stars, kissing his wife and two boys goodbye, then heading out onto the open sea.
But that sailor’s life was so distant now that he sometimes wondered if it had ever existed at all. He couldn’t recall his wife’s face anymore. And his children, how many had he really had? It was like looking at a photo that was so badly faded you couldn’t make out what was there. Remember, he thought. You had two. But he couldn’t be sure. He didn’t know. Two hundred years is a very long time. Too long to harbor any face but hers.
The burning had increased in intensity now. A noxious
venom squirted down from above his teeth, filling his throat and making him retch. He doubled over, spewing out the poison, but instead of leaning forward as a man, he toppled down into the surf. The water seeped into his pores, molding him into something new. He tried to scream, but he choked instead.
And then he went rigid in the water, spasming beneath the surf. His skin grew smoother, more pliable, darkening into a scorched black. His arms collapsed against his sides as his torso stretched to six times its length. His human self twisted in disgust, hating what he had to become. But that part was quickly fading away. Soon those thoughts would be barely a whisper, all too easy to ignore.
The great snake raised its head from the water and rested its lidless eyes on the sky. Then it let out a withered hiss and dove down into the sea, its long, forked tongue flicking at the darkness, scanning the depths for signs of its prey.
6. The Poseidon Stone
Abby knew she’d have trouble sleeping. She couldn’t think. She didn’t know what to do. The night had been rife with anxiety. It’d splintered through the air in electrical currents, making it almost impossible to breathe.
The screaming had started the moment she’d walked through the front door. Jake had been livid; she’d never seen him like that. It was worse than when Dad had died, and he’d locked himself in his bedroom and smashed every trophy he’d ever won. Matilda hadn’t screamed much at all. But after all Jake’s yelling was done, she’d joined him in on the silent treatment, refusing to even look at Abby as they sat down to the dinner that Jake had defrosted and listened to the TV’s drone.
They’d eaten in silence, or at least Jake had. But he could eat no matter what. Matilda had stared vacantly at her plate, glancing up only when the Amber Alerts came on. Abby, whose stomach felt like a fistful of worms, had been unable to get anything down.
And now here she was, sitting in bed, her mind twisting around itself, trying to figure out what to do. Or what, for that matter, Brian was planning on doing.
Abby lay listening to the gentle tap of the rain, like a thousand moths vying to get in. She had no idea what to think about Brian. He’d seemed so suspicious, yet he’d wanted to protect her. Don’t be stupid, she thought. He thinks you’re a monster. It’s only your looks that are keeping you safe.
She frowned, then reached behind her back and pulled the mermaid box from its hiding spot beneath a pile of pillows. When she touched it, the scent of the sea rushed through her. She was about to yank her hand back and drop the thing when she decided to take a closer look. Maybe it’ll take your mind off Brian, she thought, and what in the hell you’re going to do.
The box felt heavy in her hands, heavier than it had before. She traced the mermaid’s face with her finger and stared into its emerald eyes. It was creepy, this feeling of being watched. It made her skin crawl and her throat burn. She remembered why she’d covered the eyes before, but this time she refused to hide them away. Instead she peered into the glowing pinpricks, noticing how their color shifted the harder she looked. The ocean’s smell washed through her again, and a cold chill needled into her bones. But inside her chest it was growing hot, as if her lungs were being consumed by fire. The back of her neck was damp with sweat, but she refused to do it. She wouldn’t look away. It was like a lame dare, but she couldn’t back down. No, that wasn’t quite right. She didn’t want to anymore.
Something was knocking against her window. Abby involuntarily jerked her head up, and as soon as she did, the air came back, filing her lungs with oxygen. Then the briny smell began to fade, and when she glanced back down the eyes had shut, their emeralds lost beneath two wooden lids. No way, thought Abby. This can’t be real.
Abby snorted at how ridiculous this was. A teenage mermaid was supernatural enough. How could a box with eyes be any weirder than that?
But the eyes behind her window weren’t supernatural at all. It was Brian Baker drenched from the rain, his pale face pressed against the glass, signaling for her to let him in.
Momentarily forgetting the box, Abby leaped off her bed and ran to the window, her mind racing as she jammed up the glass. She wasn’t sure she should let him inside, but she didn’t want to leave him out in the rain either. He’d taken care of her, brought her home. She owed him this much, at least.
“Brian?” He held out his hand. She took it and helped him in. “What are you doing? How did you get up to my room?”
“I climbed,” he said, shoving his hair from his eyes. Water sloughed off his skin and dripped heavily onto the floor.
“Brian, were you spying on me?” She glared at him, but he held her stare. It was Abby who finally looked away.
“I wasn’t spying.” He didn’t sound very convincing.
“I think you should leave,” said Abby, regretting her decision to let him inside, all feelings of obligation totally gone. Nothing’s changed, she thought. He still can’t be trusted, even if you really want to. She took a deep breath, but he still hadn’t budged.
“Abby I can’t.”
“Yes, you can.”
“I’m not going home.” His face went dark.
“Why not?” asked Abby, not that she wanted to know. She just needed to get him out of here. She could feel the eyes on the box watching her again. He shouldn’t be here right now.
“Abby, that girl that’s missing from your mom’s cooking class? Well, apparently, she was last seen near the water.” Brian closed his eyes like he was searching for something. When he opened them, she could see the fear.
“Listen,” said Brian, reaching for her hand. Then he thought better of it and let his drop to his side. “I’m not saying you’re involved, but you know something, and now my stepdad’s gonna know too. I can’t go home. He’ll get it out of me somehow. He’s got this special way of figuring things out. I don’t know how he does it, but I can’t go there now. Not until I have some answers. Not until I know what to do.”
Abby froze, unsure what to say. Part of her wanted to shove him back out through the open window, but another part, a more rational part, heard what he’d said and made herself wait.
“Do you think that your stepdad knows anything yet?” Her voice started shaking as she said the words, but she had to make sure she was safe.
“I don’t think so, but we need to keep it that way.”
“But I saw what happened to Lauren Liney,” rushed Abby. “I’m the only witness to a crime.” And then she could see it all over again. The ruby bubbles. All that blood.
“I know what you saw, but we can’t tell him this. I don’t know what he’ll do.”
“You still think I’m involved?”
“I don’t know! But even the possibility of turning you in, or of taking you to his office to report what you saw....”
The look on Brian’s face made Abby’s insides ache. He doesn’t trust you, thought Abby. There’s something else going on.
“Okay,” she whispered, taking a breath. The boy in front of her was drenched and cold. Even though Matilda had the heat set to eighty, the draft from the window was chilling the room.
“Listen,” said Abby, sliding past Brian and slamming the window shut. The hollow click of its measly lock made her feel anything but safe. “Let me get some of my brother’s clothes. Then maybe we can talk.”
Brian nodded, and folded his hands over his chest. She could feel him watching when she turned away, his eyes hot and angry, but she didn’t know why.
“Are you doing this?” he asked when she was almost at the door. “Are you making it so I feel this way?”
“Feel what why?” she asked, totally confused.
“Like I have to protect— like I have to be here for you. I mean, for all I know, you’re the killer in the water. You’re not exactly normal. I don’t know what to believe.”
“What? You’re kidding me, right? You still think I have special powers? I’m not the one whose stepfather can read people’s minds.”
“But at Emmett’s—”
said Brian. He wouldn’t meet her eyes.
“I was kidding. I wanted to scare you, that’s all. You found out my secret. What was I supposed to do?”
“But the way that I feel….” Brian shut his eyes and slumped heavily against the wall, his dark hair shining in the low cast light. She wanted to go to him, tell him she felt something too, that everything was going to be okay.
“I’m an idiot,” he whispered. He was blushing now, his face pink as the morning sky.
Silently, Abby stepped out the door while trying to ignore the strange spot in her heart that had suddenly begun to tremble and sting.
Black Waters (Book 1 in the Songstress Trilogy) Page 11