by KB Benson
What? I ask confused. The clan is going to leave me here to clean up their mess. Why?
Please, sister, don’t treat me like a fool. Damion and I know how you’ve failed. And now the clan knows, too. You’ve abandoned us, and now we are abandoning you.
I didn’t abandon you, Asthen. Didn’t I bring a feast today? I shudder at the word feast. Jaxon is not a feast.
I suppose so, Asthen thinks eyeing Jaxon; but I want a bite of the other male, the dark-haired one you’ve been keeping all for yourself.
I lose my voice. I don’t want to bring Jace into this.
Since when do you make the calls? I ask.
Tsk, tsk, sister, she continues, ignoring me. Didn’t Mother ever tell you not to fall in love with your prey? You’ve brought this all upon yourself, Iris.
I can’t breathe. I just watch Asthen. Maybe I did abandon my clan. Maybe the moment I let Jace have a claim on my heart with the ocean is the moment I turned my back on them.
This is the end. We’re going to clean out the supply here before we move on. Thanks for the happy surprise. Be safe. Or don’t. Asthen shrugs and presses her lips to Jaxon’s mouth, breathing for him as they begin their descent again.
I float for a moment, digesting this new information. I still need Jaxon. My confusion turns to anger—my clan is turning against me? Me? After all I’ve done and sacrificed for them? I will not let them get away with any of this.
Asthen!
What? she shouts, annoyed at being interrupted.
I need Jaxon.
Her brows furrow in confusion, so I nod toward the squirming boy grasped in her hand.
She laughs a hypnotic, sinister laugh. Iris, you know me better than that. I am not giving up my prey for this little game of yours. Now be off; you shouldn’t even be here, traitor.
She begins her descent again. Jaxon gazes at me, the one who he will follow. I press my pointer finger to my lips. I know he can hear me; he’ll do anything I want even in the grip of my sister—a monster.
The flow of the ocean gives me strength, strength I thought would be lost to me forever. I know I can do this.
I swim horizontally away from Jaxon, his gaze following my path, until I can barely see his and Asthen’s figures sinking. I descend with them about fifty meters away. Siphoning a deep breath of oxygen, I speed toward the pair, ramming into Asthen’s side. Her grip tightens around Jaxon’s leg, and he’s dragged along with our spiraling bodies as we barrel through the water.
Asthen stabs at me with her tail, the sharp, knife-like tip aimed at my back. I spin under her body and grab her tail, ripping at her scales. Losing scales is one of the most painful experiences for a siren, just short of drying up like autumn leaves. I’d lost most of mine when Damion shunned me to the coast of California; now it’s time for Asthen to learn how it feels.
She screams and whips her body around, her hands grabbing at my skin. I jab her in the face with my elbow, aiming for her eye, before bringing my other elbow down across the top of her head. Suddenly a sharp pain fastens to my shoulder; I inhale harshly at the sting that grows in intensity with each passing second. My body stiffens, paralyzed. I can’t think of anything except ridding myself of the embers bursting into flame inside my body, trailing from my shoulder through my chest and arms. I try to raise my arms, but they’re useless. I try to kick, but my legs won’t work. My head falls back from the strain of trying to hold it up, and I see Asthen’s pointed teeth firmly planted in my flesh.
The immediate pain is no new sensation to me. I remember in detail the slicing, burning, and unquenchable pain that carved the Perfuga into my perfect flesh so long ago. The brand on my neck pulses with Asthen’s venom. Asthen had used her teeth then, under Damion’s order, as well.
Asthen rips her sharp teeth from my skin, floating a few inches back, looking for her next bite. My body is useless as Asthen’s teeth attack a new series of muscles on my neck. I gasp at the new sense of searing pain. It’s against the siren’s code to bite another siren—that’s how we attack our prey not our brothers and sisters. Whether or not I believe I’m a traitor, I know for certain I’m not Asthen’s sister anymore.
My head bobs forward with the water—I can’t do anything. I try to scream, but all I manage are small wisps of water. Asthen releases me, and her melodic laugh reverberates through the ocean.
I’m sorry, I think to Jaxon. I don’t know if I can save him. I don’t know if I can save any of them—not even Jace. I can’t move.
Asthen’s hand, the one clutched around Jaxon’s ankle, floats near my bobbing head. If I could just muster enough energy for one movement, that’s all I’d need for one quick snap. The paralysis still courses through my veins like a thick jelly, but the fire of my determination, the fire behind my desire to feast burns stronger.
I run my tongue over my teeth, feeling the sharp points that grow when a siren is about to feast. Just when the heat of my desire reaches its climax, a burst of energy courses through me. I latch my teeth onto Asthen’s pale and perfect wrist. Her eyes bulge as the pain swells in her arm. I bite harder, but she doesn’t let go of Jaxon. I release and bite again. A small gasp escapes her lips. I continue gnawing away at her. Silver blood flows through the ocean around us—whether it’s mine or Asthen’s, I’m not sure. Just before I chew clean through her tendons, Asthen releases Jaxon.
In a heartbeat, I wrap my arm around his back and under his arms; and we swim as fast as we can for the surface. I have no idea where my energy comes from to move my body, but I don’t care. I escape with Jaxon in tow. Asthen’s voice flows through the water: the traitor has entered the depths of the ocean and is stealing humans. Anger ripples among the refreshing waves turned red and silver with blood, and I swim faster. We break the surface of the ocean, sunlight burning my eyes.
When the sun stops bathing the world in white, a pit sinks in my stomach. The shore has just as many people on it as before. And among them all is Jace.
Chapter 29
IRIS
A few of the boys and girls have miraculously survived the chaotic massacre and have almost reached me near the edge of the feeding ground. Their eyes sparkle with the summons of the song I sang to Jaxon. This doesn’t make any sense at all.
Jace’s feet push through the sand, trying to tear himself through the plethora of hands holding him back from the ocean. I never thought I’d be grateful for how humans meddle in every other human’s life. I kick my feet harder to pull Jaxon and me through the water toward Jace. The ocean is just as crowded as the beach, however; and swimming is nearly impossible with heads poking around the swells of the ocean, legs propelling each person toward me.
“Move,” I order all those mesmerized by my spell, and they open a small path to let me pass. I lock my eyes on Jace.
Even from where I swim, I can hear him calmly saying to those holding him back, “It’s okay. I’m okay. I know what I’m doing. I need to go help.”
Jace can’t get in the water. The clan wants him more than anyone. If his feet touch the water, the sirens will drag him under before he’s even waist deep. I pull myself harder through the waves. Without my tail, towing someone is a lot harder and a lot slower. I try not to think about the progress I could make if I just let Jaxon go. But I will not let him go. He’s mine and he’ll live no matter the cost I have to pay.
About twenty feet from shore, the swarm of bodies thins. I ignore the fact that a few of them are tugged under the water within arms’ distance of me. I keep swimming.
An earth-splitting vibration reverberates through the water. Glancing over my shoulder, my eyes bulge. A wave cascades over my head and throws off my sense of direction. Heaving Jaxon toward the surface—toward oxygen—I stall my escape as the world around me spins.
When I’ve gathered my bearings, I propel myself to the surface. Pure rage floods the ocean. In the distance, siren after siren emerges from the water and slips back in, looking like a school of bloodthirsty dolphins. More screams erupt
at the sight of the murderous creatures speeding toward the shore.
“C’mon, swim, Jaxon!” I shout. Jaxon paddles next to me, not nearly going as fast as he needs to. I use all my muscles and all the effort I’m capable of to drag us toward the sandy beach. This time the sirens aren’t coming for the humans. They’re coming for me. As I pull us toward the shore, Jace breaks through the throng of humans who’d been tethering him back.
“No,” I gasp. Ducking my head under the churning water, I pull us even faster through it without the resistance of the waves. Fear strikes my core as thousands of sirens emerge from the depths of the sea, eyes glowing white for the harvest.
Don’t think, just swim. The army of sirens is practically on our heels as we reach the shelf. They’ll be slower on the shelf than they are in the open ocean—we might have a chance.
We surface only ten feet from shore, my feet plunging into the sand as the water level reaches my thighs.
“Run!” I scream to everyone who can hear me. Those who haven’t touched the water, and those around me, turn and race for the shore. Jace stands at the water’s edge. Don’t do it, don’t get in. “Jace, run!”
He doesn’t move but holds his arms open. “Iris,” he calls back. “C’mon, faster!”
I’m only a few feet from shore, but so are the sirens. Pushing Jaxon ahead of me, I shove him out of the water. Jace’s hand reaches out to me; my fingers touch his just before my feet are pulled out from under me. Involuntarily, a scream slips from my throat—a scream of fear, a scream of emotion, a scream of the abandonment of my clan. I flip onto my back as the siren whose hand wraps around my calf drags me back toward the ocean. Pure evil is etched into his face, this monster. We are all monsters.
I kick and clutch at the sand that’s washed away with the crest of each wave. Water splashes wildly as I thrash, but my efforts do nothing. Dozens of sirens emerge from the water around me, more heads appearing with each second. The siren whose stone-like grip holds me captive crawls on top of my body, pinning me down in the water.
This is it. This is the end. Jace, run.
A flash of color whips above me, smacking into the siren restraining me. I tip my head back. Jace stands ankle deep in the water holding a surf board and breathing heavily. The other sirens lunge toward me; but Jace already has his arms underneath mine, yanking me to my feet and onto the sand.
The moment my feet are on dry land Jace locks his hand around mine, and we run. I push my feet through the warm sand and glance over my shoulder to check if others have escaped. The chaos is distracting, but most everybody who was still alive has made it to shore. A siren pulls herself out of the water onto the sand, and an explosive sound erupts into the sky. The siren falls lifeless from the bullet in her chest.
Jace softly pulls my chin around so I can’t see the massacre on the beach. “People are fighting whatever those things are. Don’t listen, just focus on your feet.”
Chapter 30
JACE
I help Iris sit down at the base of a grown oak tree shading the corner of Derby Park from the world. The twisted, moss-covered branches curl around, wrapping this way and that, separating us from the mayhem just a few miles away.
“Are you okay?” I place my hands on both sides of Iris’ cheeks.
Her pale, blood-drained face stares straight through me. Iris doesn’t look well at all—dark red shadows line her sunken eyes, subtle blemishes mark her flawless skin. I stroke the dark locks of wet hair hanging lank over her shoulders. Her eyes don’t hold the cool, confident, calm aura they usually do. No, they look erratic and frightened—not that I’m surprised. Her skin looks different too; it cracks like drying paint. Iris stares at me for a few minutes before shaking her head back and forth, tears slipping from her glassy eyes.
“It’s okay, sweetheart.” I wrap her in my arms so she rests against my chest. “You’re safe now. You’re safe.” I really don’t know if she’s safe—if any of us are for that matter.
Iris tugs at her t-shirt, the one I’d taken off and wrapped her in as we fled from Davenport Beach, and pulls her bare legs up into it. Tears still slip down her cheeks; but only one sob bursts through her lips before she takes deep, steady breaths. Within minutes, she has herself under control again.
“No, Jace. No, we’re not safe.” Iris breathes faster. “This is all my fault. I did this. How did this even happen? How could I have been so foolish to think Damion…?” Iris lurches onto all fours and heaves into the bushes near the large oak.
“Iris.” I rub her back and try to hold her hair out of the way. “None of this is your fault.”
When she finishes vomiting, she rolls back into a sitting position resting her back against the tree. “What happened?” she begs, not expecting an answer. “How many just died because of me?”
I don’t know how to answer any of her questions, so I just keep my arm firmly wrapped around her. Iris is obviously not in her right mind. I have no idea what’s happening either; but she’s insane to think she has anything to do with it, that this could be her fault in the slightest. I have a brief flashback to Mr. Demonas explaining Iris’ history of love and the ocean. That’s where her first love was killed; of course, she might feel responsible for this.
We sit in silence for a while. I try to make sense out of what I’d seen at the beach—eels with human heads and torsos charging the shore, waves of blood foaming against the sand, Iris trapped in the middle of it all. Iris is right; it doesn’t make any sense.
I look to Iris, wanting to comfort her, but refrain as she stares at her dark green toe nails digging into the dirt. Slowly, Iris tilts her head to me, her hair falling over her shoulder slightly covering her face. She looks at my eyes—more like into my eyes—searching for something. I let her look as long as she wants without saying anything.
Iris breathes a sigh of relief. “They’re gone.”
“What’s gone?” I ask, unable to stay silent.
“The sparkle.”
“Oh.” I touch my eyes. “That’s good but probably doesn’t matter a whole lot right about now…”
“You have no idea.” Iris shakes her head. “I can’t tell you how glad I am you’re alright.” Iris rests her forehead in her palm and tilts her head to face me. Her eyes droop. “What happened?”
“I’m not sure. Everything was fine until Chase’s movie ended. The moment it was over it was like somebody pushed play and pretty much all the students stood, marched out of the auditorium, and ran away from the school.”
“Pretty much all of them?” Iris asks innocently, a little bit of hope in her voice.
“Yeah. I mean I didn’t, so I assume there must have been others who didn’t.”
Iris furrows her eyebrows. “If you weren’t hypnotized like the rest, then why did you come down here?”
“Well, I knew something was up when I’d gone to sit down after my set and you were gone. I figured maybe you’d just stepped out; but when you didn’t come back, I got worried. And then when everyone ran from the school grounds, I knew something was wrong. I snuck out a side door and followed them.”
We sit quietly for a moment or two.
“Wait,” I interrupt our silent thoughts. “What do you mean ‘hypnotized’?”
Iris sighs, resigned with whatever secrets she’s hiding. A spark of hope flickers in my chest—I might get some answers. “Those students were hypnotized somehow. Why else would they have sacrificed themselves to the slaughter in the ocean like that? Nothing should have done that.”
I’m still not sure what we saw was even real. “I have no idea.”
We sit in silence for a little longer. Iris chews her bottom lip, her secrets threatening to burst through them.
“What are you thinking about?” I ask.
“I’m a fraud, Jace,” Iris whispers. “You have no idea who I am. I can’t be trusted.” Iris’ eyes glaze over again as she mutters, “I can’t be trusted. I can’t be trusted.”
“I do trust you,”
I whisper.
“Well, you shouldn’t.” Venom drips from her voice even as she digs her toes deeper into the dirt nervously. “Jace,” she says slowly, “I have something I need to tell you. About me.” Iris’ gaze is glued to her hands.
“You can tell me anything, Iris.”
Iris shakes her head, tears gathering at the corners of her eyes and spilling down her cheeks. She tips her head back and wipes them away. “I’m not good, Jace. I’m not like you.” I start to protest but she interrupts. “I’m not human, Jace! I’m not human...”
“What?” The word bubbles from my throat with a laugh. I’d expected something like admitting to having feelings for Jaxon, not that she’s inhuman. Iris is messing with me, but I’m not sure why after what just happened. “C’mon, Iris, tell me the truth.”
She glares at me with her dark eyes, the dark that is hauntingly beautiful, the dark I can’t look away from; and a pit sinks into my stomach as her eyes bore into mine. My heart thuds in my chest followed by the urge to run away as I sense the truth in her words. Iris is dangerous—there is no denying that. I feel it in my soul even if I don’t want to admit it.
“I am telling the truth.” Her tone leaves no room for argument.
I still don’t know if I should believe her, but she looks serious. I don’t know what to do except play along. “So,” I say, rocking out of Iris’ reach, “if you aren’t human, what are you?”
The energy in her body leaves, her confession consuming her. She opens her perfect lips enough for one word to escape: “siren.”
“A siren?” If Iris had said anything else, I wouldn’t have believed her; but ever since our Mythology project I have to admit she would make a pretty good siren. She has always looked different from other girls. Now that I think of it … less human. Still I never imagined something like this was even possible.
“Do you believe me?” Iris asks, a subtle tremor supporting her voice.