Up to No Good: The Siren Island Series, Book Two

by Tricia O'Malley

  “Shuffle the cards,” Aurora said, handing the cards over to Lola. She took them, feeling their age in the worn corners and the energy that zapped through them. She shuffled, admiring the dainty faded floral design on the back of the card, wondering what it was she was here for. This certainly wasn’t her first time visiting a psychic or tarot card reader – Lola embraced all kinds of divination – so she knew she needed to focus her intention on what she wanted to learn from the cards. Schooling her mind to stillness, Lola tried to let her energy flow into the cards, asking for her next direction in life.

  Aurora mumbled in Italian as she took the cards back and began to flip them open on the table in an intricate design, working her way through a large portion of the deck and fanning them out in a circle.

  “Oh, those are lovely,” Lola gasped despite herself, and leaned forward to examine the images depicted on the cards, where mermaids cavorted with men, danced beneath the waves, or basked in the wan moonlight on dark shores.

  “Grazie,” Aurora murmured, her eyes intent on the cards as she tapped her finger on the table. Then she turned her gaze to Lola. “You are in a time of transition.”

  “More or less.” Lola shrugged. She was always in transition, so this was nothing new to her.

  “Here,” Aurora said, bringing her clenched palm to her heart. “In your soul. Transitioning. Ascending.”

  “Is she sick?” Miriam gasped, reaching out to clench Lola’s arm.

  “No, in her path. What she’s here to learn. Her soul is ascending. As though up a ladder to the next level, you understand?” Aurora said, tapping her finger on a card where a mermaid held a mirror to her face. “This is a time of big soul growth. Lessons to learn.”

  “I see,” Miriam breathed, leaning over to look at the card.

  “Aren’t we always learning, though?” Lola asked, her eyes meeting Aurora’s.

  “We are. But this time period is big for you. You feel discontent. The cards say it is time for a new venture,” Aurora pressed.

  “An adventure!” Miriam clapped, delighted.

  “A venture. Like a business venture,” Lola clarified, and Aurora nodded her agreement.

  “Well, you were just talking about that this morning, darling,” Miriam said.

  “I was,” Lola agreed.

  “What should she do?” Miriam asked, her eyes searching the cards.

  “She must take all her skills, all her travels, and funnel them into one spot,” Aurora said, waving her hand in a circle in the air.

  “Easier said than done,” Lola argued. “There isn’t really a job that encompasses all of my talents.”

  “Isn’t there?” Aurora said, pursing her lips as she studied the cards once more. “I don’t believe that to be true.”

  “Plus, I don’t want to work that hard for something I don’t love,” Lola said, feeling a frisson of frustration work its way through her gut. “I am more than content with the money I earn from my freelance gigs. I don’t need or want for much; I always can make money if I need it.”

  “This isn’t about money, but about joy,” Aurora said.

  “I’m joyful,” Lola burst out, but even to her it sounded defensive.

  “You see, you work for others all the time. You may love what you do, but you would love it more if you… how do you say? Umbrella.” Aurora held up her palms and made an arching motion over their heads, the bracelets at her wrists tinkling. “Put it all under one umbrella. You. You must sell you.”

  “I don’t know that I’m that interesting of a brand,” Lola murmured.

  “You underestimate. You’ve learned much. Use it,” Aurora said, her eyes back on the cards. “But the opportunity is not yet here. You must travel.”

  “So there is an adventure. Perfect. Where to?” Miriam asked, leaning forward once more.

  “La sirena.” Aurora tapped a card and looked up, narrowing her eyes at Lola. “This makes sense to you?”

  “It does,” Lola said.

  “Where?” Miriam looked between them.

  “There’s a man,” Aurora continued, ignoring Miriam’s gasp of excitement.

  “There’s always a man,” Lola said, her eyebrow raised.

  Aurora studied the cards some more before looking back at Lola. “This one matters. Pay attention,” she said.

  “They all matter. Until they don’t,” Lola argued.

  Miriam sighed. “I suspect I am guilty of teaching you that,” she said, sadness etching her pretty face.

  “It’s not a bad thing, Mom,” Lola said, turning to her mother in surprise. “You’ve taught me to be independent, to stand for myself, and to – no matter what – know that I can find my own happiness. That’s an incredible lesson.”

  “But, my darling, there can be such joy to allowing a partner to share your life. I’d hate for you lose that opportunity because you’re too busy moving on,” Miriam said.

  “Like you have?” Lola asked. The words sounded harsher than she meant them to, which was reflected in Miriam’s wince.

  “I will always believe in love. It may make me seem silly or flighty to the outside world, but I’m a hopeless romantic and I plan to be until the day I die,” Miriam said.

  Lola immediately leaned over to press a kiss to her mother’s cheek. “You are perfectly imperfect, mother of mine. And I couldn’t have asked for a better role model. You’re right, I shouldn’t close myself off to the possibility of love.”

  “You’ll know,” Aurora mused, having leaned back to watch them both. “You have the sight.”

  “You do?” Miriam gasped, turning to measure Lola.

  “I mean… I have something,” Lola admitted, shrugging it away. It wasn’t something she thought of or examined too deeply.

  “How have you not told me this?” Miriam demanded.

  “The sight is private. You share it when you are ready.” Aurora nodded her head, setting her scarves in motion.

  “I guess I’d say I’m good at reading energy, I know when people are lying, and I get flashes of the future at times,” Lola said.

  “You can see the future?” Miriam’s voice went up an octave.

  “Just flashes. A gut knowledge. But it’s not like divination. I wouldn’t be able to say to you, ‘You’ll get this big promotion and move to Portugal.’ It isn’t until after something happens that I’ll look back and realize I knew what would happen,” Lola said, struggling with how to explain her gifts.

  “You can train,” Aurora said, sweeping the cards back into a neat pile. “You can teach yourself to become better.”

  “I don’t know if that’s what I want,” Lola admitted.

  “You’ll know, if the time is right, when to delve deeper,” Aurora said, and held out the deck of cards. “A gift.”

  Lola leaned back, her hands in the air, and shook her head. “I can’t take your cards. These are a work of art. And the years of energy! No, please. This isn’t necessary.”

  “I insist. They’re meant for you,” Aurora said, and nodded her head toward a shelf covered with boxes of tarot cards, in every material and color. “I know when a deck has chosen to move on. These are for you.”

  “What a splendid gift, Lola. You must take them. The artwork on the cards alone – well, you could study it for days,” Miriam gushed, beaming at Aurora.

  “La sirena. Remember her. She is here,” Aurora said, touching her chest once more.

  “Thank you, Aurora. You’ve been very kind today,” Lola said, and reached out a hand. The psychic grasped hers for a moment, her gaze steady, as a warm rush of energy pulsed through Lola.

  “Allow change. It’s the only way you grow,” Aurora murmured and released Lola’s hand.

  “I feel like I’m constantly changing. I’m the least routine person I know, aside from my mother,” Lola said as they stood to leave.

  “That is your normal, then, yes?”

  Chapter 4

  The plane, a little twelve-seater, dipped on a gust of wind as it banked r
ight and circled over the island. Lola, still groggy from a day of travel, blinked her eyes as they cut through a single chunky cloud and sun exploded onto the turquoise water below.

  Siren Island beckoned, as it had since the day Lola had stumbled on a travel blogger’s posts about the sleepy island in the Caribbean, and she’d known – deep within – that something awaited her here. Perhaps it was why she’d all but shoved her friend, Sam, onto a plane headed for this island when she’d recently had a meltdown after a particularly bad time in her career. Now Sam was living here fulltime, and Lola couldn’t ignore the call of the island. On the face of things, she was visiting to check on her friend and meet her new man, but Lola knew there was more. La sirena, the psychic had murmured, and Lola had known it was time. Time to visit Siren Island, time for a reassessment of her life, time for whatever waited for her here to come to fruition.

  Granted, she probably should have checked if Sam was going to be on-island before she’d impulsively booked her flights, but by the time she’d reached her friend, Lola was already on her way to Amsterdam for her connecting flight. Luckily, Samantha would be heading back to Siren Island shortly. In the meantime, Lola had booked a room at the Laughing Mermaid B&B – the same place she had pushed Sam into booking a room at not so long ago. Perhaps it was the name, or the gut feeling, but Lola had known it would be just the medicine her best friend needed.

  And now, as the plane bounced lightly on the single lane tarmac, she wondered if it would be the same for her – if that which called to her had the power to save her.

  “Welcome to Siren Island.” The flight attendant continued with his welcome speech, but it was lost on Lola as she turned the name over in her head. Siren Island. The Sirens had always been a particular point of interest for both her and Miriam, and they often sourced pieces of art that depicted mermaids and the like from around the world for clients. There was an endless fascination with these beings of the deep – ones who lived life on their terms – and Lola was hypnotized by their myths, as was much of the rest of the world. A little buzz of excitement hummed through her as she ducked through the small door and clambered down the steps leading to the tarmac to wait in the sun by the side of the plane as they unloaded the few pieces of luggage.

  Lola typically traveled with a leather backpack, the contents of which she’d honed to create as easy a travel experience as possible. She carried few clothes, all brightly patterned or plain black to hide dirt; one swimsuit; a pashmina that could double as a blanket or a beach cover-up; two pairs of shoes; one hat; and a canvas jacket. Her laptop and notebooks went into the tote that she carried with her. She liked to pick up extra accessories and items when she traveled if she needed to add more spice to her outfits. One thing Lola had quickly learned as she’d wandered the world was that you could wear the same outfit several days in a row without most people paying much attention, and switching up a scarf or jewelry could quickly update an outfit. She laughed a little as she thought back to her first years traveling around the world and all the luggage she’d lugged around – for what? Nothing but headaches and bags lost on their way to Tokyo.

  Lola smiled her thanks at the baggage porter and swung the backpack over her shoulders, tucking her burnished amber braid back and sliding silver aviators onto her face to block the unrelenting sun. Following the small line of people, she breezed her way through customs where an agent flirted with her, offering to give her his own private tour of the island. Lola politely declined.

  It wasn’t uncommon for men to flirt with her. With her tumbling hair, generous curves that had embarrassed her when she was younger, and a mile-wide smile, Lola seemed to appeal to the baser needs of men. She supposed it didn’t hurt that once she’d discovered the joys of sex and the companionship of men, Lola had embraced a more worldly approach to taking lovers. She’d always enjoyed men and was of the opinion they were to be sampled – much like canapes from a passing appetizer plate at a party.

  Speaking of appetizers… Lola’s attention was caught by a man striding across the parking lot of the small airport. Wasn’t he delicious, Lola thought as she studied him from behind the cool shade of her sunglasses. Gilded hair tumbled out of a small leather cord tied at the nape of his neck. A faded linen shirt, sleeves rolled – and buttons opened lower than necessary in Lola’s opinion – revealed a deeply tanned chest where several necklaces tangled together. Fitted army-green pants covered muscular legs. The man waved a hand, shouting something to someone across the parking lot, and throwing his head back to laugh when the man responded. Ignoring the punch in her gut at his inarguable appeal, Lola rolled her eyes lightly behind her glasses.

  She knew his type: faintly European, somewhat exotic, well aware of his manliness, and likely to have throngs of gaggling women – usually twenty years younger – hovering around him. Her suspicions were immediately confirmed when he greeted a group of women who had, moments before, been standing around arguing with each other. When their eyes landed on the Adonis walking their way, every woman in the group had immediately straightened and checked her hair. In moments, he had the group laughing and simpering around him.

  Lola shook her head as she moved toward the taxi stand. But even she wasn’t entirely immune to the man’s appeal, and she glanced at him once more – to find him staring at her. Holding his look, Lola was surprised to see his mouth tighten for a moment before he gave her a subtle nod. Lola returned it, refusing to smile – refusing to acknowledge the age-old awareness that ran straight through her, screaming that this man would be a part of her life.

  “Lola?”

  Lola turned, blocking from her mind the images of her tumbling into bed with the golden man, and smiled at the woman who approached her. With salt and pepper hair falling almost to her waist, an easy flowing dress in the colors of sunset, and a smile that lit her face, Lola knew this had to be the owner of the Laughing Mermaid B&B, whom Sam held in such high regard.

  “Irma?”

  “Yes, welcome,” Irma said, folding Lola into a hug. Her touch was warm and welcoming, and Lola instantly knew two things.

  She was home.

  And the woman who hugged her was not entirely of this world.

  Chapter 5

  This was one of those times that Lola wished her extrasensory sight was stronger than it was. She was dying to know more about Irma. Energy seemed to crackle around her like a live wire. Lola was surprised Samantha hadn’t mentioned the sheer impact of this woman. That being said, Samantha didn’t read people the same way Lola did. God love her, but Sam was as different from Lola as a cheetah from a tortoise.

  “I’m delighted to finally meet you,” Irma said, gently tugging Lola’s bag from her shoulder and putting it in the bed of a dusty pickup truck. “Samantha has told us so much about you.”

  “I hope all good,” Lola said automatically, unable to stop her gaze from sliding out the window to look for the sexy man in the parking lot. “I don’t always have the best reputation.”

  “Those are the best reputations, to my mind at least.” Irma chuckled as she shifted into first and headed toward the edge of the small airport parking lot. “You’re not living life right if there aren’t at least a few people talking about you.”

  “I like that,” Lola laughed. “It’s a more positive way of looking at being judged.”

  “People just judge what they fear,” Irma said, her eyes following Lola’s. “Handsome, isn’t he?”

  “Who? Oh,” Lola said, openly ogling the man at this point, “handsome and knows it, I’d say.”

  “I like a man with confidence.” Irma followed the slow-moving line of cars exiting the airport.

  “That’s the truth of it, isn’t it? We want our men with backbones, and then get annoyed when they stand up to us,” Lola nodded, her grin widening as the man turned and met her smile through the window. Even from here, she could feel the pull of him, and his long slow smile only served to let her know he was nothing but trouble.

  “Gage
isn’t a doormat, that’s for certain.” Irma laughed again and waved, shaking her finger lightly in Gage’s direction, and he blew a kiss. “He knows what he’s about. Don’t mind him. For the most part, he’s harmless, though I don’t think you’re the type to have any trouble handling men.”

  “No, I most certainly don’t.” Lola watched as the group of women swarmed Gage once more. She deliberately turned her head away from the sight, batting down the feeling of annoyance that threatened her. What did she care if this man was a flirt? For god’s sake, she didn’t even know him. “Though I love a holiday romance as much as the next person, I’m not particularly interested in a dalliance this vacation. I’ve other things on my mind to sort out.”

  “Well, I’d never let the sorting out of life get in the way of a dalliance, but that’s just me,” Irma laughed. “You could do worse than Gage.”

  “I likely have done worse than Gage,” Lola agreed. “But that’s neither here nor there. I’m just looking forward to seeing what I hear is your gorgeous villa and relaxing.” The Gages of the world would just have to wait.

  “Your wish is my command,” Irma said, pulling into the street. She kept up a stream of chatter as they wound their way through a tiny downtown and up a road that eventually turned into a dirt road before Irma turned at a small mermaid statue tucked at the base of a tree. With virtually no other indication or sign that there was a street, Lola was certain she would have missed the turn if she’d been tasked with finding the B&B from the airport on her own.

  “I like the vibe of this island,” Lola commented, biting her tongue to keep from asking more about the particular vibe that Irma gave off. “It’s not overly developed, and it seems… real, somehow. Not like some fake tourist destination where everything is shiny and perfect. I like places that feel authentic.”

  “That’s kind of you,” Irma said, pulling to a stop in front of a pretty white-washed villa tucked among the shade of several large palm trees. “I’m particularly fond of this island, myself. I’ve been here my whole life. I couldn’t leave it if I tried.”