The Siren Princess

by Lichelle Slater

  I wondered what it would feel like to be eaten.

  A cannonball followed by another slammed into the squid. A surge of color burst across the squid’s body, a silent explosion before its tentacles released me. Unconscious or dead, I didn’t wait to see. I fought for the surface and gasped for breath the instant I broke through the waves.

  James swam for me, one arm and then the other pulling him swiftly through the water.

  “What are you doing?” I shouted at him. “Do you want to get eaten too?” I kicked my fin to swim toward him, only to feel an explosion of pain through my right side so intense I cried out.

  “What happened?” he called, drawing nearer.

  “I cut myself with my dagger. It’s not a big deal.”

  James finally got close and reached out with his left arm, remembered he didn’t have a hand, and extended his opposite. “Come on, I’ll get you back to the ship.”

  “Oh, now you want to be a hero?” I laughed at him. “No, thank you.” I pushed his hand away and started swimming past him.

  “Odette, I’m sorry. Look, I didn’t mean—”

  “To throw me overboard or have me get attacked by a kraken?” I glared over my shoulder at him. “Because you sure meant to throw me overboard.”

  He flinched. “I shouldn’t have reacted like that.”

  “But you did. And here I am.” I continued toward the boat.

  A group of men had lowered one of the rowboats into the water and were working on separating it from the ropes when ripples of red and white light ignited beneath me.

  “James!” I shouted.

  Tentacles shot up all around me, provoking the waves into a fury of movement that sent me crashing into one of the tentacles. It gripped on to me and dragged me back down into the darkness yet again.

  This time, however, the initial panic and terror were gone, and I wasn’t going down without a fight. I held fast to the dagger in my hand and transformed into a siren before it could get the better of me. I kicked my tail and slashed the thick tentacle.

  It reacted by slapping me with the tip of a smaller tentacle. I saw a burst of white and shook my head. But the slap had stunned me, and I’d dropped my dagger. I watched it disappear into the inky blackness.

  I had no weapon. No way to fight.

  I pushed against the tentacle, managed to wiggle my slippery fin out of its grip, but only for a moment before it moved and regripped me before I could escape. Frustrated, I screamed with all my might.

  The tentacles tremored with a yellow flash of light, and I had a thought.

  If a siren could use her song to lure a sailor to their death, was it possible my voice could have another effect in a different way? Could I use my voice to stun the kraken?

  From the corner of my eye, I spotted James swimming toward the kraken at full-speed. The kraken’s gaze was locked on me, distracted by my attempts to escape. It never shifted its murky, disgusting eyes toward James.

  I sucked water in my mouth and let out another scream.

  Once again, the body trembled with yellow light and the tentacles curled. This, of course, caused the kraken to draw me uncomfortably close to its body, only feet away from its beak-like mouth.

  Through the dim light radiating from the kraken, I saw James’s body.

  Not a human body, oh no.

  The body of a siren.

  He had a shocking red tail with a black fin along the back, thin and wispy in the water. His black hair moved in the water with the same rippling movement. In his hand, he had his long, deadly, captain’s sword. And he led with it toward the monster’s head.

  Its beak opened.

  I gasped three more times to get enough air to scream one final time, then squeezed my eyes shut, anticipating the feeling of being crushed by the powerful creature’s mouth.

  Pain didn’t come.

  I thought it had put me in its mouth and swallowed me whole. But the tentacle’s squeezing slowly ebbed, and I felt something much smaller grasp my arm. My eyes shot open, and James put his wrist nub on my cheek.

  “It’s just me! It’s me,” he soothed. His voice sounded odd in the water—muted, yet crisp.

  I looked down.

  The kraken’s body began to sink. The colors that had once glowed in the dark were gone, and it wasn’t long before the form disappeared completely, sunken into its grave.

  “You’re a siren!” I shouted, moving my eyes back to James’s face.

  “Back to the ship.” James swam for the surface, dragging me along with him.

  “James, I demand an answer!”

  “We need to get you back on board and take care of your wound. You’re getting blood in the water, and now with the kraken’s body, we’re extremely vulnerable to other creatures.”

  My heart rate began to slow down as we made it to the surface. The adrenaline was gone, and pain in my right leg radiated up into my hip and down to my toes.

  “You can return to your human form by thinking about it,” James explained.

  “I know.”

  I didn’t mean to rely on him so heavily to get me to the surface. I didn’t want to rely on him for anything, but I could barely move my fin independently. “It hurts when I change back,” I complained.

  Stars appeared in my vision.

  My tongue felt fuzzy.

  We made it to the surface, and James used his left arm under my arms to keep me above the water. I didn’t know if it was working, transforming back.

  James’s head tilted. No . . . it was my vision.

  “Odette, you’re pale.” He looked down as if he could look through the water. “Is it your leg? How deep did you cut?”

  A wave crashed against me, and something pumped into my back. I jerked, thinking it would be the squid again, but it was James’s wretched hat.

  “There they are!” Sky called. “James, we’re almost to you!”

  I had no strength left. I couldn’t even move my legs.

  “Odette,” Sky gasped. He grabbed under my arms and hauled me onto the floor of the small boat.

  I coughed and closed my eyes, trying to keep my breathing even.

  “Why in Poseidon’s ocean did you jump overboard at this time of night?” Sky scolded.

  “Oh. You know. Perfect night for a swim,” I replied sleepily.

  James grabbed on to the edge of the boat. “I think she’s lost a lot of blood.”

  “From what?”

  He shook his head. “I heard her scream.”

  I felt Sky lay something over me and peeled my eyes open enough to see his sea-worn blue jacket over me. I broke into a coughing fit.

  “She’s bleeding,” Sky announced. “Badly.”

  My head lolled to the side when I tried to get a look.

  James grunted as Sky pulled him into the boat and he winced as he climbed in. He was naked, and another sailor handed him a jacket too.

  The lamplight shone enough to expose the red hue to the wet spot beneath me and a nasty-looking cut to my right thigh.

  Absently, I reached down and touched my leg. “I cut myself with the dagger . . .” I pulled my hand away and my fingers shone red.

  “Don’t think about it.” James grabbed a handkerchief from one of the men and pressed it against my cut. It looked so tiny compared to the wound.

  I winced.

  “You got her?” someone called from the ship.

  “Aye!” Sky shouted back. “She’s hurt. Fetch medicine and supplies!”

  “I’m just fine. It’s only a scratch,” I protested.

  “You might’ve cut something inside,” James muttered, squeezing so hard, I cried out. “I know. Shh. I’m sorry. We’ve got to stop the bleeding.”

  I pushed feebly against him, not realizing he was trying to help me to my feet. We’d somehow alrea
dy made it to the ship. Had I blacked out a moment? Sky and James grabbed me under the arms and pulled me to my feet.

  “I can do it myself,” I mumbled.

  “Oy, you can’t stand,” Sky protested.

  “I’ll get her up. Help me get her over my shoulder,” James said. “Keep the jacket wrapped around her.”

  “James, this is unnecessary.” I put my left leg up on the wooden rung.

  “You sure you got her, sir? How are you going to get you both up the ladder with one hand?” Sky said, meaning no disrespect by it.

  “I can manage, Scuttle.”

  Hands grabbed my hips, and Sky adjusted his jacket on my waist before putting me over James’s shoulder. I tried to protest but couldn’t open my eyes. I felt James rise to the ladder.

  Sky patted my cheek and tried to move my damp hair from my face.

  “Pull the ladder up,” James directed.

  The ladder suddenly jolted and began to rise. Pirates worked together to pull the ladder, dragging us up the side of the ship until we finally reached the top.

  Gerard lifted me from James’s shoulder carefully. “She’s pale. Lost a lot of blood.” He lifted the jacket and hissed. “That cut is nasty. We’ll need to stitch it. She’ll need ointment to prevent infection. Do you have anything like that in your stores?”

  James landed on the deck and shook his head. “I don’t know. Let’s get her to my room. Put her on my bed. We need to get her dry, so she doesn’t catch a cold. See about the wound.” He swooped his left arm under my knees and his other arm around my shoulders, taking me from Gerard. “Stay awake.”

  “I got your hat.” I motioned. “In the boat.”

  James didn’t even look at me. His brows pinched and his eyes were tight with worry. Worry? He was worried about me? “Get rum, bandages, and a needle with whatever medicine we’ve got,” he repeated. He carried me directly to his cabin.

  “Just put me down.” I tried to wiggle free while he carried me to the left side of the bed. “I’ll be okay.”

  “Will you stop squirming?”

  My legs slid off his left arm, and he nearly dropped me but somehow managed to set me on the edge of his bed. I wiggled to try and get up, but he grabbed my shoulder firmly.

  “Odette. Stop. Now.”

  I blinked away the pressing darkness. “Would you treat any other sailor like this?”

  “You aren’t any other sailor.”

  “Yeah. Because my mom is the pirate queen,” I mumbled.

  “No.” He kept his dark eyes on mine. “Because you’re not like anyone else.”

  In my fuzzy mind, I saw a genuine look to him. He cared.

  “You need to get out of your wet shirt, and we have to wash out your wound. Every sailor knows those two things,” he insisted.

  “You didn’t need to throw me overboard to get my clothes off.”

  His neck grew pink, and a smile tugged at his lips.

  I gave him a weak grin in return and gave up fighting him.

  Gerard walked through the open doorway, his arms laden with blankets, rum, and a small box of medical supplies.

  “Odette,” James said gently. “Let me take care of you.”

  I didn’t like it. But I also decided I wasn’t stupid enough to try and make it below deck on my own, let alone try and change into dry clothing, or even take care of my cut alone. I’d seen men die of infections from a small cut on their hand. Even if I didn’t want to admit it aloud, I knew the cut on my leg was in great danger of infection. And I was completely fine letting James help me.

  “Gerard, fetch me her clothes, please? You can leave the things here. Close the door so we can give her some privacy. I may need another bottle of rum.”

  Gerard set the pile of supplies on the bed at my side, then left, closing the door behind him.

  James helped peel my shirt from my body. Through a half-lidded gaze, I watched him avert his gaze while he held a blanket out toward me. “Can you manage your undergarments?”

  “Yes.” My fingers had no sensation, my arms felt like logs, and I knew I couldn’t get anything off without help, but I still tried. Until I couldn’t. “Would you mind?” I glanced at James.

  His eyes darted to me. Pink crept into his dark cheeks, and he deliberately took the bottom of my shirt. His fingers were warm as they brushed my exposed skin. I hadn’t realized until that moment how cold I was.

  “I’m sorry.”

  I blinked at him.

  He was apologizing. Actually apologizing.

  James wrapped a blanket around me. “Now, I’m going to empty this bottle on your leg. It will hurt.”

  I licked my lips. “I didn’t mean . . . the hat . . . it was an—”

  “No,” he cut in. “It was my fault. I never should have . . . done that. Thrown you overboard.”

  “I was trying to flirt,” I replied, sighing.

  James met my gaze and touched my cheek. “It was still foolish of me.”

  “It’s not like I helped,” I admitted. “I mean I did throw your hat overboard. That’s very important to you.”

  He looked down at his hand. “I swore I wouldn’t be a captain like my father.”

  “Why not? He’s greatly respected.”

  “I think you mean feared. It is very different.”

  “What do you mean?”

  He shook his head. “You look down on me because of my father’s relationship with your mother. He will do anything to maintain his reputation. I mean anything.”

  There was a knock on the door, saving him from further explanation. “It’s Gerard. I’m back with her clothing.”

  “Come in.” James grabbed the cork and yanked it out of the bottle of rum, then held my leg carefully over the side of the bed.

  The gash started at the front middle of my thigh and moved down and out toward my knee. It was definitely bigger than a scratch.

  “You missed the kraken,” James pointed out, giving me a smile that made my heart skip.

  “I cut through the kraken,” I corrected. I grabbed the rum from him and, before James could pull it from my lips, managed to get three big, burning gulps down my throat.

  “That is for your leg.” James plucked it from my fingers. “Gerard, help her with a shirt, will you?” He didn’t warn me before tilting the bottle and pouring the burning liquid into the wound.

  I couldn’t suppress my scream. I gripped my thigh above the gash with both hands and squeezed in an attempt to prevent the pain from continuing up my leg and into my body.

  Gerard put his hand on my back, keeping me upright.

  It didn’t work, and I gasped for breath.

  “Sorry,” James said for the second time that night.

  There was a knock, and the door opened a crack. “It’s Sky. Can I help?”

  James’s jaw flexed before he pressed a towel against my gash. I thought for certain he wouldn’t want to deal with me on my own. He pressed hard enough to bring tears to my eyes, and I looked away while trying not to bite through my bottom lip.

  “It’s better if he helps,” Gerard pointed out.

  “He’s just going to stitch me up, and then I’m going to pass out,” I grumbled.

  Sky climbed onto the bed. I knew he was being kind, but I found myself wishing he were James. I’d always sort of known my relationship with Sky was more out of convenience. We’d grown up together, so moving forward into a relationship had been expected. But to have me suddenly longing for James . . . I had definitely lost too much blood.

  “I’ll leave you to it,” Gerard said, looking only too happy to leave.

  “Get me another bottle of rum?” I called to him.

  “Sure thing.” He turned and left.

  “Okay, I think her wound is pretty clean now. Thread that needle and I’ll get it stitched up,�
�� James directed.

  “That’s really bad,” Sky observed.

  James shifted his attention from my leg. “Don’t you faint on me! Odette is going into shock and probably going to pass out soon. I don’t need you passing out too.”

  “Yeah,” Sky said weakly.

  “Since I only have one hand, I’ll need you to push the wound together as long as you can while I stitch. Can you manage that?” His brows furrowed with worry.

  Sky nodded but paled.

  James looked at me with those big chocolate eyes of his. When our eyes met, I felt my whole body tremble. “You’re going to be okay. Ready, Sky?”

  Sky wrapped his hands on my thigh and pushed the wound together.

  Tears stung my eyes, and a wave of nausea washed over me the moment of the first needle prick. My eyesight blurred, and I swayed. At the same time, the pressure from Sky’s grip disappeared.

  James spat a curse and yelled for Gerard.

  The last thing I saw before caving into the darkness was James’s handsome eyes and their intense worry. “Hang on!”

  ten

  Metal groaned on metal with the motion of the ship rocking side-to-side. The familiar grating whine of a swinging lantern dragged me from my nightmare, out of the darkness of the ocean and away from the tentacles of the kraken.

  When I opened my eyes, I found I was lying on a bed, and as my eyes blinked into focus, I discovered I faced someone’s back.

  The stuffy air stunk of stale cologne, infection, and sweat.

  In the orange-pink hue of the sunlit room, I watched the shape beside me rise and fall in deep, soundless breaths. The sunlight spread across the bed through the warped windows, discoloring everything in the room with the same orange hue.

  Dawn.

  My gaze traveled the shape of James’s bare broad shoulders, and I couldn’t help myself but to reach out and trace the shape of a siren’s tattoo on his shoulder blade. My gaze continued to the scar on his ribs and on down to the exposed hip bone barely covered with a sheet.

  His black hair spilled across his pillow, and I moved my hand to the side of his face to smooth that hair. He wasn’t awake to know what I was doing. I could actually admire him without hiding it behind anger or bitterness.