Sea God's Siren (The Brother's Keep) Read online

  Chapter 3

  Come To Me

  The half-man, half-fish swam to a rock and hoisted Syrena onto it. She gasped for air, while he positioned himself next to her, a portion of the great length of his tail touching her thigh.

  When he shifted and turned toward the one his heart loved, she was pushing strands of wet hair from her face. She edged back when he reached out, touching her. With tentative motion, he proceeded to handle her lovely long hair, gently sliding seaweed back in, weaving them together in braids, grateful that she decided to let him.

  He stopped, hand lingering mid-air before he cupped his palm over her hand resting on the rock. “My name is Dagon,” he said.

  She glanced in his direction without seeing him. “Mine is Syrena.”

  “I know.”

  “But how?”

  He sighed deeply. “I’ve watched you for a very long time.”

  “You’re an undersea creature . . .”

  “Yes.” His answer carried the smile he felt warming his face.

  “A merman?”

  He chuckled. “I often come close to shore, at the same hour you stroll the beach each day with your sisters.”

  Syrena’s jaw moved, her mouth quivered, as if she sought words. He could tell she found his answer perplexing.

  “I’ve longed for you to enter the water. That you would see me as I do you.”

  “Yes, that . . . Why is it that I can see beneath the water’s surface yet not above it?”

  He squeezed her hand, reaching for her other one too. “It’s difficult to explain—”

  “But you have the power to give me sight?”

  Dagon gently folded her fingers and brought her hands to his lips. He brushed a feather-light kiss across her knuckles. “The power is not mine, per se, but I can lead you to vision if that is what you desire.” In a way, through his immense selfishness, he wanted her to abandon all she knew and join him. In another way, he didn’t want to doom her to a life in an aquatic prison, as that would be the cost. They were not his terms but terms all the same, and there was little he could do about that.

  He told himself that he only wanted to hold her again. Then he’d let her go. But now as she sat next to him, their having touched lips and hands, he wanted more. As he dried, his tail transformed to legs, unbeknownst to her. And evidence of his masculinity, of his desire for her, grew all too clear.

  Dagon crushed her lips once more and then dove into the water. A moment later, he floated near her feet in the wake, watching her intently, loving her in silence.

  She spoke. “How do I get back, to my home?”

  Dragon lowered his head. He wouldn’t force her to come to him. The decision would have to be hers alone. He elevated her feet and kissed each toe then sighed. “I will take you back.”

  After he lifted her down into the water, they lingered in each other’s embrace.

  “You sound so sad,” she said.

  “I am.”

  “Are you sick?”

  “If you consider love a sickness.” He helped her onto his back and proceeded to swim with her above water.

  “Oh, but I want to see again. Just a glimpse into your world? Another peek at you?”

  Such longing filled Syrena’s voice. It pained him more. The emotion grew unbearable.

  “Syrena,” he whispered, lowering her down into his arms again.

  She stared blankly at him. “Why does it seem as if I already know you?”

  “Take a deep breath,” he said before going under, then ushered her to shore.

  Chapter 4

  Legend

  Over breakfast the next morning the mood was quiet, strained. Syrena couldn’t manage her secret any longer. Words spilled out before she again blinked. “I could see while under the water.” She took a loud sip of her tea then set it down, the cup clinking noisily into the saucer as she attempted to fit the two together.

  “Nobody can see in the deep,” her mother said. “It’s dark and murky—”

  “I did,” Syrena challenged, feeling the tension escalate around the table. “As well as any of you do right now.”

  “Well, that’s just your imagination likely, a vision maybe.” Her mother paused. “Perhaps you fainted from staying under for so long, lack of oxygen . . .” She huffed. “And I do wish you’d watch after Syrena more, girls.”

  “Don’t cry, Mum,” Steffi said, her voice quivering.

  “And you think I coddle her too much!” Their dad yanked the napkin from his collar and slapped it down on the table. He got up and left the room.

  After her mother sighed and the room grew still again, Syrena said, “I’m not imagining it. And there’s something else . . .” She didn’t know if she should admit it. Maybe she only dreamed the encounter after all. She tinkered with the teacup in its saucer, mindlessly turning it while vacillating. “I met someone.” There, she said it.

  Gwyn giggled. “Where? In the ocean?” When Syrena didn’t answer and instead lowered her head in a strange embarrassment, Gwyn quieted. “Our sister’s gone loony,” she whispered. “Well, fine. Let’s have it then, who did you meet?” she asked with insolence.

  “A merman.”

  “Ooohh—” her mother cooed.

  “Loony!”

  Steffi started crying.

  For some reason Syrena started to cry, too. She moistened her lips. “He told me his name is Dagon.” She continued, stuttering, fearing her own lucidity. “He-he was . . . he was very handsome.”

  “Of course. They all are,” Gwyn flailed her arm in jest.

  “And kind.” Syrena opened her mouth, closed it, then opened it again. “He kissed me . . .” She bit her lower lip, remembering. Yes, a real kiss, she felt sure of the incident.

  Gwyn raised her palm. “Hold up. Kissed you . . . how? Like a brother?”

  “No, not like a brother,” Syrena said quietly. “With passion.” She fingered her lips this time, recalling the unmistakable flame.

  The room grew silent, except for the faint tick of an antique timepiece.

  “I-I felt as if I’ve met him before.” She feared what her family would think. That she had gone mad. She pulled at the neckline of her dress that suddenly felt too tight against her collarbone.

  Her older sister said, “How could you have when you’ve never stepped foot in the water!”

  “She has.” Her mother’s voice came out so soft that all three of the girls begged her pardon.

  Syrena had whipped her head toward her mother’s voice. The impulse jarred her neck. Her hand migrated upward to rub out the stiffness while she gestured with the other, expectant. She almost couldn’t catch another breath.

  “Yes. You won’t remember. When you three were still young, Syrena, in her dawdling, fell from the jetty and into the water. She disappeared so quickly. We searched for her for days.”

  Really? Syrena contemplated, searching for truths. Why couldn’t she recall any slight bit? Surely something that dramatic would have carved a scar in her memory during the earliest impressions of childhood. She rubbed her temples.

  Her mother drew air between her teeth at the remembrance of the tragic event. “About to conduct a service in memoriam—she was lost to us, you see—” She started to weep. “Here Syrena suddenly shows up standing on the beach, unharmed, as good as gold. Only . . . blind.”

  Syrena gasped.

  “So she had sight before this accident?” Steffi asked.

  “Yes.”

  Syrena wrung her hands.

  “Why haven’t we heard this before?” Gwyn demanded.

  Her mother paused. “Well, what is the point? Anyway, I suppose this is where Syrena gained her fear of the water. She’s always been impressionable.”

  “Mum, I’m sitting right beside you . . . please don’t discuss me as if I’m not here.” She huffed and balled her fists in her lap. Yet, what plagued her most was that she had unknowingly lived a spell when she had sight!

  After a pause, her mother contin
ued. “At that time, she told us of an underwater kingdom and a boy with a tail of a fish who hid her, took care of her so she wouldn’t die in an element she couldn’t normally breathe in, survive in.” She gestured toward Syrena. “How could we believe her? She was just a child with an overactive imagination. Yet . . .”

  “What?” All three girls leaned in.

  Syrena blinked rapidly. Forced the lump down her constricted throat with a gulp.

  “Where else was she during those days? When we found her, she was still plump and hadn’t starved. Her skin was silky, as if she’d been soaking in a milk bath, and there was seaweed, along with beads of pink coral, meticulously braided in her hair.”

  Syrena fingered her scalp, wishing she would’ve refrained from washing the woven seaweed out of her hair after she’d returned home last night.

  “You could have told us, Mum,” Gwyn said. “And all this time we’ve been trying to get her to swim. We panicked when we saw her shooting down the launch and then disappearing for a spell. Scared the life right out of us! Well,” she addressed Syrena, “you won’t be going into the water on our watch—and it’s always our watch.” Gwyn crossed her arms.

  “Do you believe me then?” Syrena asked with timidity.

  “Pshaw! I don’t know what to believe.” Her mother flicked her wrist as if shooing a fly. She refilled her teacup, took a short sip then a longer one, then said, “There is a legend.”

  “What legend?” Syrena and Gwyn both asked, eager to listen, while Steffi cowered.

  “About the Lodians.”

  “Hope we aren’t about to get an earful about native moss,” Gywn said, reclining.

  “Lodians?” The other two girls insisted.

  The mother drew in more hot tea. “Yes, yes. An ancient oceanic race,” she said, rolling her eyes. “Like your merman, Syrena.” She blew, trying to cool the amber liquid. “The story goes, they were all destroyed but one. The survivor, a male, out of great sorrow, tries to take his own life, but then one appears claiming to be his true mother, though not the one who’d raised him to that point. She offers him protection and companionship, but keeps him under such close watch it’s almost as if he’s imprisoned. He’s lonely, this merman, and seeks a mate. The mother won’t have it, won’t release him.”

  Gwyn snorted. “Just how old is this merman supposed to be?”

  “Ancient,” the mother said. “They say Lodians can live a very long time.”

  Turning to Syrena, Gwyn asked, “How old was Dagon?”

  “In his prime. Beautiful,” she mused.

  “Huh,” Gwyn said. “It all sounds magical and lovely . . . but a giant load of crap!”

  Steffi giggled with shifty eyes.

  “Girls!”

  “Sorry, Mum.”

  After another pause, Syrena asked, “What does the legend say about what destroyed them?”

  “Oh, I don’t know.” The mother flipped her hand again. “Something about a sea snake that tempted, arranged deals with them. They faltered and began dying, killing each other, losing hope. Cursed, I suppose.”

  “He seemed so sad. Dagon, I mean,” Syrena offered with swelling emotion.

  “Yes, well, I would be, too, if I had a domineering mother,” the elder cackled.

  The girls glanced at the one who raised them, their lips tight, each fidgeting their hands.

  The matron witnessed their reaction and hesitated, stumbling on her next words. “Well, I don’t know your story beneath the deep, Syrena. I’m only so, so grateful you aren’t lost to us then or now. I may be hard on you girls, but nobody can love you more than I do.” She slurped her tea this time, setting the cup down with a clank. Then she sighed. “I don’t much believe in these stories of Lodians.” She stretched the name. “All the same, be careful near the water, girls . . . Syrena. I’ll not lose you.”

  She rose and started clearing the table. Steffi promptly joined her. “Legend has it they believe in soul mates,” her mother added with indifference. “And that once their mate is found they never let go.”

  Chapter 5

  When Souls Meet

  For weeks Syrena begged her sisters to escort her down to the water’s edge. She could think of nothing else.

  “No way,” Gwyn replied.

  “But you used to always try to get me to go splash in the waves. Pestered me is more like it. Why have things changed so drastically?” Frustration churned in her.

  “Well, because. Now we know things we didn’t before. It’s not safe—and we’re always looking out for you, Syrena, whether you like it or not.”

  Steffi said, “We may be your pestering sisters, but we’re your heart and eyes, too.”

  “Not to mention, you’ve changed drastically.” Gwyn crossed her arms. “Before, we had to practically drag you to the shore. Now you, at the very least, want to dive in clothes, shoes, and all! And it’s because of that Dagon. I’m certain that it is.” She harrumphed. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were in love with this-this sea god,” Gwyn grumbled as she continued to fold clothes.

  Syrena stuttered, “I-I doubt that he’s a god. Just . . . well, just a merman I-I think . . .”

  “Just a merman. Oh, can you hear what it is you’re saying, or are you deaf, too?”

  Syrena lowered her chin, fighting the raw emotions that threatened to form tears.

  “Gwyn, that’s so cruel!”

  “Oh, hush up, Steffi. Make yourself useful and go fetch the rest of the laundry.”

  When Steffi left with quiet speed, the moment lapsed into an eternity. Syrena’s cheeks grew hot, yet she kept her unsteady voice low. “Why does it bother you so much, Gwyn?”

  She didn’t answer right away. “I’m tired of looking out for you.” Gwyn sighed. “Mother strictly forbade us from going near the water at all.”

  Syrena could hear Gwyn flapping fabric as if shaking out a yet damp blouse. “She told you this . . . behind my back?”

  “What do you think! Everyone’s so careful not to hurt your feelings. Tiptoe, tiptoe, all the time. Got to feel sorry for Syrena, poor Syrena, she’s blind and can’t help her—”

  “I’ve never asked for help, never ever wanted to be a burden to—”

  “Well, you are.”

  Syrena choked back the fresh lump in her throat.

  “You know how much we love the beach and the water. Because you have nothing else . . . here, with your incredible imagination, you happen to find love with a Lodian god in the magical deep,” she overdramatized, “and we’re all punished for it. Now Mum won’t let us have any fun at all,” she whined.

  “I’m not making any of this up.” Syrena tried to stand her ground, yet her voice quavered.

  “Oh, I don’t believe for a second that a merman actually exists. I think you’re full of rubbish or touched in the head. Lately, I can’t decide which it is.”

  Syrena fought to keep her jaw from hitting the ground. She gaped toward Gwyn, before realizing her sister had left the room.

  After Syrena had felt and shuffled her way to the bedroom that she shared with her sisters, she shrugged into her nightgown and curled into a ball atop her bed, greatly saddened. Facing the wall, avoiding conversation with anyone, she remained there, skipping dinner, into the night.

  Later, when she knew Gwyn and Steffi had fallen fast asleep, Syrena carefully rose. She smoothed back the covers with as little rustling as possible. With hands extended in front of her, she picked up and placed one foot after the other in an exertive effort to move without a sound. Determined, she propelled forward.

  Syrena didn’t bother putting on a coat or shoes. She opened the front door in a slow, tedious manner so as to avoid the usual wood on hinge squeak. After a few deep breaths, she gulped, and then forged away from the house alone for the first time.

  The path down to the jetty wasn’t as difficult to navigate as Syrena had anticipated. She had taken the trail many times, only with a sister on each arm. The trek hadn’t seemed as daunt
ing when it’d played out in her mind just a few moments ago. But the wind pushed her, made her sway, unsteady, on her legs. When she reached the pier that ran on the inside of the jetty, she heard waves crash against the nearby stone walls. In fact, the wind howled in a number of voices. The sound grew shriller as she ventured down the wooden planks, until she realized the voices were that of her sisters calling for her.

  Gwyn and Steffi caught up to her. “What do you think you’re doing?” Steffi cried, aghast. “You’re not leaving us?”

  Syrena could feel the brush of their nightgowns against her bare legs. “N-no, it’s not like that. I only wanted to see him again. He’s real, I know it . . . I think.”

  While Syrena’s brow furrowed, Gwyn hollered with shock in her voice, “Syrena, there’s a man at the end of the pier. And he’s . . . well, he’s . . . all man!”

  “Oh, my stars, he’s naked.” Steffi shielded her eyes, while Gwyn responded with a naughty grin.

  Dagon. Syrena mouthed his name, then heard a splash.

  “Oh, bother! He just dove into the water,” Gwyn said. “Now we can’t talk to him.”

  “Is that your Dagon?” Steffi asked softly.

  Gwyn snorted. “Steffi, has anyone told you that you’re gullible?”

  “I am?”

  Syrena ignored their banter. “Yes, that’s him.”

  Gwyn huffed. “Well, where did he go?” She balled her hands on her hips. “He has to come out sometime. It’d be a shame for such a fine specimen to drown.”

  “He’s a merman. He can’t drown. The sea is his kingdom.” Syrena looked after him though she couldn’t see him, and she longed to see him.

  “Why can’t I meet somebody like that?” Gwyn asked as she pivoted, guiding her sisters back up the pier toward home.

  Steffi tittered.

  “Wait. Give me a minute.” Syrena turned and shuffled to the side of the pier. The high tide nearly closed the gap between the sea and the bottom of the planks. She sunk to her knees, then her stomach, and reached in.