Siren's Call (Dark Seas) Read online

  He turned slowly to face her. What would she think if...

  “Was it?”

  “Was it what?” he repeated stupidly.

  “That crow. It spoke to you. When you were little, you seemed to sense an animal’s feelings. Appears it might even go beyond sensing now, like your telepathy with them has grown.”

  His mind whirled, as if taking flight with the crows and circling from above. She’d guessed correctly. Did this telepathy expand as he matured, or was it something weird about this bayou? Could be a combination of both.

  Lily rose slowly and stepped close, one hand cradling the right side of his neck. “Never mind. You don’t have to tell me anything you aren’t comfortable sharing. I’ll understand.”

  Nash wavered; the need to talk about his gift was strong, but doing so would be another bond with Lily and she would be hurt even more when he left. Rebecca’s and Connie’s faces appeared in his mind. He was toxic to women. It never ended well. He couldn’t, wouldn’t contaminate her with a lengthy relationship. She might already be infected. Nash removed her hand. “Have you gotten any more harassing phone calls?”

  “No. What made you think of that?”

  “I need to tell you about the last two women I was involved with.”

  “Okay.” No surprise registered on her face.

  “Something tells me you already know the whole story.”

  “I did hear some talk,” she admitted.

  So word of his past had followed him even here. “From Opal?” he guessed.

  Lily kept silent.

  He took a deep breath. “Rebecca and I saw each other whenever I returned from a trip. It was pretty casual on my part, and I thought it was on hers, too. But when she asked for a commitment I balked. She left that night, angry and hurt. The next morning I found out that she’d returned to her apartment and started drinking. A lot.” He swallowed. “Then Rebecca got back in her car, drove off the road and hit a tree. Doctors pronounced her DOA.”

  Lily’s lips tightened. “Not your fault. Damn it, Nash, don’t you dare blame yourself for her death. It was a tragedy—”

  “And then, a year later, there was Connie.” Now that he was actually talking about it, he couldn’t stop the flow of words. “We’d been dating a few months and I mistakenly thought I’d found a woman who could accept my long trips. But she wanted more and I didn’t. Connie ended her own life.” His throat felt dry, parched. “Overdose of pills,” he ground out past the lump in his throat.

  “Oh, Nash. I am so, so sorry.” She circled her arms around his waist.

  Her body felt smooth, cool, a balm to the burning hurt. But he stood stiffly, fists clenched at his sides. He didn’t deserve comfort. If he’d been a better man, more selfless, more cued into another’s feelings... But no. His career had always come first and there’d been some part of him that held back, that couldn’t see another’s needs.

  “Don’t,” Lily whispered fiercely into his chest. “You can’t accept responsibility for others’ mistakes.”

  Couldn’t he, though? Shouldn’t he? He stepped back and held Lily at arm’s length. “About those phone calls,” he said sternly. “Are you in some kind of danger?”

  “Not that I’m aware of. And if someone was upset with me, you can hardly think it has anything to do with you.”

  “There’s more. Before Rebecca died, she had a few hang-up calls. And Connie once said that she felt like someone was following her, although she never saw anyone or had evidence.”

  “Coincidence,” Lily insisted. “Prank calls are common and everyone thinks they’ve been followed at one time or another.” Her tone gentled. “You can’t scare me away, Nash. I’m a strong woman.”

  He wanted to believe Lily. The past few years had been a lonely, hard existence. An affair, however brief, would be a welcome return to some normalcy. Lily seemed lonely herself, a bit of an outcast. But the shrill cry of the crows replayed like an echo of a dream. Not of us. Two spirits. What was that about?

  Lily made him uneasy. He wanted a nice, normal woman who didn’t probe too deep or demand too much.

  Nash focused on the problem at hand. First hint of danger and he would leave, whether or not the assignment was finished. To linger might place her in jeopardy. But maybe this time would be safe, a kind of healing for both of them. “You’ll tell me if anything weird happens, right? And I mean immediately.”

  “You’ll be the first to know.” Lily smiled and took his hand, and Nash clasped it tightly—as if they were taking a high dive off a rocky cliff together.

  Another crow flew close by. It didn’t utter a sound, but the flapping of its wings and the glisten of its coal-black eyes were like a warning. Abruptly, Nash dropped Lily’s hand. “I’m not ready for this. Something’s...not right.”

  Chapter 8

  The warped voice crackled over a phone line so full of static Lily had trouble deciphering the words.

  “Stay away from Nash,” came the disembodied voice again. It sounded like a recording, the voice so robotic she couldn’t determine if it belonged to a male or female.

  “How did you get my cell phone number?”

  The connection terminated and a buzzing noise filled her ears. Lily sank onto the couch and frowned. She’d had her share of such calls from irate girls while in high school, and even some more sophisticated versions of the same message later in life, but none had rattled her like this.

  Nash’s former women... What if they hadn’t died by accident? Her skin crawled imagining a psycho, an unknown enemy intent on destroying Nash’s happiness. But why?

  “Stay away.” Ha! Just as they were so close, about to take their attraction to the next level, Nash had been spooked by a bunch of birds. Birds, damn it. And how was he resisting her siren’s voice? She was no closer now than when she’d first seen him at the grocery store. He drove her crazy—why not the other way around?

  Lily drummed her long, pointed fingernails on the end table, the sharp clicks a loud staccato in the old Victorian house. For the first time, she wished her mother had stayed here instead of with Jet. Adriana was still in a bit of a snit over her refusal to return to sea and was giving her the old silent treatment.

  She remembered how odd the house had felt a few nights ago—as if a lingering smell had been left behind by a stranger. But she’d never found anything out of place and had dismissed the feeling. Now she wasn’t so sure. Lily debated how to proceed.

  She had two brothers-in-law, one a sheriff and the other a deputy sheriff, but she hated the idea of getting them involved. They’d make a big stink over it and question Nash. And if there was one thing she knew, it was that Nash couldn’t know the phone calls were back. He’d leave Bayou La Siryna and she’d never hear from him again.

  Which left only one option.

  Lily grabbed her purse and, twenty minutes later, arrived at the ramshackle cottage of Tia Henrietta. It was still decrepit but much neater than she remembered from her last visit a couple of years ago. A fresh coat of salmon-pink paint had been slapped on the exterior, complemented with vibrant turquoise shutters at the windows. Bright colored bottles hung from every low-lying branch near the house. A maze of large knickknacks remained at the entrance—conch shells, bowling balls, plastic pink flamingos—but there were less of them and they were arranged with a certain precision that suggested loving care and not random neglect.

  She got out of the car, determined to tie Tia down to specifics on who was behind the calls. The woman liked to play it loose and cagey if you let her get away with it. The screen door creaked open and Tia waved her inside, as if she’d been expecting her visit.

  “Got everything already set up for yer questions.” Tia’s face was solemn and set. No hint of her usual mischievous smile, as if she knew a great secret but couldn’t share it.

  White
candles flickered throughout the small den and old framed pictures of Jesus and various saints aligned the walls, shelves and tables. Dark scents of nutmeg, cloves and cedar wood permeated the air instead of the green herbal smell she remembered from long ago. A card table and two chairs were set up.

  “Sit,” Tia said, folding her purple sarong underneath as she sat down and shuffled the tarot cards. Bold rings and wooden bangle bracelets clinked as she manipulated the deck. Instead of her usual turban, Tia’s hair was covered with a scarf. Deep lines in her face and neck were highlighted by the striated candle glow.

  Did the old woman really know why she’d come? Tia had helped her decide to go for her painting dream last time she’d visited, had intuited or pulled out the artistic dreams. She’d even guessed at Lily’s hurt over the way people of Bayou La Siryna treated her.

  “How did you know to expect me today?” Lily asked, secretly impressed.

  Tia frowned, never responding or looking up from the cards. “This time be serious,” she said in her accent, a strange mixture that Lily couldn’t decide if it was Creole or Gullah or something else all together. She handed the cards to Lily. “Cut the deck.”

  Lily moved a stack of the colorful cards from the top to the bottom and Tia asked her to select cards as she felt drawn. Lily selected a few and Tia spread them in a Celtic cross design. She flipped the cards over one by one, not commenting.

  A humming sounded on the porch, a familiar, soothing rift, followed by the creak of the screen door. A dark waif of a girl slipped into the room with a wicker basket of herbs. She scurried past them singing softly, beguilingly, from the kitchen:

  “Sweet little darling, adrift undersea

  Float with the current, mamma’s with thee

  Listen to the echo of the waves

  Sleepy, sleepy, all is saved”

  A jolt of recognition stirred Lily’s memory, turning her skin prickly with surprise. It was a song every mermaid learned at her mother’s tail fin. She joined in the mermaid lullaby:

  “And when the moon shines way down deep

  Baby should sigh and dream, not weep.”

  The girl stuck her head into the den, mouth agape. “You have the voice of an angel,” she said in awe.

  Lily stood. “Who are you? How do you know this song?”

  The girl paled underneath her olive skin and quickly scurried to the kitchen.

  “Don’t be so dang bashful, Annie,” Tia called out. “Mind yer manners and come back and say hello to company.”

  Annie entered with slow steps, head down, her long black hair a veil.

  “This is my granddaughter, Annie. She’s come to stay with me a spell, helpin’ with chores and studyin’ the ways. Annie, this is Miss Lily Bosarge.”

  So that explained the spruced-up exterior.

  “Hello,” Annie mumbled in a soft voice, face still hidden beneath her hair.

  “Git you a chair from the kitchen and join us. You need to be learnin’ the tarot.” Tia leaned toward Lily. “She’ll be takin’ my place one day. Gotta get her trained.”

  Clever old lady. Lily sat back down on the metal folding chair. “Don’t try to distract me. Tell me how Annie knows that song.”

  Tia stared back with rheumy eyes; a mysterious smile tugged the edges of her lips.

  “Of course,” Lily said, snapping her fingers. Those cloudy eyes were from a descending nictating membrane, a common occurrence with elderly merfolk. “You and your granddaughter are one of us. Maybe fifth or sixth generation removed.”

  Tia didn’t ask what she meant by “one of us.” “All people, all creatures are the Good Lord’s doing. Each of us goes back to the Garden of Eden.”

  Lily was familiar with the myth that merfolk were cast-off angels that had fallen into the sea during Lucifer’s revolt from heaven. But if Tia didn’t openly admit or say the word mermaid, then she refused to be the first to say the word aloud.

  Annie dragged a chair across the wooden floor and primly crossed her ankles and folded her hands in her lap. She kept her eyes on the floor.

  “I’m not cross with you,” Lily said. “You just surprised me singing that song.”

  Annie took a quick peek from behind her long wave of hair and Lily was taken aback by her exotic beauty. Annie had dark brown eyes shot through with orange rays that made her irises appear a unique cinnamon color. They weren’t the innocent eyes of a child, either. Lily noticed the ample breasts and the slight curve of her hips, whereas before she’d only caught the impression of a short, thin body.

  “I can’t help singing,” the girl mumbled. “The songs play in my head and I have to sing.”

  Lily turned questioning eyes to Tia.

  “It’s true. An unusual gift my Annie’s received from the spirit world. Never heard of no one else pick up music from a person’s aura.”

  And the girl sang so beautifully, not as well as herself, but the notes were pure, haunting even. Lily shook her head to clear it. Fascinating, but not why she’d come. “Let’s return to business. I need information.”

  Tia didn’t respond. The only sound in the room was the slight jangle of her arm bangles as she flipped cards.

  “Well?” Lily broke in, impatient with the silence.

  “Not good.” Tia shook her head. “Danger surrounds you on two sides.”

  “What danger?” Lily asked, not volunteering any information.

  “There are two people who wish you harm. One is much more evil than the other. One is motivated by money, the other love.”

  Two? Her scalp prickled. “I need names.”

  Tia clucked in disapproval, as if she were a recalcitrant student. “The spirits are never that open.”

  “Can you at least give me some clues?”

  Tia’s brow wrinkled and her words dribbled out slow as honey. “It’s a different person than who’s troubled you in the past.”

  “Maybe Twyla Fae. I confronted her yesterday but she swore she’s not behind my current problem.” Surprisingly, Lily had believed her. Twyla had appeared tired and anxious, fretting over her sickly child. She’d even expressed sympathy for the way Gary had created a scene at the restaurant and apologized for the way she’d acted in the grocery store. A minor miracle.

  Tia shook her head. “It’s not Twyla.”

  “If you can’t give me names, can you at least tell me why these people want to hurt me?”

  Tia scooped up the cards with a deft hand and reshuffled. She laid out two more cards. “The one motivated by greed and revenge is a male. His anger is directed more at your family, but you could be hurt in the cross fire.” She took a deep breath, nostrils crinkling. “I’m picking up the scent of fresh-cut wood. Like wood chips.”

  Carl Dismukes. Her brother-in-law’s ex-deputy who’d once blackmailed Jet over her illegal maritime excavations. His image arose, sitting at the sheriff’s headquarters whittling one of his many wood carvings.

  “Tillman fired him months ago. He’s still angry? Why can’t that old man just enjoy retirement?” He’d served so many years on the force that he’d been allowed to collect his pension. “Dismukes I can handle. What about the other person?”

  Tia tapped her finger on the Tower card. “This one is murkier. The Tower represents death and destruction.” She frowned, as if peering into a shadowed realm.

  Lily found herself holding her breath, afraid to break Tia’s concentration by even the tiniest of movements.

  “This person has murdered two persons, yet harbors no guilt.”

  Lily’s heart thundered like a herd of wild stallions. Rebecca and Connie?

  Tia looked up, regarding her with anthracite-black eyes. “You may be next.”

  The air pressed around her, thick and dense. “What should I do?” she whispered.

  �
�Talk to your family. Report the phone calls.”

  An electric tingle buzzed through her body. No! Nothing would send Nash packing as quickly as believing his presence put her in danger. “There’s got to be another way. Can’t you tell me anything else to pinpoint who it is?”

  Tia closed her eyes and laid large wrinkled hands on the table. Lily was surprised how vulnerable and frail the hands appeared. Tia was well-known in the bayou as a combination voodoo priestess/witch or gypsy fortune-teller/hustler—depending on who you asked. The woman had always seemed large and powerful and more than a little scary when Lily was younger. Lily had been afraid she’d direct those black eyes on her and pronounce her some kind of swamp monster.

  Now she knew better. Tia was one of her own kind—however distant. And she was an old lady who needed her granddaughter to get by.

  Tia threw her head back and began a guttural hum that sounded almost inhuman. Her chin snapped forward and the humming ceased. The rolling white of her eyeballs flickered before the black irises descended. “That’s one of the most evil spirits I’ve ever encountered.”

  “What can you tell me?”

  “It’s a female.”

  Well, that cut the field by half. Lily restrained from rolling her own eyes. “What else?”

  “The more evil the spirit, the more darkness surrounds ’em. Makes it hard to identify. Night and shadows stick to ’em like fly paper ’cause they don’t want to be seen for what they truly are. They cower behind fog and veils and any trickery they can nab.”

  A loud, dissonant humming erupted. Lily jumped and stared at Annie. The girl’s eyes were wide and their cinnamon rays glowed like jack-o-lanterns around the black pupils. Her lips moved as if she had no control over the jerky rhythm and nonsense words coming out. Tia placed an arm over her granddaughter’s shoulder and the wildly pitched chanting slowed, giving way to a mournful parody of a children’s song.

  “Ring around the rosie

  Pocket full of posies

  Ashes, ashes

  We all fall down.”