Curious, she swam closer and into the shallows. She had no urge to kill. Yet.
She meant to die anyway, so what harm could this do, to speak to a man? He held no harpoon or weapon.
“Who are you?” She wrapped her arms about the anchor rope of a dinghy and stared across the sand. “Can you see me?”
He nodded. “I can see you.”
“Oh.”
This gave rise to a dilemma. She was curious about him, but the Ravening was also strengthening. He was new and different.
“I’ve been studying your kind. You’re a siren?”
The moon was rising at his back, lighting up the sand with subtle tones.
Those few words of his had ignited her interest to heights unknown for centuries. Who was he? She must know more. And when she saw the chain that led from his leg to a vehicle parked higher up the beach… her fate was sealed. She must know more. The centuries of monotony had worn on her – of death and hunger, of an ocean full of creatures that she could not talk to.
She hungered for words.
“Perhaps I am a siren. I don’t really know. But what are you?”
He dragged off the mask and his gaze wandered over her appreciatively, she thought, dwelling on her breasts. She knew how much men loved those.
“Just a man doing some research on your kind and you… A beautiful woman.”
Not siren – woman.
She smiled at him, tentatively, trying not to show her teeth.
CHAPTER 2
“Do you have a name?” He leaned forward a little too eagerly. Or was that her imagination?
A name. She knew it but gifting her name to him seemed reckless.
Still, she said it. “Raffaela, and what is yours?”
“I am known as Wolfgang. It’s German, though my parents are not from there and neither am I.”
He didn’t smile, he merely kept watching her as if she were the most curious thing, ever.
Which she was to him, of course. When she was human, she’d read stories about sirens and mermaids and had been told of drawings too, though none of the sailors she’d spoken to had seen one.
He was studying her kind and had lain in wait for her. Had she been spotted at her coral reef? She must be more cautious.
“How did you know where to find me?”
“The news stories. Sailors tell tales about men drawn to women frolicking in the ocean. Around here, those go back to early last century. How many of those stories would be about you?”
Her?
She felt her hair lift and drop in the waves washing by. “I don’t know.” One hand sank into the wet sand on the bottom. The cool, shifting feel of it under her fingers reassured her.
“You are famous, or your kind are.”
The instinct to not reveal herself was strong and she’d never broken this law that seemed embedded in her cells. Not until now. Only those she lured saw her up close.
What harm could it do?
He held up a small rectangular object and it flashed bright light at her. Raffaela shielded her eyes.
“What is that?” She had seen them carried about.
“A cell phone. We use it to talk to each other.”
Which made no sense. She was talking to him now, without one of those. With only her eyes showing, she blew some bubbles and thought to herself. Such nonsense.
“Will you stay and talk to me for a while, Raffaela?”
An invitation. A question. How long was a while? An eternity seemed to have passed since she’d truly conversed with a man. Loneliness had whittled away at her soul. If she talked to him before she died, it would not negate the true repentance she felt for what she’d done to Merrick.
As long as she did not consume this one.
She shrank into the waves a small distance, eyeing him and the chain leading to his leg.
“Where are you going? Are you okay? Did I say something wrong?”
If she told him she could kill him when the Ravening took hold of her, he would run away. She meant to deny the hunger but if she were this close, would she be strong enough? How many days did she have? Ten? Fourteen? It was not that exact.
“I can stay and talk to you, this night.”
“This night? Tonight? Good. Very good.” For the first time, he smiled. “I want to learn about you and your kind. Your habits, your desires, your society… Everything you wish to tell me.”
Raffaela nodded, slowly. There was something about this smile of his that was strange. As if he already hungered for her, as if she had already sung to him.
She must be careful. One night only.
“Tell me about how you call to men and pull them into the sea.”
A shocking request.
The moon was behind him, placing his face in shadow and making his eyes seem black and mysterious.
She stared. He knew more than she’d thought he did. He knew she killed and had unerringly gone straight to the core of what she did not want to tell him.
“It’s okay. Did I surprise you?”
She hesitated and shifted her hold on the dinghy rope. The tide was coming in, creeping up the beach and closer to him.
“See this?” He held up the leg chain. “What sirens do is a part of legend. I knew already. This is my precaution.”
“Oh. I see.”
He hoped that would stop her from taking him? Would it work?
It was something she’d never considered. He might chew off his leg to get to her.
“Jason and the Argonauts.”
She switched her gaze to his face. “I remember that story.”
“Yes. He was tied to the mast, and his men had their ears plugged with wax, so they would not be lured by the sirens.” Wolfgang dropped the chain. “I should probably get my answer from the horse’s… from the mermaid’s mouth. Will my solution work? I said mermaid, didn’t I?” He rubbed at his lightly bearded chin.
“You did, and I could be either. As for the chain…”
She remained silent as she thought. Could she know without trialing it during the Ravening? Would it stop her killing him?
This was an important point, because if it worked, might she not have someone to talk to?
As in forever?
Or until he died. She imagined herself returning week after week. He would die before she would, but it raised possibilities. And hope.
Then her fantasy was dashed by cold logic.
She had to kill men to live.
Eyes fixed on his, she decided that even if he wanted to talk to her, forever, she would be torn by guilt. She was weary of killing. Remembering what she had done to Merrick added a final stamp to her decision.
But first, his question?
Never had she considered the possibility of killing a human on land. Imagining it made her stomach churn. Blood spilled on the sand and soaking into it. The grit sticking to her. Their legs tangling as they made love. The sticky residues of human lovemaking – she recalled that too. The dirt.
So much dirt.
The sea was clean.
Raffaela lifted her head, and she looked up at the star-strewn sky.
“If it stops you coming to me, it will work. I find the idea of going to you, there, on land, horrid.” She shuddered then ducked her head beneath the water to wash herself clean of the horrible thoughts.
“Okay.” Wolfgang laughed. “I know the chain will hold. The shackle can only be undone with a cutting tool that I left in my car. I twist in a steel rod to fasten it and must use a hacksaw to get free.” He gestured casually at the vehicle. “My car. You know of those?”