Chapter 13

Chapter

Thirteen

Hundreds of photos later, Reid secured the camera and the other evidence he found onboard Gale's Promise in a zip-top plastic bag and sent the bundle up to the helicopter in the basket lift. They'd pushed the limit of their fuel reserves collecting evidence, but there was an oncoming storm pinging on radar, and they couldn't risk losing what he'd found, namely the ship's log and security camera system's memory card.

There hadn't been time to truly read through the log, but Reid had spotted at least one damning entry a few months back.

No mermaids, no sanctuary. $10,000/lb.

It was so alarming he'd taken a photo of it.

The merfolk had exacted their vengeance in a horrifying show of blood and carnage, there was no doubt about that, but he couldn't find it within himself to pass judgment. And maybe that made him a monster, but after seeing the mermaids in the freezer, both executed with a cattle gun, then commoditized, he couldn't bring himself to feel ashamed.

Reid stood on deck awaiting his turn, sucking in lungfuls of fresh sea air, trying to purge the scent of death. He wanted off this graveyard of a ship stat, but taking care meant taking time, and he'd rather Hatcher move slow and sure than jeopardize the evidence. This was the first serious proof they had and could turn the tide of the investigation in the merfolk's favor. Not only was Nautic involved in black market trade, its fishermen were committing murder.

Worry for Nireed gnawed at his gut. She could be hurt and in need of medical attention, but with no way to find her, there was nothing he could do. Beyond getting this evidence safely into the hands of his commanding officer and CGIS, he was completely and dismally useless.

A strong gust of wind rocked Reid on his feet, and he braced the starboard-side railing for balance. The temperature was dropping, the waves kicking up, too, all signs that the storm that pinged on their radar was nearly here.

"Oh shit, incoming!"

It was the panic in Hatcher's voice that had Reid jerking away from the side, half expecting a pissed off mermaid to launch out of the water.

"What's going on back there? What do you see?"

A blur of motion caught the corner of his eye. Something falling, then hitting the railing with a solid crack, before toppling over into the ocean. In that split second, Reid saw it.

The evidence bag.

Camera. Ship's log. All of it.

"Reid, leave it!" Hatcher yelled. "It's not worth it."

Reid didn't think. He just leapt.

Celia was safe. They'd gotten her back, thank the Twenty-Armed Goddess. Now, Nireed just had to get to shore, had to explain what happened to Reid. If he thought the bloodbath had been without just cause, he and his people might retaliate. And hers would be utterly decimated.

Groaning, Nireed clutched her bleeding side. One of the fishermen's bullets had raked across her flesh, leaving behind a gaping gash.

In the chaos that followed the fight, Nireed separated from the rest of the pod, but not before telling Melusina that she needed to make things right with Reid. Someone had to know she was on a mission, and not missing, which her friend acknowledged with a nod, but she was also so preoccupied with safely towing Fortuna, a badly injured podmate, that she didn't argue with Nireed about her injuries.

Fortuna was the only reason Celia was still alive.

As the pod raced toward the little one, caught inside the rapidly cinching net, Fortuna, one of their fastest swimmers, ascended the depths at a dangerous rate. She darted up inside and took Celia into their arms as it closed, shielding her with their body from the mass of trapped fish pressing in.

Nireed would never forget seeing Delphine slam against the net from the outside, would never forget hearing her friend's anguished screeching as she tried clawing her way in. But with the net squeezing in tight, it was a wall of fish-flesh she was fighting her way through, not just the net itself. The whole pod joined in on the frantic effort until Undine redirected them to the boat above.

They scaled the side, braving Surface Dweller guns when their singing did not work against the crew's ear-protection. Not that it saved them in the end. Rage, necessity, and a desire to protect and to kill had launched Nireed into motion.

She'd lunged for the fisherman who was shooting her kin from behind a deck box, ripping the upper portion of his head clean off, but also took a bullet to her side for the trouble.

Everything after that happened so fast. Screaming. More gunshots. Screaming. Then silence. Someone had even shut off the engine. Or smashed it to bits, more like. It had been a rescue, then aggressive self-defense. Some retribution, too, and a show of strength, but Reid had to understand that. He had to.

Nireed swam on, each mile passing slower than the next. Her strength was flagging. But she had to keep pushing. If she stopped, if she passed out, she was shark food.

And one had been tailing her since the fight.