Chapter 34

Chapter

Thirty-Four

"This is The Lovely Lorelei . We have eyes on The Seriphus ."

Killian and his crew. They found it.

Adrenaline coursed through Reid's veins. It had been two hours since the collision. A lot could happen in that amount of time, and it was making him downright antsy considering the possibilities, but he needed to stay calm and focused, or he wouldn't be any good to anyone.

The last they'd heard from sector, three FBI agents from the Boston field office were being flown out to a Coast Guard cutter patrolling off the coast of Portland, which would take them the rest of the way, but it would be at least ten more hours until they arrived on scene.

Perez checked the coordinates Killian gave against their current location. "Thank you, Captain. We'll be there soon. Hang tight."

Reid waited for a more explicit "do not engage" directive, but it never came. The corner of his mouth ticked up in a small, half smile. While he couldn't in good conscience professionally condone a bunch of local fishermen storming a fish factory, personally, he'd no problem with them sticking it to the Man, especially since they just might be Nireed, Lorelei, and Lila's best chances of getting out alive.

Be careful, Killian.

"Would you look at that?" Perez exhaled, her awe unmistakable.

Reid leaned forward.

Ahead, a ring of local fishermen had encircled The Seriphus , the whole lot of them boxing the factory ship in, rendering it immobile. While Perez began updating their sector command, Reid dug out a pair of binoculars. The Lovely Lorelei was there, Wind Catcher, Reel ‘Em In , Never Better, and many, many others. It looked as if all of Haven Cove's offshore roster had joined the party.

On The Seriphus , ten or so crew members were sitting in a group on deck, their arms behind their backs. He'd no way of knowing for sure, but it looked as if they'd been bound. Odd. Had the fishermen boarded the ship and subdued the crew?

There hadn't been enough time for that unless they waited until after the action was already over to report The Seriphus 's whereabouts…

Reid scanned the length of the ship, catching a flash of red, before doubling back.

"Well, I'll be," he murmured, hardly believing his eyes.

"What are you seeing?" Perez asked.

That was his sister on deck, lowering a ladder over the side. Killian and several others used it to climb onboard.

"Would you believe me if I told you I recently found out I have a half sister?"

Perez glanced over, arching a brow. "Funny time to bring that up. Can't tell if you're pulling my leg or not."

"I'm not." He pointed to the deck of The Seriphus . "That's her, mid-deck. Lorelei Roth."

"One of the civilians we're out here looking for?"

"Yup." She'd as good as rescued herself. "She's got at least ten of the crew tied up on deck."

Perez's brow climbed higher. "What does she do for a living?"

"She's a museum director."

"What, she put them to sleep with history facts?"

Reid snorted, continuing to scan the deck. He didn't see either Nireed or Lila, which made his stomach clench, but no reason to panic yet. They might be below deck keeping an eye on the remaining crew. "I need to get down there."

"Thought you might say that." Perez called back to the dropmaster. "Get the hoist ready."

Reid geared up as Perez brought them in close. Clipping into the hoist, he was lowered on deck, where Lorelei was waiting.

"You get around." She grinned, as he touched down, pulling him in for a hug.

"You good?"

"Yeah. They sedated us, but mine wore off first." She gestured to the tied-up crew. "Figured I'd make myself useful waiting for the rescue to arrive." Her voice dropped to a whisper. "A little siren song goes a long way."

"Where's Dr. Branson?"

Lorelei waved for him to follow. "Had to carry her up."

A dirty-blond-haired white man and an older Black gentleman he recognized from his sister's wedding photos were crouched across the deck with Dr. Branson. She was conscious and sitting up on her own, but barely, her head lolling back and forth with a deeply dazed expression.

He began heading their way. "Is she okay?"

"Whatever tranquilizer they used is taking a while to wear off."

Crouching down, he quickly introduced himself to the men caring for Dr. Branson and learned they were her husband and father, both members of Killian's crew, while he checked her vital signs.

"She's going to be fine," he assured her family. "Just really groggy. But to play it safe, we're going to fly her back to shore and to a hospital, okay?"

"Can one of us go with her?" Dr. Branson's husband asked, cradling her head to keep it steady.

"Afraid not, but she's in good hands, I promise."

He updated the helicopter team and got Dr. Branson situated inside the basket lift, all while worry gnawed at his insides. Where was Nireed? Why wasn't she on deck with everyone else?

"Did Nireed make it onboard?"

Lorelei's face fell, unsettlingly grim. "She did."

"Why are you giving me that look? Is she all right?" If any one of those fishermen laid a hand on her…well, let's just say he was about to lose his job. And probably go to jail.

"As much as one can be. She saw some rough things below deck, black market kind of stuff. I was just about to take our friend Jackie down there to film some b-roll and document the operation Nautic had going on here." When he blinked at her blankly, she continued, "She's a reporter. Covers the local fishing industry for the Haven Cove Daily ."

"What's her name again?"

"Jackie Gaten."

That rang a bell. He'd seen the name before, and recently. Filtering through the last few weeks' memories, he snagged on the elusive thread. Jackie Gaten was the reporter who wrote the special interest piece on The Merry Mariner's deceased crew.

"Legal cases take time, but there's plenty onboard she can use to eviscerate Nautic in the court of public opinion. We've got them, Reid."

They finally had enough to pin the corporation to the wall, but Reid only nodded dimly, distracted by his worry for Nireed. Whatever she'd seen must've been really bad. His gaze swept across the deck again, looking for his brave mermaid.

"She's up in the pilothouse, guarding the captain, but before you go up there"—Lorelei laid a hand on his arm— "I think you need to go below decks first. See it firsthand. So you can understand."

The radio crackled in his ear. "Your sister needs to come too," Perez said. "Protocol and all. But if you want to stay, I'm sure I can come up with a reasonable excuse."

"She's right." Lorelei sighed, hands on her hips. "It would look weird if I didn't go. Raise too many questions. But do consider what I said. And be careful. Nireed is angry and grieving."

And with that, his sister turned away, wasting no time in saying her goodbyes. Once she'd finished, he helped her get clipped into the hoist.

Watching Lorelei's ascent into the helicopter, he said to Perez, "I'm staying."

"Figured. Our second helicopter is on the way. Should be here to replace us in about ten minutes."

"Copy that."

It was Killian who ended up going down below decks with him—the reporter, too, a petite, fluffy white-haired woman with a camcorder. It took every bit of self-restraint Reid had to follow his sister's advice and not just beeline it to Nireed. She must've had a good reason.

He'd never forget what he saw onboard Gale's Promise. The broken bodies, the dismembered limbs, the fisherman missing the top part of his head, ripped away at the jaw. Nireed had contributed to that, but this time, whatever carnage they found would be all hers.

Jackie went down first. "It's like a horror movie down here," she whispered, gently panning the camcorder from left to right.

It was dead quiet like Gale's Promise .

The factory ship should've been loud, boisterous, its assembly line equipment a constant mechanical clamor, but it was so quiet Reid could hear the ocean on the other side of the hull, waves lapping against the side.

Busted florescent lights flickered in and out overhead. Claw marks slashed across the walls, leaving deep gouges. And bullet casings littered the floor. There were crushed headsets and guns with their barrels twisted too.

A force of nature had ripped through here, leaving destruction in her wake, but where was the blood? The bodies? The rest of the ship's crew and factory line workers? Aside from a single set of smeared, bloody footprints, there was nothing but a strange, unsettling stillness.

Reid's stomach clenched. The bloody footprints had to be Nireed's. And right now, she was alone in the pilothouse, hurt. Why hadn't Lorelei said anything?

Their footsteps echoed as they inched down the empty hallway, pausing every few steps so Jackie could take pictures. It got colder and colder the farther they went, the refrigeration unit quietly humming.

"I'll never get used to the fish hold smell." Jackie stepped around the bloody footprints, glass crunching beneath her shoes. "It'll be burned into my nose for the rest of the day. I don't know how you do it, Killian."

"It's better than the alternative. It's when you stop smelling it that there's a problem."

"Did a story on that some years back. A couple of greenhorn fishermen noticed a strange odor and went down into the hold. Lost consciousness. It was hydrogen sulfide buildup from all the dead fish."

"I remember that. The fire department had to go in and clear the space."

"Did they get the fishermen out?" Such cases weren't within the scope of his job, but Reid had heard about them.

"Had to be hospitalized, but yeah, they got lucky." Jackie stopped so abruptly, Reid almost bowled her over. "Damn. Would you look at that?" She pointed at the empty threshold before them.

Their motley trio hovered outside the fish processing hold, each staring at the thick metal door ripped clean off its hinges. The sheer strength that must've taken. Reid always knew Nireed was strong, but this was far greater than he ever could've imagined.

No one made a move to venture inside.

"Lorelei said it was safe to come down here." Killian's voice trailed, but even he sounded unsure.

"Says the woman with mermaid strength." Jackie huffed, snapping another round of photos.

So the reporter knew. And Killian didn't seem alarmed by it, so it must be all right.

"I'll go first." Reid was a rescue swimmer, not a boarding officer, so he didn't exactly know how to clear a room, but as the only service member present, he figured he ought to take on the most risk.

Neither of his companions protested, so he took the initiative and edged inside, mentally bracing himself for what he might see.

There was the missing crew.

Every single one of them hung from the ceiling in a net, staring down at him with pleading eyes, but apart from a few bumps and scrapes, they didn't appear to be hurt. Some looked more angry than fearful, many were crying, but none yelled or begged for help. They must've been compelled into complete and utter silence by either Nireed or his sister.

How in the hell had they gotten them up there? That was the first question.

How in the hell are we going to get them down? Was the second.

Jackie scooted past him to continue snapping photos farther in, but quickly turned away, a hand clasped over her mouth. She went very, very still and glassy-eyed.

Reid tore his attention from The Seriphus's crew.

On first look, the horror seemed to be the wreckage Nireed left behind, a classic tale of monster meets man, but there was a grislier truth beneath it all. The true horror wasn't Nireed, but what Nautic had done in greed.

For all the carnage Reid had seen onboard Gale's Promise , none of it could've prepared him for this. Beside him, Killian vomited.

Conveyor belts of packaged mermaid parts. Tails on meat hooks. Dissected, divvied up, and labeled. Lives reduced to corporate processing.

But worst of all was the humanoid torso laid out on a metal slab, bisected from the waist down. The siren's face was turned their way, her orbital sockets a black void where eyes should be.

How had Nireed seen this, and yet, spilled no blood in all her rage?

Reid climbed the stairs to the pilothouse, following a trail of bloody footprints, softly calling Nireed's name. The last thing he wanted to do was startle her.

When she didn't answer, he lightly rapped on the door, cracking it open just enough to peek in. The navigation console had been smashed; charts were strewn all over the floor as if a maelstrom had torn through. There wasn't anyone in his direct line of sight, but he did hear sobbing.

Reid crept in, quietly closing the door behind him.

His Starfish was sitting on the floor in a sad, rageful puddle, knees hugged to her chest, a noise cancellation headset crushed in her hand. There was a small, bloody pile of glass fragments beside her, the cuts on her feet already closing. While he was grateful for her speedy, siren healing, it made Reid's stomach clench to see that she had to dig out every shard herself.

Across from her, The Seriphus's captain was bleeding from shallow cut on his forehead but sitting docilely with a logbook, stack of folders, and satellite phone resting on his lap. He'd have to treat that, but for the moment, taking care of Nireed was his top priority.

He crouched down, lightly smoothing a hand across her shoulder. "Hey, Starfish."

She sniffed, but didn't look up, just held herself tighter, body quaking as she cried.

"Rough couple of hours, huh?"

Sniffling, she looked up, eyes dim at first, but as they focused on him a spark of light returned. "I had him gather evidence." She gestured weakly to the captain.

"That was…rather cooperative of him."

The crushed headset fell from her hands, hitting the floor with a clatter. "I can be rather persuasive."

Her siren song. Today, she'd wielded it as one might a weapon, but was it ever used for joy? He hoped that it was, and that one day, under far better circumstances, he might be lucky enough to hear it. "You did good."

Pain rolled over her features. "Did I? I'm not so sure."

Her throat worked, thick tears rolling down her cheeks. Touching her fingers to one, a flicker of surprise crossed her features as she pulled them away, finding them wet. Tears rarely felt. The surprise quickly passed, settling into something that looked a lot like regret.

"Do you regret sparing them?"

"It's not that. Killing the crew would just confirm everything the Surface Dwellers think they know about us." She picked shards of metal from beneath her claws. "I was in that tank for a year. I thought it was worth it because my people were cured, and our territory was going to be protected, declared a ‘marine sanctuary,' as Cure Creator calls it. But I read the words in that book. ‘Restock galley, clear out mermaids, deliver shipment at $10,000 per pound, fix the bilge pump.' While I've known all along why my people were being killed—so that these Surface Dwellers could keep fishing in our waters—seeing it written down like that…"

Like just another line item on a long to-do list.

Nireed looked lost, shattered. "All my suffering and sacrifice was meant to save my people. Not put targets on their backs."

Reid yanked her into a fierce hug. "No, don't you dare blame yourself for their greed." He buried his nose in her hair, inhaling its sea salt smell. "That's not on you."

"Then why does it feel like it?" Her voice wavered, the sound heavy and wet.

"Because you're trying to make sense of something senseless. You're used to seeing the world in terms of survival—kill or be killed. But this…" He gestured to the boat around them. "What they're doing here? Is just evil, and evil has a way of coming for us no matter what we do."

"You really think so?" She sniffled.

"I know so." He touched his forehead to hers. "They've stolen so much already, don't let them steal your peace. You're not to blame, and they don't get to make you think otherwise, you hear me?"

A small smile lifted the corners of her mouth. "I hear you."

"Good." He pressed a kiss to her forehead. "Now, as much as I'd love to keep you right here with me, more Surface Dwellers are coming, and while they're going to see to it that Nautic is punished, it's probably better that you're not here when they arrive."

Who knew how the FBI would react to her, or Nireed to them, and that was not a gamble he cared to take.

"Okay."

Cupping her ankle, Reid asked, "Is it all right if I take a look?"

She nodded.

Lifting one foot, then the other, he examined the undersides, each smeared with dirt and dried blood. There were no more open wounds. Some parts looked newly sealed and a little raw, but thankfully not inflamed. Sirens must've also had ironclad immune systems, killing common infections with a vengeance.

"Does it hurt?"

"Not really."

"Think you can stand?" Knowing Nireed, she'd probably grin and bear it, even if she shouldn't, so he added, "Or maybe you better not?"

"If I can't stand, then I shouldn't shift, but I can't stay here either." She lifted her chin, the set of her jaw brave and determined. "I should try."

Taking her hands, he gently helped her to her feet. He watched her face carefully for signs of discomfort. Now that the adrenaline had worn off, the distance she covered with open wounds might be unbearable.

"Sore," she admitted, wriggling her toes. "But manageable."

"Good. That's really good, Starfish."

But she didn't move toward the door. "I suppose we can't bring them home, the ones we lost."

He brushed back her hair and cupped her cheek. "I'm sorry, love. But the world needs to see what was done here so that Nautic never sails again. There can't be any doubt."

"I don't like it, but I understand." Nireed hugged herself. "A part of me is glad their deaths weren't completely wasted, but it's not the comfort I thought it would be."

There was distance and safety in imagining what might've happened. Room for denial, the blunting of reality's sharp edges, but seeing the truth in the flesh afforded no such luxuries.

She continued, "I wish we could lay them to rest in the deep where they belong."

Remains were routinely returned to their families after cases closed. Why not for the merfolk too? "Can't promise anything, but maybe when the investigation is over, we can make arrangements to have their bones returned."

A glimmer of hope sparked in her teary eyes. "That would be best."

It was only right the merfolk got to properly mourn and bury their dead. He'd raise hell if he had to. His fellow Surface Dwellers owed them that dignity and respect, at the very least.

After collecting the pile of evidence from The Seriphus's captain, and putting Killian in charge of safeguarding it, Reid coaxed Nireed out of the pilothouse. He hated feeling like he was shooing her off, but he didn't want her anywhere near this ship when the FBI arrived; and despite what The Seriphus crew had done, he did need to find a way to get the rest of them down and tend to their wounds. It was his job. He'd have to temper his rage and do it as clinically and indiscriminately as possible.

Navigating the stairs down to the main deck, Nireed's tight grip on the railing made the metal groan and creak with every gray-faced, reluctant step she took. He slowed to thread a stabilizing arm around her waist. "You afraid of heights, love?"

She nodded, clutching his shoulders like a scared cat, claws pricking skin.

Wincing, he tapped her waist. "Ease up."

She relaxed her hold, claws retracting. "Sorry."

"Why didn't you tell me before? On the hike?" He'd marched her straight up that mountain, sat them at the edge of an overlook, legs dangling over the side.

"That was different." She toed the open metal grating, shuddering. "That felt solid. This is…exposing. Barely anything to hang onto."

Open backed steps, a flimsy—by siren standards—railing, the stomach drop feeling of falling. He'd never considered how alarming that must feel to a creature used to living in suspension, and he could see why good, solid earth would feel safer by comparison. Boulders and trees made good handholds.

He paused, heart swelling with affection and awe, as he drank her in—tangled dark brown hair, wild amber eyes, the clench of her sharp teeth and steel of her resolve.

Another fear faced to protect the ones she loved and stop Nautic's reign once and for all.

God, he loved this woman.

"Want me to carry you down?"

"Yes." She nodded firmly, already climbing onto his back, and burying her face in his neck.

Threading his arms under her legs, and readjusting her weight, he couldn't help but chuckle a little to himself. Damn, she was adorable. He carried her down and over to the gunwale, slow and easy, and was grateful to see that Killian's fishermen had turned their backs to give them privacy.

"Nireed? Reid?" Someone was calling their names, but it wasn't coming from anywhere on deck.

Nireed eagerly patted his shoulder and pointed. He leaned over the side.

Four mermaids stared up at them from the water below.

"We're okay!" she shouted, sagging against him with relief. The other mermaids were too far down for him to make out their expressions, but if Nireed's response was anything to go by, he'd bet they felt the same.

One by one, Nireed named each of them: Melusina, Delphine, Aersila, and Undine. Friends. Family. Leader. The one who'd called out their names was Nireed's older sister. Not only did she know his name, she knew enough to recognize him. While Nireed said her sister knew about them, damn, that he'd been important enough to bare mentioning was only just now sinking in.

Nireed slid from his back.

Clambering onto the gunwale, she perched there, gazing down, no doubt preparing to dive. But she didn't go just yet, and instead, turned to look back at him, her eyes red-rimmed and swollen by grief. There was something warm there, too, something that made his chest tighten and his breath catch. Something he'd seen in himself—unspoken feelings reflected in the shimmering pools of her eyes. "Thank you for coming for me."

"I'll always come for you," he said, stepping in closer. I love you, Starfish. But he didn't say it out loud, not yet. Not on the heels of the horror she'd seen.

A smile overtook her face, coupled with a happy glow. Had she heard his unsaid words anyway? Threading her claws through his hair, she leaned in, kissing him soft and sweet.

"I'll see you soon." Those were her parting words before joining her merfolk kin.