Chapter 4

FOUR

MONROE

No one got under my skin the way that siren did. She was so damn stubborn and sassy and just plain annoying. I trudged from the shoreline down Main Street and toward my shop where Dawson and I grew our travel agency for all the supernaturals of Megelle Island. It was a perfectly beautiful fall day with clear blue skies and a crisp breeze blowing across the Island. The sound of leaves crinkling under my feet filled the air. The colors on the Island were a breathtaking array of oranges, reds, browns, and yellows. Yet I couldn't find enjoyment in the small shops decorated with their fall decor and carved pumpkins. Fake spiderwebs covered the corners of doorways. Orange lights were strung from one side of the street to the other. They would be all aglow once the sun went down.

The mages of the Island found it entertaining to enchant witch hats and let them float above our streets with lit candles. Brooms moved of their own accord up and down the streets as though sweeping up a nonexistent mess. Little ghostly sheets soared all over the Island and fake fog rolled over the streets each night. It was the best kind of spooky season, yet that siren had taken all enjoyment of the season from me.

"That greasy little fish." I pulled my Prescott phone from my pocket and dialed Dawson's number. He answered after only two rings, but it was two rings too many for how impatient I felt. "Do you have any idea how much that little siren gets on my nerves?"

"Judging by how many times you've brought her up in twenty-four hours, I'd say a lot."

I could hear people moving in the shop in the background of Dawson's phone, but I couldn't stop myself from just needing to get this anger out.

"Well, how would you feel if you had a family heirloom stolen from you?" I wound my way down Main Street, dodging children as they ran and played while trying not to step on any of the jack-o'-lanterns the shop owners used as decoration.

Dawson sighed. "Family heirloom? It doesn't even work."

"That is not the point." I glanced up at the balconies of the homes just above the shops and noticed how they too had strung fake spiderwebs over their railings and put little ghosts and zombies on display.

"And the point is?" I heard him typing in the background.

"The point is that it's mine, and if I don't get it back, I'm going to take this problem to the King and Queen."

He murmured thank you to someone, then turned back to the phone. "They have a whole island to run. That feels a bit extreme. You've got to let it go. We will get it back. Did you talk to Reese?"

I scoffed as I turned the corner and closed in on our shop. "Yeah, much good that did me. She barely even gained an inch with that sister of hers. Chip, slimy little thief."

Dawson didn't seem to be paying attention to me. "Can you just get here? We have a line of wolves around the corner."

"I'm right here." I hung up the phone and shoved it back into my pocket. There was indeed a line of wolves coming from our shop that was beginning to wind down the street. I tried to smile as I passed them, but I think all that did was make them more wary of coming in. I quickly pulled the door open and walked inside.

Our shop was small with only two desks. Each desk had a single computer on it. The door on the back wall stood open, showing our little workshop for all the trinkets we made for our customers. I marched to my desk and yanked my blazer off and threw it in the chair. Dawson peeked up at me from his computer but didn't say anything. Holden and a younger pack member sat across from him.

Holden's brow furrowed as he looked me up and down. "You all right, Monroe?"

"No." I tugged at the strands of my hair. "How do you deal with it?"

"With what?" He glanced from me toward Dawson.

Dawson gave a heavy sigh and hung his head. "I think he means sirens."

Holden chuckled. "Oh, have you had a run-in with one?"

"Not just one! The most stubborn and annoying one!" Visions of that dark-haired siren filled my mind. So beautiful yet so infuriating.

The young wolf next to Holden chuckled and Holden smacked his arm. "You're gonna have to narrow it down. There are a lot of them."

"Are they all likethat?" I swung my arm toward the door, motioning toward the general direction of the sea. "Or do we have to be lumberjacks to maintain control?"

Holden ran his hand through his messy, dark-blond hair and down over his scruffy face. "I have no idea what it takes. But I do know that trying to control a siren is like trying to control the sea itself: you just can't."

"Oh, spare me your poetry. She's half-fish. That's it." Frustration ate at every ounce of me. "This is all her fault. I mean, really, who in their right mind just takes something and claims it for their own? Just like that. And she's all, prove it . What is she? The human police? Just bossing people around, being all stubborn, and unmovable. This is because she's a princess fish. That's why!"

Dawson glanced up at me. "Did you just call her a princess fish?"

"Yes, I did." I marched into the workshop and kept the door open. I grabbed a bag of trinkets for our shifters and began sorting them into welcome packages. I spread the boxes out and began dropping them in one by one. "Slimy swimming thief. She's not a fish, she's an eel. They're all slippery and gross. That's what she is! Slimy and gross."

Holden chuckled. "I take it he means, Chip?"

I threw a necklace into a box and it landed with a clatter. "Yes, that ridiculous snack."

"Did he say she was a snack?" The young wolf chuckled. "Tell me how you really feel?"

Holden nudged the back of his head. "Knock it off, Travis. He's distressed enough."

"Yeah, with his snack, Chip." The guy pressed the back of his hand over his mouth, stifling his laughter.

"Keep laughing and there'll be no trip to Scotland for you!" I snapped a bit too loud and threw another necklace into a box.

"Do you mind easing up on those?" Dawson narrows his eyes at me. "That took a lot of planning to get those from Peggy."

I slammed the bag down on the bench and walked back out to the main room and started pacing.

Dawson raised his eyebrows at me. "Well, did you get the proof that it's yours?"

I froze mid-step and turned to face him. "No, I shouldn't have to."

Dawson shrugged. "It's actually quite reasonable, Monroe."

"It's a broken pocket watch. Why does she even want it? It's broken." I threw my arms up.

Holden leaned back in his chair. "I suspect your attitude makes her want to keep it."

" My attitude?" I placed my hands on my chest. "What about her attitude?"

"Monroe, she made a reasonable request. Focus on that?—"

"I'm focused! Focused on a stupid princess siren who makes accidentally dropping something a mountain out of a molehill."

Dawson groaned. "Monroe."

I groaned. "I'm focused."

"Get the proof?—"

" Get the proof. Get the proof. What's with you and this broken record about the proof?"

"What else do you want me to say?"

"This is partially your fault, Dawson! I tried to swim over there yesterday and get it back myself. She's tiny. I could've easily snatched it back. But no, you held me in place, remember?" I gestured wildly as I paced our office, fully aware I was putting on quite a show for the wolves. "Then you were all, just talk to Reese. Reese will help you. Reese will talk sense into her ? — "

"Oh no." Holden snickered. "You sent my wife to order Chip around?"

"What's so wrong with that?"

He shook his head. "Reese is the baby of ten sisters, boys. She may be the alpha's wife on land, but under the sea, she's the bottom of the food chain. You probably just pissed Chip off even more by sending Reese in to talk to her."

I glared at Dawson. "You see what you did? That's on you."

He threw his hands up. "Then why did you listen to me at all? I wasn't overpowering you. Why didn't you just swim over like you wanted?"

"Because she told us to leave—" I gasped as realization rocked through me. "That slimy little fish."

"I am afraid to ask where this is going," Holden said with a chuckle under his breath. "I feel guilty by marriage here."

"She sang to us." I slammed my fists on my desk and groaned. "She used her siren song magic and forced us to leave. That slimy, greasy, oily little thief!"

Dawson's eyes widened. "Well . . . shit. She did, didn't she?"

Holden was full on belly-laughing now. "Oh no, you've really gotten on her bad side. The sirens loathe using that magic."

Dawson scrubbed his face with his hands. "I am concerned now."

The front door dinged and Kristie sauntered into the room.

We all fell silent, and she glanced around at all of us. "What?"She shifted from one foot to the other and flipped her long blonde hair over her shoulder.

I glanced at the ceiling, silently praying for patience. "Nothing, Kristie. What are you doing here?"

Kristie smiled up at me and placed her hand on my forearm, giving it a little squeeze. "We need to plan our honeymoon."

Dawson stifled his laugh with a cough, and I narrowed my eyes at him. Holden and Travis glanced at each other, then back at me.

My mouth dropped open, and I fought to close it. "We didn't plan a wedding or even set a date."

Kristie nodded. "Yeah, because of you, silly. That's why I'm here."

I shook my head. "I can't do this right now, Kristie. Can't you see the line around the corner? We just got home this morning. And that stupid siren still has my watch. Can we talk about it later?"

She took a step back as if she'd been slapped. "It's always about that stupid watch. We have things to do and plan and you keep putting me off."

Her voice rose with every word she spoke, and I felt myself stepping closer and closer to madness with all this. "Please, can we just talk about this later . . . alone."

She groaned. "Fine!" She pulled her bag higher up on her shoulder and slammed it against her side, then snarled and stormed out of the shop.

Holden's eyes followed her as the shop door slammed shut behind her. Once she was out of sight, he turned back to me. "I still can't believe you proposed to her."

Fits of laughter racked Dawson's body.

I scowled. "It's really not that funny, Cousin."

"Oh, it really is." He pressed his hand to his mouth, but tears of laughter streamed down his face.

"What? What's the joke?" Holden looked from me to Dawson. "I wanna know."

"I didn't actually propose. I was going through storage and found a family heirloom ring and set it on the bed to show Dawson—ya know, since we're related and it's a keepsake from our family. She came in, saw it, and thought I was proposing."

Holden cackled.

I gave him the same sour look. I shrugged. "I figured it was fate intervening and was gonna see how it played out."

Holden rolled his eyes and sighed. "See how it plays out? Man, what you don't know about women is a lot."

"It was logical at the time? It's gonna hurt her either way if I break it off, so I figure I ought to wait and make sure I'm one-hundred-percent sure." When I said it out loud like that, it sounded ridiculous.

Holden looked to the door, then back at me. "And what percentage sure are you now?"