Blood Song

Now the eyes grew stormy. They looked a little like mine, gray with swirls of blue and green. I felt pressure against my head, as if someone were squeezing it with both hands. She glared harder and the pressure grew. Bruno realized what was happening but wasn’t sure what to do about it. It didn’t seem to be any sort of spell, although she did have that evil witch look about her. Sort of Jessica Rabbit meets Snow White’s stepmother.



“I think I am Princess Adriana Kalino, heir apparent of the Pacific sirens. And I think you have just insulted me, abomination. What body part do you wish to lose to make reparations?”



Oh, fuck a duck. This was not how I imagined I was going to meet Granddad’s side of the family. Most of the crowd started to move backward to get out of fallout range. Bruno stepped forward, being the nice guy he is, but I reached an arm back to stop him. Interestingly, John Creede also stepped forward, as did Emma and Alex. But I shook my head.



Two could play this game. “No … I didn’t insult you. You stormed into a solemn occasion and decided to show off your body and voice for no good reason. I think that’s rude in pretty much any culture. How do you plan to make reparations to me?”



She seemed taken aback at that, as though nobody had ever really stood up to her before. I was willing to be the first. “We have an impasse. Very well. Then we agree to battle to satisfy our grievances. At the stroke of ten, after you have appeared at your hearing before the Pacific lords on the Isle of Serenity to defend your right to exist, and if you survive, then we will fight to settle this.”



Whoa, whoa! “Back up, Your Royal Siren-ness. What the hell are you talking about? What hearing, and who are the ‘Pacific lords’? And where is the Isle of Serenity?”



She smiled, and while it was beautiful, it was also mocking. “Had you greeted me as a siren princess is entitled, I would feel inclined to answer your questions. As it is—” She shrugged. “I can be every bit as stubborn as you appear to be. When you complete your court-ordered stay in the treatment facility, you will be collected to appear for the hearing.”



She turned on her heel and started to walk back through the crowd, slinking and twitching those perfectly formed hips. As hard as I tried to follow so I could kick that perfect ass into next Tuesday, I couldn’t. My feet flat wouldn’t move. Bruno either couldn’t move, either, or chose not to, since he was squeezing my arm in a signal not to follow her. Maybe he was stopping me.



Or maybe she was.



Not good.



Just before she walked out the double doors, which two officers in tan were holding for her with the rapt expression of starving puppies, she turned and raised one brow. “If I were you, I’d use my time in the treatment facility to study siren culture and heritage. Perhaps once you understand why you have to die, you’ll do the honorable thing and commit suicide. Otherwise, we’ll simply kill you.” She smiled pleasantly to the rest of the crowd—most of whom smiled back. “Please, the rest of you enjoy the remainder of the party. You might include the hostess in your remembrances. This may be the last time you’ll see her alive.”



Another smile that was a chilly baring of teeth was directed to me. “The next time we meet, dear cousin, will be the last.”



Dear cousin?



Well … shit. Didn’t my life just suck moss-covered swamp rocks?