Bastian watched Saina struggle, fascinated and heartbroken by the array of emotions that crossed her beautiful face: guilt, pain, resignation, frustration, fear. He wanted to close the distance between them and gather her into his arms, to assure her that whatever crisis she was facing, he was hers. But something told him that would only make things worse, so he waited, leashing his desire and protective instinct to the best of his ability.

“I’m sorry,” she said achingly. “I’m sorry you found me. I’m sorry I am who I am. I’m sorry I let you think this was something more than it was for so long. I’m just… so sorry.”

Bastian blinked. “I’m not sorry I found you,” he said at once.

“Don’t,” Saina breathed miserably. “Don’t be so perfect.”

Perfect? She thought he was perfect?

“Saina...” Something occurred to Bastian. “Have you ever been with… er, am I your first?”

Her face was a kaleidoscope of emotion.

It wasn’t an obvious guess. She was lushly curved and exuded sexuality like a cat in heat to Bastian’s senses. She had perfect flirtations that she could turn on in an instant, and she clearly knew exactly how to walk and smile for just the attention that she didn’t seem to want. The clothing she had arrived in suggested the exact opposite.

But Bastian believed her when she sighed and admitted, “Yes. You would be.”

She dropped into the chair and Bastian settled on the bed opposite from her.

“This would be much easier if I were like other sirens,” she said in frustration.

“What are other sirens like?” Bastian asked, already disliking them for not being like her.

“Oh, you know,” she said mockingly. “Seducing sailors, drowning people.”

Bastian was fairly sure she wasn’t really joking; there was too much bitterness in her voice.

“Tell me,” he told her without judgment, wishing he could touch her.

She looked back at him unflinchingly, then lowered dark lashes over her sea green eyes. “I wish I were kidding,” she said in a flat voice. “But every mermaid I’ve ever known but one was out only for themselves. We… don’t have families like you do. Siren women form a loose pod, but our loyalty to each other is usually not strong.”

“And the men?” Bastian had to ask.

“There are no male sirens,” Saina said stiffly. She swiftly added, “Children of trysts are raised in the pod if they are girls, and abandoned on land if they are boys.”

“Can all sirens sing like you?” Bastian asked, putting an unconscious hand to his throat as he remembered the compulsion of her song on the beach and the way she had defused the unexpected tension in the restaurant the night before.

She stiffened. “No, not all of us,” she said, and her voice was full of grief and regret. “Most of us can sing a simple seduction, but not all of us have more complicated talents.”

Bastian didn’t press her and Saina gathered herself and went on.

“My grandmother was a singer like me. She used to tell me that the magic we could do came from our hearts, that sirens were meant for greater things. And when she was lost… I realized that she was the only reason our pod had stayed together as long as it had. Without Our Voice, we were lost. My sisters all left, free to pursue their own baser desires.”

“Your Voice?” There was a significance to the title that Bastian couldn’t define.

“It is the title for our matron, our leader if you like. I went after her, made a deal for her freedom, but it went badly.”

Bastian had wondered how she ended up with a bullet hole, adrift in the middle of the ocean, and this started to explain it. He made a sudden connection. “Keylor. That’s how you know Keylor.”

“He swore he would free Our Voice if I did a job for him. A simple job, for someone with my gifts. And I got what he was after, too. But it sank with the dinghy. I’ll never get it now, and I don’t know another way to satisfy his demands.”

Bastian could feel the fire of rage rising inside his chest. “He blackmailed you. He kidnapped your grandmother and blackmailed you for her release.”

“He took her as a matter of debt,” Saina elucidated. “I don’t know the details, but he considered himself wronged and took her to satisfy his honor.”

“He wouldn’t harm her,” Bastian assured her, knowing it was a pitiful assurance.

“Of course not,” Saina agreed. “I know a little about dragon honor.” She said it with disgust. “It’s no wonder you all make such amazing lawyers.”

“I would make a terrible lawyer,” Bastian confessed.

Saina smiled at him, a crooked, genuine smile. “That’s why I like you so much.”

Bastian felt like his chest expanded seven times when she said it. “I want to show you something,” he said impulsively, standing up.