CHAPTER FIVE

Annika didn’t like the new training. It held a meanness, like the guns. Striking each other, throwing each other to the ground. How to slash or stab someone with a knife.

She wanted to say no, as she had with the gun, no, she would not. But she knew she must. Bran couldn’t make her a magick weapon for this.

She didn’t like seeing Doyle sweep Sasha’s legs out from under her so she fell, or Riley kicking so hard toward Bran’s belly. Her friends slashed at each other with knives, and though Bran had charmed them so they couldn’t harm flesh, it made her hurt inside.

To avoid most of it, she danced, tumbled, flipped out of the way rather than on the attack. When she couldn’t avoid, she held back, afraid to hurt those she loved.

“Come on, Annika. You’re faster than that.” Feet planted, Doyle tapped a fist on his hard chest. “Come at me, come hard.”

Hoping to satisfy him, she started forward, did a handspring, started a flip, but he caught her foot, used momentum to push her up and back. She barely had time to adjust and land on her feet.

“Hey, take it easy.” Sawyer broke off sparring with Riley, took a punch in the belly for his trouble. “Hey, you, too.”

“Love tap,” she claimed.

“Good thing we’re not in love.” He started toward Doyle. “Ease up a little.”

“Easing up gets you hurt. She’s easing up, and that’s the problem. You’re holding back, Gorgeous. Truth.”

On a pleading look, she lifted her hands. “I don’t want to hurt my friends.”

“Holding back’s what’s going to hurt your friends. Go with me,” he murmured to Sawyer. Fast, smooth, he had Sawyer in a grip, and a knife to his throat. “How do you keep me from cutting his throat?”

“The knife can’t hurt him.” Though she didn’t like it there. “Bran fixed it.”

“Got you there, friend.”

Unamused, Doyle grunted, flipped the knife point-first into the grass. In an instant he had Sawyer in a choke hold.

“Hey!”

“Play along.”

“Play my— Fuck,” he managed as his windpipe seemed to narrow.

“What if I just snap his neck?” The muscles in Doyle’s arms rippled as he applied pressure. “The right grip, the right pressure, it’s done. Quick and quiet. What do you do?”

“You won’t hurt him.”

“Just a little more pressure.”

When Sawyer began to wheeze and struggle, Annika’s eyes widened. “Stop.”

“Make me. Stop me. He could be dead any second.”

“I said stop!” Lifting a fist, Annika shot out light, struck Doyle’s choking arm, his throat. She sprang forward an instant before Doyle released Sawyer.

Sawyer coughed out a couple breaths, bent over to rest his hands on his thighs.

“It didn’t hurt you because you’re not evil.”

“Gave me a buzz,” Doyle told her. “And if I’d have been a bad guy, I’d be down for the count. That’s how it’s done. You okay, kid?”

Sawyer gulped in another breath, nodded. Then straightening, came back hard with an elbow into Doyle’s gut.

Now Doyle coughed out a breath. “Good one.”

“You earned it, old man.”

“We’re hurting each other.” When tears trembled in Annika’s eyes, Doyle stepped back.

“All yours.”

“Okay, listen.” Sawyer swung an arm around Annika’s shoulders, turned her around. “Let’s walk a little.”

“Doyle hurt you. You hurt Doyle. Sasha said Riley broke her butt.”

Not the time to laugh, Sawyer warned himself. “It’s an expression. But yeah, we’re going to hurt each other a little. Some bumps and bruises, and some bruises on the pride, too. But, Anni, what comes at us won’t have knives that won’t cut, won’t pull punches. They could be worse than what she sent before because they’re human. They can think and plan instead of just act. They’ll kill me—I’m expendable. I don’t have value.”

“No, no, you—”

“To them, I am. Probably Sasha, too. Bran if they can manage it. And they’ll take you and Doyle and Riley. That’s worse, what they’ll do to you is worse.”

She stopped, turned to face him, to read his eyes. “They’ll kill you?”

“They’ll try.”

“And Sasha?”

“Odds are—kill or capture. And for us, one’s the same as the other. We have to survive.”

“It’s our duty.”

“That’s right, and we have to protect each other. That’s more than duty. I’ll take the bumps and bruises now. Doyle’s tough, but he’s right.”

“Do you want to kill people? To take their lives?”

“Absolutely not. But to save you, us, myself, the stars? I won’t hesitate.”

“Then I’ll hurt you.”

On a laugh, he cupped her face in his hands, pressed his lips to her forehead.

She simply flowed toward him, all but melted against him, surrounding him with her scent—both sweet and mysterious at once. He had only to shift, only to change the angle of his head for his mouth to meet hers.

And that shift, that change of angle would change everything else.

“Okay. Well.” He gave her a quick rub on the arms, stepped back. Tried not to look too long into those dreamy sea-green eyes. “Let’s see if you can hurt me before Doyle calls it for breakfast.”

They spent another day on and in the water, found nothing that pointed them toward the star. But there was gelato on the way home, and Annika considered that the happiest part of the day.

When they reached the house, the men wandered off into the grove. Annika thought nothing of it as she set out another jug of sun tea, but Riley, apparently, thought plenty.

Wearing her orange Chucks, a Grateful Dead T-shirt over baggy cargoes—and a suspicious expression—she stood, hands on hips. “Man talk.”

“I think they went to shoot the targets.”

“I don’t think so.” Riley turned as Sasha stepped out with her sketchbook and a large pitcher of sparkling pink.

“I tried my hand at this juice drink—raspberry and lemon with sparkling water. I think it’s pretty good.”

“We’ll be the judge.”

“Where’s everyone else?” Sasha asked as Riley poured the juice over a tall glass of ice.

“Exactly. The everybody else with a penis went off into the grove. I smell man meeting.”

“They can have it. I’m hot, tired, and parched.” But as she sat under the pergola, Sasha frowned toward the grove. “What could they be meeting about?”

“Strategy. Protecting the womenfolk from the Nerezza-Malmon duo.”

“That’s insulting.”

“You bet. This is pretty good.”

“I like it very much,” Annika added as she sampled her own glass. “We can have a woman meeting. We protect, too.”

“Damn skippy.”

“Who is Skippy? Why are you mad at him?”

“It’s an expression. Like bet your ass.”

“People are always betting their asses. Language is fun.” Because of the shade, Annika took off the glasses that dimmed the glare of the sun. “But I think the men worry because I won’t use the gun, and Sasha has to practice fighting.”

“I call bullshit.” Scowling now, Riley aimed her displeasure toward the grove. “You’ve both proven yourselves, and more than once.”

“I agree with that,” Sasha said, “but Annika’s right, too. I’m not as quick or as strong as the rest of you. I’m better, and I’ll get better yet. And, Annika, you’re plenty quick and strong. The bracelets more than make up for a gun.”

“Damn skippy.” Annika grinned as she tried out the expression. “In the water, I’m the best, and we can use that. Riley shoots the gun very, very well, and she’s fast in a fight. Sasha is better with the crossbow than even Doyle, and she sees so much of what we need to know. We’ve been chosen because of what we are, what we can do. What we will do.”

“We’re not a team if we’re in two camps,” Sasha pointed out. “The men, the women.”

“It’s natural for men to worry about the women in their family. We’re family.”

Riley drummed her fingers on the table. “Go ahead, Anni, be logical.”

“We worry, too,” Annika added. “I would do all I could to protect them, and you, and so I have to hurt you when we practice. When we were attacked in the water in Corfu, the first time, I wasn’t ready. I was too happy to be in the sea. But since I listen, I watch. I protect.”

Sasha reached out, laid a hand on Annika’s. “You saved me.”

“In the last battle, you went to the high cliff with Bran, because you knew he would need you. We all needed you. And in the full moon, when Riley changed, she came to fight with us as the wolf. With no weapons but fang and claw. They know this, all this. But men will worry about their women.”

“You’re more tolerant than me.” But Riley shrugged. “I’ll give them space until they take too much of it.”

“We have more. You’re the smartest.”

“You’re starting to improve my mood, Anni.”

“Sawyer is so clever, and Doyle has lived so long, has much experience. Bran is smart, and he has magick. But your brain is the biggest. You find things out. Dig them out.”

“I haven’t dug up anything on the sighs and songs yet, but I’m working on it.”

“You will find it, or Sasha will dream it. And we’ll know.” It wasn’t simplicity or innocence in Annika’s words, her tone. It was faith.

“Knowledge is a power and a weapon, and you give us knowledge. The men understand all of this. Still . . . Sawyer protected me when I wouldn’t learn how to shoot the gun. Doyle didn’t try to force me, and Bran made me these.”

She lifted her hands so the copper gleamed in the dappled sunlight. “He knew I would fight better, be stronger with these. When you were the wolf, Sawyer made you a fire on a rainy night. This is kindness and care. Doyle knocks Sasha down so she’ll get up again, but he doesn’t knock her down as hard as he knocks Riley. Because Riley’s stronger.”

“And meaner.”

“In a fight?”

Again Riley shrugged, but she grinned with it. “I can be all-around mean when I need to.” Then sat back with her sparkling juice. “I never thought to have a mermaid explain men to me.”

“Is it wrong?”

“No. You hit all the right spots. Like I said, you’re more tolerant, but I can’t argue any of your points. Especially since I have the biggest brain.”

“And maybe I was wrong,” Sasha considered. “Maybe it’s good to separate now and then. We get the female perspective, they get the male. Then we bring both to the team.”

“Can I ask a question about men, but not about battle?”

“Of course.”

“How did you get Bran to kiss you, the first time?”

“Unintentionally, I guess. We were both a little angry.”

“So to get Sawyer to kiss me, we should be angry.”

Out of the corner of her eye, Sasha saw Riley’s eyebrows lift into her long fringe of bangs. “Not necessarily. Everyone’s different. You have feelings for Sawyer.”

“He fills me with feelings.”

“So make your move,” Riley said. “Can’t the female make the first move in your world? Kiss first?” she added for clarity.

“Oh, yes. It would be silly not to be able to kiss the male you want, if he’s willing.”

“If I’m any judge, Sawyer would be willing.”

“But I can’t. I’m not permitted to kiss a land person the first time. He must want me, show me. He must choose.”

“Why is that?”

“Our females have the power to lure men—humans. To seduce so the choice isn’t a choice for them. Long ago, and not so long ago, some of my kind lured men, sailors and explorers.”

“Sirens.”

“Yes. The song of the siren is beautiful and powerful, but it can be dangerous to the human she calls. We take an oath not to use the song, and never to first kiss a man if we’re granted legs. An oath is sacred. I wouldn’t be worthy of this quest if I broke the quest because I want to kiss Sawyer.”

With her heart in her eyes, she looked toward the lemon grove. “But I do, very much.”

“Hamstrung.” Riley looked at Sasha. “Personally I don’t think he’s going to be able to hold out for much longer.”

“I think it’s honor holding him back. He doesn’t want to take advantage of you, Annika.”

“How could he take advantage? If I didn’t want him to kiss me, I would say no.”

“It’s not always that black-and-white for . . . land people,” Sasha told her. “It doesn’t take a seer to know he’d very much like to kiss you.”

“You believe that?” Annika’s eyes sparkled like the drink as she looked at Riley. “Do you?”

“Damn skippy.”

On a laugh, Annika pressed her hands together. “I’m so happy I talked to you. This is hopeful.”

“You can’t ask him to kiss you?” Riley said.

“No. It’s forbidden until after the first time. After the choice.”

“Can you ask why he doesn’t kiss you?”

Annika started to speak, then frowned. “It’s different to ask why not. It’s . . . conversation, and seeking answers. Not asking for an act. No one told me it’s not permitted to ask a human why not. Only not to ask them to.”

Laughing again, she grabbed Riley’s hands. “This is so smart!”

“Big brain, and some experience with human males.”

“I should go ask right now.”

“I wouldn’t.” Quickly Sasha reached over, joined her hands with Annika’s and Riley’s. “I think it’s best to wait until it’s just the two of you. Until you’re alone. Asking him in front of the men? He’d feel awkward.”

“Oh. I’ll do as you say. You’ve helped so much.”

“Girl power. The other part of that,” Riley continued, “is you tell us what happens after you ask why not.”

“It’s good to talk to females. Males must feel it’s good to talk to males.”

“You won that argument. And here they come now.”

Riley thought Sasha had been right. You didn’t need the sight to know Sawyer had a case for their mermaid. Sunglasses didn’t disguise the fact that his gaze went straight to Annika, lingered there before he put on his affable smile, sauntered across the lawn to the table.

“That looks good.”

“Then it’s lucky I made a large pitcher—and brought enough glasses out for everyone. Before I knew you three were having a summit in the grove.”

Bran walked behind Sasha’s chair, ran a hand down her hair. “We did some calculations on the best positions for the light potion when it’s fully cured. The first of it should be ready after sundown.”

He sat beside her, lifted the pitcher. “What have we here?”

“A kind of raspberry lemonade.”

“I’ll get a beer.” Noting the glint in Sasha’s eyes, Doyle hesitated. “Or not. You pissed, Blondie?”

“I might have been. Riley would have been. But fortunately all around Annika made some salient points about the male of this species and many others—and their instincts to protect their women. Even when the women are capable. And that men sometimes require or desire the company of men. Otherwise, we wouldn’t be in such amiable moods.”

“Appreciate it, Gorgeous.” Doyle dumped some of the sparkling juice into a glass.

“I said what I did because I believe you respect us. If I believed you didn’t respect us, I would be angry.”

“Not only respect. Depend on. And love.” Bran took Sasha’s hand, brought it to his lips. When he lowered it, Sasha held a rose, yellow as sunlight. Bran smiled at Annika’s audible sigh. “With love comes concern.”

“I don’t see you kissing our hands, Irish.”

Now Bran laughed, gestured to Riley. “Give it over.”

“Maybe later.”

“Meanwhile, I think I’ve worked out how to fulfill Doyle’s suggestion for the weapons. For that, I could use your help, fáidh.”

“Then you’ll have it.”

“Once it’s ready to test, I’ll need everyone.”

“For magicks?” Annika asked.

“For magicks.”

With a flick of his fingers, Bran produced a rose as pink as candy, another as white as ice. Offered the pink to Annika, who beamed over it. The white to Riley.

“And while we scouted out the grove, and the areas beyond for placing the light bombs, Sawyer had a thought.”

“You had a thought?” Riley smirked at him.

“It happens once or twice a year. We’re talking defense, offense, strategy, holding our ground against attacks. And I figure we’re going to be dealing with Malmon now, too, and his mercs. The human element. As a fellow human, if I wanted to storm the castle, I wouldn’t come at it from below. I’d . . . Can I?”

When he reached for the sketch pad, Sasha nudged it toward him.

“So we’re here. Grove here, road there,” he said as he drew a rough map. “Closest neighbors here, here. Bad strategy to send troops up from the road. Maybe a few as a distraction, but it’s wasting men and effort. You come from the flanks, but the real vulnerability is west and above. The ground keeps rising. Rough terrain, mountainous. They couldn’t come fast, but—”

“Long-range weaponry,” Riley put in, got a nod. She rose, walked back from the pergola, looked up. “Some pretty decent cover. We’d have our own cover in the grove, and with the house itself to some extent, but a good sniper—and he only uses good—could pick us off.”

“He doesn’t want us dead,” Sasha began. “Or not all of us.”

“Tranquilizers.” With her hands in her pockets, Riley continued to scan. “He knows what we are, knows he can’t kill Doyle anyway. And he’d want me and Annika alive. We’re worth a lot more to him alive and captured. Bran, Sasha, maybe he’d be curious enough to want them alive and incapacitated, but Sawyer? All he wants is the compass. Shooting you in the head’s the easy path there.”

“Don’t say it,” Annika murmured.

“Sorry, but he’s already tried to kill Sawyer once. He’ll try again.”

“For all the good it’d do him. He kills me, he still won’t have the compass. You can’t just take it,” Sawyer explained. “It has to be given. You know, presented. Otherwise, it’ll just go back to my grandfather.”

“Hmm.” Riley walked back to the table. “Does he know that?”

“He should, but he was pissed off enough in Morocco to send an assassin. Could be he hasn’t dug deep enough to know how it all works.”

“Yeah, Malmon and his anger issues. What’s the plan?”

“We’ll need to scout out the area before Malmon gets here. I don’t guess your contact’s gotten back to you on that.”

“Not yet, but she will,” Riley assured Sawyer.

“Doyle knows the terrain.”

Riley raised her brows at Doyle. “It’s been a couple hundred years. Is your memory that good?”

“It’s good enough. Since it is, we’ll be heading up tomorrow instead of out to sea. We can’t find the star if we’re dead or in a cage.”

“Can’t argue. And once we’re up there—more climbing than hiking—and figure out what would be their best vantage points?”

“We set traps.”

Riley shot a finger at Sawyer. “Now you’re talking.”

“We can’t use the light bombs,” Bran pointed out. “We can’t risk an adventurous tourist or a local setting one off, being burned.”

“My bracelets wouldn’t hurt them.”

Bran nodded at Annika. “Exactly so. So I have to conjure something similar, something that will harm only evil or one with evil intent. I’ve some ideas on it.”

“Then you should be relieved of household chores this evening.”

“I’ll do Bran’s tasks,” Annika said.

“Thanks for that. I’ll need Sasha’s help, and I believe she’s down for head chef tonight.”

“I’ll cover it.” Sawyer shrugged. “No big.”

“Then we’ll get started.”

“The rest of us will get in some training in the grove,” Doyle said as Bran and Sasha rose.

“I was afraid you’d say that.”

Doyle glanced at Sawyer. “An hour, then there’ll be beer.”

Though Annika didn’t like beer, she trained for the hour. She didn’t like the bruises Doyle gave her when he showed her how to defend against what he called holds and grips.

But he reminded her she’d like a cage much less.

She liked wine and helping Sawyer make dinner, so enjoyed both. She got to make something he called bruschetta—cutting the long bread in half, toasting it—while he cooked chicken for the dish he called alfredo.

“Remember how to mince?”

“Cut up, very, very small.”

“Very small, those Roma tomatoes and that garlic.”

She applied herself to it, imagining how nice it would be to cook with him like this without the bruises from training or the thoughts of fighting ahead.

“The chicken smells so good.”

“It’ll taste even better with the fettuccini alfredo. Good job. Now the basil I cut from the herb garden? You need to slice that, really thin, but slice, not chop. Right?”

“I know what’s slice, what’s chop. If I lived on the land, I’d have a garden of flowers and herbs and the vegetables, too. I’d sit in it every day and drink wine.”

“Sweet deal.”

He showed her what else to do, with a little wine, the oil, the vinegar, with cheese and with pepper and salt.

“That’s just going to sit awhile,” he told her while he made a sauce in a pan. “So the flavors mix together.”

She liked the way he looked as he stirred things—his body relaxed, his hair catching light from the sun as it came through the windows.

“In the house on land, I’d have a big kitchen like this, with the windows for sun, the big, shiny box for cold things, and all the pretty dishes.”

“A big-ass pantry.”

“Big-ass pantry,” she repeated.

“A long, wide peninsula, doubles as a breakfast counter.”

“A peninsula is a land mass with three sides in the water.”

“Points for you.” Playfully, he shot a finger at her. “In the kitchen it’s a kind of counter. For food prep, and for people to sit, eat casual, or keep you company while you cook.”

“So you’re not lonely. Do you have this kitchen?”

“Me? No. My folks have a nice kitchen, and my grandparents? It’s a mix of old-fashioned and practical updates. But we’re building a dream kitchen here, from scratch.”

The idea of dreaming with him sang in her heart. “What color is it?”

“What’s your favorite?”

“Oh, there are too many for one to be the best.”

“Then we’ll go with green, like your eyes. Stainless steel appliances, commercial-grade six-burner gas range. Maybe dark gray for the cabinets.”

“Your eyes are gray. I like gray.”

“A lot of open or glass fronts on them—for those pretty dishes of yours. Walk-in pantry, farm sink, big windows. South facing so you can have your herbs in pots through the winter. Good start,” he said as he filled a pot with water.

“Can it be near the sea?”

“Hey, dream kitchen, remember? The world’s your oyster.”

“Oysters are very small,” she began, then understood. “An expression.”

“You got it. It means you can have anything you want.”

“I’d want the dream kitchen in a house near the sea. And we would cook in it together every night.”

He looked over then, and she felt him start to speak. But Riley came rushing in.

“Malmon’s in London.” She grabbed a glass, poured wine. “My contact says he’s been seen going and coming from this house in Hyde Park, one that belongs to this rich dude and his third wife. And they haven’t been seen for a couple days. More? Malmon’s butler hanged himself. Police investigated—no foul play, straight suicide.”

“Why the butler?” Sawyer wondered.

“Can’t say, but no signs of drugs, struggle, force. Word is, Malmon’s making arrangements to rent a villa in Capri, and tapping some of his mercs for the trip.”

“They know where we are, but with him still in London, putting it together, we’ve got some time yet.”

“Nerezza knows,” Annika pointed out. “She must know if this Malmon does. She could come sooner.”

“We’ll be ready,” Sawyer assured her. “And as far as ready, dinner nearly is.”

“Riley is to set the table.”

“What? Oh, right.”

“I’m making brush-etta.”

“Bruschetta,” Sawyer corrected.

Annika mouthed the correct pronunciation as Riley grabbed dishes.

As they ate together, all six, and planned, Annika kept an eye on the sky. Nerezza would send her creatures through the sky.

Later, she stepped out front and watched the sea. When Sawyer came out, she let herself lean against him.

“You should try to get some sleep. I really think we’ve got a couple days yet.”

“Why do you think that?”

“I think she’ll use Malmon first, see what he can do, if he can cause some damage. We hurt her last time, and she won’t forget that. And she failed, so it figures she’ll try something else. Malmon’s the something else.”

“You can’t let him hurt you.”

“Don’t intend to. What else?”

“I like to hike. Tomorrow we’ll walk in the hills, but . . . we won’t go into the sea. In Corfu, I could go down to it late at night or very early in the day. Now it’s too far.”

“I can take you down.” He drew out his compass.

“You would?”

“Sure. You can get in a quick swim, then you need to sleep. Tomorrow’s going to be a hot, hard climb. The pool’s going to have to do after that. Go ahead, get your suit.”

When she smiled, sliding her gaze up to him under her lashes, he nodded.

“Okay, I get it. That kind of swim. Well, it should be late enough for it.”

“I don’t change the legs until I’m in the water and away from the shore.”

“All right. Ready?” he asked and took her hand.

“Oh, yes.”

She held tight as they flew.