Breathe, just...breathe.
But it's no use. The fear is like a living thing inside me, clawing at my insides like a monster.
"We're stuck down here with a crazy fish lady, and your soul is on the line," my voice barely above a whisper. "If anything happens to you…I'll never forgive myself."
Lucian rolls his eyes. "Well, excuse the hell out of me for trying to save your cute little ass, Honey Pot! So, my heroic move sucked ass. My bad! And all this 'lost souls' crap you're rambling about? It's all Greek to me, Dream Girl. What kind of dick do you think I am? A premium-grade-A asshole with extra cheese? Besides, if I let you kick the bucket on my watch, those witchy wonder twins would never shut up about it. They'd probably drag your soggy ass back from the dead so they could murderme in technicolor while you watched with popcorn. So yeah, you're welcome for the impromptu lifeguard service, Baywatch."
I roll my eyes. His memory loss is cranking the chaos up to eleven. Before I can come up with a scathing retort, Rhyland's voice thunders into my head.
"Dani."
I keep my tone soothing, trying to calm the storm I can feel brewing in Rhyland's mind.
"Hey, babe, don't freak out. I was Siren-napped and was brought to Calypso's lair, but I'm not hurt. Lucian is here with me."I quickly respond, thanking every deity I can think of that I can still communicate with him in this underwater deathtrap.
"How the hell—"He stops, and I can feel his relief through our bond, knowing that I'm unharmed. But I can also sense his anger and hostility at the situation simmering beneath the surface."How can I get to you? Tell me what to do, and I'll fucking do it."
I send a wave of calm through our connection, trying to soothe his rage."I know you would, babe, and I love you for that. But let's try to handle this without going all 'Poseidon's Wrath' on the entire ocean, okay? Calypso has the Soul Stone—she's threatened Lucian already, and…she needs me for some bullshit quest, so I'm going to see what she wants. In the meantime, stay put until I can find a way out of here. I don't need you charging in, guns blazing, and pissing her off."
"Fuck—she does? You're certain it's the Soul Stone?"his tone uncertain."I don't fucking like this, Dani. You know I hate sitting on my ass while you're being held captive by some sea bitch."
I think back to those freaky shadow wisps and how she nearly choked Lucian to death.
"Without a doubt! Just don't do anything stupid, Rhyland—I mean it. Trust me, okay?"
"I do trust you. That has nothing to do with this, Angel. And why the hell is Lucian down there with you? What happened with him—when you went back?"
"Cliffnotes version—Emily summoned me to the apartment. Plot twist: she's a witch now. Apparently, when you bring someone back from the dead at a witch massacre, you absorb their magical mojo, and now Em's got a shiny new set of witchy powers. They had staged a daring rescue mission for Lucian, who's now basically a toddler in a grown man's body, thanks to Azrael and that other witch bitch hitting the 'factory reset' button on his brain."
Rhylandis quiet for an eternity before finally responding,"Oh. What the hell do you mean by 'factory reset' button?"
"Lucian's memory is a blank slate—He doesn't remember anything about us, the mission, nada."I quip.
"You alright there, champ? You look like you're trying to hold in a fart that's got a vendetta against your intestines. Your face..." he circles his finger around his face, emphasizing his point, "has got 'constipated philosopher' written all over it. What's on your mind, sunshine?"
I scoff. "No, you dumbass. I'm talking with Rhyland."
He stares at me like I've just claimed to be the lovechild of Bigfoot and the Loch Ness Monster. I let out an exasperated sigh, realizing that I will have to reteach this walking, talking embodiment of a migraine everything from scratch, and the mere thought of it is already making my brain throb in protest.
My thoughts cut off as a male Siren glides into the room, like some water God.
He's tall, with long brown hair that looks like it was styled by a mermaid with a salon addiction, and dark eyes that could make even the most hardened criminal go weak in the knees. And his body—he's ripped like a Greek god, with abs you could grate cheese on. He's wearing flowy pants made from seaweed and wishful thinking, leaving his chiseled chest on full display.
As the siren approaches me, I find myself scuttling back like a crab on a hot beach. Ever the gallant hero, Lucian steps in front of me, his hands held out like he's trying to stop traffic. "Whoa, whoa, that's far enough, shark bait," his tone serious, with enough machismo to make Rambo look like a pussy.
The siren smirks like he's heard it all before. And then, he starts to hum. And holy shit, it is a sound that could make even the most tone-deaf person weep with joy. It's beautiful and eerie all at once.
I can feel my eyes glazing over, my body turning mush like I'm under some spell. Even Lucian, usually about as hypnotizable as a brick wall, looks ready to follow this guy into the depths of hell.
Then, just as quickly as it started, the humming stops. I shake my head, trying to clear the cobwebs from my brain. "It looks stunning on you," the Siren says, his voice like honey poured over gravel.
I blink, trying to figure out what the hell he's talking about. And that's when I feel it—a weight around my neck that wasn't there before. I reach up, and holy shit, there's a seashell necklace wrapped around my throat like a choker.
"What the hell?" I mutter, trying to yank the thing off. But it doesn't budge; the smooth, cold surface of the shell chokes me more like a noose."What is this?" I demand, my voice rising in pitch. "Take it off." I cough, trying to get air.
The Siren smirks like he's getting a kick out of watching me struggle. "The more you try to remove it, the tighter it'll get. Unless you're into autoerotic asphyxiation, I suggest you leave it be," he says, his voice oozing with smugness. "Calypso's gift to you."
"Why? What the hell is this thing?" I growl, my hands balling into fists at my sides. The choker finally eases up, letting me breathe properly again.
