The Siren flashed him a genuine smile that would send a man far younger than him heart aflutter. “Can’t let him forget that. He might start to think he can get one over on me. Though—“ The Cryptid sighed. “—I wouldn’t say I’m feeling all that scary at the moment.”
“You did good, protecting those children.”
“What I did was put them in harm’s way.”
“You did what you could with the information you were aware of.”
“With the information I know now, what I’m aware of is that I was going to die. What I also know is that when a Fate changes something they shouldn’t, some people who may not have ever been involved can find themselves pulled in ways that are unnatural, that feel like outside thoughts and hands guiding them. And I know you are old enough to realize when somethinglike that is happening, and able to deny it if you really wanted to. So again, Ender, thank you.”
Ender cleared his throat, not liking how intensely the man was staring. “You're going to make me bashful here, if you keep staring, Pretty Siren. And it ain’t nothing to thank me for; I was curious, and bored. That is the only reason I had for doing what I did—” He cut himself off as he had a thought. “Where’s my hat?”
Killian blinked. “Your hat?”
“My Stetson…?”
“Ah, your cowboy hat. I don’t imagine it survived.”
“Son of a bitch!” Ender huffed, before rolling his eyes as he thought about the blast, and really, there were more important things he should actually be worrying about over his damn hat—ugh, but it was vintage, and basically an antique! No… No, focus. “How bad is it?”
He was, of course, asking about the ships. He should ask about his people, but based on what he’d seen running past them, no one in Cryptid Means, aside from himself, would have been close enough to die—well, unless they’d been extremely unlucky.
“The burns shouldn’t scar. The bullet wound will, but it seems your scales rose up and took the brunt of the damage for the other. That man of yours—Soren—said that after a few sheddings, you’ll be good to go back-wise,” Killian explained, completely misunderstanding his question, and horrifyingly misunderstanding his relationship with Soren.
Ender wrinkled his nose. “I don’t like how you said that. Soren is one of the men under my command, but he is notmyman.”
Killian’s brow rose slightly, clearly in doubt. “If you say so.”
“Y-you!” he sputtered, before letting out a frustrated hiss. Even though he knew he shouldn’t, he let himself correct the misunderstanding for once, sneering, “Now, listen real closely,Siren, as I’m about to clue you in on some information y’all have been dying to get your grubby hands on for a few centuries now.
“Soren has never, and will never, be my lover, because neither of us are quite that southern, or sweet home Alabama, to have any interest in an incestuous relationship. As blood or not, he was my parents’ child for five years already by the time I was born, which makes him, what now?”
Killian’s eyes widened. “You’re brothers. That—” The man cut off, chuckling softly. “You know, that makes a lot of sense…”
Ender smirked. “That we are, and I’m sure it does. But do push the romantic relationship idea when he’s around, it’s always fun to watch him squirm. But no, lovers we are not, you are just mistaking it for his mother hen emerging.
“Oh, where are my manners? I forgot to thank you for dragging my ass back into this world of pain with your pretty as shit voice.”
He couldn’t say he expected to be woken up by a voice that calmed every fucking thing inside him, which was odd. For a moment, he hadn’t had his usual panic at being alive another fucking day without them. Sirens were damn dangerous.
“Ah, thank you…I think?” Killian said with a frown.
“It was a compliment. No worries. Either way, I wasn’t asking about if I had added more scars to this old body of mine, I was asking about how badly the three ships were damaged, not to mention my people.”
The Siren winced. “For your people only a few injuries, no deaths, but we likely won’t be going anywhere for weeks…and from my understanding, it will only be if someone has reached our asses by then, as there is no fixing what is wrong with the engines.”
As calming as he found the man’s voice, his stomach dropped with each word. “How the fuck did my ship get damaged to that point?! Red Herring wouldn’t have been anywhere near theBureau’s breach point! Wait, no, what’s wrong with your ship’s engine, or Riker’s for that matter?!”
“While your crew is loyal, apparently, Captain Calico Delgrim’s was not. You got hit with your shields down, and the spy that boarded with the pirates did some major and unrepairable damage to your core engine. Meanwhile, there were more explosives than just what was at the breach point. A likely spy of Riker’s planted a few on ours, and we are assuming Riker himself rigged up Brick Bond before his well-deserved demise.”
“I’m going to kick Calico’s ass!” he hissed, at the same time, his chest tightened as panic began to set in.
Fuck, fuck, fuckity, FUCK! Ender…wasn’t sure he could do this. No, it was more that he knew he couldn’t. There was absolutely no way he could go through what was coming without the drugs, because him being lucid was not even a remotely safe option for anyone!
The dream that morning…or was it yesterday morning? He supposed it didn’t really fucking matter either way. If that really was the beginning of this year’s devolving of his fucking sanity, then they’d be lucky if they even had… By the Goddess, he didn’t even want to calculate how little time they possibly had. But…that dream could have just been a fluke… Until proved otherwise, he had to assume that it was…
“What sort of drugs do you all have with you?” Ender blurted out.
The Siren blinked. “Excuse me? Drugs…?”
