“What’s this one called?” you asked.
“A nautilus, the shell of an argonaut, which is a small octopus.”
You tucked the shell into your pocket and said, “Did you know the blood of an octopus is copper-based?”
“I did not.”
“It’s called hemocyanin, which turns its blood blue. Copper is more efficient at transporting oxygen in cold water. I did a research project on it once. I used to think that if I could figure out a way to not have to drink human blood, then I could be normal, you know?”
You gazed at me with that vulnerability that made me want to shield you from the world. And strike down anyone who sought to harm you. I understood your desire for normalcy, but I’d been raised with the certainty that our blood-craving made us exceptional. Lena wouldn’t have tolerated Lucian or me trying to assimilate with humans, though that was exactly what we’d attempted with you.
“You will never be normal, Vincent,” I said, trying to be gentle.
“No, I suppose not.” You grinned ruefully, then lifted your head again. “I don’t know what to do first.”
Since your return, you’d had some difficulties in making decisions. Simple choices like what to eat for dinner or what to wear overwhelmed you.
“We could swim,” I suggested, though I hadn’t thought to pack any swimwear. I’d always gone nude.
You nodded as if relieved to have that settled and started unbuttoning your shirt. My breathing stalled as the fabric fell away from your slender shoulders. I admired the lissome twist of your torso as you turned toward me.
“Aren’t you coming?”
I flushed at being caught. “In a minute.” I hauled our provisions out of the boat and carried them to a dumbwaiter I’d fashioned some time ago, giving you ample time to undress and submerge yourself in the water without me leering at you.
When I returned, your clothes lay in a pile in the sand, and you were exploring where the grotto met with rock face. I quickly disrobed and swam toward you. I didn’t want for you to become fatigued or be swept away by the current.
“What’s that noise?” you asked, turning one ear toward the rock to listen closer. The water boiled where you kicked your feet to stay afloat. I pointedly avoided observing your nakedness.
“That’s the sirens.”
Your eyes lit up with the promise of adventure. “Can we get closer?”
“Follow me but hold onto the rock. The current here is pretty strong.”
We navigated along the rock’s face until we reached the narrow passageway between two islands. I hauled myself out of the water onto a wide shelf, then leaned over and reached for your hand. I’d forgotten how light you were, and when I pulled, you stumbled forward, your slick skin connecting with mine and sending a rush of desire through me. I righted you quickly, putting space between my hardening length and your person. If we were to be intimate, I’d prefer you to initiate our encounters, as you were still adapting to your new life and surroundings. Still, I saw your arousal in the part of your mouth and your breath coming in soft pants.
“I forgot how big you are,” you said. You eyed my shoulders and chest, gaze dropping to caress my abdominals and groin where my cock throbbed, an irrational member. I turned a full circle so that you might feast upon me at your leisure. There was nothing of mine you could not access… my islands, my body, my blood.
Your eyelids fluttered as though caught in a swoon and when they opened, you met my gaze shyly. “I haven’t felt this way in a long time,” you confessed and grabbed at the back of your neck, embarrassed. My eyes skirted your arousal, which then activated my hunger. My fingers longed to touch you; my mouth watered for a taste.
“We’ll take it slow,” I said. I climbed a short staircase of rocks to a spit of land just above the water line where the waves crashed and misted the walls. You joined me there a moment later. The sirens had grown quite loud, sensing our energies and the newness in you. They were impatient to learn the call of the stranger in their midst. Their cries engulfed us in an echo chamber, but they were not quite so doleful as when I visited in the dead of night.
“They sound like the dybbuks in the mine,” you said. “Only… richer.”
I nodded. “They’ve had centuries to perfect their song.” I nearly told you that this was where I’d come to lament your absence, but I didn’t wish to dampen our spirits. Instead I sang an old sea chanty I’d learned from my father many years ago. The sirens mimicked my jaunty song and carried it through the cave in layered harmonies.
“That’s incredible,” you said as your chin lifted in wonder. Your arms were outstretched as if to catch the melodies. “I can feel them vibrating inside me.”
“They tend to absorb the energy and mood of their visitors. They sing for your soul, in sorrow and in joy.”
“Lucian told me how Mater met your father.”
That was a sordid little tale. “He can’t claim he didn’t know what he was getting into.” And yet, hadn’t we all fallen for Lena’s charms at one point or another? A beautiful tyrant. I gestured to where a few shafts of light filtered through the gaps in the rock. “If you look closely, you may see them.”
Your brow furrowed, and you stared in concentration.
“Yes,” you said as a smile spread across your face. “I can see why they might be mistaken for women.”
