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But right now, Luke needed a little time, and she was offering that.

Luke’s shoulders slumped in resignation. “Okay, I’ll call the day care and let her know you’re picking Colbs up. He’ll be thrilled, I’m sure.”

“Of course he’ll be thrilled. I’m the fun aunt.”

“You’re the only aunt. Don’t let him swallow any crystals.”

“I don’t have crystals just strewn about—” Shauna paused and cleared her throat. “Actually, I need to…fix up a few things. So bye, have fun with your maybe axe murderer! Don’t forget, you’re doing a good deed!”

Luke hung up. He wasn’t sure that he felt any better, except for the fact that Colby was handled for the rest of the afternoon, and even the night, if Luke wanted.

He supposed he should have expected the conversation to go that way. Shauna was opinionated, yeah, but she also mostly believed the best in people. And she was a caretaker by nature. If she’d been in Luke’s shoes, she’d probably already have offered Syrus free room and board for the foreseeable future.

Luke tried to look at the situation logically. If Syrus had some nefarious intentions, gouging his feet to shit and almost drowning in the surf probably wasn’t the way any sane person would have gone about it. The odds were that he was a decent guy who’d had a bad turn. And Luke had this big house he hadn’t exactly earned, and it wasn’t like he was completely helpless when it came to defending himself.

Luke took a deep breath and stood from the bed. He gathered up all the first aid he’d found—he’d actually had a decent amount hidden away, although most of it was probably expired—as well as the set of spare clothes and a towel.

Shauna seemed to think he’d been reasonable so far, so there was that. And whatever his doubts, Luke wasn’t going to kick an injured, naked man out of his house. So he’d get Syrus fixed up and dressed, and then he’d let the guy rest here for however long he needed to.

It wasn’t like Syrus was going to want to stay forever.

4

SYRUS

The creature flexed his new appendages under the spray. It was painful, as he’d known it would be. He frowned down at the cuts, all those hideous, barely closed scabs. The ocean water should have fixed him already, but whatever the scientists had been giving him during his confinement, it was slowing the progress of his natural healing abilities.

The creature⁠—

But no, he wasn’t only a creature anymore. He was…Syrus. A name he’d given himself, though he had spawned no pups of his own.

A real outcast now, wasn’t he? Ignoring the teachings of his pod as he lay hobbled and stranded, picked up as a stray by a mere human.

But what else was he to do? With an injured tail, Syrus hadn’t been fast enough to catch his own prey—the fish had practically laughed at him with each attempt. And there were larger predators than he in these waters, ones who wouldn’t be afraid to take a bite out of an injured morsel such as himself.

He needed to heal before he could return to the sea, and for that he needed…Luke.

Luke. The human who had answered Syrus’s song.

Syrus hadn’t known if it would work. It had been so long since his pod had lured sailors to their depths. The modern world made it too perilous, and there was food enough in the deep waters to manage without delicacies.

But Syrus still knew the songs. He even knew how to tailor the melody. He’d wanted someone who wouldn’t prick or prod or cut. Someone…gentle. Someone kind.

But he hadn’t intended to lure a father, especially one with no mate.

Syrus scowled down at his ugly feet. What a perilous existence it must be, here in this enclosed wooden box, just the two humans with no one to stand guard. And now Luke had brought a predator into his home, one with sharp teeth and spurs.

Syrus should scold him severely. He would have, if not for the risk of scaring Luke off and being banished from his home. But how was one to warn against monsters without revealing the true monstrosity under the facade?

Ugh. A conundrum.

Syrus suddenly wished for the human to return. This bathroom didn’t have the same terrible sterility of his previous captivity, but it was still unbearably plain, with white walls and white tiles and a white curtain around the bathtub, with even more cold white ceramic against Syrus’s back. It was monotonous, to say the least, and after so much monotony in that tank, Syrus couldn’t stand any more.

Luke, though…Luke was something to watch.

The human had too much hair covering his face for Syrus to get a proper sense of his appearance, but his eyes were a pleasure, green like forest moss when the sun hit just right.

Except moss didn’t sparkle in the sunlight like those eyes did, all shiny and bright with good intentions and sweet concern.