Page 5 of A Siren Song for Christmas

Trent turned back. “Yes?”

Mr Marin smiled, sharp teeth visible. “Merry Christmas.”

Chapter

Three

Malachi Marin watched as Mr Berry stuttered out a thank you, his cheeks flushed. Then he left the store.

Mr Berry was an extremely pretty young man. But for some reason, he always seemed so nervous and jumpy. Malachi was confused as to why. At first, he’d assumed it was because Malachi was a siren.

He picked up the tank containing the elothea grass and placed it carefully beneath the counter, trying to keep the water level and the plant undisturbed. He kept it close to the counter, as Mr Berry would return every day for fresh seeds. The plant did not like the light so preferred to be tucked away.

Malachi stared at the plant in the water for several seconds. Then he moved on to wiping down the counter. It was almost closing time.

It would not be surprising if Mr Berry was scared of sirens. It was rare for sirens to live in Anorra, since it was so far from the sea. It meant there was a general lack of familiarity and knowledge regarding his kind in the city.

And Malachi did have tentacles and sharpened teeth. He understood they could be startling.

Also, there were quite a few peculiar stories about sirens. Particularly stories of people casting themselves into the sea after hearing a siren song. Malachi paused and stared at the cloth against the wood.

Those stories were nonsense. It made sirens out to be monsters. But strangely that was not what most bothered Malachi.

It was the fact that it so greatly misunderstood what was occurring. It removed all romance, passion, intensity, and love from the siren singing their mate song. They turned it into something horrific, something to be feared.

In truth, if an individual cast themselves into the sea after hearing a siren singing to them, it was only so they could fall into the arms of their siren mate.

Malachi stared blankly at the cloth in his hand. He let out a shaky breath. He closed his eyes and swallowed the lump rising in his throat. After a moment, he gave his head a shake and continued.

Mr Berry had come into his store daily for months. When Malachi considered this, it seemed odd that Mr Berry would continue to be nervous around Malachi. Surely he would have realised by now that Malachi had no intention of harming him.

Perhaps Mr Berry was just a person with a nervous disposition. Probably prone to profuse twitching, being flustered, and blushing. Luckily, the young witch was really very pretty when he blushed.

I wonder if anyone treasures him?

Of course, that was none of Malachi’s business if the man had a keeper, mate, or someone who held him dearer than all others.

Still, he always tried to put Mr Berry at ease, keeping his voice gentle and his movements predictable. It didn’t help. Strangely, if anything, the human became more awkward andnervous over time. Perhaps his brother’s continued illness weighed on him.

But what was that thing Mr Berry had said about a green or blue thumb? It must be some human or city folk idiom Malachi was unfamiliar with. Because despite the fact that he’d lived in the city for so long, there was still so much he did not know. He was still an outsider.

In his mind, he pictured a faraway ocean that he had once called home. He thought of those he’d left behind.

But of course, he couldn’t have stayed. Not after…

He didn’t belong there. That was all. Even before he’d left, he’d been an outsider there. And now he was an outsider here.

Finished cleaning the counter, he made his way through the store, checking on the plants and going through his closing routine.

“Is there anything else you need, my dears?” Malachi asked as he passed the plants.

But of course, he’d been tending to the plants throughout the day, ensuring all their needs were well met.

“Then I bid you goodnight and a pleasant sleep.” Malachi walked to the front door and locked it. He turned the sign from open to closed. Then he made his way around the room, shutting off lanterns and closing up the store. Going through the motions.

And it was Christmas already. What had he done this year?

Nothing he could think of.