Page 30 of Siren in Love (In Love #1)
“Peter, I’m not an expert at luring the sea, but I can get the waves to help us out at least a little.”
“Wow, what?” Corvin looked out at the ocean. He was ankle-deep in sand, and his hair shimmered chrysanthemum bright in the darkness.
“Yes. You know, there is some truth to that thing about the sailors and how sirens lure them,” Mike said. “We don’t generally drown anyone though.”
Peter cackled. “Make an exception, Michael.”
“Mikey!”
Despite the way the glass had cut up his face, Dominic seemed a lot more cheerful than this nighttime outing warranted. The blood had given his face a mask-like look that wouldn’t have been out of place in a bad horror movie.
“Fucker,” Corvin grumbled.
“Don’t be like this, Mikey. I like that zest of life thing you have going, but if you keep being a dick, I’ll have to raise you after I put you down. Your vocal chords will totally keep if I raise you straight away! Maybe…maybe I’ll do that anyway.”
Corvin spun, feet catching in the sand. “Have you totally lost it, you little—”
“Don’t waste your breath on him. He’s wearing ear plugs, and even if he wasn’t, it wouldn’t do any good.” Mike put an arm around Corvin’s shoulders and pushed him farther down the beach to where the waves came lapping at their feet and ankles.
“I object to anyone threatening my employees!” Peter let out his anger on two more of the undead, chopping off one head and cleaving another nearly in half.
Fuck, what can he do with a proper sword? I probably don’t want to know.
Dominic laughed. The noise had an edge of frayed sanity to it. “I’ll just raise more, vampire. The siren is mine to be raised again. To love me unconditionally.”
“Corvin, stay close to me, okay?” Mike pushed Corvin into the salt water.
“Mike, what—”
“Trust me.”
Corvin’s lips pressed tight. He nodded. He’s truly a gift.
Mike started whistling. Oceans and waves usually responded better to that than to straight-up singing—at least, that was how it worked for Mike.
His mom had told him what a full sea siren could do with their voice, and Mike would have loved to be able to control the ocean’s violent tides like that right now, but he had to content himself with the basics.
Mike kept on whistling and nudged Corvin forward.
“Fine. Going in. Without a sexy bathing suit. The things I do for you,” Corvin said.
Peter waded into the water as well. “The things we both do, Corvin. I would like to point out that these pants are fine cotton and tailored to perfection, and the shirt is silk. This swim will ruin them. The things one has to sacrifice to win.”
Mike ignored Peter and focused on the water.
Instead of calling it forth, he eased it back so that the three of them walked over rocks and shells, deeper and deeper into what the receding waters bared before their feet.
The undead, moaning and eager to swell their ranks, followed, and Peter used his spade when they got too close.
However, with their master there to control them, the zombies were now trying to surround them instead of just coming at them one by one. Mike counted more than ten, even if Peter had taken out a few.
Peter can survive a zombie bite. I might. Corvin wouldn’t. So this plan has to work. I need to get this done, and then I need to send Mom a really nice gift basket to thank her for forcing me to learn how to do this.
Dominic laughed even as the ocean pulled back farther. “You can’t outrun me by carving a path from coast to coast, Mikey! We belong together. When you rise again, you’ll only ever want to sing for me. You’ll make me so happy! Come to me!”
With a snap of his fingers, Dominic’s army of the undead attacked.
Mike modified his whistling to cutting, slicing notes. As eagerly as the water had receded, it flooded back with the kind of unstoppable force unique to nature. Mike bid the waves to flow around the three of them, and the ocean obeyed, but the zombies weren’t so lucky.
Peter smacked his spade into the head of one just as the water came back in, and the ocean tore that creature away, and the spade with it.
Peter made a surprised noise and jumped back into the breach Mike had created, that little wedge of air and ground beneath their feet that the ocean deigned give them.
Peter brushed his salt-slicked hair back. “Well, that’s some skill, Michael. Well done.”
Corvin’s voice rang over the roaring waters. “Pineapple Mike, this is fucking awesome.”
Mike would have kissed him, stripped him, and made love to him right in the dunes, but he needed to keep whistling if he didn’t want to risk the ocean disobeying and drowning them.
The ocean, not in and of itself a killer of the undead, only served to pull the reanimated corpses out to the open sea.
Pale, limp forms were dragged past them in the water that surrounded them like black glass, the zombies’ shrouds or gardeners’ uniforms drifting like nets around their decaying limbs.
Their hands were still reaching, the magic that made them move and crave not dampened at all. Mike didn’t see Dominic anywhere, and since the zombies were still moving against the current with magic-induced strength, the necromancer that had given them that strength still lived.
Mike took Corvin’s hand as he stared at the walls of water around them, wide-eyed and wonderstruck. Peter needed minimal prodding to walk back toward the shore.
Just when it looked as if the zombie problem was neatly solved, at least until they got the necromancer, a grayish arm shot out from the watery walls around them.
Mike was relieved when that bony hand didn’t reach for Corvin, the man he loved and would die for. He was almost happy when those cold, wet fingers closed around his own throat, cutting off the air he needed to keep the water at bay.
The moment the fingers clamped down, Mike’s whistling broke off, and the ocean crashed down over them, leaving them with nothing but darkness and salt.