Page 32 of Siren in Love (In Love #1)

Corvin

C orvin was back on the bed in their honeymoon suite. He lay on soft sheets, his head on a soft pillow, and cool lips pressed against his. Mike. He wanted to pull Mike close. Maybe the window in their room was open. Corvin was cold, so cold.

He came back to himself, at first very slowly, then violently, coughing water and panting. He wanted Mike, but it wasn’t Mike leaning over him, breathing into his lungs. It was Peter.

Corvin croaked and tried to struggle upright. Peter was gone a moment later, and Corvin panicked.

He looked around. On his right, a dark figure approached them. Corvin thought he heard mad laughter, but he couldn’t be sure. The sky was no longer night’s black, but the color of fresh bruises. On Corvin’s left, Peter knelt, bent over Mike’s limp body.

No!

Corvin struggled into a sitting position, which was when Dominic reached them, and before Corvin could do a single thing, the necromancer kicked him in the side, hard.

It brought Corvin down, panting, into the sand. The rough, near strangled scream that broke the morning stillness a second later was unnatural, wild—rage cast into a sound. Corvin coughed and tasted blood. He turned to the left, where the sound was coming from.

Peter was covering his ears, and Mike…Mike looked more fury than siren.

Mike! He’s okay!

Corvin swallowed blood. He couldn’t see right. He had water in his eyes and blinking it out of the way wasn’t easy. He had to concentrate to do it.

He looked around to see where the necromancer had gone. Dominic was walking into the waves. He was already thigh deep and only getting deeper. Far out, a gray arm poked out of the water that glowed in pale orange pre-dawn light. The zombies were beckoning their master toward them.

No, that’s not it. Corvin looked at Mike.

Dark bruises ringed his throat, and he looked about as shitty as Corvin felt; pale, wet, cold.

Peter had taken his hands off his ears, and Corvin realized that while he could hear Mike’s call, it wasn’t eardrum shattering.

No, the siren song was similar to Mike’s humming.

Something so subtle you’d never know it was there until the power had you.

Dominic. He’s controlling Dominic. He must’ve lost his earplugs. Or did he think Mike was dead?

Another minute longer and the necromancer’s head ducked under a wave. Another minute after that, the noise fell away to nothing. Mike looked over at Corvin. Sand stuck to both their clothes, to Peter’s as well. The vampire’s nice shirt and pants were utterly ruined.

It didn’t matter. Nothing mattered after Mike pulled Corvin into his arms.

“Ouch,” Corvin said.

“What?” Mike eased Corvin back, his hands roaming over him, checking for injuries.

“He got me in the ribs.”

“Fucker,” Mike said.

“W-what I said.”

Peter helped both of them to their feet. “We should get back to the resort promptly. I’ll call a cleanup crew.” He looked at both of them. “And maybe someone with a medical background for a little checkup. You both look like you need a checkup.”

“You try drowning and see how you hold up,” Corvin said.

Peter shrugged. “I can handle a drowning just fine, thank you very much. I may have tried it during that time when hunting witches was popular. It was even more fun fucking with the inquisitors before I ate them. Still, this was a lot of involuntary bathing. Might I request you get married somewhere far removed from the ocean?”

Mike nodded. “I like that plan.” His voice came out gruffer than Corvin had ever heard it.

“Mike, is your throat okay?”

“I’m fine, hon. Don’t worry about me.”

With sand in their hair and salt water dripping off their noses, Mike kissed Corvin. He’s warm and alive, my humming pineapple siren.

At least for the moment, that was everything Corvin could’ve wished for.