Page 3 of Siren Problems
LUNA
T he ley lines here aren’t just strong—they’re erratic . They twist and coil around this damn beach like they’re trying to tie themselves in a knot. Or maybe like something underneath is trying to hold them down.
And every time I scan near the cove— his cove—the readings get weirder.
“So what’s the verdict, Professor?” Mira asks, peering at me from behind a clipboard that’s color-coded, tabbed, and almost definitely enchanted with a mild anti-wrinkle charm.
I don’t correct her on the “professor” part anymore. It’s not worth it. She’s got this starry-eyed respect that I’d feel bad squashing, even if I’m technically still a grad student with caffeine problems and a vendetta against academic bureaucracy.
“The verdict is: your ley density graphs look like spaghetti and this beach is trying to kill me.”
Mira beams. “So normal fieldwork, then?”
I glance up from the cracked screen of my scanner. “Normal fieldwork doesn’t usually involve magic pulses that sing in minor chords or unreasonably shirtless landlords who brood like it’s a full-time job.”
She blushes, scribbles something on the clipboard. Probably unreasonably shirtless landlord . I’m going to regret that later.
We’re sitting on the back porch of the beach house, the scanner gear laid out between us like the world’s most confusing tarot spread.
My laptop hums beside me, its battery drain warning blinking in rhythmic annoyance.
A breeze picks up from the water, carrying the usual combo of seaweed, salt, and someone barbecuing fish way too early in the morning.
Mira flips to a new page. “You said the ley flux was peaking right along the western tide slope?”
I nod, chewing on the end of a pencil that I’m pretty sure I haven’t sharpened since undergrad. “Right where the cove shelf dips off. The resonance hits 9.7 spikes per cycle just before the scanner craps out. It’s localized. Focused. Like the lines are circling something.”
“Buried relic?” she offers.
I shrug. “Or a sealed anchor. Maybe even a submerged altar. Whatever it is, it’s old, and it’s still active. Which is... a little terrifying.”
Mira’s eyes go wide. “Do you think it’s calling something?”
I stare out at the cliffs, my stomach doing this slow roll I pretend is hunger.
“Maybe,” I mutter. “Or maybe it’s trying to keep something in .”
Just then, the porch creaks behind us and I nearly knock over the aura scanner. Mira yelps.
Kai appears in the doorway with two iced drinks that are either potions or smoothies or some terrible in-between. Her hair’s up in a knot, curls spilling out like she’s been dodging explosions.
“Okay,” she says. “I brought you both something to cool down. And by something, I mean this one has electrolytes and this one might be possessed.”
I take the pink one. Mira takes the glowing green one with exactly zero hesitation.
Kai slumps into a deck chair. “So. Magic’s doing weird stuff. Shirtless Fish Man still acting like he invented trauma. Anything else exciting?”
“He hates me,” I say.
“He doesn’t hate you,” Mira mumbles around her straw.
Kai raises an eyebrow. “Oh, he hates that he doesn’t hate you. Which is, like, ten times worse for a guy like that.”
“I’m not here to emotionally rehab a cursed fisherman,” I deadpan. “I’m here to finish my thesis before the department decides to cut my funding and send me back to the data mines.”
Kai grins. “Sure. That’s why you’ve spent the last two nights scanning the ley shelf outside his cove like a creeper with a crush.”
I throw a napkin at her.
She dodges it. Barely.
“I’m serious,” I say. “There’s something there. And every time I try to scan it, Calder shows up like he’s got ley-surge radar built into his abs.”
Mira flips a page. “What if he does?”
I blink. “What?”
She pushes her glasses up her nose. “I’ve been doing comparative readings. His aura signature fluctuates along the same rhythm as the ley waves. Especially during peak hours. It’s faint, but it’s there.”
I sit back, stunned for a second. “Are you saying he’s setting off the surges?”
“I’m saying... he’s connected to them. Maybe not causing them, but definitely reacting.”
Kai whistles low. “Sexy and spooky. My type.”
“No,” I say quickly, too quickly. “We are not doing this.”
“Doing what?” she says, all innocence. “Encouraging healthy exploration of potential romantic entanglements with sexy, emotionally complex supernatural men?”
Mira hides a giggle behind her clipboard.
I groan and take another sip of whatever-the-hell’s in my cup.
But the thing is… Kai’s not wrong. Something about Calder sticks. He’s prickly, growly, and moodier than a teenage shadow sprite, but underneath that? There’s heat. Depth. That weird sadness you only find in things that used to be powerful.
And when he grabbed me the other night—when the surge hit and I almost went over the cliff—I felt it. Not just his hands. Not just the electricity of touch. But something bigger.
Like the ocean held its breath.
I glance down at my scanner. It’s still cracked. Still useless.
But tomorrow, I’ve got a dive scheduled. Low tide. Full spectrum sensors. I’ll get closer this time.
I have to.
Even if Calder tries to stop me again.
That night, I go back out.
Scanner rigged with a jury-rigged stabilizer I cobbled from Mira’s leftover crystals and some gnome-wired copper bands. It hums like a drunk hummingbird, but it’s steady—at least until I hit the bluff line that borders Calder’s cove.
The readings spike again. Higher than before. The ley current bends here, warping like heat above asphalt. Something is pulling the energy.
I plant the tripod, anchor the scanner, and mutter under my breath, “Come on, just give me one clear signal. Just one.”
“You really don’t know how to leave things alone, do you?”
I jolt, nearly knock the sensor into the sand.
He’s there. Calder. Shirt on this time, but just barely—half-buttoned like he got halfway through getting dressed and changed his mind.
“I’m working,” I say. “Don’t you have some brooding to do? Maybe sculpt driftwood into emotionally symbolic art?”
His jaw tics. “You’re pushing the ley field too hard.”
“And you’re not the ley police.”
He steps closer. “You don’t know what you’re messing with.”
“That’s what research is , fishboy. Messing with things until they give up their secrets.”
His eyes narrow. “This place isn't a lab. The sea doesn’t care about your thesis.”
I laugh. Not because it’s funny, but because if I don’t, I’m going to scream. “You think I don’t know that? I’ve been laughed out of every department back home for saying magic affects ocean currents. This is my last shot. So unless you’ve got something helpful to add—back off.”
His gaze flicks to the glowing scanner, then to my hands, still shaking from the surge I absorbed earlier.
“I’m trying to protect you,” he says, voice lower now. Rougher. “You don’t understand what’s buried here.”
I freeze. That’s... not a denial.
Before I can ask, a third voice cuts through the tension.
“Wow. If I’d known this was a thing , I’d have brought snacks.”
Kai stands a few feet away in a flowy top and leather sandals that cost more than my entire aura kit. She’s holding two drinks—one bright blue, one milky pink—and a half-eaten skewer of grilled mushroom from the night market.
“Please, don’t stop glaring at each other. The sexual tension is feeding the ley lines.”
Calder curses under his breath.
I sigh. “Kai.”
She hands me the blue drink. “It’s got electrolytes and a whisper of flirtation enhancement. You’re welcome.”
“To be clear,” I say, “I am not flirting.”
“Nope,” she says, totally ignoring me. “Just aggressively arguing with a hot man at midnight on a magically active cliff. Totally academic.”
Calder rakes a hand through his hair. “I’m leaving.”
Kai calls after him, “Tell your aura it’s looking extra cursed tonight!”
I sip the drink. It tastes like regret and blueberries.
When he’s gone, Kai nudges me with her shoulder.
“You okay?” she asks, quieter now.
I nod. “He knows something. I can feel it.”
“Yup,” she agrees. “And he’s terrified you’ll figure it out.”
I don’t answer.
I just stare at the cove and feel the ley current pulse under my feet like a heartbeat no one’s supposed to hear.