Siren's Heart: an MM Urban Fantasy Novel (Dylan Rivers Chronicles Book 3) by Richard Amos

Author:Richard Amos [Amos, Richard]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2019-10-03T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Ten

Armed with crudely forged blades and axes, we snuck through a series of flooded backstreets as the sharks screamed for blood, even having to swim a whole street at one point until we reached the beach.

It was empty of shark shifters, of anything.

Without any deliberation, we jogged down the sand, me in the lead. Those keys were jetties of stone, encased in a bright glow of their respective color.

I passed through a shimmering, silver wall, watched it ripple up and outward, revealing a strange hexagonal shape. Inside this huge shell, there was the sounds of the wind and waves and the distinct tinkling of wind chimes. Not overwhelming noise but creepily gentle. Who would have thought a soft chime could hold such ominous menace?

Thumps behind me. My friends hit the wall, meeting faint solidity. Only when they touched it did it reveal itself in silver sparkles.

Frowning, I turned and passed back through and out into the sounds of the city. The cries of the sharks were so close now, and the thunder cracked once again in the storm that edged closer to land at the pace of a tortoise.

“Okay,” I said, “so I have to do this alone.”

Seph punched the shield. “Pedazo de mierda!”

I didn’t know the words, but from the way he delivered them, I would have said they weren’t light and fluffy.

The sharks were so close now. Any moment, their dark shapes would line up on the horizon, spilling down to come and fight.

“But I can’t leave you all here.”

“We can fight,” Jason said, stepping forward. “There’s no other way.” The ax in his hands looked too big for his slender frame. Yet there was fury in those deep cobalt orbs of his.

That blue fire wasn’t enough to convince me. “I can’t leave you.”

“Don’t be a dick,” Seph said. “We got this. You go get yours.”

“I—”

“You gonna stand here and waste time?”

“No. I—”

“That’s what you’re doing. Get in there, and get shit done.”

He cupped my face with his big hand, the act shockingly soft. I almost recoiled but found myself leaning into his palm. There was warmth there, spreading beyond the skin it rested on, stealing some of my breath away.

“I believe in you,” he said, a gentle tone so blissful to my ears.

I couldn’t speak, just stared at him, puzzled yet already dreading his hand being taken away.

He was right. Me standing here was a complete waste of time. If I used my song of enchantment, I would be weakened, and there would be no action taken on the quays. Come sunset, I wanted to leave this city with at least one of the quays undone.

But my friends. What if something happened to them? I hated that death was the terrible fact of war—the ultimate consequence. To hell with all of it and its light-sucking shadow. Losing any of them would break me. Life is an absolute arsehole at times, just longing to take the rug we stand on and give it one almighty yank. Just for kicks, to test us, to push us to the limits.

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