Siren's Call. Debbie Herbert

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СКАЧАТЬ the truth. Lily nodded. “Well, okay, then. Let’s start over.” She took a deep breath and plunged on. “How about dinner at my place tonight or whenever you’re free? Your grandfather’s invited too, of course.”

      Nash rubbed his jaw, as if debating whether to accept the invitation. Any other man would have followed her home then and there. Any other man wouldn’t have picked a fight or brushed off her advances.

      But Nash wasn’t like any other man she’d ever met. And Lily was more than a little intrigued.

      “Sorry,” he said, dropping his hand to his side. “I’m pretty busy right now. Maybe after I finish this assignment on Herb Island we can get together. Grandfather always liked you. He’d enjoy seeing you again.”

      The novelty of male rejection left Lily nonplussed until the sting of it burned through the haze of disbelief. “You’re turning me down?” she squeaked.

      Nash retreated a step. “Like I said, I’m swamped at the moment. Good running into you again, though. Take care.”

      Unbelievable. Lily mustered her tattered pride. “Okay, then,” she said in a high falsetto, gripping the cart. “Tell your grandfather I said ‘hey.’”

      She hurried down the aisle, not daring to look back and risk exposing her feelings. The air pressed in around her, leaving her a bit dizzy. She scrambled through the line, paid the cashier and stumbled out of the refrigerated environment into the untamed, sizzling bayou air that always held the droning of insects and an echo of the ocean’s wave. First thing when she got home, she’d go for a long, cool swim underwater, get her bearings.

      Instead of heading immediately to the car, Lily strode down the boiling sidewalk to the drugstore next door. She left the cart by its front door—it would be safe for a minute. Inside the store, Lily hurried to the makeup aisle and gathered up half a dozen lipsticks in every color from baby-doll-pink to siren-red. She peeked at the mirrored glass lining behind the shelves, half expecting to see some glaring new imperfection marring her appearance. But no—same long, flaxen hair, creamy skin and large blue eyes.

      So what had gone wrong with Nash? Why hadn’t he been attracted to her?

      Lily grabbed some blush and a tube of mascara. She’d have to try harder. She hastened over to the cashier and dumped her ammunition on the counter. I’ll go see him. Pay a visit looking my best. She dug into her pocketbook for a credit card, but the purse lining blurred and morphed into a pool of filmy sludge.

      “Are ya crying?” the elderly lady behind the counter asked.

      “I’m not—” Lily paused, hands touching her damp cheeks. “Guess so,” she admitted in surprise.

      The lady handed over an opened box of tissue. “Yer a pretty little thing. Some man ain’t treating ya right, get you another.”

      “Right,” Lily sniffed, swiping her cheeks. She had to get out, get herself together before she ran into anyone she knew. Twyla Fae and Bettina would find the tears a hoot. “Um, thanks. I’ll take the tissue, too.” She paid, retrieved her grocery cart and got to the car. Another five minutes and she could be alone with her thoughts and cry as much as her heart desired. Lily carelessly shoved in the bottled water, bags of seafood and tuna cans. Almost home free.

      She corralled the cart and returned to her car, not noticing anything amiss until she almost stepped on it.

      A dead, bloody rat lay directly outside the driver’s door. The entrails were fresh, and blood was seeping into the shelled pavement. Its skin was precisely cut down the tender underbelly.

      Lily pressed a hand to her mouth as bile threatened to creep up her throat. It’s only a rat. No big deal. Just an accident.

      She clutched her purse tightly against her side and glanced around the parking lot. The few people around paid her no attention, yet the tingles shooting along her spine alerted Lily that someone was indeed watching.

      Watching and enjoying her fear.

      She turned back to the car and noticed the long key scratch that started from the front left tire all the way down to the fender. Anger outweighed fear as she read the large, childlike scrawl etched on the car door.

       D-i-e S-l-u-t.

Chapter 2

      The whir of electric grinder against metal grated on Lily’s ears. She whistled and waved her arms to get her sister’s attention.

      Jet frowned and switched off the grinder. “What?”

      “Are you almost done? You’ve been at it long enough I’m surprised you haven’t sanded a hole through my car.”

      They stared at the long, narrow patch of bare metal on the red Audi S4. Lily ran a finger over the warmed surface, perfectly manicured nails and graceful fingers a stark contrast against the ugly gash. She tried to joke. “Sure can’t see those words now.”

      Jet scowled, not amused. “’Bout time I had a word with Twyla Fae and her posse of bitches.”

      “Don’t. You’ll make it worse.”

      “Can it get much worse? They’re crossing the line into criminal territory with this latest harassment.” Jet gripped the sander so tight in her right arm, her biceps bulged and a network of veins popped against taut flesh.

      Her sister was strong enough to best any man in a fist fight, courtesy of the supernatural strength from her paternal Blue Clan merblood. But against the verbal warfare of scorned women, Lily considered her own reserved veil of indifference a superior tactical maneuver. “Ignore them like I do.”

      “Don’t see your plan working,” Jet grumbled. The fierce glow in her dark eyes contrasted with the large, womanly bump at her waist. Lily shook her head in bemusement. On the surface, their beauty and temperament appeared leagues apart. If she was the ethereal one—silver sparkles drifting on moon-drenched water, soft and shifting and subtle—Jet was more like the oft-admired coral undersea—brittle, bedazzling, with razor-sharp edges that wounded the unwary.

      Down deep, they could each be deadly in their own way.

      Lily placed a hand on Jet’s belly bulge. “Don’t get worked up and disturb the baby.”

      “And don’t you try distracting me.” Yet Jet’s harsh features softened. “Seriously, how about we get Landry and Tillman involved? File a formal complaint.”

      “I’ll think about it.” She had no intention of seeking help from her cop brothers-in-law. Lily sensed their wariness of her, their suspicions about her morals.

      Jet returned the grinder to a shelf. “Translation—you’re too proud to seek help.” She dug into her baggy, denim jeans and produced a set of keys. “Drive this until the body shop in Mobile repairs the damage. I’ll rent something in the meantime.” Jet tossed the keys.

      “Or you could buy a soccer-mom van.” Lily caught the keys and cast a sly smile. No way Jet would forego her clinker of a truck. They could afford anything, thanks to a tidy trust fund built from pawned sea treasure sold by generations of Bosarge mermaids. Why Jet chose to drive the monstrosity was a mystery. Lily’s own aesthetic sensibilities СКАЧАТЬ