The Scent of Salt & Sand: An Escaped Novella Page 8

  But now he had an excuse.

  He pulled out one of the flyers his sergeant had passed out at the beginning of his shift and marched toward Siren Tours.

  “Melody can’t get mad at me for doing my job.” He swallowed hard. “At least, I hope not.”

  He entered the shop, relieved when he saw that it was free of customers. “Harmony!” he boomed a little too enthusiastically as he headed for the tall blonde. “You’re just the Siren I wanted to see.”

  “Dean?” Shock shook her voice. “I didn’t think I’d see you here again. And in your uniform. Melody didn’t mention you worked for the police.”

  “Yes, ma’am.” He tapped the shield fastened above his left breast pocket. “I’m one of the good guys.”

  “I can see that.” She left her paperwork and circled the cashier’s counter. “So, what brought you in this evening?”

  “There was an attack not too far from here about one month ago. We still haven’t caught the perpetrator. We don’t want you to be alarmed, just aware.” He handed her the flyer containing the SFPD tip line number, a few notes about the suspect, and a bulleted list of ways to stay safe in the city.

  “An attack by someone in a costume? That sounds horrible.” She read the rest of the page before setting it on the countertop. “Was anyone injured?”

  “I’m afraid the victim lost his life.” He shook away visions of the bloody scene and masked assailant. “But I’m not here just to give you that.”

  “Oh?” She set the paper on the countertop and crossed her arms over her chest.

  “Do you have a problem with me?” He rushed through the sentence, making it sound curter than he’d planned. “Wait, don’t answer that. Let me start again.” He sighed. “I want to let you know that you don’t have to worry about Melody.”

  “Worry about her?” Harmony smirked, the lines around her mouth deeper than he remembered. “She’s a strong girl. I know she’s able to take care of herself.”

  “Yes, she’s very strong, and smart, and talented, and funny. I wouldn’t do anything to risk losing her.”

  “Ah, I see,” she said, slowly closing the gap between them.

  “I know there’s family stuff going on. She even told me not to come here, but I knew if I could just talk to you and show you that I’m a good guy, we could figure this out. Harmony, I won’t hurt her.”

  “Oh, I know you won’t hurt her.”

  Dean’s stomach clenched instinctively. “What do you mean by that?”

  “Hmm?” Harmony brushed past him, switching the front sign from OPEN to CLOSED.

  “What are you not telling me?” His breath quickened as he moved his hand to hover above his baton.

  “Dean.”

  Harmony’s voice was buttery and warm, and his ears throbbed with the beat of imagined music as he waited for her to say something more, anything more.

  “You don’t need your weapons.”

  The world around him melted, and he knew nothing but her. “I don’t need my weapons.” His hand relaxed next to his side, and he let the illusory tune take hold.

  “Good. Now, let’s go into my office.”

  • • •

  It was only a little past eight, but the neon light hanging above the door to Siren Tours read CLOSED in glowing red letters.

  “Huh,” Melody mused as she pulled open the door. “Harm, you closing early? I came to grab my phone. I think I left it here.” The only answer was the hum of fluorescent lights. “Harmony? Hello?”

  “Melody!” The word was muffled, obstructed by the closed office door.

  “Dean?” She ran to Harmony’s office and jiggled the handle. Locked. “Dean? Are you in there?”

  “Quiet!” Harmony seethed.

  “Harmony?” Melody pressed her ear against the door. “What are you doing? Open the door!” Her fists thundered against the wood.

  Don’t let them take him.

  “I won’t!” Melody screamed against the ever-present voice whispering between her ears.

  Her hands heated as scales surged to life from her fingers to her elbows. She tried the knob again. It caved under her grip, and she ferociously ripped it through the wood, splinters spraying from the new hole. She tore open the door. Her body sizzled against the change creeping up her arms and legs, threatening to engulf her.

  “Melody, run!” Dean shouted as Harmony hurled herself against him. His body bounced off of hers, smacking into the brick wall behind him. Groaning, Dean crumpled to the floor.

  Melody rushed to his side.

  “She’s the monster. The one that killed that man. Get out of here,” he croaked. “Go.” He blinked sluggishly before closing his eyes, his head lolling back against the brick.

  “Melody, I—” Harmony began, but Melody’s anger punched through her words.

  “What’s wrong with you?” she shrieked, rising to her feet. “Why would you do this?”

  “I’m cleaning up your mess.” Harmony’s silvered scales rippled as she spoke. “He’s in danger, Melody. You put him there. How do you not see that?”

  “I put him in danger? You would have killed him.” She stepped toward Harmony, so close the waves of heat twisting off of her gray scales bit at her eyes. “And for what? Some ancient code? This isn’t Greece, and we aren’t the ruling species. We don’t have the right to take this realm or murder innocent people. Our time here is over. We belong in Tartarus.”

  “You don’t know what you’re talking about.” Harmony’s temples pulsed.

  “I know enough.”

  “Step back.” Harmony’s breath blew back strands of Melody’s wild mane. “Sit down. It doesn’t have to be this way.”

  “So you’re going to change the rules, and let me have this one good thing in my life?”

  Harmony sighed. “Melody, if you’d let me explain—”

  “I’m tired of your lessons.” She bent down and placed Dean’s arm around her shoulders, hugging him against her side and hefting him to his feet.

  “Melody?” He groaned and looked groggily around the room.

  “It’s fine. Everything’s going to be fine,” she assured him, turning her attention back to Harmony. “My mother trusted you to protect me, to make sure I was happy. He makes me happy. Don’t you want that for me? Or do you just want to use me to break the stupid curse like you use the others?”

  Harmony paused for three beats of Melody’s hammering heart.

  “Be sure about this, Melody. I don’t know that I can shield you from whatever consequence this might carry.”

  Melody lifted her chin. “I’ll take my chances.”

  Harmony took a deep breath. “Dean, can you hear me?”

  He nodded listlessly.

  “You don’t remember coming here. You only remember meeting Melody outside the store. You decided to go out. You had a great time, but you drank too much and fell.” Sadness crept into Harmony’s voice as her scales faded, replaced by pink flesh. “I have to tell Rhapsody.”

  Melody swallowed against the hard lump building in her throat. “You know the best part about the humans? They’re willing to stand up for what they believe is right.” She adjusted Dean’s arm around her shoulders and supported him as they hobbled out of the store.

  Chapter Eleven

  Melody twitched under the covers. Her heartbeat quickened and sweat beaded her body as the all-too-real dream unfolded.

  “Jay, I got it! I got the job!” She snatched the freshly printed pages off the printer, and hugged the warm papers against her chest. “You are now talking to the newest member of St. David’s Labor and Delivery Unit!”

  There was a slight lag before he spoke, his voice tinny through the crackling reception. “I knew you would! Never doubted you for a minute.”

  “You’re the best.” Still uncomfortable in the bursts of silence between exchanges, she straightened and restraightened the job offer before plopping it on the side of the bed that remained neatly tucked in.

  “We�
�ll celebrate when I get home. Maybe finally take that trip to Hawaii we’ve been talking about.”

  “We deserve it. There’s a lot to celebrate: my new job, your freedom from the military, our wedding, when I’ll no longer be Melanie Blackwell…our new normal life.”

  “A normal life. I like the way that sounds.” His smile was audible. “I gotta get going. Should be able to make another call on Friday. I love you, Mel.”

  “I love you too, Jay. Be safe. I miss you.” The line went dead.

  After the abrupt ending of each phone call, she never felt like she’d said enough. What if she never spoke to him again? Did he know how much she loved him?

  She fell back against her pillow and stretched her arm over the empty space next to her. “I miss you so much, Jay.”

  The doorbell rang, forcing Melody from the distant memory.

  “Jay.” She groggily stretched out her arm and ran her hand along the cool sheets of the undisturbed side of the bed.

  The doorbell trilled again.

  Melody’s eyelids flew open and she sucked in her first conscious breath. “Coming!”

  Please don’t be Harmony. Or worse…She shuddered at the memory of Harmony’s promise to contact Rhapsody after she’d made the decision to rescue Dean. But that was a week ago.

  She plastered on a fake grin and opened the door.

  “Ms. Seirina?” The bellman craned his neck to see around the large potted plant he gripped with both hands.

  “Yes.” Melody caught a glimpse of her Medusa-like shadow, and self-consciously smoothed down her hair.

  “I guess I should clarify. Are you Ms. Melody Seirina? There are quite a few of you staying with us. It can get a little confusing.” He chuckled nervously.

  “You have the right Seirina.” She smiled.

  A bead of sweat rolled down his temple as he shifted his weight.

  “Oh, I’m sorry. That must be heavy. Come in.” She padded out of the way and held open the door.

  He waddled inside and let out a small grunt as he squatted to place the planter on the floor. “There’s a great florist not far from here. I can run out and grab some plant food if you’d like.”

  Melody shrugged. “I haven’t cared for a plant before, but it makes sense that it would need to eat.”

  “I’ll have the finest plant cuisine to you in no time.” He brushed off his hands and straightened his uniform. “Oh, it also arrived with this.” He reached into his vest pocket and handed her a small white rectangle. “Have a great day, Ms. Seirina.”

  She waited until the door was firmly closed behind him to open the miniature envelope. “This past month has been pure magic. I hope it never ends,” she read aloud, instantly knowing who the boxy handwriting belonged to. “Dean!” she gushed, shoving her nose against the flower’s familiar velvety buds. The gardenia’s saccharine scent enveloped her, and she understood, for the first time, what it meant to have butterflies in her stomach.

  Silently, she’d applauded herself for keeping Dean in the dark about his near-fatal run-in with Harmony. Not that he remembered—Harmony had made sure of that—but there were times when his cop instinct began to guide him down that treacherous path.

  He’s in danger, Melody. You put him there.

  “Well, now he is. Since you tried to kill him,” she huffed.

  At least she hadn’t had to worry about her sisters finding out anything. They were all too busy doing stuff Melody tried hard not to think about or overhear. There had been some tricky moments, but she’d pulled it off.

  Pushing aside her trepidation and focusing on the happiness Dean brought, she twirled around the living room. Nearly tripping over her gift, she let out a breathy laugh and steadied herself against an accent table.

  Her gaze lingered on the vibrant leaves before lifting to meet her reflection’s. Her cheeks were bubblegum pink with mirth, and she pressed her cool fingers against them. She’d answered the door without putting on any makeup, but that didn’t matter. The skin around her eyes and lips remained smooth, and her forehead wrinkled only when she lifted her eyebrows. She stared at herself intently, raising each eyebrow one at a time, and feeling extraordinarily human when unlined skin rested across her still brow.

  She dropped her hands, releasing the card onto the table. The back of the card stared up at her, and on it the words To: Mel.

  “Mel?” She cringed.

  A nauseating palpitation took hold inside her chest, squeezing her lungs and forcing her breath out in labored grunts.

  I love you, Mel. The shadow of a dream stirred and her vision doubled. Over the past month she’d gotten better at holding the flickering visions at bay, but she needed answers and today she had more than images. She had a name.

  She darted from the living room and raced to her bedside table. She grabbed her phone and pressed the blue Internet icon, thankful she’d listened to all of the technology tutorials Harmony had bored them with.

  “Okay, Google, if you can bring me information about anything in this realm, show me Melanie Blackwell.” She jabbed the search square and waited the 0.14 seconds for Google to return with an answer. “Wow.” She rolled the phone over, expecting to see residue from some sort of other-realmly magic. “You’re fast.”

  There were pages and pages of results. Too many if Melody wanted to continue living her own life. “Hmm.” She squinted, forcing herself to remember more of the dream. “Melanie Blackwell, St. David’s. And search.” The second search result made her feel like her heart was lodged in her throat.

  Melanie Lane Blackwell Obituary—Visitation and Funeral Information—Floral Haven.

  With a shaky finger, she tapped the blue lettering. The obituary was short, mentioning the family members she was survived by, the career at St. David’s she’d worked the entirety of her short life to excel at, and the fiancé she’d loved dearly. Melody scrolled down to the page’s “Memories” section and read boxes and boxes of well wishes and comments left by friends and family. Hillary Kerns had posted a picture with the caption, Such a happy day!

  Melody couldn’t move. She could barely breathe as she studied the women in the picture. One was Melanie. She recognized her from her photo accompanying the obituary. Her deep brown doe eyes glistened off the screen as she smiled at the camera, showing off her left hand and the sparkling diamond ring perched on her finger. The same ring Melody had seen in her vision, flickering and ghostlike, on her first day working at Siren Tours. But what made the pit in her stomach deepen, threatening to swallow her whole, was the woman Melanie clutched next to her.

  She swiped her fingers over the image, zooming in on the woman’s smiling face. “I know her.”

  Three swift knocks echoed from the door. Melody flinched so hard she lost her grip on the phone. It slapped against the floor. The knocks repeated, this time with more force. Melody plucked her phone up off of the carpet, slipped it into her pocket, and tightened the robe around her before scurrying down the hall.

  “That was quick.” The last word came out a strained whisper.

  “I won’t bother to ask who you were expecting.” Melody’s stomach knotted as Rhapsody’s predatory glare traced her body.

  “Don’t be rude, Melody,” Harmony scolded.

  “Oh, right. Sorry.” She cleared her throat and offered a sweeping gesture toward the living room. “Please, come in.”

  Rhapsody brushed past her, sliding off her trench coat and tossing it across Melody’s shoulder. Sand-crusted droplets seeped through Melody’s bathrobe, spreading sticky salt against her skin.

  “Rhapsody just arrived,” Harmony explained.

  “And you are the first one of my girls I wanted to see.” Beads of water dripped from Rhapsody’s hair and splatted around her feet.

  Melody lifted her gaze from the floor, taking in the gentle slopes of Rhapsody’s body. “Me? Why me?” she asked, even though she already knew.

  Rhapsody wore her true skin as she would a tailored suit. Streaks of sunlight glint
ed off her honey-colored scales, and they rippled shades of deep gold the dim light in Tartarus could never reveal.

  Harmony sighed. “We’re aging quickly. We don’t have much time left, and you’re not doing what has to be done.”

  “Yes I am.” Her meek tone revealed the lie.

  Rhapsody scoffed. “Harmony tells me you’ve been with the same man for weeks now, yet he’s still alive. You mustn’t play with your food, my dear.”

  “But I’m not. I—”

  “Stop lying!” Rhapsody barked with unabashed ferocity, her carnivorous gaze fastened to Melody. “At least you seem to be good at one thing. Your makeup looks…” She took a step closer, squinting.

  Oh no. Melody’s stomach clenched. Please don’t notice I’m not wearing any. Please. She flinched as each of Rhapsody’s inspective looks struck her clean skin.

  “Wonderful. Completely flawless.”

  The tension in Melody’s chest unraveled, and she took a full breath for the first time since opening the door.

  “I’m impressed.” Rhapsody pursed her lips as if the compliment left a bitter trail across her tongue. “That should only make it easier for you to find a suitable sperm donor.” She tossed back her wet hair, catching her reflection in the mirror. Sauntering to the glass, she said, “Oh, I wish this beauty would last. How we would rule this realm as we did so many centuries ago—our species free again.” She cleared her throat. “And, Melody, I want proof you’re completing your true task. Bring me a finger, or a toe.” Slick white teeth cut through her smile. “Maybe even the human’s head. And I want it today.”

  “Today? But I can’t today. I have to—”

  “You have to do only what I say you must do. You have no other purpose here. Your life is simple, really.”