The Afterlife (Siren Suicides, Book 3)

Chapter 7. Strait of Juan de Fuca

After what seems like an eternity, the boat rights itself, but I'm hardly aware of the world around me, swimming in agony. I made the mistake of exposing my father's pain, in front of Hunter, and I expect he'll never forgive me. But I know that I struck gold, that my hypothesis is true. I saw it in his eyes before he shot me. I saw it in his broken posture, in his trembling hand, in his slack mouth, as if his teeth have been kicked out and his lips sank in, making his cheeks hollow and his eyes dead. It's like he's sorry he's being this way yet he has no choice; it's far too ingrained in his nature to change things, and it might take years and years, decades, and only if someone out there would be willing to put up with his shit, to let him spew it out and revive his soul all the way. That would have to be me. He has no one else left.

I'm not sure I'm up for the job. I watch Papa pull back, his eyes wide with surprise, as if he's conscious for the first time of what he's doing, conscious of hurting his own daughter, of what he just did. Then the mask of this is gone and he's back to steel.

"Quiet!" he yells. "I will use the gun, if I have to."

I'm numb all over. My vision is blurry, my hearing echoes, and bitter saliva fills my mouth. My right arm hangs loosely over the side of the seat and I feel Hunter grab it again and squeeze it three times. I wish I understood what he wants and curse my brain, wanting to kick myself. Tears spring from my eyes. I hate it, I hate it.

I hate it!

The slow purring of the motor reminds me that we're still floating somewhere in the Pacific Ocean.

"Let us continue. We have a lot to cover, like I said before. I would prefer that you don't interrupt me again, is that understood?" He looks at me.

I manage a nod.

"Good. I'm sure Hunter is eager to hear the details of this particular job, aren't you, son? You want to go home and check on your mom, am I correct? It's been a while, she must be very worried."

My father is a pro at hurting people.

"Yeah, I can't wait," Hunter says through his teeth with a quiet contempt that's barely detectible.

The thought about putting Hunter in danger cools me, and I know that my father knows it too and is using it to his advantage.

"I want you to understand that siren hunters don't make mistakes. Because if they do, they find themselves dead." This is said to Hunter. "I decided...since you two are so inseparable, I'll send you both on a job. Yes, I think it will be a good lesson for you to learn."

Hunter squeezes my hand three times again. I raise my head, nauseated and reeling.

"You what?" I say, but it's so feeble that my father doesn't hear me. He doesn't look at me; he directs his eyes to the seat beneath me.

"Hunter, you'll be in charge." Now he shifts his gaze up. "Ailen, you'll do what he tells you to do. Is that clear?"

"Wait, you—"

"Do you want another taste of this, or shall I try one on your boyfriend this time?" he asks, and whatever trace of his vulnerability was left, is gone.

Hunter squeezes my hand again, three times. What does he mean? Three is my favorite number. Okay...It takes three minutes for an average person to drown. Does he mean for us to drown together or something? No, it doesn't make any sense.

"You'll go to the siren's feeding ground, the one under the Aurora Bridge, remember? They love fresh suicide jumpers, don't they? I want you to get rid of the two remaining ones, Ligeia and Teles."

What about Canosa? I want to interrupt, but catch the words just in time before they roll off my tongue.

"If, for whatever reason, they're not there, or if they manage to escape you, you'll track them down, all the way to their siren meadow or any other hiding place, and you'll finish them there. You will go as far as you need to go to succeed. If you manage to complete this," he looks at me, "Ailen, I'll let you keep your voice. You have my word."