Siren's Song

Chapter 3

Chapter Three

Alex immediately forgot his warning. A choked howl escaped her throat involuntarily as she sailed through the air. Before she had a chance to think she would die, Alex landed on her bottom, atop a heap of very hard hay. She was still stunned when the blond brute landed next to her with a pained curse.

“Next time, kindly warn me when you plan on tossing me like a sack of potatoes,” she flashed indignantly. Alex continued to glare at the man, but he just sat there, grinning helplessly, straw poking out of his head. “Well? Have you lost your mind, sir?”

“I surely have. And I do believe I may have injured my delicate backside as well.”

Alex laughed, astonished by his confession. She quickly covered it, remembering they were not yet safe, and gingerly moved to the edge of the cart.

“You’re American,” he stated.

“Yes.” Alex reached out to him and he grasped her waist, easily lifting and sliding her to the ground. She shivered at the contact of her body brushing against his warmth.

“What were you shopping for that is so important to the colonists?”

“We’re a country, so that would be citizens,” she corrected. “And carpets,” she continued, answering his question.

“Did you steal them?”

“Of course not! I’m a merchant. I paid for them. And got a very good price, I might add.”

“I believe you.” He lifted a hand in surrender, while quickly scanning the streets for signs of danger.

“But,” she hesitated.

“Ah. The truth at last,” he teased, pulling her along the edge of a narrow road.

“Well, there was this very, very old woman…and…”

“And?”

“And she kept insisting she knew me, but I know that’s impossible.”

There was a scuttle in the dark ahead of them. Alex was instantly pressed into a shallow doorway and obscured by the giant. She felt his sigh of relief before he freed her.

“Just a rat, scavenging for food,” he informed.

“I’ve encountered a few of those this past day.”

“Indeed,” he said, studying her.

His hand came to her cheek in a caress before quickly falling away, leaving Alex wondering if he had meant to comfort her, or something else. He checked a street as they prepared to turn, and pulled her along. “Quick. This way.”

After a moment he spoke again. “Was she welcoming or threatening?”

“The old lady?”

He nodded, and she continued, “Welcoming. Except for the part about the deadly prophecy, a monster rising from the sea, and the end of days…”

He laughed softly, “That doesn’t sound entirely hospitable.”

“Well, I don’t understand the local dialect that well, so I might be over dramatizing the part about the monster.”

“A relief, to be sure.”

Alex sighed, convinced he would not believe the rest of it. She certainly didn’t. “I must get back to my family and warn them about Paxton—that filthy, bastard.”

“Reginald Paxton?”

“You know him?” She froze in panic, wondering if she was in danger.

“Only by reputation. He is the most successful slave trader in South America—If by your account, ruthlessly trading in human flesh makes one successful.”