Voices of the Sea (23 page)

Will thrashed around, trying to throw off the fire consuming his body. With a bellow, he raced forward and leaped on Nicholas, turning and writhing in agony. The flame came to life, growing around them both.

“No!” Lora screamed. She and Ryan raised their guns, but neither could get a clean shot without hurting the small boy. Instead they lowered their weapons and ran to help their friend. She and Ryan used their feet to push Will off the small boy. Ryan dragged Nicholas away through the sand.

But Lora could see the fire had not affected the boy at all. There were no burns on his body. Ryan helped Nicholas to his feet, but the boy only swayed, then collapsed back to the ground. A trickle of blood crept down his stomach.

“You’re hurt!” Lora said, kneeling down next to him. She ripped his shirt and used the fabric to cover the wound.

“Press on it,” Ryan said as he murmured soothing words to the Siren protector. Nicholas winced in pain when she pressed harder.

Behind them, Will’s agony continued. The flames had not killed him yet. He lay on the ground, crying and wailing.

“Help him,” Nicholas whispered.

Lora soothed Nicholas’ brow and grasped his hand, placing it on the cloth so he could cover his wound. Then she grasped Ryan’s hand and approached Will with trepidation. His body still glowed blue from the fire, scorched red and black, and his moaning and screaming were torture to her ears. Suddenly, he stopped thrashing. With a finger of fire, he reached toward the sky.

“Loralei,” he rasped. “Loralei.”

Lora folded her hand into Ryan’s, their fingers entwined. Closing her eyes, she tried to ignore the screeching emanating from the broken vestiges of Will’s body.

She knelt down beside him and touched his cheek. The flame did not burn her. “Good-bye,” she whispered to the man who had been her best friend all these years. She received no response from the charred body of the man she used to love.

Taking a deep breath, Lora squeezed Ryan’s hand and whispered to the ocean. What she needed, she could not complete alone: she needed her counterpart’s strength and magic.

Τέλος ο πόνος του. Τέλος πόνο του. Πάρτε τον σπίτι.

   End his pain. End his suffering. Take him home.

The sea’s tide, which had started to retreat, suddenly swelled to a great height, a beautiful violet and gold. She heard the voices of her ancestors, of her family, of her clan who had died, growing stronger until their chanting sounded deafening to her ears.

“I hear it,” Ryan whispered. “I hear them speaking.” His voice echoed his awe, and he squeezed her hand with tight fingers.

The surf rose suddenly, shooting up toward the sky like a steaming geyser. It rose higher and higher until it broke through the heavy layer of clouds, so the sun, which had been hidden away for months, shone down upon the water. Like a powerful waterfall, it crashed down upon the Son of Orpheus who had once been her best friend. The turquoise water covered Will’s body and surrounded him as if he were in a cocoon. She saw the spirits of her mother and father, of Devin, of the Haynesworth family, circle Will’s body in the water. Together, they carried him out to the ocean and pulled him under. His body dissolved until it resembled the surf, nothing more than sea foam.

Lora didn’t know if the ocean would accept his spirit, whose descent into darkness and madness might not be worthy to swim among the other souls.

With a sob, she fell to the sand. Ryan kneeled beside her, holding her as she rocked back and forth, letting the tears flow for all those she had lost.

Several yards away, she heard Nicholas groan. Ryan let her go and ran back to the boy. He pulled out his phone and dialed 911.
The detective will come again,
Lora thought. And maybe not for the last time.

Chapter Twenty-Four

T
here were few certainties left in Lora’s life.

Lora had moved into Devin’s cottage. She couldn’t bear to be in her house without her father there. The police had not found his body and, with Will gone, no one could lead them to it. To her surprise, Detective Stone never pursued charging her in any of the murders. Instead, he’d stared at her with such sadness, almost as if he understood what she’d gone through.

There were three pictures now in her entry way. Her mother, her father, and Devin.

Nicholas had barely survived the stab wound, but had moved into the cottage with Lora and Ryan. Penelope and Linus, no doubt, were curled up next to him at this very moment. All three had become quite attached to one another in the past week.

Will’s body was gone, dragged into the sea by her kin. He and the other Sons of Orpheus had killed her family, who were now nothing more than spirits in the ocean. Even her clan had left, scattered, disbanded, and in hiding.

Today, Lora turned eighteen years old, and felt wiser than she had four months ago. She strolled alone along the beach outside Devin’s cottage, which now belonged to her, listening to the songs of her fallen Clan members. Penelope came bounding out the front door and raced to catch up with her. The dog, blissfully unaware of the sorrow surrounding them, played in the sea foam, searching and digging for crabs in the soft sand.

She’d spent so many years wanting fame, craving recognition for her and her clan. Now, Lora wanted to bring them back together and to defeat those who would try to destroy them. So much had changed in such a short time.

Overcome with emotion, she began to sing.

Ryan emerged from the cottage and joined her, his low baritone blending, harmonizing, with her clear alto. They sang a tribute to the ones they loved who were now a part of the ocean. There could be no gain without loss, and her loss had been great. The Sons of Orpheus had taken so much from her, but had also delivered her soul mate. The man she would be with forever. Although she wanted to hate them, part of her had to be grateful.

The fight hadn’t ended. There were still Sons of Orpheus who needed to be stopped. And she would stop them. With her counterpart and her protector, they would succeed and bring her clan back together.

The ocean joined in their tribute, its melody a beautiful shade of emerald floating in the wind. The ice plant, which had bloomed overnight, surrounded the cottage in beautiful purple blossoms that complimented the song. Hand in hand, Ryan and Lora turned away from the sea and entered the cottage, shutting the door behind them.

Acknowledgments

F
irst and foremost, thank you to my husband, Mike, whose encouragement and incredible patience have been my biggest support through this process, and to my beautiful children, Jillian and Joseph, who are so understanding when mommy needs to write and are always there to tell me I’m doing a great job. I love you all forever and ever.

To my mother, Marsha, a librarian and teacher who taught me the power of the written word and nurtured my love of reading and writing, and to my father, Roger, the bay swimmer, who reminds me that even small accomplishments are still accomplishments, and that he’s proud of me no matter what.

To my sister Diane and brother-in-law Lance. Your dedication to all things inspires me to keep “running.” And to the Harar family, for always cheering me on in my crazy endeavors.

Immense gratitude to everyone at WiDo Publishing, including Allie Maldonado, Summer Ross, Karen Gowen, Shauna Bray, Bruce Gowen and Marny Parkin for making my first publication experience so rich and wonderful. A special thank you to Steven Novak for creating such a stunning cover. You all took a chance on a new author and helped make my greatest dream come true. I am forever grateful.

To my first readers, Bev, Jen, and Deb, who offered constructive criticism without taking away my courage, thank you.

To Brittany, for going on a Pacific Grove scavenger hunt, I owe you big time.

For the CVHS English department (2009–2014). You are my friends and my colleagues, and you are all an inspiration.

To all my students, past and present, who’s love of reading pushed me to improve my own writing, I maintain that you are all my favorites.

To my friends and family who were with me during this process, I love you all.

And to all of my former English teachers, especially Mrs. Burrows, Mrs. Tate, Ms. Tracy, Mrs. Hukari, and Mr. Rapp. All your hard work, creativity, and dedication fueled my love of literature. Never forget the difference you made. Thank you.

About the Author

B
ethany Masone Harar grew up in a family with “gypsy feet” who moved from place to place until eventually settling down in the suburbs of Washington, D.C. Despite all initial objections to the contrary, she became a high school English teacher after acquiring a degree in English from James Madison University and a Master’s in Secondary English Education from Virginia Commonwealth University. As a teacher and writer of young-adult fiction, Bethany is able to connect with the very audience for whom she writes and does her best to turn reluctant readers into voracious, book-reading nerds. She is a member of SCWBI and YALSA, as well as an avid follower of literary-driven social media. You can visit her website at
www.bethanymasoneharar.com
.