My Sisters in Death (Siren Suicides, Book 2)

Chapter 7. Lake Union

Imagine being shot from a cannon. That would be me. But it's not just me anymore, not my will and muscles alone. There's water. Water cradles and pushes me up, creating a fountain jet, with my body on top of it. First my head, then my shoulders, and then my torso breaks the surface, rain jacket and jeans sticking to my skin. I sail up. Light, noises, and smells all hit me at once, making me ravenous. At some point I realize that my toes don't touch the lake anymore, yet I keep moving up, perceiving everything in one tenth of the speed of normal time. I'm propelled about ten feet into the air, riding a singular spurt of water. When its force recedes, I pause mid-leap, arms stretched out to my sides like that of a flying bird, legs folded beneath me in a diamond shape, the soles of my feet fully touching. I take a mental snapshot of the view, to remember it later.

My father's boat sits about five feet beneath me. I can't see my father behind the glare, but I sense him staring. Still hovering, in the momentary pause of not moving up anymore and not yet falling, I holler a guttery animal cry, pouring out my dismay for him to hear.

"You!"

My voice expands into a circular sound wave that travels quickly. I feel nearby living souls vanish into hiding, reverberating to my accord, terrified. Fish, crabs, dogs, boaters, drivers, they flinch with the desire to run. Only my father stays put, in his cockpit. I hear his leather-gloved hands grip the steering wheel, and the hinge of his cleanly shaved jaw as is falls open; I imagine his eyes growing large and vacant, perhaps jealous in some way. I hope.

Gravity does its job and I fall, but not before forcing my trajectory forward. His boat's deck is my landing target. As I descend, I continue bellowing, oblivious to anything or anyone in my path. My mouth opens wide in a poisoning agony, spitting a terrible cry all over the lake's basin, echoing off sails and building facades and marina garage walls—any flat surfaces it can find.

"You killed her!"

The Pershing's cockpit glass shimmers at my cry. But I have no effect on my father. His soul is long dead, so the boat doesn't move. It only careens on the waves, wider, harder. The waves are rising. They play with it like it's a dull plastic toy in an enormous bathtub instead of the sleek luxury yacht that it is. There is no wind today; the waves are of my making.

I land on the padded area of the deck with a soft slap, and crouch, my legs spread wide for balance. The large glass pane is the only obstacle between me and my father. Behind me, the mass of the jet spray's water crashes down and over the deck.

"I HATE! YOUR! GUTS!!!"

My cry resonates with the entire body of water. It shakes every molecule, even making wood crack and splinter because of the wood's moisture. Any material that has liquid in it answers me and expands. I can call it to me and break everything in my path.

After taking another breath, I instinctively dive into Let Me Be by Siren Suicides. It's the song I didn't get a chance to finish; I never made it to the end in the Pike Place Fish Market restroom. I'll finish it this time, no matter the cost. I'm going for it. Only one of us will be left alive after this. Only one.

"Why can't you let go of me?

Whispering in my ear,

Pulling on my skin.

Let me be happy, let me be happy.

And I will be, I WILL BE!"

Waves crash against the yacht, in tune with my singing. I take a breath as the wind picks up and a dark cloud rolls overhead, blotting out the sun. The cockpit window grows dark and I can see my father behind it. His face is a mix of awe and disbelief. We stare at each other.