“Stop!” Elisabeth threw as much magic into the word as she was able on short notice and with her depleted trinkets. Cressia came to a halt with water sloshing around her calves, used to obeying her captain’s commands. Mortimer kept walking. She wasn’t sure about saving him; he’d make a great distraction for her to be able to strike at the creature.

  “These two are mine,” she hissed at the siren, dropping a tightly held shield and putting her necromancy on full display. The temperature dropped. Barely visible ghosts appeared around the clearing, the creature’s victims lingering.

  “Come and claim them, then, little witch.” The siren’s voice was as soothing as a lullaby, soft and warm, it was the sound of waves washing ashore on a pebble beach, it was the low gravel of Henry Mortimer’s voice, and the laughter of Cressia on a moonlit night, it was everything good and wholesome and safe that Elisabeth ever wanted. She shook her head, trying to break loose from the spell, crushing another warding charm in her hand to lend her more protection.

  The vibration against her skin lessened. Henry was hip-deep in the water now, and stood transfixed by the sheen of the siren’s scales, the black orbs of its eyes. His posture was too relaxed for a man facing a creature as grotesque as the siren, with its sharp-clawed hands, and its grinning maw filled with shark’s teeth. Elisabeth moved to stand beside Cressia, and while keeping the siren in her peripheral vision, placed a warding necklace around her bodyguard’s neck, mumbling its activation under her breath.

  The other woman blinked slowly, once, twice, three times and then her eyes focused, panic rushing into them as she looked at her captain. Before either woman could speak, the siren lashed out with her powerful tail, knocking their feet out from under them. Elisabeth went into the water hard, inhaling a lungful of muck before she came back to the surface, gasping and coughing. She got up and pulled her sword. She wasn’t sure that Cressia was going to be able to help her fight the siren, and she didn’t want to take her attention from it again to check on her companion. Mortimer was back on his feet as well and moving closer, completely at the magic’s mercy. Elisabeth moved to the left to gain a clear line of sight.

  “Listen, bitch, we can stand here and try to kill each other, or we can strike a bargain,” she spoke quickly, trying to draw its attention away from the two enthralled pirates. The creature screeched and lashed out at her again, but this time, Elisabeth was ready. She lunged toward the tail and slashed down hard with her sword, bringing forth a cloud of dark blood. The siren’s scream turned into a wail of pain. “We can still reach an accord,” she offered, but she wasn’t sure the creature heard her over its wailing.

  “Fuck it,” she mumbled, catching Cressia moving into the water again out of the corner of her eye. It looked like she was flanking the siren. Mortimer still stood transfixed. With a practiced motion, Elisabeth drew the blood off her blade and crushed another charm in her free hand, while muttering an incantation. A shield flickered around the three pirates, grown hazy as it worked to block the siren’s allurement. Henry blinked, shook his head, and looked around, quickly assessing the situation.

  “What the fuck is that?” He asked, finally seeing the siren in its true form.

  “Siren,” Cressia offered from his right, her two swords at the ready now that the spell was fully broken.

  The creature screamed again, rage distorting its voice and face. Elisabeth’s knees buckled beneath the onslaught of raw magic that was directed at her. Pain pierced her ears at the awful sound. The protective spell was shredding under the assault. The other pirates’ eyes began to glaze over again.

  “Damnit,” she growled, pushing back out of the sloshing water. She was starting to get angry.

  “They’re too pretty, pretty, pretty,” the siren cooed, coming closer, reaching a clawed, webbed hand towards Mortimer, who stood only a few feet from it now.

  “Yes, but they’re mine. Back off.” She could see Cressia now, struggling to fight against the enthrallment, blades raised and moving towards the siren, allowing the spell to carry her forward, while staying focused on the weapons. Elisabeth moved further to the left, circling for a better angle. She reached out with her innate power, coolness flowing from her like a river and wrapping around the skeletal remains that littered the pond’s shore. Bones rattled as they came into contact with the necromancer’s power. Slowly, a handful of skeletal figures rose from the muck, clutching rusted weapons. With a nudge, they began to converge on the siren, who was staring at Mortimer with its big black eyes, enamored with the handsome captain. The skeletons would be a distraction at best, Elisabeth knew.

  She took a deep breath, rolled back her shoulders, and before she could think better of it, she licked the creature’s blood off her hand. The taste of copper and swamp filled her mouth, liquid rolling down her chin.

  “Achestim malinge formosa ka,” the words tumbled out of her mouth like rocks, landing in the thrumming clearing with loud pops. A dark mist laced with crimson swirls rose around Elisabeth, a vortex of death magic aimed at just one thing—the siren that stood transfixed by Henry Mortimer. “Anima, anima, anima, ka.” Charms rattled and hummed in her hair and clothing, the second batch to get used up in the span of a week, all of them responding to the rising torrent of the spell. The first skeleton reached the creature and made a weak attempt at slashing at its back. The siren whirled, a strong arm smashing through its attacker. Another reanimated corpse clawed its way up the creature’s tail and was thrown off with a violent thrash.

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  “What are you doing?!” The power of the spell caught its attention. With a loud splash, it tore away from the captain, turning its back to Cressia to advance on Elisabeth, needle sharp teeth bared in a snarl, clawed hands extended. Its tail propelled it forwards and knocked aside two more skeletons without heed.

  “ANIMA KA!” Elisabeth pushed the spell outward with every ounce of will she possessed, drawing deep on the well of necromancy inside her and the charms meant to enhance her power. The red-streaked fog shot toward the creature like a spear. It struck the siren in the chest and enveloped it in a shroud, the malignant energy eating away at scaled skin and dissolving flesh. The creature shrieked and continued forward, mad with pain. Elisabeth lifted her cutlass and braced herself, lowering into a defensive crouch. A moment before the creature was within striking distance, Cressia launched herself onto its back, the tip of a blade protruding from its chest that threw a spurt of heart-blood onto Elisabeth’s face. The spell’s vortex intensified, forcing its way into the wound around the metal, disintegrating the monster from the inside out. The bodyguard rode the body to the ground, bloodied water sloshing in little waves against the shore.

  The siren wailed again, its voice straining. Elisabeth felt the vibration of the sound down into her bones, a final push of magic against her defenses. It still tried to crawl forward, the sword protruding from its back, mouth gaping open and closed with its keening. Cressia stepped off the body, pulling the weapon with her, another gush of blood coming with it. The creature finally collapsed, its voice fading.

  “Monster,” it rasped, its dark gaze on Elisabeth. “Little sister.” Its clawed hand reached out, barely touching the pirate’s leg, and then it fell, splashing softly in the filthy water. The black eyes glazed over and a long, final breath left its body. The spell continued to do its work, dissolving the scaled flesh in a dark, frothy foam. Elisabeth dropped the magic from the skeletons, and at the same moment, she reached out to capture the essence of the siren before it dissipated. Energy swirled around her and then settled into her flesh, the intensity of it brought her to her knees next to the corpse. She stared at the lifeless form, the traceries of death magic etched on skin and scales, on the wounds still seeping dark liquid into the pond. A grim parody of a smile moved over her face and dissipated as she pushed back to her feet, blood and water dripping from her hair.

  “Fuck…what the fuck…” Henry Mortimer’s voice brought her back from the ecstasy of absorbing a powerful creature’s essence. Cressia stood at her side again, weapons sheathed. She wiped her own against her filthy pant-leg and put it back in its place.

  “Eloquently put.”

  “What the fuck was that?” He stared at the body of the creature at Elisabeth’s feet.

  “Siren. Rare to find in a spot like this one. Must have gotten trapped in a storm.” With the battle over, the stench became overpowering to her, all of her senses too sharp. “Let’s get back to the beach. We have a conversation to finish.”

  The two women began to move towards the path, but Mortimer didn’t follow. Elisabeth turned back and saw that he stood motionless, his blue gaze still fixed on the dead creature. She studied him, saw the vacant expression on his face, and knew that the last traces of the siren’s song clung to him like a layer of algae. For a moment, she considered leaving him there to fend for himself, but his words came back to her—a life not bound to the Skeleton King, the leash of his power struck from her neck.

  “Henry.” Names held power, and hearing his own might bring him back from the fugue where he swayed, lost in the tattered remnants of the creature’s pull. “Henry Mortimer.” He still didn’t respond. “Damnit,” she cursed and walked back into the pond, sloshing in hip-deep. She gripped his arm, hard enough to bruise, but got no response. Exasperated, she reached a blood-stained hand toward his face, and forced him to look at her instead of the siren’s corpse. “She’s dead, Henry.” Desire tugged at her now that she stood close to him—his scent intermingled with that of the swamp and the siren stirring her emotions, and the warmth of his flesh under her grimy fingers urging her closer. The remnants of the creature’s magic at work, she told herself, as heat built in her belly. “Henry,” she said again, putting a touch of power into the name. He blinked slowly and something slid out of his eyes, clarity returning in the space of a heartbeat. Recognition filled his face, followed by something hot and dark.

  “You saved me.”

  “I s’pose I did, yes.”

  “Why?” His blue eyes skewered her with their intensity. The answer was important to him.

  Elisabeth smiled a wolf’s smile, still intoxicated from absorbing the siren’s magic. “Why not?” She noticed her hand was still on his face, blood smearing against his tanned skin. She was about to pull it back, when he gripped her wrist and used it to pull her closer. His other hand reached up and tangled in her filthy hair. Déjà vu hit her hard, reminding her of the night on Skull Island, but her body’s reaction to him was stronger here, with the lingering power of a creature that fed on seduction around them still. He kissed her then, heedless of the blood that covered her face. A wave of lust and hunger rose inside her, filling her veins with fire. She couldn’t remember the last time she felt this warm. Her heart raced in her chest, a bird trying to escape its cage.

  “Captain,” Cressia’s voice broke through the desire that threatened to drown her in a deluge. Elisabeth broke away from Mortimer, stumbling backwards in the water.

  “Let’s go,” she said, voice breathy, and made her way back to the shore and the comforting presence of her body guard.

  “Of course,” Henry called after her retreating figure. She didn’t turn back to him, but could feel the smirk that was plastered across his face as she sloshed out of the siren’s resting place.