Daughter of the Siren Queen - Tricia Levenseller Page 0,31

him. I feel his lips turn into a smile as he continues to kiss me. His lips move to my throat, and I move my hands to his hair.

But instead of the silky locks I’m expecting, I touch loose curls. I open my eyes in a snap and stare at sun-colored hair.

Not Riden.

I’m kissing Tylon.

He’s still busy at the base of my neck when I spot an enormous figure rounding the corner over his shoulder.

“Tylon.” I slap his shoulder.

He pauses long enough to see that it’s my father before adjusting himself, leaning against the wall next to me, and sliding his hand behind my back to rest on my hip. He’s holding me against him as though I belong to him. I loathe it.

Tylon grins. “We took your advice and stopped arguing.”

Not a muscle in my father’s face twitches. “Go stop arguing elsewhere. The tunnels are no place for it.”

I turn away as though I’m embarrassed, but the truth is I can’t stand to look at my father any longer. Not after knowing what he’s done. It’s as if he’s a different person, when in reality I’m only beginning to understand who he really is.

A monster.

“Then we’ll be off,” I finally say. I grab the hand at my hip and pull Tylon in the direction of our ships. It’s the direction Riden went in. The direction my father just came from. He couldn’t have spotted Riden and my mother or else I would have heard a struggle. Oh, but I hope Riden didn’t get himself lost.

And stars forbid my father have plans to visit my mother tonight.

I traverse with Tylon down the tunnel, his arm tucked in mine.

He leans his head against mine and asks, “Where are we going?”

“Your rooms.”

His breathing hitches, and his steps quicken. Meanwhile, my eyes are scanning every turn and bend in the tunnels for Riden, hoping to spot him before Tylon does.

When I do see him, there’s nothing I can do to stop Tylon from noticing, too. Riden leans against the wall, one foot pressed flat against it, his arms crossed casually against his chest.

I open my mouth, unsure of what I’m going to say. Hopefully not what I want to ask him: What did you do with my mother?

“Captain,” Riden says, “have you finished your business?” So composed. So normal.

“Yes. Where is your cargo?”

“Safe. Just waiting for you so we can get it to the ship.”

Tylon looks at Riden closely. “I don’t recognize you.”

“He’s a recent addition,” I explain.

Tylon tugs me. “I don’t really care. We were on our way somewhere important.”

I hope he can’t tell my stomach just turned. “Wait, I forgot I need to speak with my father.”

“You can speak with him tomorrow,” he says, trying to pull me along again.

I force a playful laugh at his insistence. “It can’t wait until then. It’s about the voyage. He’ll want to know right away. It’ll only take a second.”

He doesn’t let me go; instead he stares into my eyes again, as though that will somehow change my mind.

“Go to your rooms,” I say. “I’ll meet you on your ship.”

He leans down to give me one more hearty kiss.

In front of Riden.

But I can’t do it again. I. Just. Can’t.

I reach for my pistol, and just as Tylon is about to press his lips to mine—I bring it down on his head. He’s out before he hits the floor.

“Where is she?” I ask.

“We couldn’t go any farther without getting lost. When I heard someone coming, I set her down so she wouldn’t be spotted. She’s just over here.”

I pull Tylon off the floor and throw him over my shoulder. Riden stares for an extra beat at my strength before leading the way. He makes a couple of turns down the tunnel and stops when we come to some stacked water barrels stored along the edges. He stoops behind them, and when he’s standing again, he has my mother in his arms once more.

Tylon takes her place.

I finally relax, but it’s fleeting. We still have a ways to go before we’re out of here.

“Are you all right?” I ask her.

“Yes. Just weak.”

“Let’s go,” I say to Riden.

We hurry. Every echo, every whisper of wind is enough to make my heart stop. We can’t be found. It doesn’t matter who spots us. We look too conspicuous. Anyone would surely report us to my father. We don’t speak, too fearful of who might hear us.

But either the stars are watching out for us or everyone is well

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