Page 32 of The Scent of Salt & Sand

Melody didn’t hide her disgust. “That’s disturbing.”

“You’re funnier than I thought you’d be.” Aria laughed and batted Melody’s arm before standing. “You seem really nice, which can make this whole thing that much harder. And I’m guessing it didn’t work out with that guy you brought on board a few weeks ago?” She didn’t wait for an answer. “Too bad. He was cute. And fit. The muscular ones always taste better. Anyway,” she paused and popped an almond in her mouth, “how about I help you out?”

Melody stood. “You’d do that?”

“Of course. Us Sirens have to stick together if we’re ever going to get out of Tartarus and make this our home.” She placed a knife and two limes on a cutting board, and slid it to the open counter space in front of Melody. “Cut these. I’ll help you look, and even make contact, but staring out at them like a hungry tiger isn’t cool.”

Melody did as she was told, although looking around the room while using a knife was a bit complicated and dangerous.

“There, in the blue hat.” Aria leaned over. “You see him?”

Melody scanned the room until her eyes settled on the man. He was short and stocky, with the swollen chest of a bullfrog. “Yeah. Now what?”

“We get his attention. Laugh and hop up and down like you’re really excited. The jumping really gets ’em.” She stuck out her chest. “And as he looks over, make eye contact and smile.”

Melody smiled in preparation.

“But more of a sexy smile. Not one you’d give if someone was about to take your picture.”

Melody tried again.

“Don’t worry. We’ll work on it.”

Melody caught Blue Hat’s eye and smiled coyly, but instantly dropped the cute girl act the second she saw the little boy clutching his fingertips. “He’s a dad,” she muttered to Aria.

“So? They’re all someone’s dad or brother or son or whatever.” She rolled her eyes before pointing out another potential victim. “How about Green Mohawk? I bet that’d be a wild ride.”

Melody looked up in time to see Green Mohawk gently kiss the cheek of a thin young woman with long purple hair. “Looks like that’s his girlfriend.”

Aria put her hands on her hips and cocked her head to the side. “Do you want my help or not?”

“Yes, of course I do.” Melody let out a defeated sigh. “Rhapsody came to my room this morning. She’s mad that this is taking me so long,” she said, purposefully leaving out the rest of the convoluted tale.

“Whoa. Rhapsody’s here?” Aria chewed her bottom lip. “You have to get this done, Melody.”

Melody poked at the lime slices with the tip of the knife. “I know.”

“I don’t think you do.” Aria looked around the room, fear igniting her dark eyes. “Rhapsody will make sure you’re left here. She’s done it before over a lot less.”

“Left here? She can’t do that. It’s not like you need a key to pass through the portal.”

“But do you know how to find it?” Aria asked.

Melody searched her thoughts. She remembered Tartarus, hot pain searing her lungs, that voice, then the surface, the sun. And Dean. She shook her head.

“Exactly. You need a Caretaker, a Siren like Harmony, to find it. Left here without one, you’ll age, dry up, and die in a matter of weeks. But I’ve also heard other things.” She lowered her voice to a barely audible whisper. “Rhapsody has killed some of our sisters herself. She’s dangerous.”

Laughter roared from a group of celebrating tourists. “We shouldn’t be talking about this.” She collected a few empty cups and cleared her throat. “Now, the next guy I choose will be the one. That’s why they say third one’s the charm.”

Aria went back to searching the room, but Melody felt caged by the new information. Rhapsody had already threatened Dean. Would she kill them both if Melody didn’t do as she’d instructed her?

“There we go. And he has red hair, too. You would have the cutest ginger baby.” Aria cheered. “Check him out. He’s at your two o’clock.”

Melody glanced at the digital clock hanging above the tour information booth.

“Not literally two o’clock,” Aria grunted. “Over there.” She pointed to the port-side exit. Leaning against the doorway was the redhead. He fidgeted with his wedding band, twisting it each time his head tilted back with shoulder-shaking laughter.

“But he’s married.”