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Then I moved to her head, slipping my hands into her hair. Careful to not hurt her, I massaged her scalp searching for bumps or swelling. I didn’t find anything other than dried bits of what appeared to be shark skin.
My hand brushed across the scales on her face. She studied my face while I studied hers. I leaned down and inspected them closer. The scales lay tight against her skin, similar to fish scales. Her scales were much thicker though; they must provide protection against some injuries, just not a full-blown shark attack. Soft light began to emanate from the edges of each individual scale. Did she control the glow, or were they a natural response?
“Both,” she said. “Our eyes blink without our conscious thought, but we can also choose to blink or not blink.”
She was listening to my thoughts again. It should have felt invasive, but instead it felt intimate. Moving down, I teased the skin of her neck and shoulders, trying to find any shifting bones or swelling. My relief was growing. She would be okay.
My hands froze and a flush went up my neck. I was struggling to keep my examination impersonal, and I was quickly losing the battle. Taking her arm in my hand, I decided to check it for injuries instead of continuing down her torso. Sliding my hand down her lightly muscled arm, my stomach lurched as the bone in her forearm shifted under slight pressure from my fingers.
“Why didn’t you tell us your arm was broken?” I asked.
“It served no purpose. Our situation would not have improved had you known, and the knowledge likely would have caused additional stress to the four of you.”
As a scientist, I loved and understood her logic. However, as a man who loved her, I was horrified.
“Did you conceal other injuries?” I demanded, trying not to sound too forceful.
Her silence was answer enough. Anger began to simmer inside me. It was irrational, and I knew it, but I couldn’t help it. I hated knowing she was in pain, and I hated that she felt the need to protect us.
My eyes burned and I blinked hard, working to focus back on the exam. I held her slender hand between my own. A flexible piece of webbing draped between each pale finger. The webbing was translucent but had a delicate green lace design etched into it. It was beautiful and functional.
“It is new,” she explained. “My body continues to adapt.”
“You haven’t always been a Siren? And this form can change your features?” I was a man of science and facts, and she was throwing it all out the window.
She didn’t answer right away. I braced her arm to keep it from shifting as it finished healing. After finished with her arms, I began to examine her torso and rib cage. The exam went smoothly until my fingers found the jagged wound between her ribs. Again, I wondered if it was a knife, and if there was internal damage.
“It was a knife. There was internal damage, but I stopped the bleeding.” Her tone was so matter-of-fact.
“What organs were injured?” I asked the question but wasn’t sure I wanted the answer.
She shrugged. “My lung and liver were perforated.”
I gathered her into my arms, holding her against me, careful to not jostle her fluke. Her hand patted me awkwardly; trying to comfort people wasn’t something she did often. She was a lethal predator, designed to kill with cold efficiency, yet she was trying to ease my devastation over how close we had come to losing her, and the pain she endured coming to our aid.
“Who stabbed you, Zosi?”
“A fisherman. I had him beneath the water. Kye’s emotions distracted me, and the man stabbed me.”
My mouth dropped open. I didn’t even know where to begin. I had seen her soft side, and I had tried to push the memory of the victims I had examined to the dark recesses of my mind. Her victims. If I asked her why he was in the ocean, would she tell me the truth? Did I want to hear her say what I already knew in my heart?
“I do not lie,” she said. “I was killing him when I became distracted. The stabbing was a futile effort on his part to escape me. He did not escape. I know my purpose, and I will do what I must to fulfill it. Will you be able to accept me for what I am?”
I couldn’t even begin to decide how to respond to this. Could I? If her existence was found out, would I be willing to go on the run with her? It would mean throwing away the career I had worked so hard for.
Tilting her chin back, I leaned down and kissed her closed lips.
Yes.
