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“I don’t know, but I can’t sit idle in the hotel room waiting for another body to show up.”
Fynn and Eason leaned against the railed sides of the small boat. We had moved a little way from shore, hoping we might be able to hear any screams in our vicinity. It was a long shot, but we didn’t have a lot of options at that moment.
Fynn’s phone vibrated, and he checked the notification. “It looks like we got some preliminary reports back on the latest victim. The body showed signs of long-term trauma, but the wounds were old or nearly healed.” He paused and seemed to zoom in on something on his screen. “Huh. That’s odd. There are traces of a toxin in her bloodstream.”
“What type of toxin?” Eason asked. “She ingested something?” He leaned toward Fynn’s phone. He had spent years studying toxins and had a bit of an obsession with them. To my surprise, Fynn angled his phone toward Eason, allowing him to read the report at the same time.
“It’s a neurotoxin called tetrodotoxin, or TTX,” Fynn explained. “The blue-ringed octopus is the only thing with a comparable bite, but the marks don’t match. This venom is no joke—it’s one of the deadliest venoms found in the ocean. If bitten, death would be quick. A victim wouldn’t even realize they needed medical help until it was too late. Not that medical help would save them anyway.” He sounded more fascinated than horrified.
“Did they find traces of the toxins in any of the other victims?” Kye asked the question before I could voice it.
“That’s the odd thing, it’s only in the latest victim,” Fynn replied. “If it weren’t for the distinct and unique bite imprint, I wouldn’t have believed this victim was killed by the same predator.”
Eason leaned back against the rail, crossing his arms and wrinkling his brow. “It almost seems like this girl was killed with mercy. Which is impossible since this is an animal, right?”
“Right…” Fynn elongated the word, his voice trailing off. He pinched his brow and sighed.
“Any idea what we’re looking for?” I asked, but I didn’t expect an answer.
Kye’s laughter broke the quiet of the night. “A mermaid! Not the cute cartoon type of mermaids, but the type that lure sailors to their death.”
Eason smacked Kye on the back of his head, cutting Kye’s laughter off abruptly.
“Ow, man. What was that for?”
“I was trying to knock some sense into you, fool.”
A chill slammed into the boat, and the hair on my neck rose. The night had been hot and humid, without so much as a breeze. I looked to the other guys, but they looked just as confused. Eason and Kye had dropped their easy-going banter and had taken up defensive stances.
I waited for another gust, but it never came. Around us, the night was calm. Unnaturally calm. The water’s surface was still, a perfect glass mirror. Not a single wave broke the illusion.
“There’s something fishy going on,” Kye whispered.
Fynn and I groaned in amused exasperation. Eason gave Kye a playful shove. Unfortunately, it was a bit harder than he had intended. Kye stumbled, losing his footing. Eason grabbed for Kye’s shirt but missed, clutching at thin air instead. Kye tumbled off the back of the boat, his head made a sickening crack against the small platform at the boat’s stern. He hit the water with a crash and sunk below the surface.
Another splash sounded from nearby. My stomach dropped like lead. Whatever made that splash was much larger than a normal fish.
A predator was in the water.
