Dark Water: A Siren Novel Read Online Free PDF Page B

from this room.” I took one step back. And another, and another. “I’m glad you liked it. If you have any other questions or want to make an offer, our realtor, Anne, can help you.”
    In the hallway, I ran. I flew downstairs, weaved through the small crowd exploring the house, and burst onto the back deck. There I paused briefly to catch my breath before hurdling the steps leading to the lawn. I still wanted to see Simon, to talk to him about where we were and where we could go … but after what I’d just done, I didn’t trust myself to speak logically,rationally. Before I said anything else, I needed to calm down and sort out my thoughts.
    I headed for the boathouse. Which was more like a run-down shed but still had a door that closed. The showing had just started, so chances were slim anyone would venture this far down the yard so soon.
    “That makes no sense.”
    “The whole thing was, like, boiling?”
    I slowed down, listened to the hushed, unfamiliar voices. They seemed to be coming from behind the shed.
    “That’s what I heard. The entire lake bubbled and swirled like some crazy whirlpool.”
    The blood slowly drained from my face. I forced my feet to keep moving.
    “But why? How?”
    “No idea why. How is the reason we’re here.”
    Every ounce of energy I’d gained from my exchange with Brian slid toward my belly and slipped away. By the time I rounded the back of the shed and saw the cluster of people gathered around Justine’s and my old red rowboat, I was just lucid enough to make out the next thing one of the guys said.
    “The stranger-than-fiction yet here-in-real-life ladies of the sea. Otherwise known … as sirens.”
    Then I gave in.
    And fell to the ground.

C HAPTER 4
 
    T HE WATER WAS COLD . Bitter. By comparison, Boston Harbor was a warm bath. Normal people wouldn’t venture past their ankles in water like this. The more adventurous, like lifelong, headstrong surfers might—but with the protection of thick wet suits and for short periods of time.
    I was neither normal nor adventurous. Wearing just a swimsuit, I swam and dove, not caring how deep I went or for how long. I paid attention only to my lungs, expanding and releasing; my torso, freezing and warming; my muscles, tightening and lengthening. At first, I gulped water like runners do oxygen after a race, but breathing soon became easier as my body adjusted. It felt so good, so natural, I stayed under until the ocean’s surface began to darken.
    And then I paddled toward the beach, where Mom was waiting for me.
    “Ninety-seven minutes,” she said. “Not that I was keeping track.”
    I smiled, took the towel she held out. “Thanks.”
    “So how was it?” she asked, as we headed for the steps.
    “Great. A little cold, but great.”
    We crossed the yard, stepped onto my bedroom patio.
    “Do you feel better?” she asked.
    It took me a second to respond. I was too distracted by the fire flickering in the iron pit Mom had bought that afternoon, the platters of food on the table, the fleece blankets folded on the new chaise lounge.
    “I feel fine,” I said. “What’s all this?”
    “Just a little welcome present. We’ve all been so busy, we haven’t had a chance to really sit and enjoy everything together.” She motioned to the lounge chair and started fixing a plate.
    “Should I get Dad?”
    She peered across the yard toward the other side of the house. I followed her gaze. Through the glass kitchen walls, I could see him stirring something on the stove.
    “I put him in charge of dessert,” she said. “He’ll join us when he’s done.”
    Her voice was firm so I sat down and pulled the blankets across my lap. I was still warm from my swim but the air was cold. It was only a matter of time before the heat faded and my body temperature lowered.
    Mom handed me a plate, took one for herself, and sat in the chair next to mine.
    “I talked to Anne this afternoon,” she said.
    I dropped my hamburger bun. Reached