Silent Siren (Climatic Climacteric Book 1) Read online

  Nor paused, noticing Reed’s eyes following the blade he had been absently waving in gesture as he spoke. He gently set it in the sink, gave a small smile, and literally side-stepped toward the living room so he could finally lie down and apply the goddamn piece of meat to his throbbing nose. He slipped on a few peas, spreading his arms for balance. All he’d wanted were peas to alleviate his pain. Instead they were a pain in his—

  A throat clearing shifted Nor’s glare from the insufferable vegetables to the haughty look of amusement on his older brother’s face. Reed took a step into the room, surveying the floor like it was a battlefield littered with bodies. “You seem to have pea’d on the floor.”

  Nor’s scowl deepened at the dumb pun until the skin on his nose pulled and he winced.

  Reed didn’t miss it. He raised a brow and zoomed over, managing to avoid all obstacles, and grabbed Nor’s bicep to hold him still for inspection. “Or maybe the guy you were trying to murder actually won.”

  Nor failed to pull himself out of Reed’s grasp; this was why he was still the student and Reed the trainer.

  “This is bruising.” A little brotherly concern leaked into Reed’s voice, contrasting the previous Shadenfreude.

  Next time, Nor wanted that girl fighting with him.

  “Not broken,” Reed decided, satisfied. Pulling back, he leaned against the island and crossed his arms. “You wanna explain what happened?”

  “Not really.” Nor eyed the couch through the archway.

  “Try again,” Reed said, a little more sharply.

  “I don’t have to tell you everything.” Having been kept off Father’s missions for years as the younger son made it hard not to be testy, even if he was past his teen years.

  Reed’s brows slid toward his hairline. “Well, you should thank fuck I’m not Father. Otherwise, the consequences of whatever cluster-fuck you got into would be the least of your worries. And I’m not talking about this mess.” He jutted his chin to indicate the floor. “I just want to know if there’s something I should be aware of. If not as your protective older brother—” Protective? More like controlling and overbearing. “—at least as the lead on this mission. Is there an issue that might compromise our efforts here?”

  That was actually a valid question. Nor shook his head at the peas.

  “You sure?”

  Nor held eye contact this time so his sincerity was evident. “No, this is unrelated to the mission.”

  Reed’s eyes volleyed back and forth between Nor’s before he nodded once. His brows rose again. “Then what is it related to? And I hope there isn’t actually a body in the freezer.”

  “No human body. And the ones that are in there weren’t my doing.” Nor tossed the meat in his palm. “It was just a misunderstanding.”

  “A misunderstanding,” Reed repeated incredulously. He dropped his arms to clasp the counter on either side of his hips. “Did you by chance ‘misunderstand’ the rejections of some hot chick you decided to pick up while you were supposed to be out scouting and her boyfriend took offense?”

  Nor snorted. “That’s something you would do, not me.”

  “Wrong, there, little brother; I wouldn’t get rejected.”

  He ignored that and carried on. “And I was scouting. I was trying to ask a local I met at the port some questions.”

  “You said this was unrelated to the mission.”

  “It is. I didn’t even get to the questioning part,” Nor mumbled, embarrassed.

  Reed’s head wrenched back in surprise. “What, they took one look at you, decided your ugly mug offended them, and thought the best punishment was to make it even uglier?”

  Nor shifted from foot to foot, watching the vegetables ooze puddles as they warmed. “No. I, uh, ran into a wall.” It wasn’t quite lying to an authority figure. The girl had been completely unyielding, refusing to talk to him. And then she had run. Twice!

  It was a little worrisome for his dating life now that Reed mentioned it, especially on his first trip away from home, into the outside world, even if it was to this podunk town. She probably wouldn’t have run if he’d been Reed. Then again, flirting aside, Reed’s actual dating life had also sort of hit a wall after that last disastrous mission.

  “A wall.” Reed’s flat tone inferred disbelief.

  Nor raised his chin. “Now if you’re done interrogating me...” He waved the meat as a reminder. Semi-frozen now, it flopped, little drips flying off. He got one step before Reed stopped him again.

  “Oi. What about this mess? Barb’s being generous letting us stay here, given that she and Tom retired years ago. We need to be clean guests.”

  “You’re just afraid of her wrath.”

  Reed grinned. “That too.” He shivered comically.

  “I’m sure you’ll have a thrilling time working for her at the diner.”

  “Good point. This kitchen is not part of my job. You clean your own mess up.”

  Nor thunked the steak on the counter and scooped the escapees into a squishy wet pile he then tossed in the bin. He didn’t wait for another comment before swiping up his prize and stalking into the living room. Plopping onto the lounge part of the L-shaped grey suede couch, Nor shut his eyes and dropped the make-shift ice pack on his face. The grunt was both pain from impact and relief at the cold.

  Nor lifted the lower half of the venison so his voice would carry to the kitchen. “Speaking of cleaning up, how did your charm work on the cops?”

  Reed must have followed him, because his voice was close when he answered. “They’re being stubborn,” he grumbled.

  Nor couldn’t help his vengeful grin, sibling rivalry momentarily overshadowing the professional disappointment. Cold liquid that had better not be deer blood began to trickle onto Nor’s shut eyelids. “Hard to interrogate professional interrogators?”

  Reed’s snort filled the small room and a whump indicated he’d also dropped onto the couch. “In my defense, Father never prioritized that part of my training while Jason could just hack the accident report.”

  Sobering silence settled over them like a sheet over a body for a few minutes. It was sickeningly easy to forget the changes they’d been thrust into at the organization. Hell, they’d roped Barb and Tom back into things before Nor and Reed had even shown up with only a day’s warning. And if things didn’t keep fucking up, Lynn and their client would’ve arrived on their doorstep for a short rendezvous in place of Nor and Reed for however long it took them to complete the contract.

  Reed broke the silence. “What about the scouting you insist you did, before walking into a wall?”

  Nor shook his head minutely, trying not to dislodge the steak. “Nothing new,” he added aloud. “I tried to find the river mouth but it seems Tom’s map was printed pre-sea level rise, since there’s definitely no beach between the marina and river now; it’s all jagged cliffs. We’ll have to start at the site and follow the river out to the delta that way.”

  “I was hoping to avoid that, given our limited funds, but I want to get in the water anyway since I couldn’t get my hands on the report to see what they fished out. I’ll call up some rentals for the gear in the morning before my shift, and we’ll check it out this weekend.

  “I’m gonna go for a run. You stay here and ice that before Barb and Tom get home. I don’t need them thinking I haven’t trained you right.” Reed laughed when Nor swung out, his fist passing harmlessly through air and connecting only with the soft pillow of the couch.

  “Lay here, ice my face, and do nothing while you exercise?” Nor lifted his fist again, this time to give a thumbs up. Though, ice wasn’t quite the right term; the meat was starting to go flaccid, drooping onto his cheeks. “Never expected to hear those orders from you.”

  “Don’t get used to it. You’re on double-time tomorrow. Icing just speeds recovery so you won’t miss another day.”

  Nor groaned, not entirely surprised.

  Reed’s chuckle faded as he left. “Maybe tomorrow we’ll wor
k on how to avoid obstacles… like walls.”

  ◆◆◆

  Barb brought dinner home from the diner that night, thankfully leaving Nor’s mess hidden safe in the freezer. Scolding avoided. The four of them sat chewing heartily around the cluttered dining room table. Their place settings were almost walled off like cubicles due to stacks of various saved papers, some actual newspapers, that had been built up for years. Tom insisted the haphazard towers were arranged in some orderly fashion. Clearly he hadn’t gotten rid of the instincts to observe and catalog data, though Barb visibly hated the clutter.

  “So. Did you two encounter anything useful today? Here, have some vegetables.” She spooned a helping of broccoli onto each of their plates, proving she really did know about 5-a-day.

  Unless he counted a wall, in the sense that walls were “useful” for getting him out of training... “Not really,” Nor responded when it became clear Reed wouldn’t answer. Reed didn’t like ‘outsiders’ involved in a mission. That was stupid in this case; Barb and Tom weren’t quite civilians, and they couldn’t be kept completely in the dark while their house was the mission’s home base.

  “You checked the site?”

  “We plan to get in the water Saturday.”

  “I can loan you a boat if needed,” Tom offered thickly, through a mouthful of mashed potatoes.

  “Thank you, we’d appreciate that,” Nor responded, sincerely.

  “What’s the plan tomorrow?” Barb continued to probe.

  “School for me; work for Reed, I assume.” Reed’s new boss nodded confirmation. “We’ll scope out information from the locals. After that...” He shrugged and looked to his leader.

  “Train,” Reed grunted.

  Nor frowned into his food while Tom coughed out a gruff laugh. His brother’s mood had turned sour while he was out running. Too much time alone with his memories, probably.

  “Here, then you’ll need some more protein, then.” Barb added another thick slice of meatloaf to each of their plates. Evidently Father’s diet regimen had stuck with the couple into retirement. It would be surprising if Barb’s Diner didn’t follow it.

  Reed nodded his thanks and continued to shovel food in his mouth.

  “You’re just like your father,” Tom said to Reed, smiling fondly. “I sympathize with you, Nor. I never liked training with him. It was almost a blessing when my injury forced me to retire.” He took a big swig of beer.

  Barb eyed her husband.

  He waved her off with his fork. “Don’t give me that look, woman. We can fight for the environment in other ways. That life was exciting, but we can’t keep up with that now. ”

  A brow raised. “Maybe not you,” she countered.

  Tom grinned. “Don’t give me that face. You love working enough for the both of us.”

  “More that I’d go crazy if I were stuck home with you,” she countered playfully.

  Tom shook his head and chuckled. “You’re crazy already, which is why you stuck yourself with me.”

  She swatted her napkin at him.

  They had always been this way, as long as Nor could remember, bantering with each other back and forth when they came over for the occasional birthday barbecue. Nor had often found himself watching Barb and Tom trying to understand the difference between them and his parents. Father had been a much more blatant contrast to Mother; complements like the moon and sun, dark and light, straight edges and soft curves, a strict rule-abiding enforcer and a loving, easy-going carer.

  “Worked out though, huh? Retiring here meant we were in the perfect place for you two to visit,” Tom included the boys in the conversation.

  “Not really a visit. Nor perfect.” Reed’s tone darkened the atmosphere a bit.

  “No,” Tom agreed, somberly. “Indeed, it is a sad reason you two were sent here. But it is good to see how you’re both holding up.”

  Reed snorted. The conversation became immediately tense, careful, like, well, walking across a floor of frozen peas.

  “It is nice to see you two all grown up,” Barb agreed.

  Reed stopped chewing and finally looked across the table at Barb and Tom. “Nice? It’s never nice when we’re sent somewhere. We’re like grim reapers, just trying to pick up the carnage. This mission is no different. And Nor being here ‘all grown up—’” He dropped his cutlery with a clang to make quotes with his fingers. “—was a result of no one else being available to come. Or should I say alive?”

  Nor flinched.

  “Reed—” Barb tried to break in, her expression pained.

  “I mean what’s the point of being here anyway? We’re too late to save anyone. Again.”

  “Now, son—”

  Reed cut Tom off too, his fists balling on the tablecloth, his jaw clenched hard. “At least this time, it’s not our fault. How’s that for a positive? Oh wait, it is our fault. Because if we’d checked in with our own goddamn team sooner, before they missed the rendezvous with you, we might have prevented two deaths. Oh well. C’est la vie—in this case, mort. Just throw them on the pile of bodies we’ve already lost. As long as you get a ‘visit.’” His heated gesture went too far and a stack of newspapers slid to the floor. Barb flinched.

  Reed stood abruptly, his chair back hitting the cabinet behind him and making the china rattle. Nor couldn’t see his face behind the lamp hanging low over the table, but his hands were tightly clenched at his sides. “I’m going for a run,” he announced, tossing his napkin down on his plate, stepping over the spill and disappearing into the hallway.

  “But—” Nor found his voice.

  “Another run.”

  Nor swallowed the piece of chicken that had been forgotten in his cheek. He started to sink to the floor.

  Tom slowly placed his utensils on the edges of his plate. “Leave it,” Tom said. “I’ll sort them out later. Gives me something to do.”

  Barb drooped in her seat. “Well,” she sighed. She glanced up at Nor. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to infer…”

  Nor held up a hand. “Don’t apologize. I understand what you meant. I am glad to see you both again. It’s just that Reed was hit hard with the… the deaths. Too many were lost.” Not that Nor hadn’t been flattened himself, but for Reed, it had been a double whammy. Tom winced. Everyone had heard about that mission, even those distant in the network.

  “Don’t worry, son.” Tom patted Nor’s hand. “We don’t take it personally. Just don’t like to see him with such paralyzing grief. It’ll torture you if you don’t learn to remove the blame from yourself. It’s a tough job, and you can’t always win. He needs to realize that.” Nor agreed, so he remained silent. “I’ll talk to him when he gets back. I went through a similar time after my final mission, when I lost my partner and almost lost my leg.”

  Barb took Tom’s hand, her mouth twisting with sympathy.

  Nor knew from personal experience, Tom would need more sympathy after trying to talk to Reed. He hoped it worked though. As much as Reed had inherited their father’s traits, he still needed to learn how to copy Father’s ability to build a wall around his personal emotions.

  Nor’s nose had been bruised a time or two from that wall.

  Chapter Three

  Rena woke with a start, her heart pounding. The sheets were twisted around her legs and stuck to her clammy skin, making it hard to shake the feeling of being underwater. Her face was mashed into one end of her pillow, her body curled around the other, arms clutching it to her chest in a strangling embrace.

  Realizing this, Rena quickly loosened her hold and edged back from it across the bed. The pillow flopped lifelessly onto the hardwood floor.

  Not helping.

  She closed her eyes again and took a few deep breaths, the faint breeze from her ceiling fan reassuring her that the cool caress of water had just been in the dream—nightmare.

  Her heart-rate began to slow again and she peeled her lids open, blinking a few times to shed the blur of residual tears that hadn’t absorbed into the p
illow. The dark wood of her window frame came into view. Rena immediately scowled.

  Barnacles. She’d forgotten to shut the window after finishing her essay the previous night, or rather, in the early hours. The sound of waves crashing against the nearby cliffs in the still morning, and the fog horn moaning out a warning to the boats ghosting through the pre-sun haze slithered through the gap.

  Rena stood and quickly tiptoed across the freezing floor. Wearing only an over-sized lobster-festival T-shirt she’d inherited from Grandpa upon moving in, a cool wind danced across her bare thighs, lifting goosebumps. The breeze cut off when she slammed the window shut, maybe a bit harder than was wise given the way the old panes rattled.

  Pulling up the blinds from their half-mast position exposed Grandpa’s back-yard, with a small patch of grass and a tilting shed. She’d insisted on this room when she moved in. It was farthest from the ocean, so she was greeted by the little spires of dark green pines thrusting through the cotton blanket hovering over the ground. The clouds above were equally thick and heavy, a dull grey that matched her mood.

  Keeping the window shut helped remove triggering sounds, but the nightmare still tormented her a few times a week, and that was if she didn’t yield to the pull and spend time at the pier. Fighting it was exhausting. While Rena lived there, her memories—nightmares—would never abate.

  Her wrist stung as her habit dutifully kicked in and pinged the elastic band. She’d replaced it just last night. It left a sharp tingle that kept her mind clear. The last one had snapped while she was reading Moby Dick the day before—hence the frustrating trip to the pier.

  A bright jagged streak connected the distant overhead clouds with the fog below only seconds before a rumble shook the panes of the window.

  Storms were getting more frequent these days. It was a response to the change in climate, scientists said. Karma, Rena believed.

  What had she done to deserve her fate?

  Rena hurried toward the bathroom, the floor creaking, purposely bypassing the mirror over her dresser. She hadn’t really looked in one since the bathroom at the hospital after the accident. Also part of the PTSD, They said. It was easier to feel invisible when she could forget the green hair–like the swim team sported from too much chlorine–that had hung limp like curtains that bracketed overlarge multicolored eyes dominating a pale heart-shaped face. The irises were dark green on the inside and swirled outward like a whirlpool into the lightest turquoise, and her narrow lips had been a pale almost silvery pink... like the drowning man.