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Scourge of the Siren
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Sirens and Sailors 2
Scourge of the Siren
Eban Gal takes his fiancée, Amaranda, to live in his homeland on Westland. Adjusting to a new way of life proves more difficult than she ever imagined. When beautiful Mitzi, an ex-girlfriend of Eban, overhears them speaking about her past, the jealous girl uses the revelation to blackmail Amaranda into leaving her beloved Eban forever. Alone in a strange world, Amaranda gets captured by drug dealer, Taneli Oris, who has been terrifying her with his salacious comments and advances.
Taneli has already exposed her secret to the press, and soon the ancient island of Refrainia is in chaos. Mutilated bodies are found and questions are asked. When Mitzi is rushed into the hospital, following a drug overdose, Eban realizes how much danger Amaranda is in and rushes to find her before it’s too late.
As Taneli forces drugs into her, Amaranda inadvertently sets fire to the boat they are hiding in. Unconscious, with her leg trapped, she has no hope of escape…
Genre: Fairy Tales/Myths, Fantasy, Futuristic
Length: 45,918 words
SCOURGE OF THE SIREN
Sirens and Sailors 2
Bella Settarra
EROTIC ROMANCE
Siren Publishing, Inc.
www.SirenPublishing.com
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A SIREN PUBLISHING BOOK
IMPRINT: Erotic Romance
SCOURGE OF THE SIREN
Copyright © 2014 by Bella Settarra
E-book ISBN: 978-1-62741-162-2
First E-book Publication: January 2014
Cover design by Christine Kirchoff
All art and logo copyright © 2014 by Siren Publishing, Inc.
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED: This literary work may not be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, including electronic or photographic reproduction, in whole or in part, without express written permission.
All characters and events in this book are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead is strictly coincidental.
PUBLISHER
Siren Publishing, Inc.
www.SirenPublishing.com
Letter to Readers
Dear Readers,
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DEDICATION
To my wonderful mum, who will probably never read my work but is proud of me anyway, and my lovely sisters for indulging me in my hours of story-telling. Thank you for all your support.
Table of Contents
Title Page
Copyright Page
Dedication
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
About the Author
SCOURGE OF THE SIREN
Sirens and Sailors 2
BELLA SETTARRA
Copyright © 2014
Chapter 1
Eban’s laptop pinged for the umpteenth time today. Amaranda looked up from the jar of white flowers she was arranging. They had become her favourites since Eban had picked her a bunch on her birthday. She sighed and looked over at the alien object apologetically. It looked most incongruous placed on the rickety old wooden table of her stone hut.
“Sounds important,” Rechavia shouted, clambering down the wooden ladder from her roof. Amaranda met him on the doorstep with a cup of green tea.
“I know, but I still don’t understand how it works,” she said as they both sat down at the table.
Rechavia laughed. “Don’t worry, pretty maid, it all takes time and you’ve only had a few weeks. Some people never get the hang of computers.” He turned the machine round to face him. “Shall I have a go?” he offered, taking a sip of his tea.
“Yes please.” She looked at him helplessly as his long fingers danced competently over the keyboard. His dark, shoulder-length curls looked roguishly haphazard, and his hazel-brown eyes twinkled as he glanced at the screen. Rechavia was a quiet, confident man, a few years older than her twenty-one years, with a deep masculine voice that commanded authority. The chair creaked under his large muscular frame and his long legs stuck out the other side of the small table.
“It’s a Super-Skype message,” he announced, frowning a little. “Someone is trying to contact Eban urgently. Do you want me to answer it?”
Amaranda remembered Eban showing her one of these messages before—you could actually see a moving picture of a person speaking to you, and hear their words as clearly as if they were in the same room! She nodded eagerly and Rechavia pressed a few more keys, moving the screen slightly so they could both see it. A woman with gray hair and a kind expression was peering at them. She looked worried. Amaranda recognised her as Eban’s mother.
“Hello. My name is Rechavia, a friend of Eban. I’m here with Amaranda. Eban is out fishing at the moment, but we can give him a message when he returns if you need us to.” Rechavia spoke easily into the machine.
“Hello, Rechavia, Eban has told me about you. I’m his mom, Jerusha. I’ve been trying to contact Eban with some bad news I’m afraid. Could you and Amaranda explain to him that his dad is very ill? It’s his heart. He’s in hospital, he’s…” She broke off, weeping.
“Oh I’m so sorry, Jerusha,” Amaranda soothed, “of course we will tell him as soon as he gets back. We have already packed up our things and I’m sure he’ll want to come home as soon as we can. Eban just wanted to wait until all the heavy work was completed on the island, but I’m sure Rech and the men can manage without us now.”
/> Rechavia nodded. “No problem,” he concurred. “I’ll have Eban call you as soon as he gets here—in fact, I’ll go see if I can find him right now. Don’t worry, ma’am.”
“Thank you so much.” The old lady started to cry again as Rechavia stood up and closed down the computer.
“I’ll see if the coracle’s free, I know where they were headed.” Rechavia took a last gulp of his tea before setting off.
Amaranda watched him stride down the hill toward the little wooden boat, which was waiting near the rocks. In the couple of months since Poseidon had ruled that Refrainia was to change, the island had become an excited hub of activity. Men and women were busily repairing the little stone huts, and cultivating part of the land. Some of them had even managed to build a couple of small fishing boats and a coracle, using some of the wood salvaged from the many wrecks around the island. Women had been learning how to knit and sew, as their visits to the mainland had taught them the delights of fashion and shown them that it wasn’t always appropriate to wear nothing but bikinis.
She turned back into her neat little hut, which had been her home for several years, ever since she had been old enough to look after herself. Some of the older members of the community, including a couple of the Elders, had looked after her when she was orphaned at a very young age. But she always felt like a burden and couldn’t wait to be able to fend for herself. There were only a few sticks of furniture, a couple of chairs, and the rickety table salvaged from a shipwreck many years ago. Also, there was a cupboard that was now empty. Her bed comprised a block of wood, which was heavily cushioned with elmwood leaves. Her few personal items were already stowed in a hessian bag, along with Eban’s clothes, awaiting their imminent departure from the island. Amaranda had expected a couple more days before they left, but it looked like their plans were about to change.
“Don’t look so glum.” A croaky voice came from the doorway and she looked round to see her friend, Pallas, smiling at her.
“I’m going to miss you so much,” Amaranda said, giving the elderly lady a big hug. Pallas chuckled as she almost fell over. The white-haired old lady gripped her stick tightly. She still wasn’t used to the youngsters’ shows of affection, which seemed to have become the norm since the men had arrived on the island. When it was all women they had hardly ever demonstrated their emotions, there didn’t seem any need. Now everyone seemed to hold hands, hug each other and appeared much more tactile than ever before. It was all very peculiar to the more elderly residents but most of them welcomed it as just another change.
“I shall miss you, too, Amaranda, but don’t forget we’ll be able to keep in touch with this new Super-Skype thingy! I think I’m becoming a bit of a dab-hand at it, even if I do say so myself!”
Amaranda giggled. She shook her head and her dark-brown curls played across her round shoulders. Pallas was what Rechavia and Aitan affectionately referred to as a “game old bird,” willing to have a go at anything. She had always thought that things could be done differently on Refrainia, but had never been able to do anything about it. Now that Eban and the rest of the sailors had insisted on establishing new boundaries with the help of Poseidon, the Sea God, Pallas, along with many of the other islanders, seemed to have acquired a whole new lease of life.
“Aitan and Rechavia are planning to teach everyone on the island how to use it,” Amaranda announced, smiling. “They want us all to be able to contact each other no matter where we go.”
“Well I’m only too happy to be their hamster,” Pallas said proudly.
“I think you mean guinea pig,” Aitan corrected jovially, as the three gorgeous, bronzed men arrived.
“I think I know what I mean.” Pallas giggled, wrinkling up her nose like a little rodent. She winked at Amaranda as they led the men into the little hut. Since Rechavia had traded some of their ship’s supplies for a computer and had it linked to the power-web from the mainland, the islanders had been taught all manner of interesting things. Pallas had especially enjoyed learning about the different animals that lived on Eastland and Westland, Earth’s only two remaining continents. This had opened up a whole new world to them.
Eban wiped his blond, tousled hair from his face as he placed a large bucket of fresh fish outside the doorway on his way in. His dark-blue eyes gleamed as he gave Amaranda a big hug. Rechavia was already firing up the computer while Aitan helped Pallas into a chair.
“You’re back!” Ligia exclaimed as she and Kalliope arrived at the doorway, smiling.
“Hi, darlin’, we just arrived.” Aitan reached the door in two strides and took the beautiful, slender redhead in his arms.
“We saw everyone unloading the boat. Looks like you caught masses!” Ligia smiled proudly at her handsome boyfriend.
“I think we’ll take these pretty maids outside for a while,” Rechavia said, offering his arm to Kalliope as they followed Aitan and Ligia out the doorway.
“Should I wait outside, too?” Pallas offered, as Eban sat at the computer.
“No, you’re fine,” he replied. “Say hi to my mom. Hey, Mom, this is Pallas, a good friend of ours.” He spoke into the machine as his Mom’s face appeared on the screen.
“Nice to meet you, Pallas.” His mom managed a smile to the old lady.
“You, too, dear. I’ll give you some privacy.” Pallas got up and Amaranda helped her outside while Eban and his mom chatted.
Aitan already had a fire going and was preparing to cook the fish with some vegetables. Ligia was helping him, proud of her new culinary skills. Kalliope was in Rechavia’s arms, murmuring softly. Both men had removed their sweaty shirts, displaying their tanned, ripped chests. Pallas sat on a large boulder and sighed.
“Eban’s father is very ill. I think his mom needs us to go to them soon,” Amaranda explained as she sat on the grass at the old lady’s feet.
“You should go,” Rechavia said, as he and Kalliope came over to sit on the ground near them. “We can manage here.”
“Yes, don’t you worry about us, we’ll be fine,” Aitan agreed, flipping over the fish, which hissed as it cooked.
Amaranda gave Pallas a worried look. The old lady seemed to read her mind.
“Don’t you worry about me, dear, I’ve got all this lot to look after me now.” Pallas smiled as she gestured toward the youngsters around her.
“Oh don’t worry, Granny, we’ll look after you all right,” Aitan called over cheekily, waving a fish slice in the air. His sandy-coloured hair looked golden in the evening sunlight.
Pallas laughed. She had become used to Aitan’s mischievous sense of humour over the past couple of months, and actually found it very refreshing.
“Hermandine and Solon are planning to move over to Eastland in the next few days, so things will be much easier here,” Pallas confided to Amaranda.
“I’m glad. They have never liked you being my friend. I know they must have made it difficult for you all these years—and even more so lately,” Amaranda said.
“Oh they don’t worry me,” the old lady replied, smiling. “Everyone knows they’re just a couple of miserable old women, we don’t take any notice of them. They like to think they have the upper hand but we all know different.” She winked at Amaranda, who giggled.
“I never understood why you all put up with them for so long!” Aitan chirped.
“It’s a thing called respect, Aitan. I know you’re not used to it but for some people it’s important, especially in a small community like this one. Poseidon had endorsed Hermandine being put in charge of the island, and the islanders were never going to go against his wishes. These people have a rich heritage and long-lasting traditions, no matter what we think of them.” Rechavia’s authoritative tone was not to be argued with.
“Quite right, Rechavia dear,” Pallas said, nodding. “They might be a couple of miserable old biddies, but they were the miserable old biddies in charge of the island and no one was about to argue with that!”
They all burst out laughi
ng. Pallas had always been very serious when she had been one of the Elders in charge of the island, but since the six old ladies had been relinquished of their responsibility, some of their true personalities had really begun to shine. Amaranda knew she was going to miss her friend terribly.
“We need to leave first thing in the morning,” Eban announced from the doorway. “My father had a heart attack. He’s stable but Mom really needs me there.”
Amaranda stood and put an arm around him. “We’re all packed,” she said.
“You’d best have a hearty dinner tonight then,” Aitan said, dishing up a delicious-smelling meal.
It was a beautiful evening, warm and bright, and they all enjoyed their scrumptious meal outside. Amaranda gazed around at the island, which had changed considerably during the past couple of months. Although she never quite felt that she “fitted in” here, she would be sad to say goodbye to the beautiful flowers, the rocky outlet known as Destiny Rock, and the endless miles of sea all around them. Eastland had always seemed a million miles away from Refrainia when only the Elders were allowed to go there, but since the democratic procedures had been employed all the islanders had had a chance to sail over to it and they realized it wasn’t that far at all. It also showed them how far behind the times they were on their isolated island.
“We’ll leave for Eastland at first light,” Rechavia announced, “I’ve got a buyer lined up for a load of flowers which were being dug up today from the bottom area. He’s willing to pay us in cash so you can take that with you. There should be enough to get you across Eastland and then board a ship to Westland. You’ll be home in a couple of days.”