Page 30 of Song of Lorelei
She checked in at the security desk.
There were two guards behind it now instead of the usual one, a cheery, young rookie who never seemed to mind that he’d been given the worst shift. Easily charmed that one was, which is probably why he’d been replaced with more seasoned colleagues—two gruff older men she’d never seen before. Neither were open to her lighthearted, early morning banter. Rather they answered her nervous quip “is it a good morning or a goodnight?” with stone-faced silence. Not even a hint of amusement.
That they were here at all, working the graveyard shift, was likely because of mermaid “kidnapping” employees like her. If she was in their shoes, she would probably be grumpy about that, too.
While one scrutinized her ID, and clicked around on their computer, the other pinned her with a searching stare. “You’re here early.”
“I’m always here early.”
The guard with her ID handed it back. “Not this early. Museum work, is it? How’s that got you here earlier than the brainiacs?”
Before the people who did the real work, he meant. Lorelei frowned, clipping the badge back onto her lapel. She kept her tone level. “Deadlines. The grand opening is coming up in two months, so I’ve got a lot of work to do, and not enough hours in a day.”
Both guards stared her down. Whether they were waiting for her to elaborate and slip up about her true purpose, or break down and tell them some dark secret, she didn’t know. But she wouldn’t be baited by awkward silence and pointed stares. “Are we all set then? Can I go to my office now?”
The guard closest to her nodded slowly. “Yeah, all right. Go on.”
Lorelei dropped by her office only to offload her workbag before heading to the mermaid lab.
There was one guard stationed at the door. That was new. As she approached, he straightened and crossed his arms, fixing an impassive expression to his face. But he didn’t try to block her path. Holding up her ID, she gestured to the scanner on the wall next to him. “Can I just…?”
He nodded and watched her swipe her keycard. The light turned red, not its usual green. She tried again. Same thing. “It worked yesterday,” Lorelei mumbled. Phil must have had her access taken away last night. Looking through the window, Lorelei saw Nireed drifting through the tank, arms across her chest and eyes closed. With just the barest flicks of her tail, she stayed in motion, so water passed through her gills and filtered out oxygen while she slept. It was as automatic to her as it was for humans to breathe while sleeping. Tapping on the window, to get Nireed’s attention in the aquarium just twenty feet away, Lorelei ignored the guard’s commands to step back from the door.
Nireed’s eyes shot open.
Even through a wall of water, two sheets of glass, and a room between them, she heard. But that didn’t surprise Lorelei. The siren’s hearing had to be sharp to survive the dangers of the deep. Lorelei signed, “Are you all right?”
Nodding, Nireed signed back. “Are you?”
Lorelei felt the guard’s firm grasp on her elbow, and signed frantically, trying to brush him off without giving away too much of her supernatural strength. “I’m fine, but they won’t let me in.”
Though Nireed glared at the guard, and snarled, Lorelei saw the worry beneath the siren’s ferocity. She was troubled by this development. Maybe even afraid of what it meant. Lorelei was her only tie to the ocean beyond and to her kin. The only one who had any clue what she’d sacrificed to be here. The only one who understood the rush of gliding through the dark brine of a boundless ocean, propelled by one’s own fins.
Not only was Lorelei the only person Nireed trusted enough to talk to, she was the siren’s last tether to sanity in this sterile place.
The guard puffed out his chest and pushed her away from the door, not by use of force, but by crowding her out with his big, huffy presence. He stood squarely in front of the door now, blocking her view of Nireed. “Ma’am, you need to leave,” he said, and not for the first or second time.
A low hum rumbled at the back of her throat, and the guard’s stance relaxed, his sharp, hawkish stare sliding out of focus. A little more and he’d step away from the door. A lot more and he’d abandon his post altogether. It would be so easy.
All she had to do was sing.
But the melody died in her throat. It wouldn’t be harmless. There wasn’t anything she wouldn’t do to protect the ones she loved, and she’d already proven what great lengths she’d go to protect herself, but needlessly and flippantly taking a person’s will away, just to make things easier on herself, was all sorts of messed up. Carrie had created a dire situation, and Helen had seen too much. But this man didn’t deserve to this puppeteering. Not yet.
A dot of red, winking in and out of the top right corner of her vision, caught her attention.
Shit. That was a close call in another sense. There were security cameras installed everywhere. Either people watched the footage, saw the security guard let her waltz in and fired him, or they put two-and-two together that she was using siren song. She’d lose her job, her anonymity, and Nireed would lose one of her only two advocates. Lorelei would never be allowed to set foot in the research facility again.
Or worse. She would never be allowed to leave it.
Neither outcome was acceptable. For him, or for her. She had to let this go—for now.
Lorelei cleared her throat.
The guard blinked, then snapped back to attention. He pointed down the hallway, his jaw ticking from how hard he clenched it. “Go. Or I will physically remove you.”
Lorelei held up her hands in mock defense. “All right, I’m going.”
She stalked down the hall, contemplating the steep price of freedom.