The Siren and the Sea

Prompt: Sirens come in many shapes and sizes. You've perfected the "lost tourist" look.

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Nearly five hundred feet below, the ocean surged against the craggy rocks. It called to me, begging me to come home, but the desire for flesh – human, male, preferably fresh – sang stronger in my mind. I was hungry. And I wasn’t going home without something to…quell that desire. And those Chinese tourists a little ways along the cliff weren’t going to cut it.

As the salty breeze caressed my curls, I spotted him. Adventurous type, dressed for the Irish summer. Clearly on one of those “find yourself” sort of trips. He glanced my way and I noted the hint of interest written in his irises. My features fell into my signature raised eyebrows and parted lips as I peered over the cliff, then around at the grassy plateau around me. I looked from my map, to the signpost up the road, to my map again. And all the while, I pouted, straddling the line between innocence and something I know men can’t resist.

“You all right?”

I glanced up at the sound of his voice, deeper than I imagined it, and rearranged my face into one of surprise. With him standing so close to me, I could smell his sweat and slight hint of arousal. I gave a hopeless sigh.

“I don’t know – maybe? I thought I was here,” I say, pointing to a spot on the map where I know I’m definitely not, “but maybe I’m here?” I add, indicating another location a mile up the coast.

The man laughed lightly and laid a finger on the map.

“We’re here, right in the middle of the Cliffs of Moher.”

“Oh, really? I must’ve gotten turned around – I don’t know how, I thought I knew where I was going. I really need to get back…”

“Well, I could help you out, if you like,” the man suggested, his cheeks turning a delicious pink.

I resisted the urge to eat his face off right then and there.

“Would you? Oh, that would be great,” I replied as I laid a hand on his arm.

Through that slight touch, I felt his pulse jump. When I smiled at him, it leapt again. A pulse, like a wave, but one I could control with a single finger.

“Here, uh, I think we need to go this way.”

He gave a generic nod toward the west, away from the other tourists taking selfies at the cliff edge. I twined my arm around his as he led the way, and before long, we were out of their sight. Just as I’d planned. Hunger surged in my belly, breaking hot and carnal inside me. I was close, so close.

“Oh, the view is so beautiful,” I gushed, tugging him toward the end of the rock.

He resisted a little, but I could smell that he didn’t want to say no to me, especially not when I looked up at him with that gaze that turned men to liquid. Who could deny a damsel in distress? I tilted my head and sighed, leaning into him. His heartbeat was like a bird’s wings fluttering against my cheek.

“Isn’t it lovely?” I murmured.

“Yeah.”

I let my eyes drift up to peer at him through my lashes. The sea sang a beautiful cacophony in my mind as I reached up, hesitating a perfect moment, to stroke his face. He stared down at me with the look I’d come to know as one of surrender, whether he recognized it or not. The man’s tongue darted out to lick his lips, and I could tell that he was mine. I placed my hand on the back of his neck and guided his lips down to meet mine.

The instant our lips touched, I threw the both of us over the edge of the cliff. I swallowed down his shout of surprise as we hurtled through the air. After a long ten seconds, we plunged into the water, the sea singing a triumphant hymn to me, egging me on. My skin rippled and changed from creamy flesh into scales and gills. His eyes widened with horror as he took me in and he tried to push me away, swim away, but silly mortals always underestimated my true strength. As my teeth sharpened and my mouth opened wide, a stream of bubbles issued from his mouth in a scream no one heard.

And then I feasted.