CH59
I walk into Peter’s office the next morning, bracing myself for the reaction I know is coming. Wake’s human form stalks in behind me, looking as grumpy as ever, like a bear just dragged out of hibernation. Peter glances up from his computer, and his face goes pale. He stumbles to his feet, knocking over his desk chair with a clatter that makes Wake snarl in annoyance.
Peter points, his mouth opening and closing before he finally stammers out, "That isn’t who I think it is."
Wake crosses his arms, glaring at Peter with all the grace of a predator sizing up prey. “This is the coward who’s supposed to help us?” he growls, his voice laced with disdain.
“Hey!” I snap, shooting Wake a look. “We talked about this. You promised to behave.”
Wake just grunts, clearly unconvinced. Peter is still gaping at him, his eyes flicking from Wake’s face to his bare feet and back again, like he’s trying to reconcile the siren he knows with the very human-looking guy standing in front of him.
“We need to make this fast,” I say, stepping between the two of them. “So far, no one knows Wake can walk on two legs, and I want to keep it that way.”
Peter finally seems to get his bearings, his eyes scanning Wake from head to toe like he’s trying to absorb every detail. I can see the gears turning in his head, but I shift nervously, knowing how exposed Wake is. He’s standing there in nothing but a pair of scrubs I managed to scrounge up. It’s not exactly stealthy.
Peter blinks, shaking his head slightly as if to clear his thoughts. “Can… can all sirens do this?” he asks, still staring.
Wake snorts, his lip curling into a sardonic smile. “What scientific purpose would it serve if I were the only one?”
Peter’s too stunned to react to the jab, but I can practically see the wheels spinning in his head. Knowing where he’s going with it, I put a hand on his shoulder, bringing him back to reality. “Peter, focus. Marina has been out of the sea for way too long. There’s no telling what that’s done to her.”
Peter’s face falls, the reality of what I’m saying hitting him hard. He nods, swallowing thickly, before pulling himself together. “What’s the game plan?”
“We need to scan Wake down to a molecular level,” I tell him. “We’re trying to isolate the genetic markers that differentiate sirens from humans.”
Peter hesitates, scratching the back of his neck. “That… goes a bit deeper than a blood panel and a physical, Phoebe. We’re talking about something far more advanced.”
I give him a pointed look. “This is Enigma, Peter.”
He sighs, clearly weighing the risks, then nods. “There’s something… but it’s not the most pleasant method.”
I glance at Wake, raising an eyebrow. “You up for this?”
Wake just grunts, his version of “whatever, let’s get it over with.”
Peter leads us to his lab, the sterile scent of antiseptic and metal filling the air as he walks to a storeroom at the back. He wheels out a massive piece of machinery that looks like something out of a sci-fi movie—like a standing MRI machine, but bulkier, more menacing.
“This,” Peter says, patting the side of the machine. “Is a genome mapper. It’s an experimental piece of tech that should do exactly what we need.”
Wake eyes it skeptically, circling around it. “What is it?” he asks, suspicion in his voice.
Peter taps the side of the machine, his voice going a little too excited for comfort. “It uses needles filled with tiny computer sensors. They're used to analyze a person's entire genetic structure. It can map, sequence, and even edit a person’s genetic makeup almost instantly.”
I blink, taken aback. “That’s… amazing. Why doesn’t every hospital have one of these?”
Peter grimaces. “Because the needles are six inches long and go directly into all of your major bones… all at once.”
“Oh.” I mutter, suddenly less impressed.
“Yeah,” Peter says with a wry smile. “It’s the most advanced genetic editing equipment in the world, but it’s not exactly FDA-approved. Mostly because it’s excruciatingly painful for humans.” He glances at Wake. “Luckily, you’re not human.”
I turn to Wake, feeling the tension crackling between us. “We can find another way,” I say, hoping he’ll take the out. “It might take longer, but we can stick to standard testing.”
Wake grunts, already tugging off the scrubs. Peter’s eyes widen, and I can practically see his scientific curiosity warring with his manners as Wake strips down and steps into the machine, naked as the day he was born.
“Get on with it,” Wake says flatly, his tone daring Peter to argue.
Peter snaps into action, his hands flying over the machine’s control panel as it hums to life. “Alright,” Peter warns as the machine’s samplers start whirring, “brace yourself. The needles are about to engage.”
The sound that follows is like nothing I’ve ever heard—sharp, metallic, like knives punching through muscle and bone. Wake makes a low, guttural sound, barely more than a grunt, but I can feel the tension radiating from him. Suddenly, the entire lab begins to tremble, deep vibrations coursing through the floor, making the lights flicker.
“Shit,” Peter curses, his fingers flying over the controls. “If the power goes, he’ll be trapped in there.”
I rush to the machine, pressing my hands against its cool surface. “Wake,” I whisper, trying to soothe him. “I’m right here. You’re okay.”
The rumbling continues, the power threatening to short out. Without thinking, I start singing softly, the notes of the song that binds us together. His mating song. The vibrations in the room ease almost immediately, the lights steadying as Wake calms under my touch, the tension leaving his body.
The machine finishes its cycle with a loud *ding*, and Peter lets out a relieved breath. “We’ve got it. Complete map of his DNA.”
Before he can celebrate, I step forward, surprising both of them. “Good. Now I'm next.”
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