Author's Notes:

'Song for a Still River' is my contribution to Literotica's Siren's Song Story Event.

Aside from the usual disclaimer below, I'm adding a Content Warning to this story. It contains subject matter that may distress sensitive readers. Consider yourself warned.

First published in 2018, it was given a little polishing on 2024.01.12 for publishing on Amazon and refreshing on Literotica.

All characters engaging in sexual relationships or activities are 18 years old or older.

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Song for a Still River

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Chapter 1

"Speak up, please! I can't hear you!"

Lorelei's lovely dark eyes lifted to see the teacher's annoyed expression at the back of the room. She was standing at the front of the classroom looking out at a sea of faces, and few showed any compassion. Instead, most displayed amusement and delight at her discomfort. To her disappointment, the majority of these were women, though there were a few men in that group as well. Other faces showed raw hunger like she was a piece of meat dangling before their savage jaws.

She shuddered and closed her eyes for a moment to take a deep breath and rein in her imagination.

Start again.

"My name is Lorelei Reichenbach. I was born in Germany. I immigrated to the United States when I was seven. I'm now a US citizen—"

"Yes, yes, thank you, Lori. I'm losing your voice again. You really need to work on your projection. Please take a seat..." the teacher scanned the room quickly and saw an empty desk. "The one behind Mr. Wupper is open," he finished, pointing to the seat.

"Mr. Whopper!" a male voice blurted in amused derision. A burst of giggles erupted, and the cheeks of the heavy-set young man flushed with humiliation.

"Settle down, people!" the teacher grumbled as he moved to the front of the classroom.

Lorelei clutched her books to her chest as she quickly moved from the front to the desk she was offered.

At six-foot-one, she had some difficulty fitting her long legs under the school desk comfortably. As Mr. Wupper had, wedging his considerable girth between the seat back and the desk. She heard a faint squeak, then picked up a foul scent and leaned away from the young man. He had a nervous stomach.

She'd be finding a new desk tomorrow.

She felt eyes watching her, so she glanced around furtively and spotted three ladies on the opposite side of the class watching her. All three were lovely blondes with slim, fit physiques. Two had obviously undergone breast augmentation surgery, while the middle one was more naturally proportioned. The two with the implants had long, wavy honey-blonde tresses, while the natural one had straight ash blonde hair that reached the middle of her back. What she could see of how they dressed and their jewelry indicated they likely came from wealthy families.

For all their beauty, their eyes held no warmth, so Lorelei looked away quickly. She heard an immediate burst of giggles from their direction.

This was Lorelei's third high school in four years, so she was becoming familiar with the trauma of trying to fit in with new environments. Her mother moved them each time she took on a new art director contract. Her skills were in high demand, and she'd been scooped away to join new ad agencies as her awards rolled in and her prestige rose. Unfortunately, this upward mobility in her career resulted in her daughter's life going through upheaval. The last three moves occurred in spring, forcing Lorelei to enter the final semester of classes in a new school as the new girl. Cliques were already formed, and the group dynamics prevented her from bonding with anyone.

Not that she would have chosen to involve herself in their groups. She just didn't relate to what other teens found important. She had the same issue in each school she'd attended. She just... didn't fit in.

This late-in-the-year arrival didn't mean she was ignored. In the two schools previous to this one, she'd received casual invites to hang out with the popular rich kids due to her looks. Her dark brown eyes had heavy lids which sometimes gave the impression she was bored or disinterested. This and her quiet nature attracted the cliques of wealthy, jaded teens. Maybe they saw her as a kindred spirit?

Along with her height and svelte curves, Lorelei had pale, unblemished skin and full lips, which she habitually painted with her favorite blue-black lipstick. She gave her nails the same color treatment. While it gave her a bit of a Goth look, it worked for her and made her happy.

Truth be told, she was a little obsessed with the color blue. She filled her wardrobe with all shades of the color, but her preference leaned towards the darker tones.

Her dark brows were full but softy angled, and she wore her straight dark brown hair loose, letting it hang down to the top of her ass. Her looks drew attention to her, but she never felt comfortable socializing with the other students.

Thinking she might be more comfortable in a public high school, she'd tried to get her mother to allow her to attend one, but the woman insisted on private schools. Best of the best and only the best, she'd asserted. She suspected her mother only wanted this to give herself bragging rights with her colleagues.

Lorelei knew this was only day one in the latest school, but she was already experiencing a difference. If she had to guess, the three ladies giving her the evil-eye were likely members of the school's elite. However, unlike her previous experiences, she hadn't picked up any sign of their intent to invite her in.

Just the opposite, in fact.

Again, she wasn't interested in the invitation, but the difference in attitude was noticeable. She hoped it wouldn't become an issue.

The classroom door suddenly swung open, and a tall, handsome, and muscular young man boldly entered the room with a grin on his lips.

"Mr. Tauber, you're late!" the teacher snapped. "Head down to the office for a late slip."

"Now, Mr. Saale. You know it's just going to create more disruption for the class if I have to make a second grand entrance," the dark-haired hunk said with a charming smile.

Lorelei could see the teacher's jaw muscles clench as he glared at his student with hate in his eyes.

"Take your seat," the man growled out through his teeth.

Nodding happily, the new arrival turned to walk down the second row to the open seat next to the blond trio. Those ladies were all smiles at his approach.

He glanced in her direction, then stopped dead to give her a second look and a delighted smile.

"Who have we here?" he asked smoothly.

"If you'd arrived on time, you'd have heard her introduction. Take your seat. We have to take attendance," the teacher asserted.

Throwing the older man an annoyed look, the student sat next to the middle blond, who was scowling at his interest in Lorelei.

The teacher finally began his roll call.

Lorelei glanced across the room as she felt eyes on her once more. Mr. Tauber was watching her with interest. When he saw she was looking at him, he nodded and mouthed a hello to her. Her eyes immediately caught the suspicion and resentment in the eyes of the three blondes behind him, so she quickly turned her face back to the front of the class. She didn't want any part of that drama.

She tried to ignore the noises coming from the other side of the room, where a quiet argument had erupted.

Soon enough, the bell rang and it was time to get to their first period. She hastily made her way out of the room and headed to Chemistry class.

She jolted in surprise as Mr. Tall, Dark, and Handsome quickly caught up and walked beside her.

"Hi, we never got a chance to be introduced. I'm Dale Tauber." He held out his hand expectantly.

She glanced at the hand and clutched her books to her chest tighter. "Lorelei Reichenbach."

He pulled his hand back with an amused smile. "That's a lovely name! Do your friends call you Lori for short? May I call you Lori?"

Missing the intent of his flirting completely, she frowned. "No. Do your friends call you Da? My name is Lorelei."

With that amused grin still on his face, he raised his hands in surrender. "Lorelei, it is!" He glanced at her chemistry book. "Chemistry is my next class as well. May I walk with you?"

"I think your friends would prefer that you didn't," she said as she began climbing the second-floor stairs.

"My friends... Oh! You mean Emily and the terrible two!" he replied.

Lorelei glanced sidelong at Dale. "Terrible two?" she asked, curious in spite of herself.

"Riley and Lily. The two blondes with the bad boob jobs?" Seeing her comprehension, his smile widened. "Yes, those two. Or four, in this case."

She had to hold her hand over her mouth to contain the snort of amusement.

Dale grinned in delight.

She schooled her expression and gave him a stern look. "These are your friends!"

"And they are very much aware of my opinion on the inferior nature of their... adjustments. Natural is beautiful." He held her eyes when he delivered that line, and she found her cheeks warming with the flattery despite being aware of his agenda. She'd met many similar Romeos during her school career. Sweet words, flirty smiles, and teasing to draw the smiles from her. All with the goal of scoring a kiss, a grope, or more. She'd managed to avoid and deny all attempts. Glancing at Dale's charming smile, she admitted to herself that he was far more attractive than her previous suitors. Still, she wasn't going to be an easy mark, and really, due to the timing, this was a non-starter.

"Back to my point, yes, those friends. I really don't want to create any enemies in my last months of high school. I heard the heated conversation between you in homeroom," she said.

"That? That was just a little disagreement," he said dismissively.

They entered the chemistry classroom, and she saw the lab tables were set up for two students per desk. The blonde trio were already at the tables closest to the door. Emily appeared to be waiting for Dale to take the second chair at her desk while Riley and Lily sat at the desk behind her.

Lorelei walked past, and Dale was following, so she stopped and put a hand on his chest to block him, much to his surprise. She looked into the wide eyes of Emily. "I believe this is yours," she said softly with a nod, then moved to the front of the class to sit at one of the empty desks.

The chemistry teacher approached, and she saw he was an older, white-haired fellow.

"You must be Ms. Reichenbach! Greetings! I'm Mr. Aller. I reviewed your transcript with the Principal and was pleased to see you have excellent grades. In chemistry as well! I think you'll do fine in my class!" He spoke with a soft voice and had a delightful British accent.

"Thank you, sir," she said with a small smile.

"The class now has an odd number of students, so I could add you as a third to an existing group, or you may work independently." He looked at her questioningly.

"Independently would be fine," she said.

He breathed a sigh of relief and, with a nod to her, made his way up onto the podium his desk stood upon.

She knew she was being watched from behind, but she pushed that from her mind. She had grades to maintain and only a few months to go before she'd be free of high school for good.

Chapter 2

Over the next few weeks, Lorelei gradually integrated into the flow of the school. She didn't bond with anyone but hadn't expected to.

After she clearly demonstrated she wasn't after Emily's boyfriend, the blonde's frost thawed, and she'd received a few friendly smiles from the woman in passing. Emily's two friends ignored Lorelei, and she was fine with that.

Dale, however, was proving to be a bit of an issue. He obviously wasn't used to rejection and refused to accept that his attention wasn't welcome. He kept that confident, amused smile on his face each time she rebuffed his attempts to get close, but she was starting to get the impression that it was all a front.

Weekends were Lorelei's salvation from the stresses of school. Unfortunately, this was just replaced with the cold tension of dealing with her mother. Every weekend, Beatrice returned from the city. Due to starting a new job, she was living at her boyfriend's apartment in Manhattan during the week. While it was only an hour's drive to New Canaan, Connecticut, with the crazy hours she was putting in at work, losing two hours a day to a commute was just too much. At least, that was how Beatrice justified it.

Lorelei wasn't thrilled that she was living by herself in the big five-bedroom house her mother insisted on buying in the affluent neighborhood. Beatrice wasn't completely comfortable with her daughter being alone due to her childhood issues, so she made a minimal effort by texting with an occasional call during the week. She hadn't completely abandoned her parenting duties, but Lorelei clearly picked up the impression that it was something she felt she had to do, not something she wanted to do.

It hadn't always been that way. They'd been a happy family... when her father had been alive. Her mother began to gradually pull away from her daughter after the tragedy of his death. Like she wanted to start over with a clean slate. But the change was so gradual Lorelei hadn't truly realized it until her teens.

It was Friday night, and Lorelei made her way to her sanctuary. One of the rooms in their two-story colonial was set up as a painting studio for her. She opened the window all the way to let the fresh air in.

She found painting to be very soothing for her mind and soul. A psychologist she'd spent a considerable amount of time with after her father died had recommended she take up painting as a means to get in touch with any suppressed emotions. The early paintings were rough and tormented, but little by little, she found peace, and her skills grew.

She painted scenics, each incorporating a river, stream, creek, brook, or waterfall. A pond or lake was often included, but the waterways were always the main element. Her unique technique of painting the water in the scenes had been poorly mimicked by others, but they never duplicated the sensation of movement. The impact of this element drew the eye like a magnet.

She'd become so skilled over the years and her art was so compelling, her mother took a few to an art gallery in Manhattan. Impressed by the raw talent, they accepted the paintings on consignment and were thrilled to sell out quickly. The gallery contacted Beatrice and signed a contract with the mother to get first dibs on any future paintings from her daughter. Over the years that relationship had been very profitable for both the gallery and Lorelei's mother. Collectors went into a bidding frenzy each time she delivered a new painting to the gallery.

Her art had an ethereal tranquility, and no two were the same. A renowned art critic once came to one of Lorelei's showings and spent the night standing before a single painting, unable to look away from the gentle tumble of a brook cascading over rocks. For the first time in his career, he joined the bidding and bought the painting, paying a small fortune.

Tonight, Lorelei was going to work on a new piece.

During a post-dinner wander through the neighborhood, she'd discovered a small river hidden in the woods, not too far from the house. She'd spent a few hours sitting on the water's edge, mesmerized by the water. The surface was almost still, but she could sense powerful currents in its depths. She'd desperately wanted to put her feet into the water but couldn't force herself any closer than a foot from its edge due to her inexplicable phobia.

She assumed her aversion was linked to her father's death.

Lorelei didn't understand why flowing water pulled at her soul so strongly. So, she used that desire in her art. The new painting was going to capture the stillness of the small river.

She heard the front door thump closed moments before her mother's voice called out. "Lorelei! I'm home!"

"I'm in the studio," she called back. Her muse was upon her, and she had to begin. The fresh canvas beckoned. She prepared her paints and started with a new brush.

Moments later, her mother stepped into the studio. The elegantly dressed woman walked up and offered her cheek. With the smallest of frowns for the distraction, Lorelei leaned down to kiss the cheek, then turned back to the canvas.

When Lorelei's art took over, her sensitivity to lies and deception heightened, and she had no patience for it. For her, painting was an outlet for the raw truth deep within herself. This left her wide open emotionally and mentally. To protect herself, she lashed out at what she perceived as threats to the truth.

Her mother had shown little compassion or empathy for her during these times and instead insisted her daughter just became an intolerable brat.

It hadn't gone unnoticed by Lorelei that she looked nothing like her mother. While she was tall, dark, and slim with brown eyes, Beatrice was a blue-eyed blonde, five-foot-six, and generously curved. Her mother's face was also square, while hers was oval.

Lorelei shied away from her memories of her father due to the intense trauma she'd gone through when he died. She'd only been five when tragedy struck, leaving her mentally scarred. But she did have some good memories. She remembered his eyes when he'd lean down to kiss her good night as he tucked his little girl in bed. They were always filled with love and had been the most beautiful shade of blue.

While he seemed like a giant in her memories, she recalled once seeing pictures of him with her mother, and they'd been evenly matched. He'd been stocky, maybe an inch taller than his wife, and had sandy blonde hair and a strong, square jaw.

While the superficial color attributes weren't proof on their own, having parents who shared none of their features with her affected her deeply.

Three years earlier, when a Biology class covered genetics and inheritance, it became too much for Lorelei. She and her mother had had an epic blowout. Lorelei had confronted her mother about the extreme differences between her and them. This, to her, was proof that she was adopted! She'd told her it wouldn't affect her love for them, but she needed the truth.

Beatrice had flown into an almost psychotic rage. When she'd calmed, days later, she insisted that Lorelei's father shared many of the same qualities as her, and she just didn't recall clearly because of her trauma. Lorelei was their biological child. End of story.

Soon after, Lorelei discovered her mother had disposed of all of the family photos showing her father. They'd had another blowout over that.

This unresolved argument remained between them from that day onwards and slowly ate away at the trust in their relationship. The introduction of her mother's new boyfriend also became a decisive source of friction between them. Lorelei's isolation grew, and she longed for the independence she'd have once she reached her eighteenth year and graduated high school.

As a New Year baby, she'd met the first of those conditions earlier this year. She'd immediately called the gallery and told them she wanted a new contract in her name, as all future dealings would be with her directly. They were very accommodating as they knew they had a guaranteed money-maker with her. Then she informed her mother that the money for all future paintings she'd create would go into her own bank account.

This assertion of control had the unfortunate side effect of accelerating the growing distance between mother and daughter.

As Beatrice looked around the studio, she crossed her arms. "How many paintings will this be?" she asked quietly and watched Lorelei's hands move in quick, precise movements. She didn't have this talent and envied her daughter for the release it gave her.

"Six- no, seven," Lorelei muttered.

"Have you been taking your pills?" the mother asked.

The paintbrush paused above the canvas. Lorelei turned her full attention to her mother, who was trying to keep her expression neutral. That immediately set her nerves on edge. False expressions. Lies. She took a deep breath and watched her mother's eyes flick in her direction.

"The pills are no longer necessary." She was careful to keep her voice smooth and calm.

"So, you've been sleeping well? The nightmares haven't reoccurred?" The next inevitable question.

"I sleep well enough. No dreams that last longer than waking. Certainly, nothing that required a pill afterward," Lorelei explained slowly.

"Progress then."

Lorelei just nodded to her mother and refocused her attention on the painting, feeling her mind sinking into the creative fugue once more.

A heavy sigh announced more was coming. This pulled the younger woman from her art. Paintbrush hovering, she turned her eyes in her mother's direction.

Beatrice pouted. "If I'd known you were going to be painting this weekend, I would have remained in the city with Peter—"

"Pedo Pete." The automatic response sprung from Lorelei's lips.

Her mother shot her an angry look at the rude name. She believed her daughter overreacted to a simple misunderstanding. There was no way Peter would have made advances on her daughter. And holding a grudge over it for two years was excessively childish!

This was the latest wedge driving them apart.

She huffed. "You know, it wouldn't hurt you to show a little maturity and put this unpleasant situation behind you!"

The paintbrush slipped from fingers made numb by a surge of rage.

"Unpleasant situation? Would it hurt you to put aside your selfish need to protect your boyfriend and, for once, just once, listen to and believe your daughter?!? You don't put sexual abuse behind you!" she snapped.

"He'd never—"

"HE DID! To your flesh and blood?" She held her mother's eye, hoping she might finally slip and tell the truth.

Instead, Beatrice's expression closed up. "Fine. If you're going to act like a spoiled child, I'm not going to waste my weekend listening to your vile lies and accusations. I'm done. I'm going back to the city." She spun on her heels and marched out of the studio.

"Make sure you call Pete on your way back to let him know you're coming. You wouldn't want to surprise him with an underage hooker!" Lorelei screamed, her voice cracking.

She heard the front door slam and, moments later, the screech of tires accelerating the car out of the driveway and down the road.

Lorelei's breath was coming in deep, shuddering gasps as she looked down at the fallen brush. She knelt down to pick it up but instead crumpled to the floor as tears burst from her. These became sobs as she realized she'd been abandoned. Her mother, the woman who'd shown her so much love and nurturing as a child, who'd held her close to help her get through the really bad years, she was choosing a stranger over her. Worse, a man who'd touched her places he shouldn't have while whispering horrible things in her ear.

The loss ripped through her, and she wailed her heartache and loneliness.

She lost track of time as she remained on the floor, grieving her loss, but felt the tears streaming down her cheeks fall away like she was losing little pieces of her soul.

She was only dimly aware of the sounds of deep thumps and heavy footfalls, so she shrieked when a finger gently wiped tears from her cheek.

The hand instantly pulled back, and she frantically wiped at her bleary eyes to see who was crowding around her. She first recognized... a uniform?

"Miss? Are you okay? Are you injured?" the firefighter asked anxiously, roughly wiping his wet finger against his pant leg.

She blinked in surprise as her eyes took in the people beginning to collect in the room.

A loud, rough voice barked from just outside the door. "What the fuck is going on here? Who are you people?"

Lorelei began to recognize some of the faces of the people gathered in the room and in the doorway. Many were neighbors. She didn't recognize the others.

"Can you understand me?" The fireman tried again. She nodded shakily. "Are you injured?" She shook her head. "Did you call 911?" Her eyes widened in surprise as she shook again.

She heard arguing in the hallway then the crowd there began to disperse as a police officer came into view. He was getting them to leave, gently pulling them from the room and pushing them towards the stairs.

Lorelei could see the people leaving were confused and upset. They cast anxious looks back at her as they were made to leave the room.

"Miss, can you tell me your name?" the fireman asked as a paramedic entered the room.

"Who are all these people?" the new arrival asked the cop in exasperation.

"Fuck if I know."

She jumped when she felt her hand touched and saw it was the fireman trying to get her attention. "Lorelei," she whispered.

The man smiled in relief. "I'm Mike. Can you tell me what happened?"

She struggled to understand why everyone was here. She used her sleeves to wipe the tears from her cheeks, then tried to get to her feet. Mike was instantly at her elbow, eager to help her up. She pulled back from him and looked up at him cautiously.

"Hey Mike, I think the young lady can manage on her own," the cop suggested.

"Back off! Can't you see she's hurting?!?" Mike snarled as he spun to face him.

"Easy! No need to get hostile!" the cop said uneasily as the paramedic looked at the fireman's face closely.

"I think he's high."

"She doesn't need you! You can leave! Get out!" Mike spat as he moved between them and Lorelei.

"Yeah, he's tripping out," the paramedic said placing his case down, out of the way.

With a roar, Mike launched himself at the two men. The cop leapt back in surprise, but the paramedic had experience with exactly this kind of behavior. It helped that he also had martial arts training, so he had Mike pinned to the floor in seconds.

"A little help here? Cuffs!" the paramedic grunted as he struggled with the thrashing man. The cop dropped to his knee to slap the restraints on the fireman's wrists. There were angry shouts from the doorway as the fireman's coworkers arrived.

Lorelei was on her feet and backed up to the window in shock. Turning her face from the violence inside, she glanced out the window. Her eyes were drawn to the lovely blue light glowing from the water in the neighbor's large in-ground pool in their backyard. The color was so soothing, but her eyes were frozen by the ugly sight of the body floating face down in the water.

Her mind flashed to a river in Germany...

...a child sitting on a swim raft anchored offshore...

...and her father floating face down in the water between it and the shore as she screamed.

Her eyes rolled up and she was out before she hit the floor.

Chapter 3

Lorelei slowly surfaced, but her brain remained murky. It felt... familiar. She remembered. Her pills. Someone gave her... more than one. Why?

She struggled to clear her mind. She might have moaned.

"She's waking."

That was an unfamiliar voice. She forced her eyes open slowly, and the room swam into focus. She saw a dark-skinned woman with a stethoscope tucked in the pocket of a white coat. A doctor? She was in a hospital?

"Where'm I?" she managed.

"Silver Springs Psychiatric Hospital," the doctor said with a smile.

Then Lorelei saw her mother standing some distance from the bed in the shadows. "Mom?"

She stepped forward stiffly and looked to the doctor. "May I speak to her in private, please."

The doctor watched her carefully and then nodded. "I'll be right outside."

Beatrice focused on the bedsheets when the door closed and wouldn't look her daughter in the eye. Lorelei began to worry. "How'd I ge' here?" she asked. She was having trouble controlling her tongue in her mental haze.

"The Norwalk Hospital called me. You'd fainted in your studio, and the paramedics couldn't wake you. They took you to the hospital. I'm your... emergency contact. I drove back from Manhattan." Her stiff expression looked like it might collapse for a second, but she locked it back into an impassive mask.

"I got a full report from a police officer I met at the hospital who'd been at the house. He informed me that there was quite a scene after I left. He said one of the firemen became deranged for no apparent reason and had to be subdued. The police managed to get the neighbors to leave our house, but they wouldn't leave our property. He said they were quite agitated and couldn't explain why. Something about hearing a sound or a song. He said they weren't clear on what they heard but were all exceptionally sad and anxious."

Lorelei couldn't speak. She couldn't look away from her mother, though the woman had yet to look at her.

"The policeman told me you might have seen Mr. Havel dead in his pool." Her voice cracked with tension. "The poor man had a bad heart. Spent his days working on his roses in his greenhouse. They can't explain why he did it. Again, for no apparent reason, he left his greenhouse, and he... he walked into the pool fully dressed and drowned!" She screamed the last words.

The door opened, and the doctor stepped in. "Mrs. Reichenbach? Why are you yelling?"

Beatrice ignored the doctor and finally turned her eyes to her daughter's. Lorelei gasped at the negative emotions she saw there. Pain, fear, but worst of all, hate warred for control in her mother's expression. "Was that how it was with Michael? Did you sing him a song to lure him to his death? Did you! Did he die just like Mr. Havel?"

The doctor had heard enough and moved to take her arm. Beatrice slapped the woman away with a vicious backhand to the face but never took her eyes from her daughter. The doctor cried out and fell. She looked up at Beatrice in shock and fear, then crawled quickly from the room.

The raging woman stepped back to close the door and then returned to the side of the bed. "How did you know?" she hissed.

Lorelei was in shock and couldn't speak. Her mother had never accused her of killing her father before.

"How did you know she'd be there!" Beatrice yelled louder, hate radiating from her.

"Who?" Lorelei choked out as tears ran down her cheeks.

"THE WHORE!"

Comprehension flashed across Lorelei's face as she recalled her hateful words to her mother before she left. "I didn'—"

"LIAR!" Beatrice grabbed the railing on the bed and shook it. "You knew he'd be with her! You did something to those people. You killed Mr. Havel!"

"I DIDn'!" she tried to cry out in denial, but the fog of the drugs slurred her words.

Her mother rocked back as she heard confirmation. "I knew it!" Her mouth opened and closed in shock. "You took them from me... the men I loved. Any way you could."

"Mom?"

Beatrice jerked as her blue eyes held brown. "You're not mine."

Lorelei sucked in a sharp breath as pain shot through her chest. The truth!

Beatrice had an almost frantic look in her eye. Now that she'd started, it all had to come out.

"I found you when you were just a newborn, naked in the snow next to the Lippe River. We were living in Hamm, Germany. Michael was away, working in the States at the end of a six-month contract." She shook her head, lost in her memories. "I'd just spoken to my doctor. He told me I'd never conceive a child. I was going to throw myself into the river, and there you were. A miracle." Her eyes turned cold. "But you were a curse in disguise! You took Michael from me when I was at my happiest! Now you've taken Peter! You're a witch!"

Lorelei was crying and shaking her head in denial at the vicious words coming from her mother's mouth. She was having a hard time breathing as her chest was so tight. She was beginning to feel lightheaded and prickly.

The door pushed open, and a large man dressed in hospital scrubs entered. The doctor was right behind him. They'd obviously caught at least the end of the mother's confession as they looked at her angrily.

"Mrs. Reichenbach, please come with us," the doctor said sternly.

Beatrice looked at them in confusion. "No! Don't you understand? She's a witch! She's been put in my life to take everyone I love away from me!"

The big man moved towards her but froze when Beatrice yanked a gun from her purse. She waved it at him, and he raised his hands with a calming gesture.

"Put the gun away. You don't want to do this," he said quietly.

Beatrice began to cry. "I just wanted a baby for Michael and me! That's not unreasonable! I didn't deserve this! I don't!" She turned her eyes to Lorelei. "She has to be stopped." Before anyone could move or speak, she swung the barrel to point it at her daughter and squeezed the trigger.

The noise was deafening in the small room, and everyone froze in the moment's shock.

Beatrice's eyes were wide, surprised by her boldness and what she'd just done. The orderly leapt forward to grab the gun now that it wasn't pointed at him. Beatrice surprised him by swinging her arm back as she leaned down and away. The gun went off again, and the orderly grunted as the bullet ripped through the outer edge of his chest, grazing a rib. He crashed into Beatrice, and they went down hard, her head striking the edge of the bed frame on the way down. The gun bounced away as it slipped from her nerveless hand.

The orderly lay there on top of the woman as his own head rang with pain and adrenaline. He finally realized the woman under him was unconscious, so he pushed himself back to his feet and spun back to the door. "Doctor, call—"

She was sitting on the floor, leaning against the wall with her hands pressed to her collarbone. The white jacket was quickly becoming red under her hands. She looked back to him in shock, then her eyes dimmed, and her bloody hands slid down to rest on her lap.

The man called out for help as he knelt beside the doctor and checked for a pulse but found none. He stared at the ragged hole in her chest and the blood saturating her jacket. It didn't seem possible! He stepped back as two other doctors arrived. He winced as his own wound decided it wanted some attention, too. He turned his eyes to the bed and saw the lovely woman slumped back against the pillow next to a bullet hole. If the gun's barrel had been aimed five inches to the right, the bullet would have struck her directly between the eyes.

When he looked back towards the door, he saw the doctor's body was gone. He was still in shock. It all happened so fast. If it wasn't for the obvious evidence of the blood, his pain, and the unconscious woman on the floor, he'd begin to wonder if it had happened at all. He felt someone touching his hand and saw one of the doctors carefully lifting his arm to examine his injury.

That's when he really began to feel it. Reality slammed home. Getting shot sucked!

He looked at the woman on the bed and frowned. Waking up to find out your mother had attempted to murder you was going to hurt in a different way but would likely be no less painful.

Chapter 4

Lorelei spent a month in the hospital. She'd convinced them she no longer needed the pills, but she took sessions with one of their psychologists to work through the trauma of her mother trying to kill her. Dr. Karin Eider was an older woman with greying blonde hair worn up in a bun. Slim and short, she was keenly intelligent, relaxed by nature, and had a quick wit. She'd likely turned heads in her younger days as she still had an elegant beauty. She also had a charming old-world accent and immediately put Lorelei at ease in their first session. The younger woman found herself able to open up to the doctor, releasing her fears and guilt.

By the fourth week of their sessions, Dr. Eider broached the topic of her father. She'd been told that Beatrice blamed Lorelei for his death. She wanted to see if the young woman remembered anything of the day and had any more information about what actually happened.

"Are you comfortable?" she asked, gesturing to the chair, and received a nod and a smile. "Relaxed?" she continued with a smile of her own, and another bright smile was returned. "Good!" They settled in their chairs and watched each other.

"As we discussed, your mother made some pretty outrageous statements on your first night with us." She looked into Lorelei's eyes and saw the pain there. Not the grief she'd first struggled with, so she saw she was making progress.

"Statements based on an event which happened so long ago, when you were only five! Children of that age haven't developed the tools for remembering," she continued. The young woman nodded.

"That said, sometimes memories are retained for specific events. Do you have any memories of that day you are able to share?" she asked gently.

Lorelei frowned as she concentrated on the painful pieces she retained.

"I-I recall my father's voice. Assuring me all would be fine." The doctor nodded. "I remember... water. The feel of its movement?" She frowned as that felt wrong, but she moved on. "There was a platform anchored out in a river. I was on it, and my father was on the shore." A tremor ran through her body.

"What were you feeling just then?" the doctor asked.

Lorelei looked into her eyes. "Fear. I have a phobia of being immersed in water, of drowning. I won't even take a bath. Showers only."

"Ah, this is something I was unaware of. Thank you. Proceed." Dr. Eider said with satisfaction.

The young woman nodded, then shook her head. "The only thing left is a feeling of being terrified, crying, and then... seeing my father dead in the water. Nothing after that."

The doctor nodded and thought about what she'd heard. "I understand you are quite the painter."

This brought a smile of relief to Lorelei's face. A topic she was much happier talking about. "I love painting! It's such a release!"

"I've seen pictures of them, and they are lovely, but pardon my ignorance, there is a seemingly heightened excitement about them that is beyond my understanding," she confessed with a smile to take the sting out of her words.

Lorelei grinned at the doctor's attempt to blunt her insult. "It's quite all right. For some reason, photos of my paintings just don't pick up their... impact. You have to witness one in person. I can't describe it better than that."

"Then I'm eager to witness this!" she said enthusiastically.

"I'll see what I can do," Lorelei responded with a smile and a nod.

The older woman looked out the window at the blue sky with fluffy white clouds. It was a warm day. "Have you wandered the neighborhood yet?" she asked and received a surprised shake of the head. "Then come! We will continue our session outside today. I have something to show you."

They left her office and the building to walk at a comfortable pace down the lane to the main road. They didn't talk. They just enjoyed the warm sun and the fresh breeze.

Traffic was quiet, so they crossed the road, and Lorelei followed the doctor a short distance up the road to another lane. They turned, and she saw a bridge a short distance up the road. She gave the doctor a happy grin.

Soon, they were standing on the bridge, looking down at the water flowing under them. Lorelei immediately felt more at peace.

"You like the river?" the doctor asked.

"Yes," Lorelei sighed.

"When you spotted the bridge, you seemed happy. Was that what you were feeling?"

"Yes, and a little excited. I wanted to run to it," the young woman said with a chuckle.

Eider smiled as she processed that. "So you are happy and excited to be near rivers, yet you fear being in them."

Lorelei glanced over at her and nodded, her smile fading a little.

"You said your father was assuring you that you would be fine. Then, you were on the floating platform. He put you there?" the doctor asked.

Lorelei thought about that. "I've... I've always had the impression that he was trying to help. I know he loved me. I have strong memories, even from that age, of his love for me."

"So perhaps he was attempting to break your phobia. Well-intentioned but not a professional approach, yes?"

She gave the doctor a sad smile and nodded. Then she looked down at the water again and felt herself centering. She looked up and saw the river winding its way through the forested properties. She felt a sudden compulsion to paint.

And that felt right. "Huh."

Dr. Eider glanced at her. "What?"

"I want... no, need to paint," she said urgently.

"What medium do you use?" the doctor asked.

"Oil on canvas."

Dr. Eider frowned exaggeratedly. "And all we have are watercolors on construction paper."

"Ugh!" Lorelei groaned, and they shared a chuckle.

"Maybe you are ready to try picking up your life where it was interrupted?" the doctor suggested gently.

Lorelei looked down at the water and thought of the painting she'd begun. The need to finish it was pulling at her. "Yes, I have unfinished business there."

The doctor mistook her meaning. "It's my understanding that your mother is still being assessed for mental competency before she can stand trial. She won't return to her home for a long time."

Instead of correcting the woman, Lorelei just nodded. "I think it's time for me to go home. Though it no longer feels like home. I'll need to check with the school to see if I can take my exams to complete my year and get my transcript. If they agree, I want to move out when I graduate."

"Where will you go?"

She sighed as she watched the water move under the bridge. She hadn't told anyone this, but it felt like it was time. "Moth—Beatrice told me I wasn't hers. I'd suspected for years, but the night she... tried to kill me, she confessed." The doctor was watching her carefully. "This is probably part of her delusion, but... she told me she found me on the snowy edge of the Lippe River in Hamm, Germany. We moved from there to the States when I was seven."

She frowned as she recalled the refuting evidence. "I've seen my birth certificate. It says I was born a little over eighteen years ago on January first to parents Michael and Beatrice Reichenbach. The form has all the expected government seals and a serial number. It was good enough to get a German passport and to get my US citizenship, so I have to believe it's an official and registered document. How did they get that document if it isn't true? I'd like to do a DNA test, but I can't get a sample of my father's DNA, and Beatrice may not cooperate with me for hers. Even if it proved... part of her story," She scowled. "If she's not my biological mother, my birthmother left me to die in the snow?" She shook her head incredulously. "A couple of years back, when I first came to the conclusion I had to have been adopted, I confronted my mother about it. She became... extremely upset, and we didn't speak for days. During that time, I fantasized about meeting my real biological mother... but now?"

The doctor took Lorelei's hands in hers and looked her in the eye. "It is not a good idea to put much faith into anything your mother said that night. Even if it confirms your suspicions. I'm not her doctor, nor have I reviewed her case in detail, but I feel comfortable stating that the night she discovered her boyfriend's affair, she was not at her best, mentally or emotionally. She'd argued with you before this discovery, so she lashed out at you when she returned from his apartment. You will have to find the truth elsewhere."

Lorelei looked at the older woman's hands holding hers and soon couldn't see them clearly as the tears began to fall. She nodded, then burst into silent sobs. She turned to lean on the railing and felt her tears dripping from her chin into the water below to be carried away by the current.

As their height difference made hugging awkward, Dr. Eider leaned against Lorelei's side with an arm around her back.

Giving what comfort she could.

Chapter 5

Standing in her painting studio in the big house, Lorelei examined the unfinished painting of the still river. Maybe barely started was a better description. She wanted to get back to it, but first, she had to complete a painting that was burning in her mind.

She replaced the canvas on the easel with a fresh one and prepared her paints. She picked up a new brush and began. As her muse guided her hand, her mind replayed the previous night when she returned home. She hadn't left the driveway when the neighbors started arriving. She'd never spoken to most of them, but they all asked how she was doing. They seemed anxious, so she assured them she was better now and shook their hands, thanking them for their concern. That seemed to ease their minds, and each left with a relaxed smile. After the initial surge of visitors, she was able to get into the house and only had to greet a few more visitors who rang her doorbell before they finally left her alone for the night.

The following morning, when she went for a walk after breakfast, she was surprised and pleased to see smiles and waves from the people she'd greeted the night before. The neighborhood felt like a friendlier place. That didn't change her mind about moving out once she confirmed she graduated.

She had no plans to go to college, but she wanted that high school transcript proving she'd completed that level of schooling. She already knew what she wanted as a career. Her art was everything she wanted to do and as it had proven to be financially viable, an artist she would be. She was going to find a studio apartment in New York and paint. That was the extent of her planning. Living in the city where her art was displayed and auctioned, she could finally attend the gallery auctions and showings. She'd be able to add her face to the name.

When she finally returned from her creative fugue, she put the brush down and ran for the washroom. She realized the sunlight was beginning to come in the windows at the back of the house, meaning she'd been painting non-stop for hours. Of course, it had been a month since she'd last picked up a paintbrush, the longest she'd ever gone without since she began painting.

Having relieved the pressure, she walked slowly back to the studio and examined the completed painting. Lorelei smiled in surprise as she hadn't realized she'd added a feature to this one she'd never done before.

There was a small river, again the main element of the painting, and a bridge, but on it, watching the water below, she'd painted a petite woman.

The figure wore a diaphanous green gown that flowed and billowed out behind her, mirroring the river's current. The woman was blonde and wore her hair up in a bun.

While the figure's facial features were minimal, she knew who it was and who the painting was for. The idea made her feel... happy and content. The painting did as well.

She set it aside to dry and moved her unfinished painting back onto the main easel. She stood facing it and realized she was hungry. With another smile, she turned and walked down to the kitchen. The food in the fridge stank, and she realized she'd have to empty and restock it.

Tonight, she was ordering pizza.

While she waited for dinner, she got started on emptying out the fridge. It wasn't typically full, as she was the only one home most of the time. Cleaning it out didn't take long, and she dumped the spoiled food in the bins beside the house. When she went back inside, she heard the doorbell, so she grabbed her wallet and opened the door. The pizza smelled delicious to her suddenly ravenous stomach, so she didn't hear the delivery man's words. She looked up at him when he didn't let go of the box.

"I said hello, Lori," the young man in the restaurant uniform repeated.

She blinked at him as he did look familiar. "Lorelei... Greg... Peene?"

The man smiled and released the box. "You do remember me," he said with a satisfied smile.

She handed him a twenty and indicated he could keep the change, which just widened his smile further. "How are you?"

"Workin' this shit job, but I'll have better work with my uncle next month. What happened to you? One day, you're at school, and then you disappeared. Dale wouldn't shut up about you!"

Then she remembered Greg hung out with Dale. She frowned.

"Health issues—"

"You missed prom and the graduation ceremony. Emily broke up with Dale because of you," Greg interrupted with a frown.

"Because of me? How? I wasn't even there," she argued.

"You must have done something, or Dale wouldn't be so hung up on you!" Greg argued.

Lorelei leaned away from Greg's belligerence. "I told him I wanted nothing to do with him from day one. He continued to be a nuisance, but not once did I even hint at being interested in him. His childish obsession is not my fault nor my problem. He needs to grow up!" she snapped.

Greg gave her a dirty look. "He was right about one thing. You're one cold bitch."

"Get out!" she yelled, and he walked back to his car, flipping her the bird.

She closed and locked the door, steaming with anger.

It took some time before she calmed enough to eat, and the pizza was cold by then. Needing the energy, she forced herself to eat a few slices.

She climbed the stairs to her studio to stand before the easel, but her mind was still too unsettled. Before she could finish painting it, she needed to see the river again.

She locked the house behind her and walked down the road to the spot she'd visited earlier. None of her neighbors were outside to wave and smile at her this time. Truthfully, the normality of that was comforting.

The sun was lower in the sky as she reached the path where she'd climb down into the woods. It would be darker down there but still light enough to see the water.

Just before she stepped off the road, a car with an obnoxiously loud engine raced past. She plugged her ears and quickly stepped down the little path to reach the patch of ground next to the water. Settling down at the edge, she felt the peace of the water's slow pace settle into her bones. It seemed still on the surface, but she knew there was strength in the depths.

She was so in tune with the river she missed the sound of rough footsteps until a fist struck her right temple. Stars exploded across her vision as she crashed to the ground. She lay there stunned as she heard someone growling. She only caught the occasional word as she felt herself being tugged.

"...stuck up bitch!...fucking snotty...not so superior now..."

She suddenly realized her yoga pants and panties were down by her knees, and she began to thrash under the weight of the man.

Another punch hit her on her right cheek, and she moaned from the pain.

She was recovering from the hit when she felt it. Something hot was pressing against her most intimate place. "NO! NO!" she began to scream, then a hand grabbed the back of her head and slammed her face against the hard dirt next to the water's edge. Her lip split, and pain exploded across her face.

A weight dropped onto her back. Suddenly, she felt a stabbing, tearing pain between her legs.

"FUCK! You feel so good!" a rough voice gasped in her ear.

She froze as she recognized Dale's voice. There was a slight slur, and she smelled the alcohol on his hot breath. He was moving jerkily, and each thrust sent new pain through her.

"Stop! Dale, stop!"

He did stop for just a few seconds, then he started again thrusting harder and faster. The pain increased, too. "Are you fucking kidding me? Play hard to get for months then you want me to stop when you finally get what you really wanted and deserve?"

His body was slamming into hers now, and she quickly discovered a new terror. Each impact was sliding her closer to the water. Her face was already over the surface, and he showed no signs of stopping.

"Dale! NO! STOP!" she screamed shrilly.

"SHUT UP!" he hissed at her, grabbing her hair in his fist. This forced her head down as he leaned more heavily on her.

"NO!NO!NO!NO!NO!" she squealed as she slid further out over the water and closer to its surface.

"Fucking cunt, I said QUIET!" Dale growled and forced her face into the water. Her entire body locked up as her head went under. He grunted as she tightened around his cock, and he grinned. "That's better. Fuck, gonna bust my nut!" He felt his release begin, shooting his cum up inside her. He moaned in relief.

When he was done, he released her hair and pushed himself off her body to fall back on his ass in the dirt. He panted from the exertion and watched her... but she didn't move. Reality began to sink through his drunken haze. He stood and pulled up his pants, getting dressed once more.

Still, she didn't move.

"Fuck... Oh fuck."

He began to feel a little sick. He hadn't meant to do it. She'd just teased him for so long. It was her fault!

Her body was half in and half out of the water, and he didn't know what to do.

When his cell rang, he screamed a little, then looked to see who was calling. Greg. Yes! He was the one who told him where she lived! He was already involved, and he owed Dale a favor. A big one. He answered.

"Well? Did you talk to her?" Greg immediately asked when he heard the line open.

"I need you to come here."

"Dude, I'm doing deliveries!"

"I'm not fucking kidding. Remember Jolene Lahn?"

Greg went quiet for a moment. "What about her?" he asked carefully.

"I was your alibi when you had your rough fun with her. You're gonna be mine. Get here now... or the truth comes out!" Dale growled.

"You fucking bastard!" Greg was breathing hard as panic was setting in. "Fine! But you're paying for these three pizzas I'm delivering late. Her house?"

Dale breathed a sigh of relief. "No. Down the road from her place on the main road. Twenty feet ahead of where I parked my car. Down in the woods."

"Shit... okay. I'll be there in three minutes." The line went dead.

Dale looked at Lorelei's body. She seemed a little further in the water than before, but he didn't want to touch her.

An eternity later, he heard a car slowly drive by. It was beginning to get dark in the woods, so he was relieved when he heard Greg cursing as he scrambled down the path to stop next to him.

"OH FUCK!" Greg said in shock.

"Shut it."

"She's DEAD?!?" Greg exclaimed.

"As Jolene would have been after you had your fun with her. Didn't I take care of you and her that night?" Dale reminded him.

"You're a fucking bastard," Greg growled.

"I'm in good company then, aren't I." He finally looked at Lorelei and frowned as she was somehow further out in the water. "Grab her ankle and pull her back before she floats away," he said, grimacing in distaste.

"Shit!" Greg hissed as he squatted down to grip her cold skin as Dale seized her other ankle. They both screamed and jumped back when something in the water pulled her away, down into the deep, dark water.

"WHAT THE FUCK!" Greg yelled.

"Shut the fuck up!" Dale hissed as he scanned the surface in the dim light.

What the fuck was he going to do now?

Chapter 6

As she struggled under Dale's heavy body, Lorelei was experiencing a terror like she'd never felt before. It consumed her with a raging fire, crawling into every cell of her being to shriek in horror. She felt her mind begin to fracture under the internal pressure.

Then he forced her head under the water. That one action made her mind ring like a bell as the internal sound of all those screams reached their crescendo. Before her mind could shatter, a single deep tone rushed to her call. It drowned out all of the individual screams, and she found herself clinging to it to save her sanity. Her body tightened her muscles, and she felt Dale finish inside her. His violation complete, he pushed off, and she felt herself expel what he'd left behind.

In an almost detached way, she knew she was drowning. She was going to die as her father had. She waited for her oxygen-starved lungs to make one last gasp only to fill with water... but it didn't come. Her lungs weren't screaming for air, and she didn't know why. She wasn't breathing. Her mouth was closed, so water wasn't surging into her lungs, and she didn't feel water rushing into her sinuses either. What she did feel was her body begin to tingle gently with some kind of energy... like low current electricity, tickling every cell, like it was keeping her alive.

Her mind began to calm as she listened to the deep tone. It absorbed the shrill voices and left calm in their place. Slowly, her body relaxed as those voices faded away. She drew closer to the source of the deep tone.

Other voices began to reach her through the water as she needed to hear these things. It was Dale... and Greg. They were speaking of the bad things they'd done in the past. And the bad thing they were doing now. When Dale spoke of touching her again, she desperately reached for the source of the deep tone, and it immediately responded by pulling her to it, deep into the river.

The current was stronger down here but she floated motionless, surrounded by a presence. As she reached for its strength, she knew the source.

It was the river itself.

Less than a sentience but more than the sum of its parts, it was ancient yet ever-changing.

It had no agenda. It had no history or grievances. It was firmly in the now and stronger for it.

She felt a gentle pressure on her lip, and the tear was healed, but it made no move to heal the internal damage Dale had done.

While she enjoyed its calm strength, it also seemed attracted to something in her. There was an almost eager affinity.

She felt herself communicating with the presence, though it had no voice. She felt its need to assist her as if they were bound, soul to soul. She had but to ask.

Her mind flashed back to Dale's rape, and a cold hate coursed through her. She felt that pressure build until she thought her mind might fracture after all. But the river would not allow her to come to harm in its embrace. It soothed her to ease the pressure below the dangerous levels she was reaching, but her desire remained. "Revenge!" she seethed.

"Sing for them. Sing your heart's desire. It's time for you to wake, my Lorelei."

She wasn't sure who'd spoken. It seemed to come from the darkness all around her. It sounded ancient and cold, and she instinctively knew it wasn't the river as she felt its presence pull away momentarily. Still, the message was clear. She had a purpose, and she knew what she desired. It burned in her heart.

She looked up, and the water lifted her up slowly until she surfaced in the middle of the river. She stopped as the water dropped below her chin. In the dim light, she could see the two men arguing on the riverbank.

As the voice suggested, it was time for their song. She reached deep within herself, where instinct transcends knowledge. She bound the power of her emotions with the strength of her will.

Beginning sweetly, she willed calm and peace into the melody. Their heads turned in her direction as their words choked off.

The river slowly lifted her higher until she stood upon its surface. Dale and Greg stood trembling on the shore, mouths open and glassy-eyed as they watched her step closer across the river surface.

While Lorelei wasn't religious by any stretch of the imagination, she recognized these men's lives were saturated with the worst kinds of sin. As they listened with absolute attention, she sang to them how they would balance that scale.

A song of penance.

Chapter 7

The doorbell rang as morning sun poured through the windows next to the front door. It looked like a beautiful morning. Lorelei opened it to see two police officers standing there. She looked curiously at them. "Good morning."

"Good morning. Are you Lorelei Reichenbach?" one asked.

She nodded.

"Do you know a Greg Peene and a Dale Tauber?"

She frowned. "Yes. I met both of them when I moved here to attend the spring semester of high school. Also, Greg delivered a pizza here last night. He was a real jerk when he was here, too."

The two cops shared a look. "In what way?"

"He told me Dale was obsessed with me and that it was my fault. I informed him I told Dale I wanted nothing to do with him from day one, but Dale refused to accept that. It was like he couldn't conceive of someone not being interested! Then Greg tells me it's my fault?" She shook her head in disgust. "Creeps."

The officers were trading looks again.

"What?" she asked.

"May I ask you where you were last night between eight-thirty and eleven PM?" one asked.

She blinked at him. "I was here. Painting. It's what I do. Would you like to see them?" She gave them a brilliant smile, and they nodded with stiff smiles of their own. She made her way upstairs to the studio.

When they walked in, the officers slowed to a stop as they looked around the room in shock. There had to be at least ten completed paintings.

"Careful, the paint is still wet. I've been going since dinner last night. I had such a burst of creativity!"

The two officers moved from painting to painting, mesmerized by the impression of movement in the water scenes.

"Geezus, I like this one!" one of them said, standing before the painting of the bridge and the woman in the green gown.

"Phil. Come see this," the other officer said carefully as he stood before a large painting of a river winding through the woods at dusk. The painting was mostly tones of blue and black with dark green foliage and brilliant white stars visible through the branches. This time, however, the water didn't give the impression of movement. Depth and stillness were apparent, but something in the gentle swirls of the brushstrokes over the black water gave a sensation of... power. The hair on the back of his neck stood on end, and he couldn't tear his eyes from the dark water. Something there, waiting...

When Phil was standing next to his partner, he grunted in surprise. "Holy shit, Don! Isn't that—"

"Yes," Don affirmed as he jolted from his paralysis, tearing his eyes from the painting to turn to Lorelei. "Where did you see this?"

"A little over a month ago, I stumbled upon this magical little clearing in the forest a short walk from here. It was so still and quiet I knew I had to paint it," she explained and sighed gently.

Don leaned closer. "The paint still seems wet on this one, too."

She nodded and pointed to the smaller canvas leaning up against the wall with the beginnings of the scene on it. "That was my first attempt when I first found the spot. Last night, I realized the canvas I used was much too small to capture the beauty. So I started again on a bigger one." She looked at it and smiled to herself. "I think it's my best work so far." She began to hum softly as she moved amongst her paintings.

When she reached the studio's door, she saw the two officers were attentively following her, so she walked back down to the vestibule by the front door. "Was there a reason you came to visit me this morning?" she asked carefully.

Phil looked flustered and glanced at his partner, who frowned and answered. "Last night, there was a murder-suicide in the clearing shown in that larger painting of yours."

"What?!?" Lorelei gasped.

Phil picked up the tale, eager to assure the upset woman. "In a cellphone video recording found at the scene, Mr. Tauber was shown beaten bloody with his hands tied behind his back. He confesses in the video that he planned to rape and murder you. Mr. Peene then stated that Mr. Tauber was going to blackmail him into assisting with your murder. Mr. Peene confessed to raping another woman, a Jolene Lahn." Glancing at his partner in discomfort, Phil got a nod from him to continue. "In the video... I've never seen anything like it. Mr. Peene sodomized Mr. Tauber as he drowned him face down in the river. When that was done, he drowned himself. He thrashed like he was trying to stop, but his head never lifted above the water's surface... like it was being held down." The officer's face held a haunted expression.

Lorelei stared at them in shock. "That's... horrifying! And this happened just down the road?"

Both officers nodded, anxious concern plain on their faces.

"I can't believe I came so close to being murdered!" she gasped.

Phil leaned a little closer, needing to make her feel better. "The threat has passed. Crisis averted. All's well that ends—"

"Phil!" Don blurted to stop his partner.

"Sorry," the officer said as his face heated up.

"I'm... exhausted, and I-I think I might have a little cry if you're done here," Lorelei said quietly.

"Is there anyone we can call for you?" Don asked gently.

"No... thank you. There's no one."

Both officers looked sad, so she shook their hands and gave them a small smile. She paused, then gave each a kiss on the cheek as she ushered them out. They were looking much more at peace once she closed the door. She locked the door and leaned back against it as she shuddered from the ache she'd been hiding. When she felt ready, she walked stiffly up the stairs, wincing from the pain Dale left her the night before. Thankfully, her makeup covered her facial bruising sufficiently.

Last night, after she'd sung the men their song of... atonement, she'd thanked the river for coming to her rescue. She'd asked for its assistance again to help the men complete the task she'd left for them. Then she'd returned to her house via the woods.

Once inside, she flashed back to the horror of Dale's rape and had a little breakdown. She'd raced upstairs to jump into the shower, fully dressed. She stripped and scrubbed under the hot spray until her skin said enough!

As soon as she thought she'd found her equilibrium again, she sank to the floor of the shower to curl up in a ball. She sobbed quietly as, from what she'd done at the river tonight, she now knew her father's death was her fault. She'd pulled him into the river with the pitiful crying of a child. Just like she'd compelled Mr. Havel to shuffle straight from his greenhouse towards her window and into his pool. The dots finally connected for her, and it painted a terrible picture. While she knew her five-year-old self hadn't intended her father harm, the fact of it now ripped her heart in two.

After a time, she finally managed to drag herself out of the shower and fought back the tears. Numb, she sat staring at the wall until something inside her mind fought back against self-pity and lethargy.

Her muse awoke. It was sick of her moping, and it wanted action!

Her creativity was exploding and she immediately began work on the large piece. Her emotions were raw and intense, and she channeled that into her work. Once she'd finished, she felt calmer and moved to a second, then a third. Each painting became the outlet for the volatile emotions pouring from her.

By morning, she'd completed eight additional paintings and was suffering from mental exhaustion. Still, she knew what was likely to come next, so she prepared for the inevitable arrival of the police.

Now that they'd come and gone, she called the school to reschedule her appointment. While she spoke to the secretary, she tearfully leaked the story the police gave her about her brush with rape and murder. The story would spread quickly.

Now, though, she would sleep. Tomorrow, she would begin making plans for the rest of her life. She still had so many questions.

Top of her list was determining what happened to her in that river last night.

She wondered if she would have to return to Germany to find the answers.

It was all too much. She climbed onto her bed and cried herself to sleep.

Chapter 8

Peter Moselle smiled at the tall and slim redhead walking next to him. He could see it in her eyes. The excitement. The nervousness. The innocence. She claimed to be twenty-one but couldn't have reached eighteen yet.

Valentine's Day was always a perfect day for hunting. He was handsome, fit, and wealthy, so he never had to hunt for long. The sweet young things seemed to throw themselves at him. Who was he to deny them a fun night? Fun for him, at least.

He was bringing his latest toy back to his apartment as the hotels were outrageously overpriced on V-Day. He'd parked his Jaguar in the basement, and they made their way to the elevator.

He was grateful he no longer had to schedule his fun time around Beatrice. She was locked away in the looney bin upstate, and he wouldn't be seeing her any longer. He'd ejected all elements of her life from his apartment except for a single framed photo of the one who got away.

Lorelei.

She would have been a spectacular fuck, but she was just too much of a prissy bitch. That didn't stop her from being his latest obsession, hence the tall, slim girl at his side. While the photo made for good fantasy material when real girls weren't available, he'd far rather fuck a tight pussy than his hand.

The elevator arrived, and he guided her inside with a hand on her lower back. He felt her trembling and let himself smile in anticipation. She was roughly the same body shape as Lorelei. He was going to enjoy taking her innocence.

He pressed the button for the penthouse, and the girl giggled with wide eyes, impressed. They rose two floors and stopped at the lobby. He shot a glance at the door in annoyance as it opened. A woman in a black hooded cloak stood in the doorway. She wore long black leather gloves on her hands and black leather boots. All he saw of her face in the shadow of the hood was the hint of darkly painted lips. She was... singing? It was a lovely melody...

"Gary, please assist the young lady with a taxi home."

The lobby's security guard stepped into the car, collected the dazed redhead, and guided her out. As she passed, the hooded woman leaned in and whispered something in her ear. The young girl looked back at Peter in fear and rushed away with the guard.

The woman stepped into the car, and the door closed, continuing on its journey to the top. Peter knew he should be upset that his prey had been taken from him, but the music was so lovely that he just wanted to listen. She was humming now, and he wanted more.

The door opened, and the woman stepped out. He followed, and she gestured for him to lead. His excitement grew. He rushed to his apartment and opened the door. She walked into his domain, and he felt his cock harden in anticipation. She paused to remove her cloak and hung it on a hook by the front door as she walked further into the room. She'd left her gloves and boots on. He still hadn't seen her face, but she was tall and had elegant curves. He was almost painfully erect as he watched her slowly prowl into his living room. He wanted to touch the lovely long hair. He wanted to take a tight grip and force her head to turn so he could see her face, but the song... the tone changed, and he suddenly felt weak and powerless in its embrace. He began to get nervous, and his smile dimmed as his erection shrank quickly.

The woman's humming changed once more, and a cold sweat broke out on his body. He needed to get out of his clothes.

He frantically stripped himself bare in the middle of his living room and stood there gasping for breath, chills running down his spine. He was confused. How did his perfect night become... this?

When the woman finally turned to face him, he cried out a hoarse squeak in his excitement. Her! It was Lorelei! A little older than she'd been when he tried to make her his but still stunningly beautiful. He opened his mouth to tell her how much he wanted her, how good it would be, but she shook her head, and the words died in his mouth. She walked around and inspected his home. She disappeared into his bedroom, and he tried desperately to follow, but his muscles wouldn't obey him. He heard footsteps, fast ones, and something smashed into his face. He tried to scream as the glass cut his face badly, but he could only make choking noises.

When he finally opened his eyes, he saw Lorelei holding the photo of herself, the frame and glass in pieces on the floor.

Finally, she spoke as she looked at the picture with a sad smile.

"I was so innocent then. You wanted to take that away and... I guess, in a way, you did."

She moved to sit on his couch, crossing her long legs gracefully. He wanted to touch her, but he was still frozen in place.

Her expression became weary. "Bring me all the hidden cameras and your recordings."

He rushed to the mantle and picked up a recorder disguised as a book. He dropped it on the coffee table on his way to the bedroom to get the one on a shelf facing the bed. He opened a bureau drawer and plucked out a small case filled with memory cards. Lastly, he ducked into the master bathroom to grab the camera disguised as an ornamental candle. He had this one directed at the shower stall. Returning to the living room, he placed the two recorders next to the false book camera and the card case beside them. He stepped back at her gesture. She leaned forward and plucked the memory cards from the cameras. These went into the pocket of her tight black jeans as they might contain video of her. She opened the small case and saw how many recordings he had. Her stomach turned and cramped as each represented a victim. Sitting back, she left the case open on the coffee table and gave him a disgusted look.

"I had dreams of meeting a nice young man. Someone I could share my life with. Maybe he's still out there. Except... my life's just gotten much more complicated." Expressions of frustration and sadness flashed across her face and were quickly gone. "I'm not who I thought I was. I mean, I've doubted for some time that I was the daughter of Michael and Beatrice Reichenbach, but... I never suspected the truth. How could I? How could I have known what I was... what I can do..." She looked out the window.

Peter wasn't sure what she meant, but it made him very nervous. He managed to make a choking noise and drew her attention.

"Oh, you have something to say? What makes you think I'd be interested in anything from you?" She looked away in disgust and spotted a photo of the man in Paris. "They say travel expands your perspective and how you think of your fellow man." She snorted suddenly and covered her mouth with a hand to contain the hysterical laughter that threatened to escape. She forced herself to get control once more. She sighed.

"I just returned from Germany, where I searched for details on my real parents. Seems I asked the wrong question to the wrong person as he tried to kill me. So, I had a nice little chat with him instead, just like we're having. He was most informative. Unlike you, he had something to say I needed to hear."

Lorelei suddenly stood and walked to the sliding door leading to the balcony. She stepped outside and took some deep breaths. Then she looked down. They were quite a distance up. She turned and walked back inside to pace for a bit. She stopped directly before him. She looked deeply into his eyes as if searching for something.

"Do you know what he told me? He said I wasn't human. He said my kind were extinct and I shouldn't exist anymore. He said I was too dangerous to be allowed to live. He told me he was going to tell his people about me, and they would hunt me down and kill me." She pouted, and her eyes showed her inner conflict as she recalled the moment. "I was a little upset about that last part. It's probably why I killed him."

Peter's eyes were wide with fear. Tears were beginning to run down his cheeks, and he made little whimpering sounds.

She gently touched his lips with a gloved finger and sang to him sweetly. His mind calmed as his will faded into the background.

She stepped back from him and walked around the room. She examined the kitchen and nodded to herself. Returning to stand before him, she nodded again. "I like this place. I think it will do fine. I suppose I'll need to speak to building management." She turned her attention to the man gently swaying on his feet.

"Too many young women have lost their innocence to you. That stops tonight. I want you to do something for me." She leaned close and sang softly in his ear. A look of ecstasy blossomed across his face as he trembled. She gave him a gentle smile and patted his shoulder as she leaned in again. "I know you can do it! I have faith in you!"

Lorelei walked back to the front door and donned her cloak once more. She let herself out and took the elevator back to the lobby. She stopped by the security desk to speak with Gary once more. He'd done an excellent job of deleting the security camera recordings of her arrival, and the cameras were still down. As an extra precaution, his memories would be of an older male technician from the building's security service once she left. This was Gary's penance for assisting Peter with ejecting the occasional broken young women from the building when the monster was finished with them.

A terrific crash sounded behind her on the other side of the lobby. A large section of the glass awning next to the outdoor pool exploded as Peter's naked body struck it at terminal velocity.

Six feet short of the pool.

It seems her faith in him had been misplaced.

Gary ran to see what happened as Lorelei calmly left the lobby to head back to her hotel. She needed to get some sleep. She'd chosen the old hotel for its reasonable price, cleanliness, old-world charm, and complete lack of security cameras.

Her alibi was already there, fast asleep. Though the lovely blond had been surprised by her capacity to be with and please another woman, Emily Hunte had proven to be a sweet and giving lover.

Lorelei wasn't ready to be with a man after her trauma with Dale, but with her return from Germany and the ordeal she'd experienced there, she'd been feeling terribly lonely. While she now knew she wasn't human and was potentially the only one of her kind, she needed the closeness and tenderness of human contact.

She still had moments when the guilt and despair of being the cause of her father's death snuck up and slapped her mental equilibrium askew. She was dealing with that as best she could on her own. She certainly couldn't speak to a psychologist about it.

Emily had visited the house shortly after Lorelei returned to the States. She'd dropped by to express how sorry she was that Dale had planned to do those awful things to her. Surprised and touched, Lorelei invited her in for a little wine. This became a dinner invite. They discovered common interests to talk and laugh about and enjoyed the evening immensely. Emily confessed to being sorry she hadn't befriended the brunette in school, and Lorelei acknowledged she hadn't made it easy. Neither wanted the evening to end and continued into the wee hours. Soft, sensual music played, and they were relaxed and happy. Then they began dancing. The rest, as they say...

The next day, as Emily recuperated in her new lover's bed, Lorelei finally attended her postponed meeting with the school board officials. While they were initially resistant to her request, they quickly and graciously agreed she'd met the graduation requirements and offered to fast-track her transcript processing for her. This cleared the way for her to move to the city... with Emily.

Lorelei used her influence very sparingly on her lover. While she'd eased the woman's inhibitions that first night, she refrained from outright controlling her as that would make her no better than Dale. A thought she found repugnant in the extreme.

Tonight, she'd just helped her fall asleep to ensure she'd stay that way until the morning when they'd wake together.

The showing the art gallery held this week had been a success, and her bank account was much healthier for it. She'd only presented two of her new pieces. It was best not to flood the market.

She was treading as lightly as she could with her newfound abilities to prevent her from appearing on the radar of this mysterious Hidden Council or some such. The strange... Tolkien-ish dwarf man in Germany had such a thick accent she'd missed some of his words. Granted, he'd spat most of them at her in his fear and impotent rage. More frustrating, he hadn't really given her any details about what she was other than not human and a threat.

This avoidance of drawing attention to herself didn't mean she wasn't using her new skills. Now that her immersion phobia was broken, she secretly learned about her abilities by visiting different rivers, streams, creeks, and brooks to commune with the distinct presences in each. She picked up a kind of excitement and relief with each link she made. The Hudson was almost overwhelming in its response to her. She'd discovered that she was immune to the frigid temperatures of the water and always felt energized when she ended her visits. She also received the impression that each waterway was... changed... improved in some undefined way. She still had so much to learn.

Tonight's activity strayed well outside her light touch policy. She was aware of the exception, but Peter was a loose end she needed to deal with.

Besides, she really did like the apartment, and the spot above the mantle was the perfect location for displaying something very special to her.

Song for a Still River, the painting she did of the river where she'd begun her new life, was the most powerful piece she'd ever painted and would not go to the auction house. It held far too much significance for her to ever let it fall into anyone else's hands.

Tomorrow, she'd visit the building to begin the process of transferring the condo to her name. There was probably a waiting list, but she'd soon be at the top. After all, her painting needed to have a beautiful new home.

She had a new, wondrous life to begin. She smiled to herself as she knew she could get it for a song.

Epilogue

Dr. Karin Eider was an early riser. She enjoyed the peace and quiet the hours just after sunrise afforded her. She'd arrive early at work and settle in behind her desk with only the small desk lamp and the glow from her laptop screen to illuminate the dim room. She'd drink her coffee as she caught up on her email and open any letters she received as well.

This morning followed that same pattern with one exception. She had very few emails but a large stack of letters. Nothing for it but to power through them.

It was almost eight-thirty when her assistant arrived. The young woman leaned in the doorway with a wide smile.

"Good morning, Doctor!"

Karin looked up in surprise at the girl as she'd lost track of the time. "Ah! Good morning, Helen!" She fondly recalled the days when she was so young.

The assistant gave the doctor a puzzled look. "You haven't opened the box yet!"

Karin blinked at her. "What box?"

"It came in last night by courier and has all the office staff curious!" Helen said as she walked into the room. She lifted a large flat box, which had been resting up against the front of her desk. The doctor had obviously missed it in the dark office.

Karin grinned at the woman. "Ooo! I hope it's a present!"

"Who's it from?" Helen asked.

The doctor examined the address label, and her eyes lit up excitedly. Her joy was infectious as Helen began giggling happily. They worked together to open the top carefully. Helen held the box flaps open while Karin lifted the bubble-wrapped item from the box.

Next, they peeled off the bubble wrap. The doctor looked her assistant in the eye. "No pop—" she began as a single snap sounded between the young woman's fingers. The doctor pulled the wrap from Helen's hand and flung it behind her with a mildly frustrated look at the woman.

An envelope was taped to the tissue paper, so she carefully removed it and opened it. The letter inside was just Lorelei's simple thank you message and a wish that this gift brought her happiness.

"That was really sweet of her to paint you a picture!" Helen said. She'd seen similar gifts in the past, though none so large or well-wrapped. She prepared herself to compliment the example of amateur effort. Her waiting room had a number of these attempts on display.

Karin carefully peeled the tape from the tissue paper wrapping the item. As the paper fell away to display the oil painting in the simple wood frame, she gasped.

Surprised by the strength of the doctor's reaction, Helen moved to stand beside her, and her jaw dropped. "Oh my god, it's beautiful!" This was nothing like the poor attempts at art most patients sent to the doctor. A second later, she was far more excited. "Doctor! That's you!" she exclaimed, pointing to the woman on the bridge. There was no question in her mind even though the figure showed just a hint of facial features. She couldn't explain it. She just had the impression it couldn't be anyone else.

She looked to the doctor and saw tears running down her cheeks. But her trembling lips were smiling, and her eyes held a profound peace and joy. Helen looked back at the art. The river running through the painting carried her eyes along with the current, but they always returned to the woman in the green dress.

"She was right. You have to witness one in person," Karin said softly.

"Doctor?"

She shook her head. She couldn't explain it. She didn't have the words.

"So, should we hang this in your reception area?" Helen asked with a slight smile, as that was where she worked.

Karin dabbed her eyes with a tissue and chuckled. "Is there room on the wall behind your desk?"

Helen looked absolutely scandalized that such gorgeous art would be behind her.

"No, this is coming home with me. I'd never get any work done with this on display anywhere in the building," the doctor explained. "Today, though, we'll hang it in the reception area so visitors and the other doctors can see it. Make sure you mention it to Dr. Weser!" The old blowhard was a self-proclaimed art expert and wouldn't shut up about his collection. This should take him down a peg or two!

Helen clapped her hands gleefully and rushed out to take down an existing painting she wasn't too keen on.

Karin thought about the day she stood on the bridge with the sad young woman. It had been a moment of connection she would never forget.

She hoped Lorelei was setting her own course to happiness. Glancing at the painting, she felt her heart fill with contentment again.

As the power of art is its ability to evoke emotion, with her own surging through her, she realized Lorelei might just be the most powerful artist she'd ever seen.

Karin wondered where her breathtaking talents would take her.