Imprecise Magic (Patreon)

Another one from that discovered archive

Vanessa had no need to steal anything, of course. Her Dad owned half the town and she could buy whatever she wanted. Unfortunately being rich in this town was incredibly boring. Vanessa wanted - no, needed - the thrill of the illegal.

So here she was again with her group. They'd just raided Old Man Finister's shop (again, for the fourth time in six weeks - he was such an easy mark). Only this time, things hadn't gone quite so easily. Seems the old goof had bought a security alarm and had it installed without anyone knowing (how that was possible, Vanessa couldn't guess - her Dad owned the electronic security and computer shop in the town). They were running now, not just from the local fuzz but from tough looking dudes from up state. FBI, she would bet.

One by one, her erstwhile friends had dropped out to be captured but not Vanessa. She kept going, spurred on by her fear and the rush it was giving her. Her race ran out, though, on the beach. A deserted fisherman's hut was going to be her last stand unless something changed and drastically. Hunkering low, she sought some means of escape, an excuse perhaps that her Dad would believe. That didn't seem likely after her last few escapades. She could hear the approach of the police cars and could , occasionally see flashes of red and blue shining on the glass.

She'd just about decided to give herself up when a small voice startled her. Her ring, or rather the ring given her by her grandmother after digs in Egypt, was talking to her. Great! Now it's insanity, too.

"Help you, sure I can!" it announced.
"Oh sure. How can a ring get me away from them?" she asked, realising she was talking to her finger.
"Ring servant can, sure!" it pleaded.
"Ring servant?"
"Magic you away. Magic you changed. Magic you safe. Can make one time for finder," it stated.
"Oh sure. Magic," Vanessa was too hard nosed to believe in fairy tales.
"Faerie?" the voice asked. "What faerie?"
"Little people," she snarled, more concerned with the approaching police. 

Her only hope was running away but there was only the sea. She'd not get far in the surf unless ...

"Can you make me a siren?"
"Not know siren," the voice stated.
"You know. One of those half woman things. You know, a siren," she replied in exasperation.
"Buried so long. Not know siren. Can read head?"
"Head?" she asked puzzled.
"Head talkings. Head pictures. I see, I make. You leave!?"
"Oh, mind reading," Vanessa was sure she was going nuts but what had she to lose? "Sure ring, go ahead." 

Instead of focusing on mermaids and mythology though, Vanessa let her mind wander to the lights and sirens outside. So when the strange greenish glow faded, Vanessa bent her head to one side, expecting nothing, but hoping for a fish tail to escape with ... to catch sight of rings of polished metal and plastic, a handle attached on one side of her body and a slightly updated version of a siren ...

Woman: Wildplaces