Siren's Song (27 page)

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Authors: Heather McCollum

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BOOK: Siren's Song
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“I told you, I don't remember.”

“And why do you think you don't remember?”

Carly stares straight ahead. She puts her car into drive. I push the door open and grab my bag. “Just think about it. I. Love. You. BFF-sister.” I step back and let the heavy door shut. I watch Carly drive down the street. She passes Taylin's car. Matt throws his hand up out the window, but she just speeds past. Taylin parks along the curb.

“Where's Carly going?” Matt asks.

I watch the familiar little sedan racing away. My chest constricts and I fight to keep the tears wrapped up tight with the salty sea I've been holding captive inside. Blubbering won't help anything. “She didn't like what I told her about Eric,” I say.

“Huh,” Taylin says. “I guess I was wrong.”

I shut my eyes and inhale. The faint scent of Luke fills me a second before his hands rest lightly on my shoulders. “It will be okay,” he says close to my ear. “She'll have to see the truth once we figure it out.”

“She's like my sister.” I turn to him. Matt and Taylin trudge up the green hill of lawn toward the grand door.

“I hate to see you hurt,” Luke says softly. He brushes away a tear I know isn't on my cheek because I refuse to acknowledge it. “It makes me…” he pinches his lips shut, “furious, actually.” Then he smiles sadly and sighs. He pulls me toward his chest and I let him. I momentarily surrender to his comfort as his scent, warmth, and strength surround me. I'm embraced in him and it's almost as soothing as the deeply resonating notes of a song.

I clamp my lips shut and pull away. “What?” Luke asks and looks down into my gaze as if he's diving into me.

I blink. “Sometimes I feel, I don't know, like I must be with you, like I can't stay away,” I whisper and shake my head. “I wonder if the curse works on me too.”

Luke's blue-black eyes darken into warped, glistening swirls, like oil. His entire face turns to stone, so much so that I know if I touch it, his skin will feel like granite.

“Curse or not, you are the most beautiful person I've ever known. I've been focused entirely on you for two hundred years,” he says, the words low, gravelly, not Luke but something much darker. “You are everything to me.”

I concentrate on my breathing and nod slightly, as if I don't see the dark change in him. “Let's go figure out how to break this curse.” I turn and grab his hand that is clenched into a ball of rock-hard fury. I swallow hard as I hear the tick of time running out.

15

“O! Say, can you see…”
~Francis Scott Key

“My dad said he can take Taylin and me to his lab on Saturday,” I say. I shake my head at the cookie Luke offers me. Ever since Carly's voice changed in the car from sunny to stagnant disbelief and betrayal, my stomach hasn't stopped churning. I'm sure if she was here in Luke's basement she could tell me exactly what type of acid is swimming around in there.

“Cool,” Matt says and bites into oatmeal chocolate chip.

“What's your plan?” Luke asks. His eyes have solidified back into their normal blue-black, gorgeous orbs. I'm trying to sit away from him and he seems to understand he shouldn't follow.

Taylin holds up a hand as if in class. “Okay, this is what we do. We get into where the fake blood is stored,” she looks at me, “and then you start singing. He'll freeze into a trance and I'll grab a bag from the back where it won't be noticed.”

“I'm sure they keep count,” I say.

Taylin shrugs. “Everyone makes a mistake. Hopefully, he won't notice until all this is over.”

“And what are we going to do with this bag of fake blood?” Matt asks.

Taylin grins like a Cheshire cat. “I know a spell. All I need is a drop of Jule's real blood to mix in with the fake stuff. I can make the rest of it look, smell, basically
become
just like her real blood. A whole bunch of it.”

“Then Luke spills it?” Matt asks and Taylin nods.

“Seems too easy,” Luke mumbles. He pages through the oldest looking sketchbook he has. “We still don't know what ‘pierce the dragon's thigh' or ‘eye' means.”

“Maybe we need to pierce your dragons,” I say. “The tattoos that appear when the curse surfaces.”

“Yeah!” Taylin yells. “That makes sense. Pierce the eye of the dragon on your arm so your blood mixes with Jule's.”

Luke huffs and raises his eyebrows. “Maybe.”

“Maybe I should take two bags, just in case we need to do it again,” Taylin contemplates as she taps a long black nail on her lip.

“I don't want my dad to get in trouble.”

Taylin waves her hand. “I'm sure he can handle that more than he can handle his only daughter being ripped apart.”

Her casual words thump through me and my breath goes flat like it's been squashed by a large boulder.

“Taylin,” Luke growls a warning. He looks at me, his eyes strong, concerned and pained. Like he's apologizing. I feel his embrace even without him physically touching me or even moving closer.

“Oh, sorry,” she says. “I guess when you've died enough times it doesn't seem like that big a deal anymore.”

“Hey down there,” Luke's dad thumps down the stairs.

“Yeah, Dad?”

Oscar Whitmore grabs a stack of jerseys on a bar stool near the pool table. “I've got tickets for tonight's game against Montreal. Box seats.” His gaze takes us all in. “You're all welcome to come.”

“Cool!” Matt says. Taylin nods with a dry smile.

A hockey game? In the middle of all this insanity?

“Sounds good, Dad. Thanks.” Luke smiles warmly at his dad. I wonder if Oscar realizes the affection is just rehearsed and doesn't reach Luke's eyes.

Oscar looks at me. “Hope you can make it, too, Jule. Do you know hockey at all?”

I clear the dryness from my throat. “Actually, my dad and I watch. But I've only been to one game.”

Oscar claps his hands in a short but powerful bark. “Good enough!” Luke's grin at me tells me I said the right thing. “Can't have Luke seeing a girl who doesn't like the sport. We live and breathe hockey around here, if you haven't noticed.”

Seeing a girl? It sounds so beautifully normal, even though it is far from it. I know my face is turning red so I don't look at Luke. I smile back. “I think I can come. I just need to check in at home.”

Mom seems anxious for me to return to what she calls a normal life and heartily urges me to go. She doesn't know what I know. My life will never be normal again.

* * *

Crowds of red jerseys laugh and rush past us to find their seats. The game hasn't even started yet, but the smell of beer and popcorn already permeates the MBC Center. Taylin veers off toward a cotton candy stand.

Matt laughs. “She can't resist sweets.”

“Do you want anything?” Luke says close to my ear, causing an arc of sensation to splinter down that side of my body. He holds my hand, his arm brushing mine as we walk in the throng. I shake my head. “There's water and snacks in the box,” he adds.

Matt bounces along next to us. He looks so excited about the game I wonder if he shouldn't be playing hockey instead of football. Excitement surges everywhere as people bustle with their nachos, beer and brats. But apart from the sensations set off by Luke's touch, I'm walking numb as my mind replays the terrible scene with Carly. The four of us broke up right after Luke's dad came down. I tried to call Carly but she let me roll into her voice mail.
Please talk to me
was the only message I left.

The corporate box where we have tickets has its own bathroom, snack bar, and comfy seats. “Perks,” Luke says as Matt inspects every corner and takes a complementary Coke from the mini fridge.

I sink into a red seat and meet Luke's intense stare. “She'll come around,” he promises as he sits. I nod, my lips pursed tight. “Try to relax for the evening. Nothing's happening here. Just an ordinary hockey game in a tucked-away box. I won't let anything happen to you.”

My lips soften. “Thanks.”

He leans closer and brushes a kiss along my ear, which tickles. “Nap if you want to. I won't tell my dad.”

I laugh as I scrunch my neck at the sensation. The back door slams open and I jump. Luke is on his feet in a fast blur. Both he and Matt block my view as they form a shield in front of me.

“Got an emergency,” Luke's dad calls. I glance around the side of Luke's hips, ignoring the way his jeans fit perfectly over his butt. Oscar Whitmore leans to the side until his gaze meets mine. “I need Jule.”

“Me?”

Luke steps aside. Apparently his dad is not a threat, but something in the way Oscar studies me makes me wonder if maybe he is.

“Captain Haverty is throwing up hot dogs in the crapper. I need you to sing the anthems. Luke says you can sing.”

“What?” I stand up now, my gaze snapping between Luke and his dad.

“We're going to be on national television in ten minutes. It will be a huge embarrassment if we have to play prerecorded anthems. I told Ted you could do it.” Who the hell is Ted?! Oscar nods encouragingly, his fuzzy eyebrows rising.

I swallow. “Luke?”

Taylin walks in, a huge chunk of pink fluff sticking halfway out of her mouth. “Love this stuff,” she says and laughs sarcastically at her own personal joke. She glances around at our faces. “What's the problem?”

“No problem,” Oscar says. “Jule's going to sing the national anthems.” I still haven't answered. “Don't worry about the Canadian one. The words will be right in front of you. Just follow the music.”

“Shit,” Taylin whispers and grabs a bag of crumbling cookies out of her pocket. “Here,” she shoves one in Oscar's hand. “Eat it for luck.” Oscar shoves it in his mouth without noticing, which might be why his shirt seems to be fitting a little tight. He watches me closely.

“She's shy,” Luke defends. But the look on Oscar's face shows quite clearly that he isn't planning to leave the box without me. Luke looks between us, his brows furrowed. Well, hell, he never lets his father down. He's grown up following every order the man has given him. Why did I come? I could be safely locked away in my room, or watching the game from home. If I sing on television, people all across the nation might fall into a trance. They will be driving or cooking or…or holding babies? With a single stanza I could bring death and disaster to the world. I start to tremble as my mind frantically buzzes with ridiculous excuses. Sudden laryngitis, stress-induced hysteria, an emergency at home.

“I…I can't.”

“Sure you can,” Oscar belts out. “Luke, a little help here?”

Luke wraps his arm around my shoulder. “Give us a minute, Dad.”

Oscar huffs but turns toward the door. “We don't have too many of those minutes, Luke.”

Matt and Taylin start talking as soon as the door clicks shut. “She can't! It could affect people all over the place. We don't know if her voice works across satellite. We can't take that chance! Let's get her out of here!”

Luke holds up a hand. I see sparks before my eyes and try to breathe evenly. “Jule, can you sing?”

“Well, yeah, but,” I indicate Matt and Taylin, “what they said.”

Luke looks at his sister and brother. “There are vans from three networks out in the west parking lot, two local, one that goes national. If you take those satellites out they can't broadcast. Her voice will only affect those in this building.” He smiles wryly. “And me, of course. I will get as far away as I can and eat the rest of Tay's blasted cookies if the curse doesn't stop me.”

Matt and Taylin look at each other.

“It's dark. Just cut any wires you see or pull the dishes off the trucks. You have eight minutes,” Luke says calmly.

“Shit!” Taylin screeches.

“Go, go, go!” Matt yells over her curse and they race out of the luxury box.

“Luke—”

“I can get away,” he says. “He just won't understand if… Look, I'll eat the cookies while I'm driving out of here.”

What can I say? It's all he can give his dad. I nod.

“We're good here, Dad,” Luke calls. Oscar watches Taylin and Matt run through the crowd, but doesn't ask. He surges back in.

“Great! Let's go, Jule. Luke, you come, too.”

“No. Jule would rather I'm not there.” Luke smiles. “Like I said, she's shy. I'll just make her more nervous.”

Somehow I'm breathing as my heart pounds so hard and fast that it's like gunfire popping in my ears. Luke's right. I
am
shy. Not in a million years would I stand before a full stadium and sing something I haven't rehearsed at all. But that's not what's making me freak now. The horrific possibilities overshadow my mere worry about messing up the words of a nationally loved song.

“Okay, I'll make sure she gets back up here afterwards.” Oscar grabs my hand and tows me behind him. I look over my shoulder.

Luke gives me a brief grin. “Break a leg.”

Get out of here
, I mouth. He nods.

The podium is set at the end of a red carpet rolled onto the ice. Great, I'm just wearing jeans and a pink top. Not something I would wear singing in front of a million people or whatever insane number watches hockey games. God, I hope Taylin and Matt get to those vans. A red-lipped lady that Oscar introduces to me, but I can't remember her name, hands me a paper with the words of the “Star Spangled Banner” on it. A second sheet is entitled “O Canada.” “Just walk to the end of the carpet,” she says. “When you're ready, give a little nod and we'll start up the music to the ‘Star Spangled Banner.' Just sing the words off the sheet.” She pats my shoulder. “Don't be nervous.”

“Thanks,” I murmur and glance along row after row of fans in red jerseys. I'm beyond nervous. Nervous is sneaking in after curfew or taking a final exam or giving a speech in front of the class. This is…pants-pissing terror.

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