Siren's Song (34 page)

“He's a fucking monster!” Eric yells from his position near the ceiling. “Don't go anywhere with him, Jule!”

“You're not helping, Eric,” I warn without moving my eyes from Luke's. Luke breathes in and out, large gulps of air. “That's it, Luke.” I smile encouragement. “You aren't a monster. You're stronger than Maximillian's curse.” I can't help but throw a glare at Eric. “See what your little cult is based on? A psycho narcissist powerful enough with dark magic to change a normal person into a lethal, out-of-control killer.”

Luke suddenly strides to the couch and throws Eric down on it. He swivels and I gasp as he scoops me up, an arm under my knees.

“Stop!” Eric leaps up. Luke strides out of the den, through the kitchen to the back door. “I'll shoot you if you don't drop her.”

Over Luke's shoulder, I see Eric rush off somewhere upstairs. I wrap my arms tightly around Luke's neck. “He's getting a gun! Run, Luke, run!” I bury my face against his shoulder as he catapults across the yard. If Luke gets shot, if he gets killed, it will be my fault. My scream called him here. I'm his Siren. My love called the demon within him.
My fault
.

I squeeze my eyes shut as we dash across the driveway and into the woods flanking the Ashes' property. Branches crack and fly beneath his heavy footfalls. He cradles me close against his chest. I feel the muscles working in his body, his legs pumping smoothly beneath us, the heat radiating out of him. I inhale his natural scent. After what I just witnessed, I suppose his scent should trigger panic in me, but it doesn't.

My breathing slows to match Luke's unlabored breath. I peek up over his shoulder at the surrounding woods. We're moving so fast that it's like riding in a car. Red and yellow maples blur by as he dodges them. Grazed saplings quiver. Vines sway in the breeze of our wake. Occasionally the arm supporting my back extends to snap a branch out of the way, but the speed continues. I can't see the Ashes' house. I don't even think we're on their property anymore.

My eyes focus on the black lines of the dragon tattoos on the arm holding my legs. The serpents twine around Luke's muscles as if they control them. The thought releases a shiver through my body. I glance up at his pinched, angry face. His eyes are dark and focused ahead. I close mine and bury my head in his chest.

I don't know where we're going. I don't think he knows, either. I notice that we've broken through the edge of the woods when I hear his feet hitting pavement. I blink at the blackness around us. Night has fully descended. Luke continues, ducking back behind buildings as we move through town. Leaves scatter as we tear past. He dodges dumpsters and parked cars in an alleyway without slowing. We reach the edge of town minutes later. Luke veers off the side of the road to jog parallel to it, slowing somewhat. Gravel crunches and spits underfoot. Silence and wind hit me as he vaults streams and narrow creeks. Can he even see where he's running? When will he burn through the adrenaline? Will he suddenly stop, collapse? Maybe that's his plan. If he's too exhausted to stand, will he be too exhausted to kill me?

I curl into him and let him run. I feel my cell phone vibrate in my pocket but don't dare let go to answer it. Any number of people might be wondering where I am: Carly, Taylin, Mom, Eric. Eric! What if Eric installed some tracking device in my cell? I fish around in my dark, scrunched lap for my pocket. The vibrations stop as I drag it out.

“I…it could have a tracking chip or something, remember?” I say against the soft cotton of his shirt. With a flick of my wrist, before I can chicken out, I throw away my lifeline. The phone hits a tree as we fly by. I stomp on the panic rising higher into my chest, crushing against my lungs, making them difficult to fill. I've already chosen, I remind myself. I'm all in. “I love you,” I whisper against the steady drum of his heart.

The combination of a groan and a furious roar tumbles up and out of Luke. It's the sound of the battle within him, the clash of his will and the curse in an agonizing, torturous tone. Slowly, his crushing grip on me loosens enough for me to relax again in his hold. I force a deep inhale. Oxygen, enemy of panic, squelches my traitorous, self-preserving thoughts. Even if I could escape Luke, I won't. I close my eyes and cuddle as best I can into his shoulder as he continues onward, slowing finally to a fast walk.

Time loses meaning. I know I haven't dozed. I mean, how could I? But the mental and physical battles of the day and subsequent exhaustion cut the wires to my internal clock. The darkness and trees, the few times I glance up, give no indication of time or place. The night is disorienting.

A shift startles me. Luke transfers me in his steel arms, as if he can feel my weight. I try to straighten up, but he doesn't help. I can't see his arm in the pitch-black night under the trees. Are the dragons still wrapped around him? I look up. He looks down at me, but I can't see his eyes.

I tense as he repositions me, and I realize that I really need to pee. “Uh…are you okay?” I ask softly. He doesn't answer. “Because I kind of need to use the bathroom.” Not that I think there's a rest area here in the woods, but a bush and some privacy will do. He turns, his strides still long but human. After a few more minutes, we break through the edge of the woods into a dim parking lot.

A dozen campers and trailers are parked in the lot, apparently being stored. He stops before a large Winnebago and lowers my feet to the ground. My legs give way, but he holds me around the waist so I don't fall. The moon flashes across his face. Haggard, worried, guilt-engulfed. His expression is hollow, like he's run out all of his emotions.

He turns to the door and the lock clicks. “That's right,” I whisper with a slight grin. “You're good with locks.”

We climb into the plush interior. It smells new. Luke flips on a dim light over a built-in couch that looks like it opens into a fairly large bed. Blankets are folded neatly on a chair beside it. A pack of gum sits on a table with several folded maps. I feel along the wall toward the back until I find a switch and then, thank God, the bathroom.

The toilet flushes, but the water doesn't come on in the sink. I walk silently back toward the couch, clicking off the hall light as I go. No need to advertise that we're inside. Luke slumps against the cushions on the couch, head limp, chin against his chest. I rush to him, but then gingerly sit next to him. “Luke?”

Very slowly, Luke turns his head toward me, forcing it to rise. In the low light of the entryway behind Luke's head, I can tell that his eyes are closed. He looks half-asleep, but then he shoves himself closer to me. I reach for his hand. It's clenched into a fist against his leg. As I work at unlocking the tight knot of his fingers, Luke's eyes slowly open. I stare into his gaze and promptly choke on a gasp.

19

“We all grow up with the weight of history on us. Our ancestors dwell in the attics of our brains as they do in the spiraling chains of knowledge hidden in every cell of our bodies.”
~Shirley Abbott

Blue light swirls within his orbs, an icy burning. I'm not sure if he's Luke, but then he talks. “Jule,” he whispers, his voice rough. He grips my hand, though his fingers still feel tight and curled like talons. “Are you okay?” he asks.

I release my breath quickly and nod in the dark. “Yeah, but I'm not the one who just ran for an hour holding a girl with an infamous sweet tooth.”

“Thirty-seven minutes, and you don't weigh much.”

“Uh, thanks, but still, that's a long time. Are you okay now?” I ask, ignoring the glow in his eyes. Obviously, he's not completely himself yet.

“I've been better.” He lets out a breath and leans back into the cushions. “I sort of lost it.”

I curl up by his side. “Did you run until you could control the curse?”

I think I see him nod, his hair sliding against the dark, curtained window. “When you screamed—”

“I'm so sorry,” I interrupt.

He turns to me again and my shoulders relax. His eyes look normal in the dim lighting. The dragons on his arms have vanished.

He shakes his head. “I shouldn't have let you confront Eric alone. He's too dangerous.”

“He thinks he's in the right.”

“Most madmen do. Not many people wake up and decide to be evil.”

I turn to him, pulling my knee up onto the cushion. “He belongs to an organization founded by those guardians who originally killed you just after Maximillian formed the curse. It's grown into something called the Magic Alliance. He said it was worldwide. They go after people who they consider dangerous, not just the three of you.

“I've been Eric's responsibility. He's been protecting me, he says, and he's convinced that his only duty is to keep you away from me.” I shake my head. “I thought I was getting through to him, but then he got nervous when Carly woke up. He frickin' erased her memory again.” I ramble through the details after Eric found us. I feel the folded lump of paper in my back pocket, outlining the horror of my ancestry. I shift and squirm against it, trying to get comfortable, like there's a pea under my mattress.

“And then I screamed into his ear, hoping to startle him enough to make him drop me.”

Luke nods. “Your scream,” his tone burns. “It shot through me like icy fire, if that makes sense.” He shakes his head. “It was like I erupted, or the curse did, flooding me with power and so much fury. I couldn't control it.”

I lay my hand on his. It's larger than mine and I balance my fingers along it. “But you did. Even at its worst.” I move my face in front so he has to see me. “You didn't hurt me.”

He snorts gently. “Just carried you unwillingly miles from home,” he glances up at the ceiling of the Winnebago, “to the middle of nowhere.”

“Hey,” I bounce a little on the couch. “This isn't too shabby. There's a bathroom, a roof, blankets and pillows.” My voice drops slightly. “And privacy.” Luke stares at me from the darkness. I can't see his features to try to decipher them. I feel my face heat at my unspoken suggestion. “You probably need food, though, and something to drink.”

I stand quickly to cover my embarrassment and find some cabinets. I switch on a little light inside. “Jackpot,” I say with enthusiasm as I pull out an unopened bag of Cheetos and two bottled waters.

Luke guzzles down one water, and I hand him the second after I take a few sips. He shakes his head. “There's more in the cabinet,” I say and push it into his hand. A cell phone vibrates. I know it's not mine.

“It's been ringing for the last thirty minutes,” he says and looks at the screen. “My parents.”

I huff. “What are we going to say about where we are?”

“Well, we could just forget about everyone and everything until tomorrow,” Luke suggests and a little grin relaxes his face. The phone beeps that it has received a message. I feel, rather than see, Luke move closer to me in the dark. “We could just hang out, you know, like two regular teenage runaways.”

I laugh softly to cover the nervous thrill tingling through me. “God, that sounds fantastic.”

“But…?”

“How do you know there's a ‘but' coming?” I laugh.

He reaches toward my face and I hold my breath. His warm fingers touch my cheek and brush across to catch a lock of my hair. Luke tucks it behind my ear. “Because you're pretty responsible, probably comes from being an only child. Plus, your mom just got home from the hospital, and once you think it through you really don't want her to worry all night.”

I exhale as silently as I can. “Yeah…I don't want her to freak. Although I'm sure they both probably already are.” Luke lowers his hand and I glance down. I hit the light button on my watch. 8:07. Yeah, they are freaking right now.

Luke hands me his phone.

“Me first?” I take it. “What do I say?”

Luke laughs. “I'm waiting to hear so I know what to say to my folks.”

I purse my lips but dial. “Hello?” Dad picks up on the first ring.

“Dad, it's Jule. I'm okay.”

“It's Julietta!” he yells into the room. “Where are you?! Are you with Luke Whitmore? Did he hurt you?”

“Yes,” I break in, “I'm with Luke, and no, he didn't hurt me.” Frustration rolls across my tongue with my words. “He's the one keeping me safe.” Dad's silent for a moment, making a tingle prickle up my back. “Eric's there, isn't he? Don't answer,” I add quickly. “Don't trust him, Dad. He's dangerous. Mom was right.”

“Where are you?” Dad asks evenly.

“Where are we?” I ask Luke.

Luke springs up and checks the console across the front of the Winnebago. “The ticket in the window says Cedar Grove RV storage. I think we're on the north side of Cary.”

“Umm…Cedar Grove between Cary and Durham, maybe.”

“What? That's thirty minutes away, at least,” Dad says.

“We got to talking on a bus,” I lie.

“A bus? What were you doing on a bus?”

“You didn't want me riding Luke's motorcycle, so we thought we'd try public transportation to get something to eat out of town, you know, after seeing Matt at the hospital. We were both pretty shaken up.” Well, that last part was at least true. “We got to talking, and then we realized we'd gone too far. We got off at the next stop.” Dad doesn't say anything while he processes my lie. He's too smart to believe it, but will he let it pass, for now?

“Eric says you are still in Summit,” Dad articulates slowly.

“Summit, huh?” I look at Luke. “Must be where my cell is.”

“What?” Dad asks. “Wait, I'm coming to get you. Where exactly are you?”

“I'm not sure. It's pretty dark. There's an RV storage place on the road.”

“In Cary?”

“Yeah.” I watch Luke scan the area outside the windows. He shrugs.