Siren's Call

by Katherine McIntyre

  Mr. Sexy Voice stepped up to the mic and the music began.

  From the start, the blend of guitar with heavy bass and the slow crescendo of the drums created a unique sound. These guys were talented, I’d give them that. A little more aggressive rock than punk, but it didn’t matter. Not after watching the crowd’s reaction.

  It was as if Discord’s Desire had leveled a pheromone bomb through the place.

  The spell was cast from the fae’s compelling voice, the guitarist thrusting against his Fender, the incubus’s stare pinning guys down right and left. And the bassist—he had to be a siren with the way the plucked notes of his bass held the audience captive.

  These folks bred off sexual energy and they had a whole basement of humans ripe for the picking. And hell, every human in the place made themselves as ripe as possible.

  With the sole exception of me.

  The strains were slow, pumping faster and faster as the crowd began responding. At most concerts, fans will get into the music. Guys and girls backing their thangs up, or chicks throwing themselves at their dreamboat on stage. Not like this. Forget the players on stage—everyone responded to the music as if a climax hit them at the end of every guitar chord.

  Beads of sweat slid down my neck from the rise of heat in the room.

  A chick near the bar grabbed the man next to her and began making out, her tongue down his throat and barely stopping for air.

  Two guys, burlier ones, started tonguing too, aggressive to the point of banging against the wall. Mere feet from me, two neon-haired punkers began toying with a girl on the floor. She’d kiss one of them and then slide her hand down the other’s pants, beginning to pump. A guy had ditched his pants, his erection stark in the room. A couple of seconds later, a woman wrapped her lips around it and started sucking.

  Despite my ability to brave the lust waves and not fall on my knees, my chaste stint combined with the free porn show in front of me wasn’t helping temper my libido at all. The fae on stage were drinking in all this sexual chi too.

  Their energy increased the longer they kept this up, swinging with their instruments, shoulders straightening and the air around them pulsing with an off-hue glow like the flyer. Their music followed the waves of energy and the human audience lapped it up. Well, and each other.

  I turned to Viola to see how my girl was faring, but she’d lost herself in one of those gorgeous lanky bastards I’d checked out earlier. The guy had lifted her off the ground and was holding her up by her ass. Her legs twined around his thin torso and she leaned up, lips exploring his mouth, his neck, his chest.

  This level of voyeurism was uncomfortable. Being the only one not falling prey to mind-numbing lust and too moral to dive right in knowing these humans were being used by fae and the sort, I was going to need a hell of a cold shower afterward.

  In essence, while everyone else was getting sucked off, it just sucked for me.

  Viola might kick me for this later, but her one-night stands should be her choice, not supernatural compulsion. “Come on, girlie.” I tugged at her shoulder.

  The guy’s arm snaked around me, pulling me tight behind her. His fingers climbed through my hair and the motion sent prickles down my neck. God above, I needed to get laid. My knees were already weak. Not going to take advantage, though, because I’d feel like shit later.

  I bit my lip and pulled away, grabbing Viola by the waist. She turned around and rubbed against me, purring like a wildcat. We were best friends and all, but I wasn’t looking to get that close.

  “Let’s get out of here.” I snagged her hand. Thankfully, she was pretty open to anything involving touching. I muscled my way toward the stairs, moving past a girl bent over the bar, the guy thrusting up her ass. Awesome.

  The place reeked of sweat and sex, the odors hanging suspended in the humid air. Lights flashed and the music continued to send everyone wild.

  The guitarist was lapping up the attention at this point. He knelt on the platform, plucking at his Fender while girls swarmed the stage, pawing at him and panting. The singer’s grin creeped me out and every time the light glinted his way, those sharp teeth seared through my mind.

  If only the audience could see the real forms of the circus freaks up there.

  The exit couldn’t appear fast enough. Viola had started grinding on my leg and to say it was awkward cheapened the word. I glanced back in time to catch those light-blue eyes dart my way. The bassist caught my escape. Not my problem that their mind juju didn’t work on me.

  All the way up the stairs, Viola kept running her hands along my arms, grabbing my tits, and slipping her arm around my waist. Yeah, not happening. I batted her off at every attempt, even though she kept getting more and more aggressive.

  We broke past the steps, but no one stood behind the counter. Jamie was somewhere in the mess downstairs. Same with the philosophy boys who’d been all high and mighty at their fancy table. Chances were they were sucking and fucking each other right now.

  I lugged all hundred pounds of Viola outside. Maybe fresh air would knock some sense into her. This had turned out to be a distraction, sure, but not the kind I’d been hoping for. We stepped through the door—well, Viola half-stumbled—and a chilly breeze hit me. After all the humidity in the basement, I gulped it down.

  I sagged against the wall as Viola got a little less handsy and a little more confused. She patted herself down, smoothing her skirts and straightening pieces of her hair in an OCD routine as she regained her senses.

  “Man, that was getting intense down there, wasn’t it?” Viola fanned herself. “Did I have a lot to drink? It got kind of hazy … but I do remember the lead singer had one hell of a voice.”

  I choked on my annoyance. Not like it didn’t happen every time something supernatural this way came. Normal people couldn’t pin down what happened, whether they were incited to violence, orgies, or even a killer jam session, thanks to those creativity-leeching fae.

  “I need a stiff drink after that mess. Want to join me?” I asked, looping an arm around her shoulders. To my relief, she didn’t try to feel me up this time.

  “Sure thing. I’ll sell you off at the bar, become your pimp.” She flashed me a grin as we marched off toward the Raven pub.

  Chapter Two

  Two Jack Daniel’s later and I still felt hot and bothered. Alcohol did nothing to sate the figurative blue balls I’d gotten from watching everyone get it on but myself. The bartender, a surly guy named Jake, chatted up one of the older broads who batted her clumpy eyelashes his way.

  Viola had returned to her perky, happy self as if five minutes ago she hadn’t been straddling a guy in the basement at a show. If I’d been normal, I could’ve gotten my jollies off, had a good time, and let out some pent-up aggression. But no, the fae-sex-mobile had to come rolling into town with the worst timing ever.

  God, I needed a cigarette. I swished around my third Jack Daniel’s and watched the ice cubes begin to melt. Viola had made a new friend, a guy sporting thick-rimmed glasses and a bushy beard that trailed halfway down his button-down shirt.

  The door creaked open, the little bell tinkling with the motion.

  I glanced back to see who’d come in this close to closing and groaned.

  All four of them approached, as if they hadn’t already caused enough havoc in this town. Satyr had a smirk on his face and questionable stains on his shirt. Sexy Voice sauntered inside, pep in his step and all. Guitarist was still eyeing the sad remaining bar patrons, probably looking for an extra fix.

  The seat next to me squeaked.

  “Pint of lager,” a deep and definitely male voice demanded. Those light-blue eyes pierced right through me, the same way they had in the basement. Up close, he smelled salty, like a sea breeze.

  “Upset they don’t have any ocean water for you?” I asked before I could stop myself.

  His eyebrows went way up, but those thin lips just curled into a smile. Despite the neck gills and greenish tint, the boy was gorg
eous in that so-pretty-I’d-break-you kind of way. Even if I could’ve sworn I spotted strands of seaweed woven through his hair.

  “So I was right. You’re not normal.” He took a sip of his lager but never looked away. Rather than unsettling me, his gaze set my libido on fire. Nothing to do with magical siren powers and everything to do with a damn attractive male giving me the eye. If I didn’t find myself home and taking a cold shower soon, I would do very bad things to that man, siren or not.

  “I don’t know about that assessment. Compared to your brood, I’m pretty damn normal. Just seen some shit in my day.”

  That elicited a chuckle from him. Had to disengage before my mind wandered into dangerous territory. Like what a siren was like in bed. Bad, bad libido.

  “You’re taking your show on the road, right? Like, out of this town?” I asked, swirling the ice around my glass. All flirting aside, I hoped and prayed they’d be on the move. Otherwise, my problems would be twofold—finding a new job and a new home.

  “Always.” He stared down the meager bar selection of Seagram’s, Captain Morgan, and good ol’ Jack Daniel’s. “Not like we’d be able to tap this town too often without drawing attention.”

  “Less turf to fight over, though, being out in the middle of nowhere.”

  Interest sparked those blue eyes again. “And what would a normal girl like you know about that?”

  “I’ve done my fair share of location-hopping due to your kind. One of the shit factors of seeing through glamour is the label of crazy chick that comes with.” A knot unfurled inside my chest at talking openly like this.

  “You’re immune to our magic, aren’t you?” His voice contained a note of wonder in it as he looked me up and down. The tip of his tongue ran over one of his sharper teeth, not unlike our canines.

  Glass of lager still in hand, he began to hum. Nice voice and could carry a tune, but I was too busy ogling his gorgeous arms to pay attention to the ditty. Viola, on the other hand, snapped to attention, as did the old broad who’d been talking up Jake. The men were just as entranced, a hazy look overtaking their eyes as the spell settled in. I placed a hand on my hip. “Was that supposed to impress me?”

  “God, that’s hot,” he purred.

  I arched an eyebrow, not sure what he referred to. “You mean my trademark sass move? Because I thought it could use a little work.”

  “You’re a human who doesn’t get wrapped up in our magic. Do you know how rare you are?”

  “Apparently you do,” I snarked back. If this banter continued, I was going to jump his bones in minutes.

  “You have no idea. You’ve been blending in your whole life, haven’t you?” The way his light-blue eyes danced with hunger made me squeeze my legs together. He leaned in closer, his face inches away from mine. The salty smell of the sea rolled around him, as intoxicating as the tide. “And you’ve got to be pent-up after that show down there.” His grin widened and one of those sharp teeth poked out.

  Wicked. He was a wicked, wicked bastard.

  I tilted my glass and drank a larger-than-average sip of good old JD. When I lowered the glass to the bar, my arm brushed against his. The slight skin-to-skin contact rushed through me like a wave. I shifted on the stool. The room was a bit stifling all of a sudden.

  “Can’t tease me like that, buddy,” I joked. “Too long a dry spell here.”

  His lips brushed my ear as he leaned in to whisper. “Darling, it’s no tease.” He nipped my ear before he pulled away.

  The effect was instantaneous. I squeezed my legs together, trying to suppress the ache that blossomed. He lifted the pint glass to his lips and chugged it down. “Now, care for a breath of fresh air?”

  Didn’t need to ask me twice. He grabbed my hand and I followed him out, his band members, Viola, the bartender all blurring into the background. My mind reeled, intoxicated by the promises spoken in those eyes.

  Crunchy brown leaves danced around my ankles, kicked up by a spare breeze. Despite the cold, his hand on mine filled me with growing warmth. The full moon cast an alien gleam over everything, gliding over the metal of the cars, shading the brick a soft purple. We reached the back of the bar and he spun me around. The strength and control of his arms surprised me.

  His arm snaked around my waist like a coil of heat pressing around my midriff. Our breath mingled, visible in the chilly night. The wind tried to numb my cheeks, but the way intense heat pulsed through me from his proximity, there was no chance of growing cold.

  Moonlight turned his skin porcelain-pale and threaded shadows through his raven-wing hair. I rested a hand on the nape of his neck, careful to not brush against the gills. The way his eyes bored into me—it wasn’t the glazed look his kind got while feeding. This was a hunger bred from desire. The same hunger that begged me to wrap my legs around his waist and let him enter me, again and again.

  I shivered, but not from the cold. He paused and tilted his head to the side.

  “You aren’t compelled,” he said in a hushed voice.

  Irritation sparked through me. I’d had enough talking about my weird abilities.

  Enough waiting around, and hell, enough watching for tonight.

  “Shut up and fuck me,” I growled, grabbing him by his button-down shirt and pulling him forward. He laughed in surprise, a silken sound, before his mouth found mine.

  My insides weakened the second our lips touched and the fingers on his shirt unclenched. He pulled me closer at the same moment his tongue slipped into my mouth. Christ, and he could kiss.

  My legs lost function and clothes became too cumbersome. He tasted salty like the ocean and radiated the same steady power. The tingling from his mouth on mine traveled all the way to my fingertips.

  Simple skin-to-skin contact wasn’t enough. I kissed him back, biting down on his lower lip, satisfied to hear his groan. My hands slipped behind his neck, tracing down his spine, dipping inside his shirt.

  His arm tightened around my waist and my hips pressed against his. My shirt rode up as his hand crept under, climbing up my stomach, higher and higher. He caressed the top of my breast, circling around to squeeze. The motion sent a jolt through me, making my nipples hard.

  A groan escaped my lips and I ground against him, desperate to have him inside me. His fingertips darted down my pants, tugging at the waistband the way he would the strings of his bass.

  I sank to my knees, his hand caressing my back as I slid. My breaths were heavy, like swallowing a thick syrup, but my nerves bristled with excitement.

  His black chinos didn’t stand a chance.

  I grabbed the zipper with my teeth and tugged, and his dick appeared. He leaned back, shoulders pressed against the brick wall as he braced himself. I ran my tongue up and down the length of his erection, shuddering from the heat. He grabbed a fistful of my hair, sending thrills up my spine.

  I opened my mouth and took him in whole, dipping up and down. His legs tensed with the motion and I went faster.

  His erection throbbed and I could taste sex in my mouth. My insides tightened like a taut balloon waiting for a pinprick to burst it. His hips moved with my mouth and picked up tempo until he pulled me back and up by my hair. He panted, his eyes intense and predatory, straining with the effort of pulling me away.

  He leaned forward, grabbed the hem of my pants, and tugged, the cargos dropping to the ground. His hand found my thigh and ran up and down my leg. I thrust my hips against him and his erection was hot and hard against my leg. My insides throbbed.

  God, I wanted him.

  Those same skillful fingers plucked my panties off like a petal and they fell to the ground with my pants. He gripped both my thighs, reaching up until he was squeezing my ass, and lifted me up.

  He turned and my back slammed against the brick wall as he ground against me. His length brushed against my skin, piercing me with desire so strong it was painful. My lips found his again and I tasted his sweet mouth, my tongue darting in to toy with his. I rubbed myself against him, des
perate to have him inside me.

  A wicked smirk graced his face and lit up his eyes. The bastard was enjoying this slow torture.

  He dipped down and slowly licked the length of my neck. I shuddered and pushed against him, my arms around his neck and my back to the wall. His heated breath dizzied my head, and drunk on lust, I bit down on his lip again.

  He lifted me higher and I twined my legs around his waist. His eyes locked on mine and I nodded. I was pent-up and close to bursting. I couldn’t wait any longer.

  As he thrust himself inside me, my mind was seared with a numbing bliss that soaked right through me.

  His hardness was a burning spike inside that rode me higher and higher into throes of pleasure. He pounded against me, my back scraping against the wall and my kisses on his lips fevered and delirious.

  Sweat soaked my skin and drops trailed down his neck, illuminated by the moonlight. My knees trembled but I clung on to him as he thrust me against the wall over and over again.

  The pulsing inside made me crazy, waves of pleasure rolling through and knocking away thoughts, surroundings, everything except the fierce ecstasy rushing through me. All I could taste was the salt on his lips and all I could see were those piercing blue eyes intensified with pleasure. Our hair tangled together and our limbs were a jigsaw puzzle.

  I bit down on my lip, stifling the guttural groan as the pressure rose higher and higher. My thighs tensed and I leaned my head back as he brushed his lips up and down my neck.

  He throbbed inside me and I ground against him as the tightness pulsed. Closer. Closer. The pleasure built until I couldn’t stand it any longer and my insides were ready to explode. He thrust, lingering and pinning me between his body and the wall.

  The pressure burst.

  My body shuddered over and over again as I rode the waves of ecstasy rolling through me. All the frustration, all the anger, everything I had pent up for all that time was released in one blissful motion.