Siren's Song

by Heather McCollum

  A sharp pinch of panic starts in my stomach when I realize I can’t breathe fully. I’m only allowed the air that Luke grants me. His kiss becomes a possessive capture, as if he’s trying to entice my very soul out of me. I wedge my hands between his rock-hard chest and me, but I can’t move him.

  “God, get a room,” Taylin’s voice breaks into my mounting alarm. I shove hard and he finally lifts up.

  “I’ve got one already,” he growls. “It’s just annoyingly full.” His eyes glow down at me and his smile takes on the qualities of a leer.

  “Help,” I squeak and try to look beyond his huge body looming over me.

  “Lucas,” Taylin’s face moves over his shoulder. “Step back.” Luke just stares down at me. He rubs one knuckle against his wet lip as if he’s still tasting me. “Fight it,” she whispers near his ear. “You’re stronger than this.”

  Luke shakes his head in one violent snap and pivots away on the heel of his boot. He looks right at Taylin while I push against the ridiculously soft mattress to sit up. “Help her.” His voice has lost its unnatural gravel, but it now burns with sadness, guilt, and anger. He strides out of the room without looking back.

  Taylin puts her finger over her lips to warn me to stay silent. “Not a sound until he’s had a chance to get out of here, put some distance between you two.” I nod, and Carly helps me out of the bed.

  “It’s getting bad,” Carly murmurs and brushes my hair back from my face. She hands me a tissue and gestures to her eyes. I wipe the tissue across mine and realize my mascara has been smeared by a lone tear.

  Taylin shakes her head. Her eyebrows wrinkle together and her lips purse. “He loves you more each day. It doesn’t help him to stay away. It still grows.” She looks at Carly. “We’re running out of time.”

  I point to the bowl of liquid that is now redder, lighter than the fake stuff. Taylin shakes her head. “Not today. We need Mathias to help contain Lucas if it doesn’t work.”

  “He’ll be out of the hospital in a couple days,” Carly says.

  “Knock, knock!” A cheerful voice comes from the outside of Taylin’s half-closed door. She rolls her eyes.

  “Yes, Mom?” Taylin steps in front of the bowl of blood.

  Taylin’s mom holds a tray with soda cans and a plate of pizza bagels. She pushes past the door and places it on Taylin’s desk. “Thought you kids could use a snack.” She smiles brightly, but waits as if for approval. Taylin doesn’t say anything.

  I’m not allowed to talk, so I kick Carly. “Oh, uh…thanks Mrs. Banes. I love Bagel Bites.” I nod to add my silent acceptance of her gift.

  “Wonderful.” She glances around. “Luke left?”

  “Yep, thanks, Mom,” Taylin says curtly and turns back to us.

  I watch pain pinch Mrs. Banes’s face. She immediately looks ten years older as her gaze follows Taylin’s stiff back. Nausea rolls through my stomach. Mrs. Banes squeezes her hands together so hard I can see her knuckles pale.

  “Is there anything else I can get you kids? We love it when Taylin has friends over.”

  “Mom, we’re good,” Taylin cuts her off.

  “O…kay,” Mrs. Banes walks to the door. Her shoulders slump over her slender frame. “Love you, honey.” She looks back, her fingers clenched around the edge of the door. She gives Carly and me a fake little sunshine smile.

  Taylin doesn’t say anything, and eventually her mom leaves.

  “God, Taylin,” Carly voices my shock. “Can’t you try to be nicer to your mom?”

  Taylin shrugs. “I’m not mean.” She looks at us. “Like I said, the curse sucks. I doubt Maximillian thought about how many people he’d hurt.”

  Guilt paralyzes me where I’m propped like a scarecrow against Taylin’s black wall. I am the last fertile descendant of a madman. After studying the dates next to each name on the family tree, I realized that they refered to when each Siren hit menopause. A few awkward questions to Mom had confirmed that she’d had her last period last January.

  So now that my mom is no longer able to have children, my death would break the curse for all of them. Taylin would be able to feel love for her parents. Mrs. Banes’s tortured look would fade. Carolyn Whitmore would believe it when Luke told her he loved her. Matt could become anything he wanted to, instead of pretending to love his dad through football. It all hinges on me. Guilt gnaws inside, worming its way through my mind.

  Taylin’s black walls start to close in on me, and my middle feels weak and empty as if Luke took a chunk of me when he left. My breathing is stifled and I cough against the memory of the dust and humidity. Taylin and Carly are discussing the best way to store my blood. I can smell the tang of it, the iron and fresh proteins. Another wave of nausea starts and my finger throbs. With my last bit of control I grab my jacket and head to the door.

  “Gotta go,” I mumble.

  I round the side of the porch, deciding to walk home. Taylin’s house is only a couple miles from mine. I could use a good long walk in the cool, open air. I suck in through my nose, shove my hands into the deep pockets of my chocolate-colored jacket and jog. I’m halfway down Taylin’s street when the hairs on the back of my neck prickle. I’m being watched. I scan the streets and stop.

  Luke stops, too. He stands two houses away, staring at me. He makes no move to come closer and I’m afraid to talk. So I wave. He nods but doesn’t move. Now what? After a long moment I start walking down the street again. Luke turns at the same time, walking at my pace along a parallel path two houses over. His long legs stretch, taking only one step to two of mine. He disappears behind a house but reappears on the other side, at my pace. I jog. Luke jogs.

  He stares straight ahead, his eyes scanning the area. Cut, strong arms bend loosely at the elbow, a natural run, fast and predatory, like a sleek panther loping beside its dinner, waiting for it to tire. I shiver even as I appreciate the amazing way his muscles stretch and bunch in a symphony of absolute male strength. All the way home, he keeps me company. Watching. Continuing his distance. Mimicking my pace. I wave awkwardly as I run up onto my porch, my heart thudding so loud I know it must register through the dragonfly necklace. He waits until I shut the door before turning home. I watch him jog out of my driveway and across the street. His shoulders flex beneath his T-shirt as if he’s stretching them, readying them.

  I swallow in silence, afraid to call him back with even a sigh or whimper. Fear and guilt have stolen my voice. I open my lips. It’s like standing on the edge of a tall building and being so terrified of falling that you actually take a step forward and jump. One note, one line of my favorite song, and I jump to my death. The moment hangs there as Mica paws my knee. My head falls back to rest against the door. She licks my cold, clenched hand. I release my breath as I tremble and shut my lips and my eyes. In the empty blindness I wonder…how badly will it hurt?

  21

  “You can cage the singer but not the song.”

  ~Harry Belafonte

  I lean against my locker watching the normal flow of people hurrying to homeroom. My chest clenches tight under my blue turtleneck, which will surely throw Madison and Lindsey into hysterics when they see it. Luckily, frost crystallized the world last night, so it’s not that out of place.

  My line of sight dodges and weaves through the throng. My breath hitches as I see a leather jacket round the corner. My heart drops before my brain completely processes, in that brief second, that it’s only some sophomore. I know one glimpse of Luke and I’ll relax. But he isn’t here. His bike wasn’t in the parking lot. I release a silent sigh. I’ve barely spoken since last night. Carly drove us this morning in unusual quietude with that itchy look on her face. Taylin’s got to help her. It’s torture watching Carly try to remember.

  Luke doesn’t show up in homeroom and I walk numbly to chemistry. My gaze flits automatically to the back, to Taylin’s empty seat. Prickles raise the hairs on my arms and I slide in next to Kiara.

  “No Luke?” she glances to the back.


  “I guess not.”

  “Maybe’s he’s ditching with his cousin.” Kiara raises her eyebrows but I don’t take the bait.

  “Maybe,” I mumble and turn to see what hoops Mr. Perkins wants us to jump through today. Hopefully he’s teaching information I already know, since there is no way I can take in anything new with my mind whirling.

  Where could they be? Is Matt worse? Somehow, I think Carly would have found out if that were true. She’s been keeping a close watch on him. As if they were a couple, even though that’s impossible with the curse sitting between them. Guilt bites down on my already-nauseous mid-section. Another example of how my death would help someone.

  I wander from class to class, taking notes and hoping they make sense later when I re-read them. Carly slides in next to me in the cafeteria. “Neither one of them is here. Matt doesn’t know where they are. Have you tried to call them?”

  I nod, my face slack with hopelessness. “I’ve tried both, but neither of them is answering.” I look at Carly. “Do you think they left?”

  Carly shakes her head. “No. Taylin agrees that he seems even worse when he’s away from you. You know, the whole ‘absence makes the heart grow fonder’ thing.” She scans the crowded cafeteria. “Maybe they’re ditching to work on ways to break the curse with your blood.”

  “Shhh,” I whisper and glance to see who might be listening. Thank God for taco pizza. Most kids around us seem engrossed with trying to shovel it in without dropping it all over their clothes. I lower my voice. “But why wouldn’t they answer their phones?”

  Carly shrugs. “Coincidence? They both forgot to charge them with all the craziness going on?”

  I shake my head. “There are no coincidences.” My lips purse and I worry for a brief second how Carly will take my question. “Has Eric gone back to school?”

  “Uh, he’s not at home. But school’s only thirty minutes away with heavy traffic.”

  By the time drama comes around, I’ve almost walked out of Cougar Creek six times. The only thing stopping me is the fact that I don’t have a car. I’ve called Luke’s and Taylin’s phones eight or nine times each, but they aren’t picking up. Anger and frustration shoot agitated energy through me, making me snap at Lindsey when she giggles at my turtleneck. I almost bare my neck just to show her I don’t care what she thinks. Instead, I slump down in my theatre seat. When Ms. Bishop calls me up to sing, I feel so sick I start to gag a little.

  “God, Jule,” Madison yells. “Are you okay?”

  I swallow down the bile that bubbled up. “No.” God, what an epic understatement.

  Ms. Bishop walks over with a worried wrinkle of a frown. “You don’t get stage fright.”

  I let my eyes fall shut. I lean my head back, trying to relax the tension that’s propping my shoulders up like a fricking scarecrow. I inhale. I exhale. “I don’t feel well today.”

  Ms. Bishop’s voice is closer and I blink open. She’s peering in my face. “You’re pale. I think you’re working too hard.”

  Or, it could be because half my blood was drained yesterday and my boyfriend is turning into a crazed demon obsessed with spilling the blood I have left.

  “Yeah, working too hard.” I half-nod, half-shake my head.

  “You’re going to get burned out before the show.” Ms. Bishop frowns at me like I’m not taking care of myself. If she only knew. She turns away.

  “Let’s work on set cues today. I want to review all the motion blocks.” She holds her palm out toward me as if I had begun to jump up, which I hadn’t. “But you, sit, and then go home after school. Rest, relax, refresh.” She smiles as if her forced hiatus will solve everything.

  “Thanks.”

  She bends closer to me. “You’re our star, Jule. We need you to be at your best.”

  I nod. No pressure there, huh? At least Ms. Bishop isn’t someone who would benefit from my death. In fact, my sudden demise would mess up her musical and her chance to make State. Finally, one con against provoking Luke’s demonic instincts, along with the suffering of my family and oh, yes, the pain of being ripped apart.

  I droop into my seat. The rest of the cast leaves me alone. Which is good and bad. Good, because now I don’t have to deal with Madison trying to peek down my collar, and bad, because now I have lots of time to think and listen to my instincts. And my instincts are screaming that something is wrong.

  My fingers toy with the cool jade dragonfly. I hold it against my chest and feel it warm. I breathe slowly, in and out, and concentrate on the smoothness of the stone. Mentally I send out words, like a prayer. Where are you? Are you okay? What’s going on?

  A piercing word fills my head like the sharp pulse of a migraine. Danger! My eyes pop open, but I don’t see the stage or the class or anything except Luke’s tortured look. “Luke?” I murmur. His eyes glow with unnatural light as his head lolls to the side. I blink and the image is gone. “Luke?” I breathe hard as my pulse rocket-launches. Danger!

  * * *

  “What do you mean?” Carly asks as I drag her toward her car.

  “I heard Luke, somehow, through the dragonfly necklace he gave me. Come on! He’s in danger.”

  Carly jogs to keep up. “Maybe he meant that he is danger, Jule,” she says and tries to put on the brakes. “Like, ‘danger, stay away from me,’” she makes her voice lower in a terrible imitation.

  I shake my head, unwilling to dismiss my intuition. “I’m sure there is something going on.”

  “Okay, okay,” Carly says as we slide into her car. “Where to, then? Home?”

  “No. My parents think I’m at rehearsal for a while. If I go home, Mom won’t let me leave.” My mind whirls around locations. “Let’s start at Luke’s house. His parents might know where he is.”

  “Yours don’t,” Carly points out. I frown, and she revs the engine. “I’m going, I’m going.”

  The ten-minute drive to Luke’s feels like an hour. “I have this paper on Hamlet due tomorrow,” Carly says. “I forgot about it. Mom will kill me if I don’t turn it in on time.”

  “It’s okay, just let me off.”

  “But if you think you need help…”

  “I’ll call you.” I pat the cell phone she loaned me. “If Luke’s not here, I’ll walk to the creek, and then home if no luck.”

  “Hey, Mom’s supposed to be gone until tonight at some rose-cutting conference,” Carly says. “Come to my place after the creek; you can re-show me what I can’t remember and then we’ll drive to see Matt. Although he hasn’t seen Luke or Taylin today.” Her face scrunches into waves of worry. “Unless he’s covering for them for some reason.”

  I shake my head slowly. “Something’s wrong. I just feel it.”

  I jump out of her car. “Call me when you know something,” Carly yells from the window. “Stupid Hamlet,” she curses and zooms off.

  I stride up to the large front door and ring the bell while shifting from foot to foot. I release my breath when an image moves through the warped glass on the other side of the door. It opens.

  Carolyn Whitmore smiles at me with surprise on her face. She looks briefly beyond me and opens the door wider. “Hi Jule.”

  “Um, hi, Mrs. Whitmore. Is Luke home?”

  “Not yet, though I’m expecting him soon. Didn’t you see him at school?”

  The hairs on my neck prickle up like little porcupine quills. Should I rat him out? Say he wasn’t there all day? Obviously his mom thinks he was. “Uh, I missed him coming out. Carly just dropped me off.”

  “Come on in and wait for him.” She smiles. “I have some wonderful pumpkin muffins.”

  I should just leave, go to the creek, but her face looks so expectant, fragile almost. My stomach growls and I remember that I was too worried earlier to eat lunch. She laughs.

  “I think you need something in that tiny stomach of yours. Come in and have a muffin. He may have gone to see Matt. You can try calling him.”

  I let Carolyn pull me into the large entry
way. The big house is silent. Jake’s probably still at school, and Oscar must be working with the team. I follow her into the sunlit kitchen. A basket of muffins sits in the middle of the counter.

  “Maybe I’ll have one, too,” she says and pours some milk for me. “I’ve been longing for one all day, but I’ve held out. Now I have an excuse.” She winks conspiratorially like we’re having shots of whisky together instead of baked goods. I force a grin back and she accepts it.

  I peel back the paper cup off the muffin. It smells really good. I take a bite. Wow, it tastes better than it smells.

  “These are fantastic,” I say after I swallow and fill my mouth again.

  She bites into one too. “Mmmm…they sure are. Must be why Luke wolfed down three of them before school.” She laughs a little and sits in a chair at the table while she takes another bite. “Saved me having to cook breakfast. With two growing boys and Oscar, I feel like I’m cooking all the time.”

  “Yeah, my mom bakes stuff the night before, too.” I take another large bite and drink some milk. The milk tastes a little off when I swirl it in my mouth with the muffin. I rest my chin on the heel of my hand.

  “I didn’t even have to do that,” she smiles. “That lovely realtor brought them last night as part of her welcome basket.”

  I stare at Carolyn as she gestures to the living room. “And there you are.” She laughs as if a little drunk. I try to turn toward the living room, but I can’t coordinate the turn on the seat. I grip the edge of the counter as the walls of the house slide to one side.

  “There you go, Carolyn,” Patricia Ashe says, and I watch Carly’s mom lower Carolyn Whitmore’s head to the wooden table. “You just take a little nap.”

  Patricia turns to me. “Whoa, Jule.” She rushes over and helps steady me on the bar stool. She tsks. “You shouldn’t be sitting up this high after eating some of my sleepy-time muffins.”