“But they aren’t girls,” Brian growled. “They’re monsters and … it takes all my strength not to go up there and settle this for you. Because I know I can’t. No matter how badly I want to take your place, to save you from all of this, I can’t.”
“Dad, you’re doing everything you can do. You’re supporting me, and you’re helping me.” Gemma reached over and took his hand.
“But it doesn’t feel like enough. As long as you’re in danger, anything I do will never be enough,” Brian insisted. “So if the safest place for you is going to that play, pretending everything is fine, while that friend of yours gathers information, then that’s what you need to do. Do you understand me?”
Gemma lowered her eyes and nodded. “I do.”
“We’ll solve this, Gemma,” Harper promised her. “And we have a clear course of action now—find Diana, the goddess who helped Bernie’s Thalia become mortal. And if Lydia is related to Audra, the soothsayer who helped Thalia find Diana, then Lydia might know something.”
“Do you think this Diana will know how to break the curse?” Brian asked.
“I don’t know,” Harper admitted. “But she knew how to free Thalia from her being a muse, so she must know something.”
“So those are your leads?” Brian asked. “Trying to find Audra or Diana?”
“Yep.” Gemma touched the journal sitting on the table. “And, hopefully, this book will lead us to them.”
THIRTEEN
Glimmer
“We should stop there!” Nathalie pointed to a McDonald’s and leaned over quickly, so the seat belt locked in place, and she glanced down at it in irritation. She tried to unbuckle it, but she didn’t even have the hand coordination to push the button anymore.
That’s why she only wore pants with elastic waistbands and shoes with Velcro or slip-ons. On the outside, she might have looked like an ordinary woman in her early forties, other than her penchant for fuchsia leggings and teen heartthrob T-shirts, but her brain injury had left her impaired in many ways.
“Becky said you already had lunch,” Harper reminded her mother as she drove past the McDonald’s.
They’d only made it five minutes outside of Briar Ridge, where Nathalie lived in a group home, and Harper was already wondering if she’d made a mistake. She glanced up in the rearview mirror to see how Daniel was doing in the backseat, but he seemed to be taking it all in stride.
Their initial meeting had actually gone really well. It was the first time that Daniel and Nathalie had met. Since Nathalie could be pretty boy crazy sometimes, Harper had been afraid that she’d throw herself at Daniel or something. But Nathalie had been so excited about leaving that she hardly made a fuss about him.
While Harper had been hoping that Nathalie would talk to him a bit more than she had, she figured it might be better this way, so Daniel didn’t get too overloaded right away. He’d have plenty of chances in the future for her to hit on him.
“I haven’t had a burger in so long,” Nathalie insisted, and slumped back in her seat.
“I’m sure you’ve had burgers where you live, Mom,” Harper told her calmly.
“But I haven’t gone out for so long.” Nathalie continued to pout.
“Maybe after the play,” Harper suggested. If things went well, Harper had considered taking her mom out for supper, but it really depended on how she was doing. “We don’t want to be late, though.”
“What are we going to see again?” Nathalie asked, and her mood seemed to lighten.
“The Taming of the Shrew,” Harper said even though she’d already told her four times today. Nathalie had a hard time with her short-term memory. “It’s Gemma’s play.”
Nathalie cocked her head. “Isn’t she too young to be in a play?”
“No.” Harper paused, then looked over at her mom. “How old do you think Gemma is?”
“I don’t know.” Nathalie shrugged. “Seven?”
Harper swallowed. “That’s how old she was before the accident.”
“Oh.” Nathalie stared out the window at the highway and let it sink in. “That’s right. I’ve been getting things mixed up lately.”
“It’s okay, Mom.” Harper gave her a reassuring smile. “Everybody gets confused sometimes.”
Nathalie didn’t remember much before the accident, and she hardly ever mentioned anything about the girls’ being little or anything that happened before. But that seemed to be changing.
While Nathalie had been rushing around the group home looking for her purse before they left, Harper had a chance to talk to the head of staff, Becky. Becky had said that there’d been a subtle in change in Nathalie over the last two weeks.
Nathalie seemed to be having bouts where she could remember things. One afternoon, she’d said that she had to get going, so she could get home and make supper for her husband and kids. When Becky had tried to ask her more about her family, Nathalie had appeared confused and changed the subject.
Another morning, Nathalie got up early and got ready. The staff asked where she was going, and Nathalie said that she had to be at work early to do the quarterly reports. Before the accident, Nathalie had been an accountant, but she hadn’t mentioned anything about that in years.
Hearing all this from Becky made Harper feel guilty for not visiting her mother last week. Harper and Gemma usually came out every Saturday, but last Saturday, they’d gone up to Sundham to show Lydia the scroll and hadn’t been able to make it.
When they’d visited before, they’d brought along their dad, and Harper wondered if seeing Brian again had triggered something in Nathalie. But she had seen him other times in the past and he’d never jogged her memory before. Nathalie had even lived at home for a short time after the accident. And then, she hadn’t remembered anything about him.
Becky assured Harper that she didn’t need to feel bad about missing one visit. Nathalie didn’t seem upset or agitated by the resurgence of memories. In fact, Becky thought she was doing better, and her headaches hadn’t been flaring up either.
Usually, a couple times a week, Nathalie would suffer painful migraines, and no medication had been able to help her so far. But Nathalie hadn’t complained of any head pain in two weeks.
Her mother was obviously going through some changes, and once this mess with Gemma was finally taken care of, Harper vowed to devote more time to seeing her.
“We should stop there.” Nathalie pointed to an ice-cream place advertised on a billboard. “They have the best ice cream there. When Brian and I were first dating, we used to go get ice cream all the time.”
Harper’s grip tightened on the steering wheel, and she kept her eyes fixed on the highway in front of her, afraid that if she said something, looked the wrong way, that it would break it. She held her breath, waiting for Nathalie to say more and finish the memory.
Because in that moment, in those few seconds when her mom was talking about dating Brian, it was like she was a normal mom. Harper was just like any other girl, and Nathalie was just like any other mom, talking about her younger days.
But when Nathalie didn’t say anything else, Harper knew she had to keep the conversation going if she wanted to hang on to the moment a little longer.
“You and … and Brian?” Harper licked her lips and gave her mom a sidelong glance. “You remember dating?”
“What?” Nathalie faced her, blinking. “Brian? Who’s Brian?” She turned around and looked at Daniel in the backseat. “Oh, is that you?”
“No, I’m Daniel.” He smiled at Nathalie, but his eyes flitted over to Harper, checking to see if he’d said the right thing.
“And you’re Harper’s boyfriend?” Nathalie asked.
Daniel nodded. “Yeah, that’s right.”
Nathalie sat back in her seat and shook her head. “I never dated him, Harper. What are you talking about?”
“You said Brian,” Harper pressed on, hoping to help her mom recapture the memory. “You said that when you were dating Brian, you went ou
t for ice cream.”
“I don’t know any Brians.” Nathalie’s tone had taken on a hard edge, and Harper knew that her mom was getting irritated. Nathalie had been known to fly into a rage when she was contradicted. “Are you teasing me? I don’t like it when people make fun of me.”
“No, Mom, I’m not teasing you,” Harper said gently. “I’m sorry. I just misheard you.”
“Are we there yet? This car ride is taking forever,” Nathalie whined.
Harper sighed. “We’ll be there soon.”
For the first time in a very long time, Harper had seen a glimmer of her mom. She knew she was still in there, buried somewhere in damaged brain tissue and misfiring synapses. The woman who had sung to her when she was sick, who had made her school lunches just the way she liked them, and always got her just what she wanted for her birthday, that woman had to still be in there.
And it wasn’t until that moment, when Harper had caught that glimmer, that she realized she’d been hanging on to the hope that her mom would come back. She thought she’d resigned herself to Nathalie as she was now, but she hadn’t.
While Harper would always love Nathalie, no matter what she remembered or how she acted, there was no changing the fact that she still desperately missed her mom and wanted to talk to her again.
FOURTEEN
Taming
Gemma wiped the powder from her face and stared at her reflection underneath the bright bulbs that lined the mirror. The dressing room smelled overpoweringly of roses since Thea had gotten half a dozen bouquets after the last three performances.
They’d just finished up the evening show, so everyone was free for the night. The hallway outside was alive with noise and the excited chatter of all the cast and crew preparing to go out and celebrate. There seemed to be some kind of euphoria that they were all experiencing, a high from a production well done.
But Gemma didn’t feel any of that. In the early show, she had a little bit, when she saw her mother sitting in the front of the theater with Harper, applauding every time Gemma came out onstage. She’d felt an exuberance and pride then, but it hadn’t lasted long.
Now, with everyone bustling around, changing into street clothes, cleaning up, and making plans, Gemma felt like she was moving in slow motion. The world seemed to rush around her, and all she could do was stare ahead vacantly.
She barely even recognized herself anymore, and it wasn’t just the glow of her skin or glisten of her hair from the sirens’ curse. There was a hardness in her expression, and a blankness in her eyes. It was that look—the emptiness that had edged its way into her golden eyes—that she saw reflected back in Thea’s emerald eyes.
And Gemma realized that’s what resignation must look like. And compromise. And loneliness. It was all the small things she had given up, all the little parts of herself that she’d let Penn take away from her, so she could survive, so her family and friends could survive.
If she didn’t break free from this curse soon, then she never really would. If she gave enough of herself away, eventually she’d never be able to get herself back.
“So are you coming or not?” Thea asked, and Gemma became aware that she’d been talking for a while. Gemma had just tuned her out.
“What?” Gemma asked, and turned away from the mirror to look back at Thea.
She’d changed out of her Renaissance costume and slipped into a formfitting dress. Her red hair had been pulled up, and her heavy stage makeup washed off. Then Gemma noticed that it was nearly silent, meaning that most everyone had gone, and she wondered how long she’d been staring off into space.
“What is going on with you?” Thea asked in her low rasp, and narrowed her eyes.
“Nothing.” Gemma glanced down at her costume, the fabric suddenly feeling heavy and stiff, and she pushed back her chair. “I need to get changed.”
“I know. I asked you why you hadn’t changed yet like ten minutes ago, and you never answered me,” Thea said.
“Sorry.” Gemma ran her hand through her tangles of hair and lowered her eyes. “My head was a million miles away, I guess.”
“Yeah, I guess so,” Thea agreed.
“Will you help me?” Gemma asked, and turned her back to Thea, so she could unhook the many fasteners of the gown.
“So where was your head?” Thea asked as she began to undo the costume.
“I don’t know.” Gemma lowered her eyes, so Thea couldn’t meet her gaze in the mirror. “Just elsewhere.”
“Were you thinking about the scroll?” Thea asked, her voice barely above a whisper.
“No,” Gemma answered honestly.
She probably should’ve been thinking about it, but she’d been driving herself insane trying to analyze the scroll and now the journal.
There had been a setback with the journal, too, and that helped account for Gemma’s current listlessness. She didn’t want to tell Thea about that, though. Thea’d already gone out on a limb to help, and she didn’t need to burden her with added worry and frustration.
Besides, it gave her plausible deniability. If Penn ever cornered Thea and demanded to know about Gemma’s activities, Thea could answer honestly that she didn’t know.
Since Gemma was busy with the play, and Harper was with Nathalie, Marcy had agreed to take the journal out to Lydia’s so she could try to translate the back parts. When Marcy had stopped by to pick it up, Harper had asked her if she knew anything about one of their big leads on being able to find Diana—Audra Panning.
Marcy did know something about Lydia’s great-grandmother Audra, but it wasn’t good news. She had died years ago.
One of their biggest hopes of finding the goddess was dead. It seemed like anytime Gemma thought she’d be able to break the curse, something happened that would make it more difficult.
“Have you found out anything more?” Thea asked.
“I don’t think there’s anything more to find out,” Gemma said, admitting her greatest fear.
“I told you that,” Thea said, but she sounded apologetic.
“Thea!” Liv’s voice wafted down the hall, her song seeming to penetrate through everything.
It should have been a lovely sound. Liv wasn’t quite the enchantress that Lexi had been with her song, but her voice was on a par with Penn’s, which even Gemma found seductive when Penn was really giving it her all.
But for some reason, when Liv sang, it sent chills down Gemma’s spine. Her words had a beautiful velvet layer, but beneath it, there was a supernatural quality that felt like nails on a chalkboard.
“Thea,” Liv called again, and Thea groaned, making Gemma wonder if Liv’s voice had the same effect on Thea as it did on her.
“I’m in the dressing room!” Thea shouted.
“Penn sent me down to get you because you’re taking forever.” Liv leaned against the doorframe and tousled her blond hair. “And I want to get out of here.”
“You guys have big plans for this evening?” Gemma asked.
She slid back to the corner of the dressing room, where she planned to do a kind of dressing gymnastics. There was no divider or privacy in the room, and Gemma had to attempt to pull on her T-shirt and jean shorts around the costume, so Liv didn’t get a peek at more than Gemma wanted to show.
It was strange because Gemma had changed in front of Thea and the other actresses in the play several times today, not to mention all the times she’d gone swimming with the sirens, and they’d seen her in various stages of undress.
So it wasn’t the being seminude part that bothered her. It was Liv, and her large, hungry eyes, and the way Gemma would be able to feel them searching her. Just thinking about it made Gemma feel violated, and she hastily pulled her shirt on over the dress.
“You didn’t tell her about our plans?” Liv shook her head and made a clicking sound with her tongue. “That’s not very sisterly, Thea.”
Thea leaned back against the makeup counter, folded her arms over her chest, and rested her weary gaze on Gemma. �
�I didn’t think you’d want to join us. We’re going out of town.”
“To a club filled with tasty boys,” Liv added with an excited giggle.
Gemma knew exactly what that meant—they were going to feed.
“I think I’ll pass,” she said as she fumbled with her shorts, but she could already feel her stomach rumbling at the thought.
Over the past week or so, she’d been shoveling down as much human food as she possibly could. But none of that did anything to satiate the more primal appetite that was growing inside her. It had been exactly two months since she’d last eaten, as the hunger pains reminded her every day.
Soon, it would be the autumnal equinox, and Thea warned Gemma that she would need to feed by then. Her siren’s charms and power grew weaker the longer she went. Her voice wasn’t throaty like Thea’s, but it didn’t have the same silky edge that Penn’s or even Liv’s had.
Thea had once gone so long without feeding that she caused irreparable damage, making her sultry voice huskier and deeper for the rest of eternity. Thea refused to say much about the months she’d gone without eating other than telling Gemma that it had been excruciating, and she’d gone absolutely mad with hunger.
But Gemma didn’t need any of those warnings. She could feel it in her stomach, in her bones, in her very being gnawing at her day in and day out. A constant reminder that her body would make her feed whether she wanted to or not.
The dress was sliding down as she tried to pull the shorts up under it, and she almost fell over before successfully getting them up around her waist. When she’d finished, she stepped out of her dress and exhaled deeply, blowing back the hair that had fallen in her face.
“But isn’t that kinda dangerous?” Gemma asked, which was about as close as she could get to talking them out of it. She hated the idea of their feeding, of killing people, but she didn’t know how to stop them.
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