by Jackie May
Table of Contents
TITLE
SOCIAL MEDIA
BOOKS BY JACKIE MAY
COPYRIGHT
CHAPTER 1
CHAPTER 2
CHAPTER 3
CHAPTER 4
CHAPTER 5
CHAPTER 6
CHAPTER 7
CHAPTER 8
CHAPTER 9
CHAPTER 10
CHAPTER 11
CHAPTER 12
CHAPTER 13
CHAPTER 14
CHAPTER 15
CHAPTER 16
CHAPTER 17
CHAPTER 18
CHAPTER 19
CHAPTER 20
CHAPTER 21
CHAPTER 22
CHAPTER 23
CHAPTER 24
CHAPTER 25
CHAPTER 26
CHAPTER 27
CHAPTER 28
CHAPTER 29
THANKS FROM THE AUTHOR
ABOUT JACKIE MAY
by Jackie May
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BOOKS BY JACKIE MAY
NOVELLAS:
My Soul to Keep
Urban Fantasies
UNDERWORLD BOOKS:
Nora Jacobs Series (complete)
Don’t Rush Me
Don’t Cheat Me
Don’t Bait Me
Don’t Tempt Me
Shayne Davies Series
The Devil to Pay
Magic in Those Eyes
Shayne Davies #3 (Mid 2020)
Copyright © 2020 by Kelly Oram
Edition 1.0
Edited by Jennifer Henkes (www.literallyjen.com)
All rights reserved. Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of both the copyright owner and the above publisher of this book.
The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.
ISBN 978-1-7341812-2-7
There are only three kinds of men in the world now: those who fear me, those who want me, and those who weren’t in the club the night I ensnared half the city’s underworld population with my siren’s song. Though most of that last option still fears me or wants me, a few of them are simply curious.
There’s only one type of woman: those who hate me.
The couple standing across the bar from me now falls into the fear and hate categories. I plaster my friendliest, most innocent smile on my face as I pass them their ordered drinks, but it does nothing to alleviate their moods. “Happy New Year,” I offer.
The male—practically cowering behind his female companion—won’t meet my eyes, and the female glares at me as she pays for the drinks like she thinks I’m going to steal her man. They walk off without a word, and I step back with a sigh.
I hate that people now avoid me or glare at me in contempt, judging me because of my potential to be evil instead of how I actually act. I’m a nice person. People like me. I’m approachable. At least, I used to be.
“What’s wrong, baby sister-in-law?”
My mood lifts at the nickname, and I manage a small smile for my boss. I’m not married to Wulf’s brother, so not technically an in-law, but ever since I started dating Rook and he moved into the den with me, Wulf’s claimed me as the little sister he never had. I let him. Blood or not, he’s family, and I like having a big brother.
He puts his arm around my shoulder, and I lean into his side hug, soaking up his affection and using it to bolster my mood. “I don’t know if I’m going to be able to keep this job.”
“But you love this job.”
It’s true. I never considered bartending until Terrance dropped the job in my lap, but I quickly found a home-away-from-home here at the club. Once I stopped fearing underworlders, I loved interacting with them. I’m surprisingly social, and I love chatting with people. That’s why the siren stigma is so depressing. “I make people uncomfortable.”
Wulf frowns. His eyes drift in the direction the glaring couple walked off in. “Screw those assholes,” he says. “You’re the kindest, friendliest, most caring person I’ve ever met. If they can’t see that, then they don’t deserve to know you.”
Another small smile ghosts across my face. Wulf is the best. But his compliments, as much as I love them, don’t quite take the sting out of all the rejection I’ve been dealing with the last couple of weeks.
“People will get used to the idea,” he promises me. “It’s only been a few weeks. Don’t quit your job. Stay here; stay visible. Soon enough, people will see that you’re not going to turn into some psycho man-eater, and then everyone will love you again. If you quit and hide yourself away, the gossip will only get worse, and people will become truly afraid of you. It’s been nice not having anyone try to kill you these last couple weeks. I’d rather like to keep it that way.”
I snort, but there’s some sound logic in his words. I superstitiously knock my knuckles on the wood bar. Wulf grins and gives me one more supportive squeeze before he lets me go. He kisses my temple and whispers “Hang in there, kiddo” before stepping away to finally acknowledge the group of waiting customers we’ve both been ignoring.
I take a deep breath and steel my nerves before getting back to work. A man with the face of an angel, golden hair, and oddly beautiful pale pink eyes gives me a bright, mischievous smile. It’s the first truly friendly smile I’ve received all night. I’m guessing he’s in the rare third category of men. He may be interested in me, but it’s not the needy, drugged-up want that the men I enchanted usually display. He seems too casual, and there’s too much curiosity in his eyes.
The man is fey, though not a type I’m familiar with. I can’t identify his specific species, but he’s clearly of the Seelie Court. Summer fey tend to be much more cheery and playful than the dark, broody winter fey (see: Illren and Terrance).
His friendliness isn’t surprising. The fey are the only underworlders who seem to like the new development of my siren status. Sirens are revered among the fey, and most of the fey are excited and curious about me, considering sirens were thought to be extinct.
The man looks me over, sighs wistfully, and holds a hand over his heart. “Sing me your song, fair maiden, and lay claim to my heart for all eternity.”
I suppress a smile and raise an eyebrow at him. “Really? That’s what you’re going with? A bit over-the-top, don’t you think?”
He flashes me a beautiful dimpled smile. “But you still found it charming.”
He’s right. If I had to sum him up in a single word, charming would definitely be an apt description. And pretty. He’s very young Brad Pitt. “I’ll never admit to it,” I say with a laugh. I nod my head toward the wall of alcohol behind me. “What’s your poison?”
He purses his lips as he scans the options. “How about a shot of Summer Breeze for me…” He meets my gaze, and his grin widens. “And one for the beautiful lady as well.”
I reach for the bottle of popular fey alcohol and pour a single shot. “Thanks, but I don’t drink.”
“Dinner, then,” the man says when I slide the shot glass across the bar. “Or lu
nch,” he amends quickly when he detects my coming rejection. “Coffee? I’d settle for getting coffee.”
I shake my head and chuckle. “I’m flattered, but I’m already in a relationship.” Or three, but who’s counting?
“How many?” the man asks.
“How many what?”
“How many men are you involved with?”
I blink at him. Apparently someone is counting.
“It’s five, right?” he asks. “Terrance, Mr. Kovros, the vampire, the sorcerer, and the wolf? Or is it six? No one is really sure what’s going on with you and Agent Gorgeous, but there’s some speculation there, too.”
My face heats up. It turns out that sirens keeping harems of men is pretty common knowledge in the underworld, or, at least, it is among the fey. My love life has been one of this city’s main gossip topics for weeks now. “Not that it’s any of your business,” I say, trying not to be too annoyed because he’s one of the few people who’s been friendly to me tonight, and I really can’t begrudge him his curiosity. I’d be intrigued, too, if I were in his shoes. “But it’s only three—Parker, Oliver, and Rook. Terrance is my family, and Illren is a pain in my ass. They’re clan, but I’m not dating them. Gorgeous is just a friend.”
The fey’s eyes light up. “Surely you intend to take more than three lovers.” He slides his glass back across the bar to me. “May I have another?”
I pour him another shot and raise an eyebrow at him. “You don’t think three lovers is enough?” Not that I’m actually lovers with any of my boyfriends yet, but, you know, same difference.
The man downs his shot, waits out the sting, and shakes his head. “The sirens of old were known to have upwards of a dozen lovers, sometimes double that. Giselle has seven herself, and a mermaid’s allure isn’t half as strong as a siren’s.”
Damn. Two dozen lovers? That is a lot of men. I try to picture it and can’t. “Yeah, that’s not happening. I can barely handle the few I’ve got.”
“All I’m asking for is a chance to see if we hit it off. I promise not to be trouble.”
The man clasps his hands under his chin in a begging gesture and gives me puppy-dog eyes. I smile despite myself. He’s good—persistent and over-the-top dramatic, yet somehow still endearing. “I don’t believe you,” I tease. “The playful glint in your eyes screams trouble.” Actually, it screams naughty. Like a wily child that knows he’s cute and uses that to get away with stuff.
The man’s eyes sparkle, and his smile turns devious. “Only the good kind of trouble. Promise.”
He hands me a business card that reads: Charlie Shelton, CEO and Head Love Doctor at Love Connections Inc.
I snort. “Love Doctor?”
“I’m a cupid. Love is the name of my game.” Charlie puffs up his chest. “I run the largest dating service in Michigan and have a personal success rate of 100 percent.”
Cupids are a thing? Who knew? I look the man over with a smirk. Charming Charlie does seem like the perfect cupid. “Very fitting. So…do you shoot all your clients with love arrows?”
His mischievous grin lights up his face again. “It’s more a power of suggestion. And I only use it when I see the spark of potential in two people. I don’t make people fall in love; I only point them in the right direction or nurture feelings that are already there. I introduce compatible people to each other and help others get past whatever is stopping them from following their hearts.”
“Huh. That actually sounds nice.”
He leans over the bar a little, like he’s about to confess a secret to me. “Well, I’m a nice guy. And fun, and charming, and sexy, right? Enough that you want to give me a chance. Half an hour and a cup of coffee is all I ask. I’ll even interview with all of your men first, if it would make you feel better. Your particular harem has a reputation for being very…serious. I could help lighten things up a little. Be the fun in your life…”
I can’t help but chuckle at his description of my clan. He’s not exactly wrong about them. Both Oliver and Rook can be lighthearted and fun-loving in the right circumstances, but overall we are a more serious group of people. I usually have to go to Ren or Nick if I want fun and crazy. Not that I mind my reserved family. I’m not exactly the life of the party myself.
Charlie’s cheeriness is a breath of fresh air after the tense couple of weeks I’ve had, but I still shake my head. “I’m sorry. You seem like a great guy, but I really am not looking for any more men in my life.”
Charlie sighs in defeat, but my rejection doesn’t kill his good mood. “I had to try,” he says. “But if you’re going to reject me, could you at least do me one small favor?”
I lift a brow, curious what this stranger could possibly want from me if not my affection.
“Sing to me?”
My jaw drops.
Charlie rubs the back of his neck as though he’s nervous or embarrassed by his request. He shrugs helplessly and says, “I was out of town a few weeks ago when you entranced the entire club, so I missed out.”
I blink a couple times and shake my head as if to clear the incredulity from it. “Are you saying you want me to work my siren mojo on you?”
I’m shocked by the request, and I know I should be appalled, but for some reason I’m tempted. Something stirs inside me, as if my power has a mind of its own and knows it’s being requested. It wants to come out and play. That is definitely not a good idea, even if he is asking me to do it. I stamp down the feeling and focus on Charlie.
Charlie nods. “My friends said it was like nothing they’ve ever felt before. They described it as being drunk on true love. One of them even dumped his girlfriend afterward because he realized what he had with her was nothing even close to love. He’s determined to find the real thing now. I’ve been trying to get him to dump that toxic bitch for a decade, and in just five minutes you helped him gain clarity. You showed him love. He’s talked of nothing else since.”
I’m stunned by his speech. In a way, it makes sense. Nick explained a siren’s song to be a call to the heart. It would also explain the number of men desperate for my attention since the incident. But still, to think that I made people experience the feeling of true love is… I don’t know how I feel about it. I also don’t know how I feel about the excited look Charlie is giving me. “So you’re what,” I ask, “looking for a little clarity yourself?”
It’s so wrong that I’m entertaining this idea. There’s no way I should use my power on him. Especially not in a club full of people who wouldn’t understand that Charlie asked me to do it. I’d make even more enemies. Still…I’m curious. Part of me wants to do it—is excited at the thought of tapping into my power and putting this man under my spell.
I shake my head, trying to clear it of the insane thoughts. When Charlie has my attention again, his face becomes completely serious for the first time since he walked up to the bar. “I just want to experience it. I want to know what it feels like. I help people find love all the time, and they always seem so happy.”
My brows hit the ceiling. “You’re a professional matchmaker—a cupid—and you’ve never been in love?”
His shoulders slump, and he lets out a long, heavy sigh. “I’ve felt love through the bonds people have with each other, but never in regards to myself. I can’t use my powers on myself. I want to find a mate and settle down, but I’m too optimistic about love. Too trusting. I’ve been taken advantage of by greedy women more times than I’d like to admit. I want to know what true love feels like so that I can be smarter about who I date and avoid getting hurt in the future.”
I feel for the poor guy, and a strange protectiveness rises up in me. I suddenly want to go track down every woman who’s ever taken advantage of him and kick their asses for daring to hurt my cupid.
I flinch. Where the hell did that come from? Why am I feeling so possessive? He’s not mine. I don’t even know him, and even though he’s handsome, I definitely don’t want him. I have enough men in my life already. I don’t need
any more. But as I stand here trying to convince myself of this, something deep inside me tells me that I’m lying to myself.
The power in my gut finally pushes its way to the surface. It’s dark and seductive, and I find myself wanting to use it on Charlie. This man is mine. I want to claim him. Own him. And I can. All I have to do is call him with my song and he will be mine forever.
Before I even know what I’m doing, I lock gazes with Charlie and unleash my power on him. He gasps softly, and his pupils dilate. His reaction spurs me on. I up my intensity. “Mine,” I whisper.
“Nora!”
A deep, rumbly voice calls my name—Terrance—but I can’t look away from Charlie. My power has as much of a hold on me as it does on him.
“Nora!” Rook is suddenly at my side, too. He gently grips my arm and starts to shake me. “What are you doing?” he whisper-hisses. “You can’t use your song on him. Especially not in public. Do you want to get yourself killed?”
“He is mine,” I growl, ignoring the tug on my arm. I barely recognize myself.
Charlie shivers and nods slowly. “Yes. I am yours. Forever. And you are mine.”
Something inside me purrs with satisfaction, some kind of inner beast. I can’t seem to rein in my power. My siren is strong and hungry, and she wants to devour the man in front of me.
“What’s wrong with her?” Rook asks.
“I don’t know,” Terrance replies, “but we need to snap her out of it and get her out of here.”
As Charlie and I stare at one another, a different kind of power that I recognize as fey magic swirls around the two of us, coating my skin like a warm blanket. A shocked gasp sounds behind me. I’m not sure if it’s Rook or Terrance, and I’m too transfixed to care. The magic jumps from me to Charlie, binding us together with a golden cord. It wraps around our wrists and absorbs into our skin. The moment the magic is gone, I feel a swarm of emotions that are not my own. I’m flooded with awe and joy that I know belongs to Charlie. We’re connected somehow, and I have a sinking feeling that the damage is permanent.
“What’s going on?” Rook demands. “What the hell was that?”
