Siren's Song (29 page)

“It's none of your business, Eric.”

“Yes, it is.”

“What are you doing here, anyway? Are you following me?”

He blinks. Isn't that an indicator that someone's planning to lie? “I saw you on TV about to sing. Then we lost the channel. I wanted to make sure you were safe.” His lips pull thin, tight. “Apparently, you were not.”

“I'm fine. Go home.” I try to see around his large frame, but he's blocking me. Where are those nosy cops now? Although if I look as bad as Eric's expression indicates, they might start asking questions, too.

“I'm taking you home.”

Yeah, right! A surge of panic squeezes through my already tensed body. “Uh…no, you're not.” Someone will stop us if he throws me over his shoulder, kicking and screaming, right?

He shakes his head as if thinking the same thing. His eyes dart left to right, as if trying to find a secluded place to abduct me. “Sorry, Eric, I have to get back to the game.” I knock loudly on the door behind me. “A little help here,” I yell toward the door just as Eric grabs my wrist. But before he can drag me off, the door yanks open. Matt jumps out while Taylin grabs my other arm. I ignore the soreness as she pulls. For a few seconds, I become the rope in a tug of war.

A few people slow down near us, eyes suspicious. Eric suddenly changes direction, and I nearly fall into the luxury box as both he and Taylin pull me inside. Matt follows, slamming the door.

“What are you doing here?” Taylin hisses. We might be in a box with a door, but the front is open to the crowds. She glances at me and her black-lined eyes open wider.

“I'm taking Jule home,” Eric growls.

“No, you're not,” Matt responds calmly.

Eric throws his hand out toward me. “Look at her! Luke did that to her.”

I cross my arms around me. Matt's eyes widen. “Are you okay?”

I nod.

“Shit,” Taylin curses.

“We'll take care of her,” Matt says.

Take care of me? Do I look that bad?

“The hell you will,” Eric insists and reaches for me. Matt grips Eric's arm. Matt's a big guy, but so is Eric. If this was a back alley, switchblades would be snapping open.

I back into the wall, letting it support me. Matt twists Eric's hand up and Taylin gasps.

“Oh my God, Mathias,” she whispers. I follow her line of sight to Eric's hand. His ring stands out on his finger, a shield over a dragonfly just like on the book in his car. Taylin steps back with me against the wall.

She is frozen. Fear changes her face to that of a frightened kid, despite the heavy goth makeup. I've never seen her like this. The sight sends chills along my already brittle spine.

Matt curses in some other language. “You're a
guardian
.” He hisses the title like it is a curse itself.

Taylin is actually trembling. “Leave here! Now!” Her voice is still strong, even if she's letting the wall hold her up.

An abrupt knocking hits the outside of the door. “Open up! What's going on in there?” It sounds like the cop from the door. Someone must have alerted the police about the hostile tug of war.

Eric stares at me even though he addresses Matt and Taylin. “If anything happens to her, I will hunt you all down and kill you.” His eyes flick up to Matt. “Slowly.” My tongue dries to the roof of my mouth and I can't swallow, can't breathe. Eric's words are no idle threat. They are an oath.

With that, Eric turns. Matt lets him walk away. Eric flings the door open. “Just making sure my sister calls home. Had my parents worried.” He shakes his head. The cop from the door pokes his head in. I finger-brush the hair around my face.

“Everything okay in here?”

“Yeah. He was just worried,” Matt says casually with a shrug. “A bit overprotective.”

The cop peers a little closer at me. “You okay, miss?”

“Yep.” I force my face into something of a relaxed smile. It's apparently sufficient. He nods and looks closer at Matt. He points a stubby finger between Taylin and him.

“Where were you two,” his gaze goes to Taylin, “during the national anthems?”

“With me,” I say. “I couldn't have sung without my friends backing me up.”

“Hmmm…” The cop's eyes narrow in suspicion, but he finally nods. “No more trouble tonight,” he warns.

“Yes, sir,” Matt says with just the right amount of respect, and the policeman turns to talk to Eric as they leave the room.

Taylin's legs give out and she slides along the wall to the floor. Matt locks the door and comes over to her. The floor suddenly looks very comfortable. I slide down, too. Taylin's head is against her knees. Matt lays his hand over it and strokes her hair.

“It's going to be okay, Tay.”

She shakes her head across the ridge of her knees. “He's a bloody guardian.”

“A guardian?” I ask quietly, not really sure if I want to know what horror reduces the toughest girl I've ever met into a trembling mess. “What exactly is that?”

Taylin lifts her eyes to mine. “Our executioner.”

Matt squeezes Taylin's knee. “Maximillian's guards.”

“One of the men who helped Maximillian?” I ask incredulously. “Eric's not two hundred years old.”

“He's not an original,” Matt answers. “But he's probably a descendant. Through our lifetimes we've run into only one other, a woman. When we all came together, she tried to befriend Taylin. She revealed a lot to Taylin when she was about to kill her.”

“Kill her?”

Taylin pushes herself up and pulls toilet paper from the small bathroom. She blows her nose, then crosses her arms over her chest. Instead of the usual tough-looking barrier, it looks more like she's hugging herself. “She knew the rest would then die soon after, because of our link. And she wasn't taking a chance that a Siren might show up. If one did, one of us might kill him or her and be free of the spell. But Mathias and Lucas got to me first.”

“What…” I stop. I don't want to know what happened to the guardian. “What did she say?”

“There's a secret society of guardians,” Matt answers. “They are descendants of the original four that witnessed the curse and then killed us the first time. Maximillian made them swear to protect his daughter and her children and all their blood. If Maximillian's bloodline ends, then so will the curse for all three of us. So they banded together and recruited more to guard Maximillian's family, watch for our resurrection and make sure none of us finds a Siren to escape the hell Maximillian created for us.”

“Wasn't it part of the plan that you kill your Siren to experience the pain Maximillian went through?”

“I think it got tweaked in the translation through the decades,” Taylin says. “Like that game ‘telephone' my cousins used to force me to play.”

“They taught their children what to look for and who they were supposed to protect. They became organized teachers of magic and history,” Matt continues.

“A frickin' skewed history,” Taylin adds with a more normal sneer.

Taylin turns my arm over and runs a fingertip over the bruises. “We need to find Luke. Do you know where he is?”

“Outside the stadium.”

“Shit,” Taylin curses softly and pushes my hair away from my neck, ducking to look closer.

“Did he…are you really okay?” Matt asks. “You look… uh…ravished?” he says the word as if he's not sure that's the right one to use.

I touch the edge of my lips. They feel swollen. I pull my hair close around my neck to hide whatever marks are there. “He…kissed me. He wasn't completely in control.”

Taylin shakes her head and eyes Matt. She looks at me. “You're damn lucky to still be walking right now.”

“Tay, not helpful,” Matt says. “Can you get her a soda or something?”

Taylin pops a tab and places an icy can in my hand. She wraps my other hand around it as if to make sure I'm not going to drop it. Diet Coke—not my preferred, but right now it's heaven. I guzzle down the icy burn of carbonation. “Thanks.” I wipe my hand across my mouth and look at my rapt audience. “Really, I'm okay.”

“Well, hell, I'm not,” Taylin says. “Maybe you're in shock. Maybe I'm in shock.”

Cheers erupt as the Blizzards score. Red hats fly through the air.

Matt stands to see the score. “Hat trick for Walline.”

“Everyone's distracted. I'd say it's time to get out of here,” Taylin suggests.

We walk casually through the milling people. I scan the sea of faces. No Eric. No Luke. “What about Luke?” I ask.

“He'll find his way home when he gets hungry,” Matt says with a chuckle. He places his arm over my shoulder. It's not weird at all, brotherly, really.

Taylin walks in front of us through the parking lot, her head scanning side to side. The light from the closest overhead lamp illuminates dents the shape of fingertips in the roof of her car. “Bloody frickin' hell!”

“Umm…it could be worse,” I say. “I sort of thought he would rip it off. So the fact that it's still intact–”

“And not punched out from the inside,” Matt adds.

“—is a good thing,” I finish.

Taylin huffs and yanks open her door. It squeaks a bit as the metal of the frame scrapes. She ducks in and my eyes shift toward the shadowy loading dock. Is he still there? Can he see us? One note from my lips and I'd know.

Matt steers me toward the back seat and covers my head as he ducks me in like a cop. His face leans in as he buckles my seatbelt. I let him because I'm just too tired to push his hands away. The stress of the night has left me flat, dull.

“He's trying very hard, Jule.”

I look up into Matt's pinched face and nod. “I witnessed it firsthand tonight.”

Matt smiles, but there is no happiness in his eyes. “He's sorry, you know.” His fingers graze my arm where my jacket hides the bruises.

“I know.”

His lips disappear inside his tight smile, and he shuts the door to climb into the front passenger seat. Taylin leaves her lights off as we exit, just in case the police are watching the lot.

We turn out onto the road and a red Camry follows. “Taylin,” I start to say.

“I see him,” she says, her voice small.

Matt shifts in his seat. “Don't worry, Tay. He won't do anything tonight. It's three against one.”

Eric follows us to my home and passes slowly as we pull into the drive. Cheery, normal light spills from the windows of the house. Taylin tosses me a scarf. “Tie this on for now, and keep your jacket on.” She pulls a hairbrush out of her glove compartment. “Here. Just smooth it out a bit. It should be enough to get you upstairs.”

“Thanks.”

Matt walks me up the steps, his gaze searching the shadows the whole time. I'm not sure who he's looking for. I don't ask. “Thanks, Matt.” I shiver. Where would I be right now if Matt and Taylin hadn't fought to tug me away from Eric?

“Get inside. Get some rest. We'll figure something out tomorrow.”

I nod and turn the knob.

“Julietta?” Mom calls as I walk in.

“Yeah, it's me. Matt wasn't feeling good, so we all came home early. My stomach's a little queasy, too, so I'm heading to bed.”

Mom walks out of the kitchen holding a glass of milk. Her eyes narrow. “You look exhausted, honey.”

It's not hard to fake a yawn behind my hand, and I let my hair drop in front of my face. “Yeah, I'm going up.”

Dad yells goodnight as I walk out of the entryway. “Night, Dad!” I yell back.

My room is dark when I turn the knob and walk in. Prickles dance up my back. Did Mom shut my door? It's an ancient house, so the electrical plugs are not in practical places. My light switch is wired to my clock radio so I cross the black and gray shadows to where my lamp waits on the far side of my bed. I sit on the edge in the dark, my fingers clenched into the hyper-soft, fur-like throw across the mattress.

“Hello?” I say into the sharp silence and click on the light. It's a really good thing that I'm already sitting, or I probably would have fallen on my butt. Luke stands in the corner, hands stuffed into the pockets of his jeans. His head is tipped forward, eyes closed.

“Luke!” I whisper-shout and stand up. Only his lips move.

“I am so sorry, Jule.” I stop, the backs of my knees falling against the bed at his tone. “I…” he swallows. “How bad… did I hurt you?” His words burn as if a slowly scorching agony sits within him. I can almost smell the smoke.

I step closer. The short sleeves of his T-shirt are pulled up enough to show smooth, tanned skin, no coiling tattoos. I touch his shoulder with one hand and he flinches. He shakes his head, and the toussled waves of his hair brush around his jaw.

“I'm fine. Really.”

He opens his dark eyes. Pain like I've never seen before is reflected in them. Aren't the eyes a mirror of the soul? “I hurt you.”

“Barely.”

Luke's hand hesitates, but then brushes my hair behind my shoulder. He gently tugs Taylin's scarf from around my neck. I watch his face pinch and his jaw clamp shut as the soft material pools at my feet. I have yet to see the marks he left there. I don't need to; I can see them in his tortured expression. His large hands work my jacket off my shoulders to join the scarf. His fingers trail along the skin of my upper arms. He shakes his head slightly and looks up into my eyes. “I will never forgive myself.”

“God, Luke,” I plead, “you stopped yourself from attacking me.”

“What do you call this?”

I try to smile, but my lips twitch instead. “Unchecked passion.” My little joke falls flat with the small pile of clothes on the floor.

Luke's hand rakes through his hair, making it stand out in gorgeous disarray like a model on the cover of GQ. He rubs his face as if trying to wash off the nightmare he's living. I feel so helpless. My heart aches for him and all I want to do is throw myself in his arms. But it might only make things harder on him.