Siren’s Song Page 10

  “What the hell?” I squealed, my hand over my heart. That had been unexpected.

  “It’s just the ghost.”

  Rigid, I turned to Nathan and saw he was serious. “You really mean it? The ghost?”

  He shrugged. “Yes.”

  I gulped and raced out of the lighthouse.

  Fifteen

  Nathan

  As soon as we left the lighthouse, Brooke let out a long, relieved breath. I could tell she felt better away from the ghost.

  Her shoulders relaxing, she took off her shoes and ran to the beach.

  “What are you doing?” I called, dashing after her. In my mind, I saw the dream. I saw her jumping into the water, laughing at me, driving me crazy.

  Spelling me.

  “Having fun,” was all she said.

  Was she in a trance again? Would she jump into the ocean if I didn’t stop her? “Brooke, wait.”

  She stepped on the sand and stopped. Like she had done at the lighthouse, she opened her arms, lifted her chin, and smiled, just enjoying the fresh, salty air. The orange and pink light from the sunset coming from behind us soaked her fair skin, giving her a golden glow.

  She really was beautiful.

  I felt a faint pull inside my chest. Yeah, yeah, it was her power, I knew that, but it had nothing to do with how I felt right now. It had nothing to do with the urge that assaulted me and made me want to run my hand through her luscious hair, that made me want to reach over and caress her perfect face, that made me want to capture her lips with mine.

  Still smiling, Brooke peeked at me from under her lashes, and it was like being punched in the gut. By all that was holy, she had me wrapped around her finger, and I was sure it was without her powers.

  Breaking the stare that left me speechless, breathless, Brooke looked down at her feet. She dug her toes into the sand. Shit, the sand was probably cold like ice.

  “You’re gonna get sick,” I said, wrapping one of blankets over her shoulders.

  “It’s not that cold,” she protested, though she held on to the blanket. “The sand, I mean, feels nice.” She sauntered to the water and dipped her toes in.

  I held my breath. Whatever was happening felt too much like an echo from my dream. “Okay, now it has to be cold.”

  “Just a little bit.”

  I really doubted that.

  I looked at the setting sun. It would be dark soon and it was best if she was at the inn by then. If she wanted—and Mrs. Finnygood allowed—I could stay with her for a little while, but I wanted her safe inside before night fell.

  Willow Harbor was a nice town, but it was full of supernaturals, and some of them were affected by the night or the moon.

  “Come on,” I said, beckoning her to the car. “We should go.”

  “Give me a minute more. It’s so nice here.” She stomped on the water, like a kid who was first playing in the ocean. “I missed it.”

  I hadn’t thought about that. She had been gone for five years, and yesterday I stopped her from going in the ocean. As a siren, the ocean made her feel better, happier, complete.

  I could give her a minute more.

  Brooke turned to face me and bit her lower lip. I stared at that mouth, wondering if she knew what it did to me, that she was testing my will.

  She kicked the water, sending thick drops all over my pants.

  Just like in my dream.

  My chest constricted. “What the …” My words of pretend outrage died on my throat when I saw the huge smile on her lips. Like this, with her back to the ocean and the setting sun bathing her face, she looked like a muse from a painting. A model from a photoshoot. An angel in heaven.

  My heart squeezed, and I realized once more that the pull I felt toward her, toward her power, was nothing compared to the way I really felt about her.

  Which was crazy since I met her only yesterday. Well, technically, I met her five years ago, but only yesterday I started talking and spending time with her and getting to know her.

  She kicked the water, and this time the drops landed on my arms and chest.

  “Oh, it’s on.” I ran to her but stopped at the edge of the water. Laughing out loud, she advanced farther into the ocean. “That’s not fair.”

  “Then come in.”

  I snorted. “The water is probably freezing.”

  “It isn’t.” A provocative smile sat at her lips. The way she looked at me, like she could touch my soul … I was a goner.

  Aware I was out of my mind, I took off my shoes, folded the hem of my pants up, and lunged after her. I let out a loud groan at the contact of the icy water.

  “It is freezing!” I yelled.

  Brooke laughed, a happy, contagious sound.

  I was in the rain, now I was gonna get wet. Groaning, I sprinted after her.

  Brooke yelped and ran from me. But my legs were longer and I was faster. I wound my arm around her waist and pulled her back to my chest, lifting her from the water. She yelped and laughed at the same time, a curious sound that had me smiling.

  She squirmed, making me drop her, but I didn’t lose my grip on her. I couldn’t help but wonder if my dream had gone on, would I see this? Brooke and I playing in the water? Her smiling and laughing with me? Me falling for her?

  In the circle of my arms, she pivoted and looked up at me, smiling wide. Her eyes met mine and I stopped breathing.

  She was too close, almost all of her body touching mine, my arm tight against her thin waist, her hands on my upper arms, and her face—her full, pink lips—only a couple of inches below mine.

  It would be so, so easy to lean down and—

  Brooke took three large steps back. “Sorry,” she whispered, averting her eyes.

  As if she had committed a sin, Brooke marched out of the water. She kept going until she was standing by the edge of the sand, right beside her shoes.

  My brows curling down, I exited the water, picked up my shoes and socks, and went after her.

  “Brooke?”

  She kept her back to me. “I’m so sorry.”

  “About what?”

  Bending down, she grabbed her shoes, then turned to me, her eyes downcast. “I didn’t mean to be so careless.”

  I wasn’t following. “What are you talking about?”

  She lifted her face and stared at me with a knot in her forehead. “What just happened there?” She pointed to the ocean. “You … I …” She paused, pressed her lips tight. “I didn’t mean to use my powers on you. I’m sorry.”

  I blinked. “You think I was under your spell?”

  “You were,” she said.

  I was sure I hadn’t been spelled by her. If I almost kissed her, it hadn’t been for the fact that she was siren; it had been all on me, on the way I felt attracted to her. Without any spell.

  “I wasn’t,” I said.

  Her eyes widened. “But then …”

  I took a tentative step toward her and did one of the things I had been dying to do. I reached over and ran my fingers down her cheek, over her neck, then down her soft hair. I could see the panic, the surprise in her wide eyes. Though I wanted to kiss her badly, I was afraid of scaring her.

  I settled for slipping my hand into hers and holding tight. “Come on.” I tugged on her hand. “We should go.”

  Sixteen

  Brooke

  This morning, Mrs. Finnygood didn’t break into my bedroom early, and I was able to stay in the warm, soft bed, enveloped in the thick comforter for a few more minutes, just being. Just thinking.

  About Nathan.

  Of all the crazy things going on in my life right now, my brain only wanted to think about Nathan.

  He could say whatever he wanted, but I was sure he had almost kissed me in the ocean last evening—he was staring at my lips, leaning into me—because of my powers. I still couldn’t control them, and it had been hours since he had drunk the potion that helped him resist me. I doubted it had still been effective then. At least, it didn’t seem to be. Mayb
e he had a better resistance level to my charm because he was a hunter, but I knew it still affected him. Otherwise, why would he act the way he did? Why would he laugh with me, look at me so intently, caress my face, take my hand?

  There was no other explanation.

  I didn’t allow any other possibility to cross my mind. It was too farfetched to be true. Besides, I didn’t believe in fairy tales.

  After the almost kiss by the ocean, Nathan drove us to the Willow Harbor Inn. He escorted me inside, saying he would grab something from the Dark Horse Diner so we could have dinner, but Mrs. Finnygood shooed him out. And instead of eating with Nathan, I had a homemade chicken soup with Mrs. Finnygood—she watched while I ate. It had been a delicious soup, but I felt bad for Mr. Finnygood, who was still avoiding me, and I missed Nathan.

  Even though I shouldn’t miss him. He was better far away from me, where my powers couldn’t affect him.

  Groaning, I kicked the sheets and went for a shower. After getting dressed in jeans, a thin sweater, boots and leather jacket, I went down the stairs to see if Mrs. Finnygood had any breakfast for me.

  She wasn’t in the foyer or the sitting room. I poked my head through the back door and called to her. She didn’t answer.

  So … what now?

  An idea came to mind. I wasn’t sure when Nathan would show up—if he would—but I knew there would be a hunter outside.

  I opened the front door and sure enough, the girl was leaning on her white Jeep, her eyes on the inn. She saw me at the door and came over to me.

  “Hey,” she said, halting in front of the steps leading to the front door.

  “Hi, um, you’re a hunter, right?”

  “Yup.” She extended her slender arm to me. “I’m Amber Hart.”

  I shook her hand. “Brooke Ellis.”

  “I know.”

  “Oh, yes, right.”

  “Nathan should be here soon.”

  “Oh, okay. It’s just … I’m starving and I can’t find Mrs. Finnygood. I was thinking about going to Urban Grind to get coffee and something to eat.”

  Her thin eyebrows turned down. “You shouldn’t wander around alone.”

  “I know, but … um, what if you went with me? You could keep an eye on anything that looks suspicious, be it a naga who is approaching me, or a man who could get under my spell.” I tried saying it as if it were funny, but in truth it sounded pathetic. “Or not.”

  My shoulders deflated and I took a step back to go inside.

  “Maybe …” Amber looked across the street, in the direction of Urban Grind. “Your idea doesn’t sound too bad. You should be safe with me, especially if you avoid staring at people, or men mostly.”

  “Then you’ll go with me?”

  She shrugged. “Sure, why not?”

  Feeling a little too excited for coffee, I skipped down the stairs and stood beside Amber. She chuckled at me, before escorting me to Urban Grind. We made small talk on the way there. We talked about the weather, the beautiful green willow tree in the dead of winter, how Mobridge was probably still buried under the snow and how I didn’t miss it.

  At Urban Grind, the line was quite long for a small town. There were at least seven people in front of us, and more arrived after. I tried keeping my head low and not looking anyone in the eyes, afraid of enchanting them by accident.

  When it was our turn, we didn’t even have to open our mouth. Loran pulled out two to-go cups and started preparing our drinks. Apparently, he knew what Amber drank too. I guess he knew everybody’s orders.

  “Thanks, Loran,” Amber said when he handed her our cups.

  “You’re welcome,” he said with his usual smile.

  I pulled out my wallet, but Amber placed her hand over it. “Put it on the manor’s tab, please.”

  He winked. “Of course.”

  I frowned at Amber. “I can pay for it.”

  “I know, but I’m feeling generous,” she said, handing me my cup. “Consider it my treat.”

  I didn’t like it and was about to complain when Amber looked over my shoulder and stiffened. Curious, I followed her gaze and found two older women staring at her from a table in the corner.

  “Who are they?” I asked.

  Instead of answering me, Amber caught my elbow and pulled me to the side, away from the crowd and around the counter. “Stay right here.” Then she went to talk to them.

  I couldn’t make out their words, but it seemed like one hissed word after another, like the three of them were arguing. Maybe it was something involving hunters and their cases.

  With nothing better to do, I glanced around the busy coffee shop. A lot of people entered and left in a matter of minutes, carrying at least one steaming cup of coffee.

  Sighing, I slipped my hand inside my jacket pocket.

  My blood turned to ice.

  Slowly, I pulled out a folded beige paper.

  Just like my father’s letter.

  My hands shook as I unfolded the paper and read it.

  * * *

  You’re in danger. Leave town now.

  * * *

  My eyes widened, my hands trembled harder, and I almost dropped my coffee. I glanced around, searching for whoever had slipped this note inside my pocket. Because it had to have been here. Now. A moment ago.

  But there was no man in his late forties or early fifties—that was how old I imagined my father would be—inside Urban Grind, at least not that I could see.

  My breath grew shallow and I raced outside. I stopped at the sidewalk and surveyed all sides. A few people walked around the square and down the sidewalk and crossed the streets, but none of them looked suspicious, as if they needed to get away fast.

  Perhaps it hadn’t been my father. Perhaps it had been whoever had sent me the first letter. Whoever had lured me back to Willow Harbor.

  But why? Why bring me here and now tell me to leave?

  It didn’t make sense.

  Amber popped in front of me, the gleam in her eyes urgent, serious. “Why did you run like that? What happened?” I had no voice, no words, so I lifted my quavering hand and showed her the note.

  She sucked in a sharp breath. “Shit.” Glancing side to side, Amber pulled out her phone from her pocket and pressed one button. “Hey, it’s me. Are you coming?” She paused. “Then be faster. Something happened.” She put her phone back in her pocket, and hooked her arm with mine. “Come on. We need to get away from here.” Feeling numb and dazed, I let Amber pulled me toward the inn. “Just keep moving,” Amber said, her voice low as she dashed with me down the street.

  At the first corner, a man stepped out from the bookstore. He stared at me, his eyes wide and suddenly glazed over.

  “Oh my.” He stepped in our path, his eyes glued on me. “You’re beautiful,” he said, reaching for me. “You’re perfect.”

  Whimpering, I stepped back.

  “Shit,” Amber cursed. She tugged me back and around the man, and holding my hand, she pulled me into a run.

  “Come back!” the man yelled, following us.

  No, no, not again.

  And this time, I wasn’t that close to the water, and I wasn’t singing. I hadn’t even seen him until he jumped in front of us.

  We ran past Mrs. Ackermann, who was watching the scene, her eyes narrowed. Speculating. Disapproving.

  A few seconds later, the man ran past her too.

  “Faster,” Amber said, speeding up.

  I had never been a good runner, and in my precarious emotional state, I wasn’t really sure how I was moving at all.

  Amber pulled me into the front yard of a house. We ran down the side of the house, turned into the backyard, used a side gate to go to the other house behind it, and ended up in an alley between two other houses. When we emerged on the sidewalk, the inn was right in front of us.

  We raced across the street and into the inn.

  Mrs. Finnygood looked up from her place behind the desk and narrowed her eyes at us. “Now, what’s that ruckus a
bout?”

  Seventeen

  Nathan

  When Amber called, I was leaving the manor. I hadn’t planned to take that long before going to the inn and seeing Brooke, but Douglas and Caleb wanted to touch base with me about the demons in Charleston and the potions operation—the demons were actually lesser forest demons and they were spreading panic in the woods around Charleston. Nothing big but worth keeping an eye out in case they came this way, or in case we needed to go down there and interfere. As for the potions operation, they were too quiet and that bothered me a lot.

  Annoyed, I drove to the inn as fast as I could. Amber’s call had distressed me, and I couldn’t wait to get there and solve whatever it was.

  At the inn, Brooke was seated in a high-back chair in the sitting room, a porcelain cup of tea in her trembling hands, and Amber was seated by the window, her eyes outside. Mrs. Finnygood was pacing around, talking nonstop about making Brooke nervous, about having waited for her and not going out for coffee.

  “You went out for coffee?” It was the first thing out of my mouth and it sounded harsh. Startled, Brooke almost dropped the cup of tea. She turned her big green eyes to me. “What happened?” I tried again, softer.

  “She went out with me,” Amber said, standing up.

  Mrs. Finnygood halted in front of me, the top of her head coming to my stomach, and pointed her wrinkled finger at me. “You, young man. You should have been here. Now all of this mess with this poor child. All because of you.” She humphed, showing her discontentment, then marched out of the room.

  She had balls, I had to give her that.

  Amber replaced her, although Amber came up to my chin and I knew she could kick some serious ass. I straightened.

  She told me about Brooke not finding Mrs. Finnygood at the inn, about Brooke going outside to meet her, about going to Urban Grind together, about the note in Brooke’s pocket, and then about Karl Randall, who jumped out of nowhere and was enchanted by Brooke in less than a second.