My Sisters in Death (Siren Suicides, Book 2)

Chapter 9. Siren Meadow

He looks as if he's sleeping. Wisps of fog are his blanket. The mad daze spread across his face must be nothing more than a passing nightmare. His lips are blue, haggard and tired. I want to collect the leftover summer from the air, and tuck him in it to warm him up. I want to sing him a lullaby, one that is never-ending and can soothe his pain away. But I can't.

If I sing to him, I'll accelerate his soul's burning and destroy him for good. If I don't sing to him, he'll turn into a fully fledged siren hunter and destroy me. It's the matter of a simple choice, really. A choice I already made, so why all this doubt? Why do I want to slide in between these ethereal sheets, cuddle close to him, and lie like this forever?

I flinch at Canosa's voice.

"I told you not to touch the boy. Get off him, both of you. Go!" She shoos the sirens away. They scowl and hiss, but they scramble down, deprived of their treat yet obedient. They shout their displeasure and pout like two upset little girls who were told to leave their favorite doll behind and go to bed. Canosa hushes them with a cry, yelling at them now. They flee through gaps between the trees and are gone. I'm sure they won't go far, but will hide and watch from behind the overgrown firs and cedars.

I gape upward, at the endless distance that separates me from Hunter.

"Don't just stand there, get on with it." Canosa prods me in the small of my back and I stumble closer.

"Get on with what?" I say, hoping that maybe she forgot.

"Finish him! Before he turns into a ruthless killing machine and wipes us all out, together with your beloved papa," she jeers. She taps her small feet across the stage and jumps off onto one of the benches. She turns around and plops gently down, her hair spread around her in a matted blanket, legs crossed, hands clasped, her face expectant, ready for my performance.

I take a quick second to think, wondering what I can do to stop Hunter from turning and still keep him alive; maybe even reversing it, somehow, and restoring him to the way he was before he saw me jump out of the lake. I need to make him stop loving me; it's the only way.

I dare not take any more time, afraid Canosa will think I've hesitated for an important reason and start asking me questions. I lick my lips.

"Hunter!" I call and wait. "Hunter, it's me. Are you okay?" It's a dumb question to ask; of course he's not okay.

He doesn't respond, but opens his eyes. Dark circles make his irises bluer than I remember, now almost over-saturated against the background of growing darkness. He blinks several times, turning his head this way and that, until he finds me. A big grin stretches his cracked lips and parts his face in two, in the lovely way I've grown to adore. I forget our squabble at the dance club last night. I forget the girl who was hanging on him, and his bitter words. I forget I'm a siren, forget I'm dead. I rush to him, reach up, and grasp at empty air. He hangs too high.

"Fuck!"

His soul's faint murmur overpowers my quiet swearing.

"Hunter! Can you talk? Say something, please," I beg.

He loses his concentration, his lips fall slack, and his eyes close again. I squat, ready to jump up and untie him, when Canosa shrieks.

"Stop!"

I freeze.

She bends forward, indifferent and as cold as a fish, pointing at Hunter with a conductor's gesture.

"My dear boy, your last wish has been granted. I promised I would bring her, and I fulfilled my promise. Now it's your turn." She looks at me. "Do not disappoint me this time, Ailen Bright. Do you understand? I don't like being disappointed. It makes my skin dry." She rubs her forehead and flings her hair back, pinching her eyebrows, perhaps to make them look more arched.