Chapter 11 | The Devil of Siren City

Skylar

This doesn’t make any sense.

I stare at the storefront, wondering if I made a wrong turn somewhere. Behind the glass, there are records and stereo equipment. Signs promising the best deals on the most advanced systems. New and used CDs. Vintage vinyls and tapes.

It’s a music store.

But it wasn’t that before. This was the flower shop where I got the orchid. Wasn’t it?

I paused to rest, and that woman gave it to me. Free of charge.

Right?

I tilt my head toward the alley. That memory is unfortunately burned into my brain after the encounter with Ares’ men. Tight and narrow with trash cans shoved against one wall, a few of them still knocked over from when Adrian threw that guy into them.

The pier is just across the way. There’s nowhere to go but right, and that street leads into Old Town.

No. This is it.

But it’s not.

“Can I help you, miss?”

A man barks at me from the doorway, his tone more suspicious than customer-friendly. Then again, I’d be wary of some strange lady lingering outside my shop, too. Looking shifty.

“No,” I say. “Sorry, I just got a little turned around, I think.”

He slinks back inside. Guess he doesn’t want to offer directions.

You would get lost on a one-way street.

I round the corner, not wanting to attract any more attention as I try to navigate the rest of the boardwalk. A boutique. A chocolatier. A pawn shop. But no flower shop.

At the end, I pause. The crowd has thinned and the sounds of seagulls and splashing waves fade behind me. The air grows heavy. Thick trees block the early evening sunlight. I should start heading back if I want to get home by dark, and I really don’t want to wander around Siren City after dark.

Still, I walk. I leave the familiar comfort of Market Street and enter some place very different.

Old Town. 

Quiet and cold, the air is noticeably several degrees lower. I wrap my arms around myself and continue on, pulled deeper into the neighborhood by... something. My natural curiosity, maybe. But I need to see more.

I enter a park. The ground is barren, plagued by dead grass and litter. Tents lie beneath trees, but the dead branches weren’t enough to stay out of the rain. My heart aches. These poor people. One of the first things you hear about Siren City is how alive it is. Dangerous, for sure. But alive. Full of excitement. But this...

This place is death.

I find a church.

The sign is old and decrepit, the letters nearly worn off, but it’s still legible.

St. Nicholas’ Church.

Enter all ye who seek to be found.

The sign stands next to a fountain, the still water disturbed by the occasional drop of rain. A statue stands tall in its center. St. Nick himself, I guess. Good looking dude for a piece of stone.

It’s sprinkling now. I should get home.

Home. So strange how quickly that word can change its meaning.

Or it always was home.

You just hadn’t found it yet.

I blink and I realize I’ve been staring into the statue’s eyes for far too long. Rain plummets from above. I need to find shelter.

I rush down the path and enter through the church’s open doors. The church itself looks in better shape than the surrounding land. Clean and welcoming. Moving quietly, I wipe my shoes on the mat and shake the water from my jacket. Hopefully, this passes quickly. I should be able to wait this storm out here for a while. Churches are good like that. Elsewhere anyway. Who knows what it’s like here in Siren City?

I walk into the sanctuary. My eyes adjust quickly and I scan the beautiful stained glass windows above. Barely any light shines through, but I can still make out the colorful tableaus. Boats amid crashing waves. Beautiful creatures with long hair and winding tails. A stunning lighthouse. A bearded man surrounded by others.

With silent steps, I move down the aisle. A few downturn heads raise as I pass. I can’t be sure if that’s true or just paranoia, but I feel eyes watching me in the dark. Cold and judgmental.

Feeling guilty, are we?

I bite my tongue to stop myself from answering out loud. This voice. This damned voice! She sounds like me, but she is not me.

Are you sure about that?

Yes! You are not me!

A sharp pain throbs behind my right eye. I pinch them closed and breathe, waiting for the pain to subside. Even when it does, I can still feel her there. Watching. Listening. Reminding me of that night. Of the cruel tap, tap, tapping sound of blood dripping from my hands onto the floor.

“Go away,” I say, a harsh whisper.

A shape moves beside me. A man rises from a kneeling position by the altar, his dark cloak completely obscuring his form in the shadows.

“No, not you!” I say. “I’m so sorry. I wasn’t... shit. Pardon my language. I shouldn’t have said that. Please, stay. I’ll leave.”

He turns, his hood partially pushed back, revealing half of his face. He’s young and handsome, but weary, with heavy circles under his eyes and pale skin. His dirty blonde hair is long and unkempt, merely pushed back behind his ears.

“I’m sorry,” I whisper, adjusting my volume. “I wasn’t talking to you.”

He stares, his one visible eye shifting as if to ask the most obvious question.

Who were you talking to then?

I don’t answer. I wouldn’t even know where to begin.

“I’m sorry,” I repeat, turning to leave.

He steps forward, his hand raised to stop me. I wait, but he says nothing. Instead, he turns his hand up and offers it.

I hesitate. I don’t know this man. I don’t know this place, this world. But one thing I do know: I don’t belong here. I’m...

A sinner.

A killer.

A—

He extends his hand another inch, urging me to take it. His head tilts with the movement, exposing his eye to another dim ray of candlelight, and something in his stare brings calm. Focus. Silence.

You can’t get rid of me that easily.

I take his hand. He guides me back to the altar. He lowers back onto his knees, and I go with him. With our entwined hands between us, the man lowers his head and brings his other hand to his lips. A rosary hangs from between his fingers. He goes still. Quiet. Practically invisible in the shadows once again.

I mimic him, bowing my head with my other hand in my lap. I listen to... nothing. Silence so loud it rings in my ears. The voice, gone. My pulse, calm. His grip, strong and safe.

Anchored and steady, I close my eyes.

Somewhere deep inside, the voice laughs, but the sound never reaches my ears.

***

Adrian

Candy coats a wooden spoon in the sauce and offers it to me, keeping one hand beneath it to prevent it from dripping. “Taste,” he says.

I lean forward, happy to do so. If I had to say one thing I missed most about Siren City in my absence, it’s Candy’s cooking. “Good,” I say, the rush of flavors exactly what I’d expect.

“Good?” he asks, the word alone obviously not good enough. “Just good?”

“Creamy. Velvety. The best alfredo I’ve ever tasted,” I add.

“Was that so hard?” He smiles and turns back to the stove.

I sip my wine, enjoying the wonderful scent of it mixed with cooked scallops and garlic. After Skylar left earlier, Candy insisted on staying for dinner, which then snowballed into him cooking dinner for my new employee. Before I could object, he was already on his phone dialing his fish contact at the port while rummaging through the cabinets for kitchenware.

Jacket off. Sleeves rolled up. A devious smirk on his mouth. This was Candy at his very best.

“We’ll enjoy a nice dinner. Some friendly conversation,” he said. “By the end, I’ll know exactly whether or not your new roomie can be trusted.”

I’d argue with it, but Candy possesses many talents. Among them being his uncanny ability to detect lies. Uncover secrets.

The last thing I want is for him to turn those talents on me. I have no desire to burden him any more than I already have.

I hear the elevator before the turn of the doorknob. Skylar returns, her hair and clothing damp with rain. She smiles as she enters the kitchen from the mudroom, surprised to see the kitchen in its current state.

“It smells incredible in here,” she says with a laugh. “What’s going on?” 

“Candy has elected himself host for the evening,” I say.

“I insisted!” Candy turns away from the stove to focus on her instead. “Do you have any food allergies, Skylar?”

“No,” she answers.

“Excellent! I make the best seafood alfredo in Siren City. I thought it’d be a great time to catch up with Adrian while getting to know you as well.”

She maintains her smile, but the idea clearly makes her uncomfortable. “Oh, there’s not much to get to know...”

“Don’t be modest!” Candy chuckles. “Join us for a glass of wine. Dinner will be ready in ten.”

She looks at me, perhaps for confirmation. I give her no reason to back out. Truthfully, I am curious to see what Candy can get out of her, and what he can’t.

“All right,” she says. “I’ll go freshen up.”

“Great!” Candy turns back to the stove while Skylar heads toward the hallway.

“What did the flower shop say?” I ask her.

Behind me, Candy slows his hand, his ears perked for her response.

Skylar looks at the orchid on the kitchen table. “Oh. It just needs more sunlight.” She shrugs as she touches a multi-colored petal. “With all the rain we’ve had, it makes sense she’d look a little sad. Or so the woman I spoke to said.”

Candy resumes. He’s heard enough.

“Makes sense,” I say.

“I’ll be right back,” she says, bowing out into the hall.

As soon as she’s gone, Candy mutters loud enough for me to hear, “Should have let me follow her.”

“Was she lying?” I ask, though I already know. It was written all over her face.

“Through her perfect teeth.”

“She could have a good reason.”

Candy abandons his skillet to face me. “Adrian,” he says, a voice of warning. “Don’t tell me you’re—”

“Candy,” I say even harder. “Don’t forget who you’re speaking to.”

He wants to show some sass, I can tell, but he thinks twice and takes a sip from his wine instead. “We’ll see what else I pick up over dinner,” he says before turning back to the stove.

I tune to Skylar’s movements across the apartment. She wanders through her room, to her closet, then back into the hall to enter the bathroom.

I eye the orchid on the table. The petal she touched. It’s almost pure white, the deep pink color now faded into its center.

What are you hiding, Skylar?