Chapter 29 | The Devil of Siren City

Adrian

“Now, now,” Persephone scolds with a wag of her finger. “That’s cheating.”

“You don’t know,” I assume.

She gazes at me from her side of the couch. It’s strange how different she is from Skylar. Same face. Same baggy sweater. At first, the only thing that gave it away was the hair, but now I see it in the eyes, too. Skylar’s are bright and forest green, while Persephone’s are dark and cloudy.

A maiden with two faces.

“No, I do,” she says. “But if she wanted you to know, she’d tell you.”

“You’ve been open with her thoughts so far.”

“Only the obvious ones.” She arches a brow. “Is it really a surprise that she blushed her way through your sponge bath?”

I say nothing.

“I know everything she does,” she says. ‘I see everything she sees. Every thought. Every memory. Every fantasy. It’s all there.”

“Does she see through your eyes?” I ask, curious if Skylar is looking back at me right now from deep within.

“No,” she answers, dropping to a whisper. “She’s asleep.”

“You don’t sleep?”

“I don’t get the luxury anymore.”

“Anymore?”

“Oops.” She smirks. “Almost said too much.”

I move on, not in the mood for games. “What is she dreaming about?”

Persephone closes her eyes. The small wrinkle between her brow tightens. “Oh,” she says after a moment, suddenly bored. “This again.”

“Again?”

“Every night, the same dream.” Her eyes open. “The same nightmare.”

“Wake her up.”

She snorts. “It’s just a nightmare, Adrian. She’s a big girl, you know.” With a sigh, she looks out the windows ahead. “You’d think she’d be over it by now, but trauma is trauma. And our girl has seen some shit.”

I’d ask, but I know she won’t answer. And, as I told Candy before, Skylar will tell me in time. When she’s ready. I won’t betray that trust any more than I already have tonight by asking Persephone behind her back.

Such a strange thing to feel guilty about.

“Aw. How cute.”

I glance over. “What is?”

“You care about her.”

“She’s—”

“—my responsibility,” she says with me, chuckling. “Sure, Adrian. That’s all it is.”

Persephone shifts toward me. My chest pulses as she moves, gently crawling over me and settling onto my lap. She sits on my knees, being mindful to not bump my wounded torso.

“You want her, don’t you?” she says, not really asking.

I don’t say a word, still so intrigued by this… creature in my home. Even the way she moves is so very Skylar like. It’s Skylar’s body. Skylar’s warmth. Skylar’s beauty and grace.

But it’s not her.

When Persephone inevitably drifts even closer, I turn my lips away from hers. “No,” I say.

“Why not?” she asks, more intrigued than annoyed. “Am I not flesh and blood? A woman with needs?”

“It’s not your flesh and blood.”

“Isn’t it?” She takes my hand, her touch so warm and gentle as she places it on her upper chest. My fingertips graze the edge of her neck and I feel the thumping of her pulse, soft and calm. “Am I alive?”

Every muscle in my body tightens as I curb the urge to touch her further. “She is,” I say.

Persephone leans back, her stormy eyes revealing a little coldness. Some hurt. She releases my hand. I rest it back at my side. Then she places her palm on my chest, the strange intimacy of it making my skin tingle as my heart locks for a moment.

“Are you?” she asks me.

I’m not sure how to answer. So I don’t.

She hums softly as she traces a scar through my shirt with her fingertip, somehow knowing exactly where it is.

Exactly where it hurt the most.

“Do you dream about her, Adrian?” she asks.

“I don’t remember,” I answer truthfully. “But I think so.”

Persephone stares at me, her expression unreadable once more. After a minute, she slips off my lap and returns to her spot beside me. “You know,” she murmurs as she comfortably rests her head against my shoulder. “I’m really starting to like you.” 

She says nothing more and, after a few minutes of watching the harbor outside, her breathing slows. Her head grows heavier. Her scarlet hair fades back to blonde.

“Skylar?” I whisper.

She doesn’t reply. She’s asleep.

I won’t wake her. She’s earned her rest.

I linger for a little longer, watching the horizon through the windows with her by my side, wondering if Persephone will show herself again. Truthfully, I hope not. As intriguing as her presence is, and as worrisome as Skylar’s secrets may be, I prefer the latter more. I can handle a woman with secrets. It’s the open ones you have to worry about, and Persephone has been very, very open.

One, kind and gentle, powerful enough to save your soul. A healer.

Skylar shifts slightly, her head moving against my shoulder before settling again. I smile. I kiss her forehead. I think about how lucky I am to have her, how lucky it was that she found her way to me from… wherever it was she came from.

Wherever that is… it doesn’t matter.

She’s mine now.

I close my eyes as a scar on my heart burns.

***

Skylar

This dream. Always the same dream.

I squeeze my eyes closed, embracing the darkness.

I don’t want to see this again, but I can’t stop the scent of blood from filling my nose.

“Wake up,” I say.

My hands are sticky with it. My scrubs are drenched with rain, dirty knees digging into the mud beneath me. Thunder rolls overhead as a siren echoes in the distance.

They’re coming.

That voice. That damned voice!

“Wake up,” I say. “Please, wake up.”

He can’t.

“No.”

You killed him.

“No, I didn’t!”

You held the knife.

“It wasn’t me!” I cover my ears. “You did this!”

I can help you.

I shake my head. I just want this dream to end. I want this memory to leave me and never come back. 

And it will. I can make this all go away.

First, you have to get up.

The sirens grow louder. Rain runs down my face, washing away my sweat and tears.

But not the blood.

Nothing can ever wash that away.

Get up.

I ignore it. I settle deeper into the earth, waiting for the inevitable.

Get up and find Adrian.

I inhale sharply as the name echoes in my thoughts. “Adrian?” I whisper.

He’s the only one who can protect you.

I picture him so easily, as if I’ve looked at him a hundred times before. His sky-blue eyes. His black hair. His scars.

So many scars.

Tell him.

I open my eyes, but I don’t look up. I keep them on my blood-stained hands lying limply in my lap. “He won’t understand,” I say.

I think he will.

If not, you’ll just kill him.

“No!” I say.

The voice laughs. Suddenly, the rain stops. The thunder fades. The sirens, too.

But the scent of blood remains.

I look up and I’m in Siren City. I’m kneeling on the floor of the apartment Adrian and I share. The harbor shines through the windows in front of me, the bright mid-day sun making the waves sparkle like diamonds.

“Skylar.”

I follow his voice over my shoulder. Adrian is sitting on the couch in the same place I last saw him. Two dirty plates rest on the coffee table. I remember eggs. Night eggs. We should have night eggs more often.

He’s bleeding.

“Adrian?”

Blood seeps through his shirt, through several gashes and punctures on his chest.

Stab wounds.

I look down. There’s a knife in my hand.

“No.”

I drop it. I rush to him, feeling for a pulse as tears spring to my eyes. His skin is cold, but he’s always cold.

Always so cold.

“Adrian!”

I put pressure on the wounds, but it’s too late. There’s too much blood.

He’s already dead.

He’s been dead a long time.

“No, no, no! Not again! No!”

Lightning crashes on the horizon. Thunder pounds in the heavens above. Rain slams against the windows as sirens cry in the distance.

And the voice laughs.

This dream.

It’s different this time.