Chapter 31 | The Devil of Siren City

Skylar

“No, no, no!” I cry out.

“Skylar!”

A voice echoes somewhere out of reach. I try to move, but I can’t. I’m pinned in place, my wrists held down by a heavy weight.

“Not again!” I say. “No!”

“Skylar, open your eyes!”

I obey. A bright light shines, burning my eyes. I blink repeatedly to banish the spots on my vision until I can tell where I am. I’m in Siren City. In the apartment Adrian and I share. Two dirty plates rest on the coffee table. We had eggs. Night eggs. It’s daylight, but the promise of a storm drifts in the sky above.

I’m still in the dream.

Soon, there will be sirens.

“No!” I say, fear clenching my heart. “Adrian!”

“I’m here,” he says. “I’m right here.”

His voice brings comfort and focus. My vision sharpens. I stop struggling, the firm touch of his hands on my wrists a safe embrace. I realize where I really am. I’m awake. I’m in Siren City. In the apartment Adrian and I share. I’m lying next to him on the couch. We… slept here. Together.

“It’s all right,” he says, balanced on his side. His hand hovers over my cheek, his deep blue eyes searching mine. The touch is cold. Always so cold. “You were having a nightmare.”

I nod slowly, remembering. The rain. The knife. The stench of blood… still lingering in the air.

I gasp. “Your shirt…” Drops of red bleed through his right side. His wound, reopened. “Oh, Christ. What did I do?!”

“You didn’t,” he says, his focus still on me. “Just turned a little too quickly, that’s all. I’m fine.”

“You’re bleeding—”

“It’s okay,” he insists. “Doesn’t even hurt. Lay down.”

I pause, his touch a firm comfort I can’t help but want to crawl beneath. But flashes of blood and death flood my mind once more.

Shaking my head, I try to sit up. “No, I have to—”

“Shh,” he whispers. “Just breathe.”

Air quivers in my lungs, shallow and unsatisfying. Adrian moves his thumb under my eye, wiping away a tear I didn’t realize had fallen.

“You’re all right now,” he says. “It was just a dream.”

Was it?

Pain flares behind my right eye.

That damned voice!

Go away!

I ignore it, not wanting to acknowledge the truth in the question. It wasn’t just a dream. I was a memory. A goddamn memory I’d do anything to forget.

“Tell me,” Adrian says, my pain clearly written on my face.

Tell him.

“No,” I say.

I resist all temptation to stay, to yield.

I have to get away from him. Far away from him.

I don’t know what I’ll do to him if I stay.

“I can’t,” I say, swallowing the truth. “I… I don’t remember it.”

Adrian nods. He doesn’t move, his gaze lingering on my face, on my eyes. Studying me. Searching for the truth.

I ease off the couch. “Sorry,” I say. “I have to go.”

Adrian sits up. “Where?”

Yeah. Where?

“Just have to get some air,” I reply to them both.

I rush down the hall. I splash water on my face and rinse my stale taste out of my mouth.

Where are you going?

I throw on a pair of jeans and a jacket. I need to banish the sight and stench of gore for good, before it becomes real again. I need to—

Oh, I see.

You’re going to that church, aren’t you?

I ignore the laughter, bolting out of my room toward the front door.

“Skylar.”

I stop with my hand on the doorknob. “What?”

Adrian stands by the kitchen counter just beyond the foyer with a small envelope in his hand. “Here,” he says.

“What’s that?” I ask, eager to leave.

“The errand I needed to run before,” he says. “You said you’d do it.”

“Oh, right.” I return to him, but I keep my distance. Next to him, my orchid sits on the table in its pot. The petals are red. Deep red. As if its stem is dripping blood.

“What is it?” I ask, blinking the vision away.

“There’s a bank on Fourth,” he says, handing me the envelope. “Just north of Market Street. Give that to the teller. They’ll handle the rest.”

I turn it over in my fingers once before sticking it in my pocket. “All right,” I say, backing away. “I’ll go do it now.”

“Skylar.”

Halfway to freedom, I pause, sensing a deeper question in his voice. “Yes?” I ask.

Silently, Adrian steps forward. I tremble slightly, forgetting the way he can tower over me. He regards me with those impossibly blue eyes, paying no mind at all to the drops of red on his shirt. Guilt tugs at me, urging me to stay. To heal.

“I’m sorry,” I whisper.

He shakes his head. “Don’t apologize. You’ve done nothing wrong.”

Somehow, I smile. “Bad habit, I guess.”

“Skylar, whatever you’re afraid of, whatever you’re running from,” he says pointedly, holding my eyes with ease, “you are safe here. Whatever it is, it’ll have to get through me.”

“I know,” I say, looking down as pain pulses between my eyebrows. “That’s what I’m afraid of.” I step back and open the door. “I’ll take care of your errand.”

Adrian doesn’t reply.

I leave.

I leave Adrian’s cold embrace and enter the even colder streets of Siren City. Storm clouds drift once again on the horizon, tainting the air with a bitter chill that creeps north from the sea. Zipping up my jacket, I make my way west, steering clear of Market Street on the path toward St. Nicholas’ Church, dodging the eyes of Ares’ men when I see them.

When the fountain outside the church finally comes into view, I breathe a sigh of relief. Just another minute and there will be silence. Stillness.

Are you sure about that?

I ignore it. It titters.

The sooner you accept there’s no getting rid of me, the better off we’ll be.

“No,” I murmur. “There’s no we.”

Sure, there is. There’s you. There’s me. And there’s Adrian—

“Leave him alone!”

Another cruel laugh. His bed is oh-so-nice, though.

My heart clenches.

What? Did you really think when you sleep, I sleep? That sirens were calling out to you, making you sleepwalk into Adrian’s bed? That’s me, you idiot.

Damn.

Guess I really am just crazy.

Crazy. And boring! How do you think I feel? Stuck in here all day listening to your thoughts, watching through your eyes. At least do something interesting! Like kill someone. Again.

“That wasn’t me.”

There’s blood on your hands, sweet cheeks, and there’s no one to blame but yourself.

I sink down to sit on the fountain’s edge.

But, hey, it could be worse! At least we have Adrian.

There’s that we again.

The words sting, cutting deeper than expected. When I sleep, it walks. When it walks, it looks like me. Talks like me. When Adrian is keeping me safe, he’s really with it instead.

Oh, calm down. He won’t touch me, it says, bitterly. Not without your consent.

I blink. “What?”

Of course, I tried! But… he wants you. Sure, I could force his hand, but there’s something almost sweet about the way he talks about you.

I pause, my thoughts a dull whisper beneath the trickle of the fountain and the rapid drum of my pulse.

Adrian wants… me?

But can you give him what he needs? The voice is suddenly sharp as glass. A man like him is sure to have a few… violent delights. Would you submit to him if he asked? Would you submit… even if he didn’t?

I shudder, the chill in my spine singed in a blaze of heat.

Let me take over, it urges as the pain fades behind my eye. And I’ll—

“No,” I say, standing up. “Never.”

I rush into the church as thunder rolls on the horizon. Shadows envelop me on the inside, but I find comfort in their darkness, the path through the sanctuary so familiar to me now.

I search for Ethan, but I don’t find him. There are others, a few faces I recognize. But no Ethan.

“Welcome back.”

I turn around, coming face-to-face with the blind woman I saw last time. At least, I thought she was blind. Clearly, she can see somewhat if she knows who I am.

“Hello,” I say. “Do you know where Ethan is?”

“He’s resting,” she says with a shrug, her dark robe hanging loosely over her shoulders.

“Do you know when he’ll be back?” I ask.

She squints in thought, the milky whites of her eyes shifting as she studies me. “I’m not sure you’ll find what you’re looking for here,” she says after a moment. “You, or your true self.”

I freeze. My true self?

“There are many paths to knowing one’s true self,” she continues. “But I’ve always found that being selfless is one of the better ones. To give one’s body, one’s mind, so that another may thrive.”

I take a step forward to get a better look at her. Straw-like dark blonde hair rests in a bun at the base of her neck. She stands with a cane now, but she didn’t before. Before, she stood tall in the sun and smiled as she handed me the orchid. I’m not sure how I didn’t recognize her before, but her words echo in my memory now.

“Please, take it. Nurture it. And reveal your true self.”

My true self.

The voice.

Fear grips my chest. “Who are you?”