Hexes and Exes

by Sarina Dorie

  The sirens were gathered on the rocks, bathing in the moonlight. Like Maddy, their skin was an iridescent mother-of-pearl shimmering with magic. Their hair was pale like corn silk. None of them wore clothes, but some adorned themselves with bracelets of algae or strands of moss in their hair.

  “I’ve never seen other sirens before,” Maddy said in awe.

  Miss Periwinkle scowled, looking them up and down with disdain.

  “Welcome to the Unseen Realm,” Bart said.

  The sirens’ merry music died away. Several of them sat up, startled. Others remained lounging, unimpressed by our entourage.

  The oldest of the sirens, a matronly woman with an ample bosom and an hourglass figure, rose out of the water, her legs melting into the stream, half transparent and half made of flesh.

  Her gaze settled on Maddy. “You’re one of us.”

  “I, well, I guess so.” She gazed at the young women lounging on the rocks. “I was hoping you might be able to help me. I don’t know how to control my powers. The unicorn said—”

  Bart cleared his throat. “I have a name, and it’s Bart.”

  “He said you might be able to help me. I’m part siren. I don’t know what to do with my powers.”

  The woman glided forward on a wave of water. She stroked Maddy’s hair as a mother might. “You poor child. I can see the sorrow in your soul. You need to free that ache from your heart with song and dance. Unleash your tears and dive into the watery depths where you belong. Join us, and we’ll take care of you.”

  “Really?” Maddy gazed up into the siren’s face.

  Miss Periwinkle’s voice cut through the music of the siren’s voice. “In exchange for what?”

  The siren raised her eyebrows. “What do you mean?”

  “Sirens are Fae,” Miss Periwinkle said. “You say you’re willing to help this young lady, but what do you wish for in return? Do you expect her to indebt herself to you? Will you demand her firstborn child?”

  “Good luck getting her firstborn. Maddy traded that already,” Hailey said in her diarrhea-of-the-mouth kind of way.

  The mother siren studied Maddy. She waved her fingers in the air. A glowing emblem appeared over Maddy. The purple light formed a crest that looked a lot like a crab with tentacles: the King of the Pacific.

  “You poor, sweet girl. You have suffered so much already.” The siren mother smoothed a hand over Maddy’s hair. “We ask no price from one of our own kind. Allow us to help you, to lighten your burden. We will teach you our songs and our ways.” The woman sat down on the rocks and began to sing. The other sirens joined her.

  It seemed a little too perfect. Could this be the answer we were looking for? Instead of shipping Maddy off to an all-girls school, was it better if she joined the other sirens, even if they were Fae? Surely not all Fae were bad.

  Their music washed over me, making me smile.

  Maddy swayed to the music. She removed her clothes and dove into the water, splashing and swimming with the others.

  Josie grabbed my arm, shaking me out of the content lull that embraced my senses. She tugged me toward Miss Periwinkle, whispering frantically. “Are we just going to let this happen? We were supposed to bring her back. We aren’t supposed to allow Fae to abduct our students.”

  Miss Periwinkle shrugged. “It isn’t abducting if she chooses to leave our flock.”

  After my other encounters with Fae, I wasn’t sure what made this group any different. Ultimately this was Maddy’s choice, but I didn’t want her to walk into a trap.

  Hailey stood alone, arms crossed. Her face was scrunched up, and I could tell she wasn’t happy about this.

  Bart nudged me. I’d forgotten all about him.

  “I did good, didn’t I?” He bumped me with his shoulder.

  “Yes, you did.” I rubbed his long nose.

  “Have you considered how you might reward me for all my good deeds tonight?”

  “I’m going to keep on thinking about that one,” I said.

  Without warning, he pushed me back. I was about to chide him, but he turned toward the shadows, growling. The brushes rustled, and twigs popped.

  Jasper Jang and Silas Lupi strode out of the bushes, wands lighting up the path.

  “There you are, Josie. I thought I saw—” Silas’s eyes went wide as he caught sight of the naked sirens.

  The siren mother grinned, revealed sharp rows of teeth. They didn’t stop singing as the newest addition of teachers arrived. Instead, their voices grew louder.

  Jasper Jang swayed, a dreamy smile on his face. I had always gotten the vibe the drama/music teacher was gay, but his eyes were glued on the sirens. He staggered toward the water.

  “No!” I dove forward, grabbing for his coat.

  My fingers almost touched the thick wool, but he stepped an inch out of reach. I kept on reaching for him, but I couldn’t get any closer. My feet wouldn’t move. I was frozen in place. Not cold frozen, just still. No one else was moving either. Not that I could tell from where I stood anyway.

  The sirens sang, their music so sweet and beautiful it filled me with longing. I wanted to dive into the water and sink into the embrace of the cold.

  Maddy rose, her eyes wild with fear. “What are you doing? These are teachers from my school.”

  “We will be your new school,” the siren mother said. “I will teach you all you need to know. Join your people, and you will learn how to seduce a man and lure him to his death.”

  One of the sirens giggled. “My favorite part is when all the bubbles come out of their mouths.” She touched a sharp fingernail to Jasper Jang’s chin, her gaze dreamy.

  “I thought your favorite part,” said another. “is making love to them before you drown them.”

  Maddy left the water and stood in front of her teachers. “I want to control my powers. I don’t want to keep hurting men. I need to learn how to stop.”

  “But this is what you are meant to do,” the mother siren said. “This is your part in our world.” She melted into the water and reformed a few feet away, on Maddy’s other side. On a wave of water, she glided toward Silas Lupi.

  Maddy looked to Silas Lupi, his arms outstretched toward a siren on the rocks, his body held in place like a statue. Maddy tried to place herself between him and the siren, but the woman melted away, only to reappear in front of Jasper Jang.

  “Stop hiding what you are. Cease fighting who you’re meant to be,” the siren said. The others sang a chorus behind them.

  I felt like those words could have been directed at me. I didn’t want to fight what I was meant to be either. I was a Red. I didn’t want to hide and live my life in fear.

  It was about then I noticed the burning in my chest.

  Feet crunched on the frozen earth. Miss Periwinkle came into my line of sight. She placed a hand on Maddy’s shoulder. “This is one choice, but there are others. You can be more than a killer. You don’t need to be like these sirens.”

  “I don’t want to keep hiding who I am with glamour,” Maddy wailed. “I don’t want to pretend to be something I’m not. But I don’t want to be like them either.”

  Miss Periwinkle’s voice grew rough and raw. “Then don’t. Instead of concealing what you are, use your powers. But use them constructively.”

  Perhaps someone should have given Miss Periwinkle that advice years ago.

  My head grew foggy. The edges of my vision grew blurred. I tried to inhale but couldn’t. I wondered how long it had been since I’d breathed.

  Hailey grunted nearby. Golden flames danced over her skin. She was fighting the siren magic, her fire affinity battling that of the siren water furies. She struggled closer—the exact opposite of what I would have suggested she do—but Hailey always was a rebel.

  One of the sirens stroked Jasper Jang’s face.

  “No! Please, this isn’t what I want. Let them go,” Maddy said.

  The siren shrugged. “Use your voice, then. Free them.”

  “I don’t kno
w how.”

  “You didn’t know how to seduce them,” the siren sang. “You didn’t know how to kill them. Yet somehow you did. Perhaps it’s because this is you. This is your nature.”

  Hailey took hold of Maddy’s hand. Steam hissed from between them. Hailey stretched a hand toward my shoulder, but she couldn’t reach. I got what Hailey was doing then. She wanted Maddy to use my power.

  I pleaded at Miss Periwinkle with my eyes since that was about all I could do. Maddy needed to fight siren magic with siren magic, but she needed more power. I grunted, but I still couldn’t breathe. Miss Periwinkle must have figured it out. She placed a hand on my shoulder.

  Miss Periwinkle held out her hand to Maddy. “Sing,” she simply said.

  Maddy’s voice came out as a sonic boom, a single note that thundered out of her.

  “No!” Her voice vibrated through my bones. “I am not a murderer.”

  I gasped and dropped onto the forest floor. Everyone else fell, struggling for breath. I blinked.

  The sirens were gone. Maddy shook as she dressed, either from the cold or nerves. Hailey held up her coat, blocking Maddy’s nudity from view. The adults rose more slowly.

  “So, um, that didn’t exactly go as planned,” Bart said. “Am I still getting that reward?”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  Sweet Dreams Are Made of These

  The trying events of the day left me exhausted. I didn’t want to dream that night. I didn’t know what dreams would come after all the weird sexual situations I’d found myself in. The reoccurring nightmare always came during times of stress.

  At least my studies in lucid-dreaming techniques enabled me to recognize the difference between reality and dreaming.

  In the scene my subconscious thought up, I lay in my childhood bedroom in the dark. Halloween lights from outside flickered orange across my wall, painting My Little Ponies and fairy figurines in a warm glow.

  Derrick’s arm slid around me. He nuzzled his face into my neck. It felt nice, comforting and familiar. Only, I knew it wouldn’t last. I was stuck in the dream again.

  The perfume of autumn intensified in the air. Decaying leaves and rotting pumpkins wafted toward me.

  “I need you. I want you. Let me show you how much I love you,” a man’s voice said in my ear. It was British.

  Even without turning I knew it was Julian.

  My hair caught on the bark of his face. He slid a hand over my arm. His skin was a mixture of wood and lichen. Mushrooms grew on the back of his wrist. My heart skittered wildly in my chest. I tried to stop the dream. I tried to wake up.

  “Tell me you want me. I could make you so happy,” Julian said. “Look at me, love.”

  I resisted turning to look at him. I squeezed my eyes closed. The vines crept over me, fondling me and restraining me. He rolled me toward him. His breath raked against my face, stinking of rotting meat and wet earth.

  “No,” I said. “I don’t want this.”

  “Are you going to kill me? I thought you loved me.”

  “Thatch,” I whispered.

  Julian’s lips kissing me were soft and urgent. I opened my eyes. Derrick looked at me, brow furrowed.

  I needed to end this dream. Thatch hadn’t been angry with me the last time I’d called him into my dream. I didn’t know how he’d react after the events earlier in the day if I pulled him in now. I had to risk it.

  “Thatch,” I called, this time louder. I imagined myself traveling through that misty shadowland of dreams that lay between us, plucking him out of his own dream, and whipping back into my subconscious.

  “Merlin’s balls! Why did you have to give me this body?” Thatch demanded.

  Derrick, half himself and half green man, lay unmoving in front of me, frozen in place like a siren’s human toy. He wasn’t the one speaking. I tried to twist around to see where Thatch was, but the vines held me in place. Plastic pattered on the wooden armoire, thudded, and pattered closer. The plants rustled, and my pillow shifted.

  My favorite unicorn My Little Pony cantered forward. His body was purple and his hair green. I had renamed her Magestica when I was five.

  “Wow,” I said.

  “This is demoralizing. You planned this, didn’t you? After all that business with Clyde the Unicorn—”

  “His name is Bart. And no, I didn’t mean to give you a toy body on purpose.”

  He snorted and trampled across the pillow and clambered across the green mountain of Derrick’s chest. “Now that I’m here, let’s make some changes to this dream. Do you enjoy being restrained with vines?”

  “No.” I couldn’t stop staring at the plastic pony’s mouth moving with Thatch’s deep voice coming out of it.

  He spoke slowly, enunciating each word. “It’s your dream. Get rid of them.”

  I tried to imagine them going away. They remained.

  “You’re going about this all wrong.” He shook out his green mane in the same way he did with his hair. “Close your eyes. Sink deeper into the fabric of the dream. You are yourself and Derrick and the room. You are the blanket and the ponies on the wardrobe. They all work for you and follow your command. Tell the plants to shove off.”

  I enjoyed his British accent coming out of the pony body.

  “Shove off,” I repeated. The plants shrank away, and I could breathe easier. I opened my eyes. They were gone.

  “I need to switch perspectives for a minute,” he said.

  Derrick shifted. The pony tumbled off his shoulder and fell onto the Tinker Bell bedspread. For a moment I thought it was the dream-Derrick coming to life again, kicking Thatch out of my head.

  “I’m him now.” Thatch’s voice came out of Derrick’s mouth. It was jarring, worse than coming out of a purple pony. I looked away.

  “No, look at your fear.” He scooted back. It was probably to give me more room, but it also meant there was more of him to look at. His muscular chest was naked.

  I forced myself to stare into Derrick’s blue eyes.

  The somber expression on his face was more Thatch than Derrick. “Tell your fear to bugger off.”

  “I wouldn’t ever say that in real life. I wouldn’t be mean to Derrick.”

  “This isn’t Derrick. It’s a construct of your fears.”

  I stared into his somber eyes. I could have fallen in love with Derrick all over again. I was certain I would, if I ever got the chance to.

  “Oh, and while we are making changes, do you think you could dress us?” Thatch made a face like he’d tasted a sour grape. “If you’re going to make yourself feel empowered and in control, clothes might be a good start. How about that polka-dot-and-striped outfit I’m always giving you a hard time about? For some reason, you seem to like that one.”

  I gave him my polka-dot blouse, black skirt, and the striped leggings I liked to wear underneath. He peeked under the covers and scowled at his new attire.

  “Your depravity knows no bounds.” His chagrined smile faded as he looked at me.

  I wore a long black gown with a high collar and a cameo. Emerald-green snakes spiraled around my sleeves, making them look striped. I sat up. On my head I wore a witch’s hat. It was the same attire my biological mother wore in her painting.

  Thatch cleared his throat. “I see.”

  Probably my mother’s clothes brought back his old memories—his nightmares. I looked like her. Now I was dressed like her. He had to be wondering if I was going to become evil like her.

  “I’m sorry,” I said. “I should change into something else.”

  “No. This is part of your process. Go ahead. Confront your fears.”

  I hesitated. The entire dream felt absurdly surreal, from Thatch’s voice coming out of a Julian version of Derrick to the talking toys. There wasn’t anything actually scary about any of this.

  He cleared his throat and changed his voice—or tried to. His accent sounded in between a Texan and a New York accent. “I’m your worst nightmare, Lawrence. I’m going to get you. Rar
r. Look at me. I’m scary. What are you going to do about it?”

  “Go away. Get out of my dream.” I remained calm.

  “Make me.”

  I sank back into the fabric of the dream.

  “You’re a puny, weak girl who can’t control her magic. What are you going to do about it?” His comical accent made me want to laugh. I couldn’t figure out whom he was trying to imitate.

  I pushed against him with my will. The space between us stretched, and he was no longer right beside me. I could feel him at the boundary of my dream, about to fall off a great invisible edge.

  “No! Don’t hurt me. You love me, remember? Why would you do this to me?” he whined, sounding like a high school student who didn’t like his grade.

  I pushed, and he was gone. It was just me alone in my childhood room.

  “Thatch?” I asked. I prayed I hadn’t killed him.

  The My Little Pony shook itself. “That’s a good start. Let’s try again, this time with feeling, as the drama teacher would say.”

  We practiced over and over, sometimes with Julian as the villain. Sometimes it was with Derrick. We even substituted other random ghosts of boyfriends past that I needed to exorcise. It was difficult to tell how long we practiced in the dream world.

  After several more renditions, Thatch asked, “How do you feel?”

  He materialized now, taking his own form. He pulled out a chair from the little desk on the other side and scooted it closer. He looked like a giant in the pink chair. “Do you think your subconscious has gotten the message that you’ve faced your demons?”

  “I guess, but . . . I’m not sure how any of this is going to help me in the real world. So what if I tell an imaginary lover I’m refusing his advances?”

  “For starters, you might be able to do the same thing in real life. Tell me, why do you think you have been imposing Julian’s face on Derrick and vice versa?”

  “I don’t know. Maybe I’m afraid I might kill Derrick accidentally.”

  “Most likely. And why does your affinity work when it wants to instead of when you want it to?”

  I didn’t see where he was going with these questions yet. “I’m still learning to control it.”