Fire Brand

by Kristen Strassel

  My best friend, Teal, stilled her cymbals. She smirked as I flung myself on the couch in front of her drum set. “Asher MacKay is nothing more than a booty call. I know that, he knows that, and everyone besides you knows that. Don’t question it. There’s something to be said for that kind of relationship.”

  “You kill him every time you fuck him.” Penelope, our bassist, joined me on the couch and flipped her inky hair over her shoulder. “It’s not a relationship, it’s a challenge for both of you to see who can destroy the other one first.”

  Teal shook her head. “That makes it sound like a relationship.”

  “Like you guys know anything about relationships.” My bandmates were sirens, too, and one-night stands were a necessity for all of us. We killed every man we lured into our grasp. We had no problem packing the small club we played just outside the walls of Chronopolis, with the waves lapping against the back deck, but not everyone in our audience made it home after the show. “Asher’s our best chance at getting The Bay back.”

  “It’s been decades.” Teal didn’t need to remind me. She and Penelope had been members of my court, but they seemed much more content in their new roles as mercenaries. “We’re working the plan. Slow and steady. Eventually no one will send their men to The Bay when their soldiers don’t come home.”

  “We’re not dealing with an organized army.” The men who came to The Bay now were much different than the armies that fought so hard to make our waters open to all who wished to enter. “No one misses the guys we kill.”

  “Asher MacKay won’t help you get The Bay back.” Penelope relished anarchy. She’d fought The League tooth and nail on every decision they made, except for the one to expel us from their rule. “He’ll choose The League over you every time.”

  “That’s not true.” I had to convince myself of that before I made any headway with my best friends. “Like you said, the world’s different now. We can’t fight the same way forever and expect our enemies not to find our weaknesses. Same goes for Chronopolis and The League. An alliance—“

  “Would backfire.” Penelope insisted. “This isn’t about The Bay.”

  “No, it’s not.” Even worse than admitting weakness to these two was admitting feelings. “He’s the only man I’ve ever come close to dating.” And definitely the only one I ever wanted to. “I like him. He’s not perfect, but he’s hungry. He wants better than what he has. I admire that.”

  “Dating,” Teal scoffed, and blew her long red bangs out of her eyes. She did it anytime she got annoyed.

  “Yeah, dating. I don’t want to spend time with anyone else, and we’ve been seeing each other for years now. I want someone I can come home to. More than just the thrill of the chase and the kill. I want to be…” The next part was hard to say out loud. “In love.”

  “That’s what we’re for.” Penelope laughed when I kicked her. “Okay, so maybe I won’t cuddle with you since you seem to be a kicker—“

  “She steals sheets, too.” Teal had suffered through many sleepovers at my house as a kid.

  “Yeah, you need a bed to yourself. Listen, all my girlfriends bitch and moan about their boyfriends and their husbands. I ask them, why do you bother? They can make it on their own. And every time they say they love him.” Penelope made a face to match the tone of the last two words, followed by a gagging noise. “Either they have the wrong idea about what love is, or you do. What you and Ash have, or had, was the perfect arrangement. No expectations. That’s what messes things up. Don’t think the King of fucking Chronopolis is going to spend Monday night on the couch playing footsie with you. It’s not what either of you want.”

  “He’s getting married, so maybe he’s reexamined his priorities.” I pulled my guitar out of its case and strummed hard. I needed to get into the right headspace for our show or the whole night would be shit. I’d brought this up because I was looking for a little sympathy, not tough love.

  Clearly I came to the wrong place.

  Teal’s face scrunched up like she’d sucked on a lemon. “So he’s been screwing around on you? He did you a favor. Imagine if you found out from someone else.”

  “No, he hasn’t. He’ll be choosing a Queen that projects peace and stability to the fine residents of Chronopolis.” I ignored my bandmates’ snickers. “Per order of The League. They don’t think his subjects will fight for him if he keeps slumming with the likes of me.”

  Teal couldn’t stay still for long, her feet moved on her double bass drum. “The League’s always been out of touch with what people actually want. That’s why they’re losing support. Good riddance to them. Of course, they’ll make Asher their scapegoat. And he’ll go along with it because there’s no better penis extender than the title of King.”

  “He doesn’t need a penis extender.” I punctuated my statement with another strum. I communicated better through music. As sirens, we were our song. “It pisses me off that he’d rather spend eternity—and I do mean eternity—with a woman he doesn’t give a crap about. He deserves better. And who’d agree to that anyway?”

  “An arranged marriage to the King? There will be a line outside his castle the minute he makes that plan known. What little girl didn’t grow up dreaming of being Queen?” Teal gave me an apologetic glance. “Sorry.”

  “Not me.” Penelope’s lemon-sucking face was back. “I’ve never been happier since we were stripped of our titles. All that needless stress. Gone. You don’t want to be with a guy who lives in a castle anyway. It’s a total dick move.”

  “It doesn’t matter where he lives.” I put my guitar down. I didn’t feel like playing anymore. “I make him stronger.”

  Teal put her hand on my knee. “You kill him every time he fucks you.” I thought she was going to offer some support. “It’s not strong, it’s dead.”

  “He says I’m taking his humanity from him.” I sighed and curled into a ball, still stinging from the dropping his heart in the ashes of the other guys I’d been with comment. “That I’m making him a monster. Like I’m the monster.”

  “You are so not a monster. That’s the problem with The League. They’re terrified of strong women. That’s why they dissolved our Queendom. It had nothing to do with pirates invading. You’re smart, talented, funny, not to mention sexy as fuck. You’re a threat to everything they hold near and dear.” Penelope grabbed my hands and pulled me off the couch. “This pity party stops now. We have a show to play in two hours. Every man in the room will be drooling over you. Willing to die to have you in his bed. As usual. You want to get your King back? Be the woman who makes him crawl out of his grave every single time because he can’t stand the thought of never having another taste of her. He might be a phoenix, but he comes back to life for you.”

  Asher wasn’t the only one who wanted more than he had. We as sirens had experienced everything but love. Sure, we had families and friends, but we never took a blind leap into something that had no guarantees with someone else. There were plenty of men who’d do anything to get my attention, but they had no idea why they were doing it. It wasn’t fair, really. We lured them in, like we were the other side of the same magnet. They didn’t stand a chance. But to have someone want to spend time with me because they cared about me and not just because they want to get in my pants…although the getting in my pants part was a lot of fun, I was bored with it.

  Many of the supernatural creatures in the area wouldn’t come anywhere near the sirens that lived in Chronopolis Bay. Their loyalties were bound to The League, and more than that, they knew how the night would end. In a watery grave.

  But the humans couldn’t stay away. Our story was a legend among them, but they all had one thing in common: they had a hard time believing anything that didn’t apply to them. Like they were the center of the universe. Ha. For that reason, I picked my partners carefully. Teal and Penelope weren’t as kind, but more honest, since they referred to them as victims. We’d made a pact long ago to only lure the humans who had smudges of grime on th
eir souls. The ones who’d done something unforgivably wrong and had managed to slip through the cracks of their own justice system. It made it much easier to watch their lifeless bodies fall into the depths of the sea.

  Asher wasn’t like that. He was a good man who cared about the people who lived in his city, and their futures. The League had picked well when they made him their King. The title had changed him. There was no way it couldn’t. He could blame it on me all he wanted, if that got him through one rebirth to another. Being King required making hard decisions with no good outcome. Choosing the lesser of two evils wore away at his optimism. He didn’t like to talk about it, but I always knew when he made a choice that was tough to swallow. It came through in his kisses, hungry and desperate, and the way he needed my body after something horrible had happened. I brought him back to life.

  More than anything, I knew he didn’t believe in The League. Coming to see me was asking for trouble. Nothing more, nothing less. It burned that he wouldn’t come clean with The League about what he really wanted.

  He was willing to reject the one person who understood what he was going through. Someone who knew that doing the right thing sometimes hurt other people. A supernatural who didn’t play by human rules because she couldn’t. Some choices had no good outcomes. He thought this one would make him better, but it would eat him alive.

  The League had to be destroyed.

  But it wasn’t my problem, I kept telling myself that. The Bay was my problem, or it was. I wished I could be like Teal and Penelope, content with the band and watching the Kingdoms destroy themselves from afar.

  I’d play that nights show and let some gorgeous, damaged man’s haunting memories draw him to me, like a moth to the flame. Anything to forget Asher MacKay.

  Like that was even possible.

  We could’ve played a bigger venue anywhere inside the walls of the city, if we were welcome there. It didn’t matter, we liked The Alibi. The old bar was close to the water and had been owned by a siren since Chronopolis was nothing more than a place for merchants to sell their wares and sailors to replenish their ships before returning to their mistress, the sea. It was a little rundown, but the drinks were cheap and strong, and it attracted the crowd we were looking for—men that didn’t stay in one place for too long, ones that felt more comfortable in the shadows of the city walls. Ones that had the same intentions for us as we did for them.

  It should’ve bothered me a lot more than it did. They didn’t understand what they were in for when they tangled with us. I’d become numb to it—the shock, the pleading, and the bargaining with their maker for a divine intervention when their lives flickered before their dying eyes. We took what we needed from them, and then had no use for them. That was the cycle. There was a one in a million chance that a human man, no matter how sinister, could overpower us. In the unlikely event that it happened, we still had a whole ocean full of creatures that had our back. The other sirens and selkies that made their home near the shore, and the merpeople below the surface; they remained loyal to us. We’d kept them safe for centuries.

  The few women who came to our shows always stayed on the perimeter, unwilling to fight the swarm of men jockeying for position in front of the stage. The human women came to see if the legends were true, if the women of Siren’s Song were truly irresistible. They’d often leave convinced and in frustration halfway through the show.

  Supernatural women only came to see us play if they were trying to prove a point. Above the surface of the ocean, we didn’t have many friends in the realm that should’ve welcomed us. As much as my bandmates thought Asher was nothing more than a booty call and a figurehead, I knew if he was true to himself and chose me as his Queen it would strengthen our reputation and standing in the community.

  Teal stood by the stage door, waiting for the emcee to announce us. Drumming was hot, hard work, and she wore as little as possible—booty shorts and a cut up T-shirt that let her bra peek through. She twirled her drumsticks in anticipation. The shadow spun against the wall, making her seem larger than life. “I know you really like Asher. But it can’t end the way you want it to.”

  So much for the zen I’d worked up before the show. I nodded, concentrating more on my guitar than her.

  “He cares about you.” She smiled sadly when I gasped. Penelope came up behind us, and Teal moved closer to me. The emcee announced us, and the crowd almost drowned out the rest of what she had to say. “He’ll make the right decision.”

  Sometimes Teal’s advice sounded like it came from a magic eight ball, but it always wound up making sense. I didn’t have time to think about it as I stepped on stage—the energy of the crowd swallowed me.

  “Hey everyone,” I said when I stepped up to the microphone and surveyed the crowd. “How many of you are seeing Siren’s Song for the first time tonight?”

  About half the crowd roared in response. Penelope joined me, her bass strapped over her back. We had to start slow or else we’d completely overwhelm every human in the room.

  “Good. We like virgins.” I expected the chuckle that rolled over the crowd. “We’ll break you in gently, but by the end of the show you’ll be ruined for any other woman.”

  I let the music do the rest of the talking for me. I only played acoustic guitar. Every eye in the room was glued to my fingers as I plucked and coaxed the notes from my instrument. I loved the range of emotion I could evoke just by running my hand up the neck of the guitar, stopping at the spot that made it cry out in ecstasy. I made sure every man in the room imagined my hands on him instead of the guitar.

  The crowd fell silent when Penelope joined me in song every night. Our melodies melted together, high and pure. The rhythm lulled everyone into a trance, only broken when we sang on our own.

  My solo songs were my favorite part of the show. For those few minutes a night, I let myself pretend that the men who called my name wanted me, not because they’d been seduced by my song.

  I scanned the crowd, looking for the one I’d take to the water after the show. I came up with niceties to distract myself from what I’d really planned to do with the one I picked. A man with dark eyes stared up at me from the front row, his mouth slightly open. His gray T-shirt clung to his chest in the hot room. As much as I’d love see if his fingers moved like mine, he wasn’t the one. His adoration was for someone else. I focused on the one behind him, the one with the oily smirk that stripped away my tube top and gypsy pants. If he got his hands on me, he’d want to prove I had no hold over him. That The Bay was his.

  He was the one.

  “Everyone! Take two steps back! Only people with passes will be admitted backstage.” Our bodyguards formed a supernatural wall between the crowd and the backstage area. What happened next was shrouded in secrecy, because the only people who lived to tell about it were the sirens, and we weren’t talking.

  “Did you see one you want?” Penelope collapsed on the couch, letting her head fall back. Sweat ran down her neck and chest. Her dark hair clung to her face, leaving only her crimson lips visible.

  “Not really.” I lied.

  “Avila, you have to take someone tonight. You can’t let yourself get hung up on Asher.” Penelope angled the screen toward me. The cameras were trained on the crowd, and we used it to show the guards who we picked.

  “Pick someone and screw him like you’ll never see him again.” Teal laughed. It had been our joke for years. The laughter fell off when I glared at her. “This is who you are. Don’t let The League or His Majesty ever change that.”

  I motioned for the guard to come to the screen. “That one.” The girls whooped when I pointed to the man from the crowd with the nasty smile and a past sure to make me shiver. His gaze told me he’d convinced himself the night would end with him fucking me.

  Not exactly. I’d never admit to my friends I’d stopped having sex with anyone but Asher long ago. I found satisfaction in other ways, luring them in and taking out my frustrations with The Bay, The League, and Hi
s Majesty on them. I snapped their necks, and they were dead before their bodies slapped against the ocean waves. If I couldn’t get what I wanted, neither would anyone else.

  Chapter Three

  “This is the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever seen.” Penelope could barely get the words out, wiping tears of laughter away from her eyes. Mascara smudged her cheeks as she tried to catch her breath. “His Majesty straight up placed a want ad for a wife.”

  She motioned for us to come read it for ourselves. Teal snatched the phone from her. “He’ll be the laughing stock of the region. Can you imagine other kings reading this? The people in their kingdoms? He’s welcoming enemies into the fold. Especially since he only wants a mate with supernatural abilities—” She made air quotes with her free hand “—They’ll pull the wool over his eyes so fucking fast he’ll have no idea what hit him when Chronopolis gets invaded.”

  I had no desire to see the announcement, but I knew I didn’t have that luxury. The King advertising for a Queen was major news. Even if I could get out of it now, it would be all anyone would be talking about until he made his pick. Forewarned was forearmed and all that. “What does it say?”

  “Brace yourself. It says—” Teal cleared her throat “—His Majesty, Asher Mackay, seeks a mate that shares the core values of the Kingdom of Chronopolis. A strong woman who will not hesitate to lead in the King’s absence, and who understands that peaceful unions are the ultimate goal of the Kingdom. Supernatural abilities a must. Leadership experience preferred. Is this a job interview or a dating ad? Holy starfish… Anyway. The King would prefer to make a resident of Chronopolis his Queen. Current social status will be taken into consideration.”

  “Do I swipe left or right to say hell to the no?” Penelope asked.

  “Let me see that.” I snatched the phone from Teal. “He didn’t write this.”

  He couldn’t have risen yet. As I understood it, his demises—they weren’t exactly a true death—happened either after he shifted or after he had sex. The extreme highs and lows destroyed him. It took a little longer for him to come back each time, which scared the hell out of me. In his absence, Chronopolis fell into a low-level state of chaos. Not enough that outsiders would think their King had taken a sick day, or week, but enough to give The League heart palpitations.