Siren's Song

by Kaye Draper

  Arianna had created a paradise for herself, an unending supply of men—of servants and worshippers. She stretched, feeling very satisfied with herself. The gods insisted that their kind not mettle in the affairs of humans. Of course, they all dabbled with the odd human here and there, but nothing to effect humanity in any noticeable way. She had broken that rule, and someday she would be punished. She relished the thought of a face-off with the pompous beings that called themselves gods nearly as much as she feared it.

  Arianna shook herself and refused to fret over what may or may not come to pass. The gods wouldn’t stir themselves to act. They were notoriously lazy these days, and there were whispers that they were fading, losing power in the face of the humans’ lack of belief. Just one more reason the gods were stupid for being so attached to the creatures. Humans were only tools, livestock.

  Maybe she would let one of her lucky servants try to pleasure her tonight. If he succeeded in distracting her, she could be generous. Perhaps her interest in men hadn’t completely died out after all. They still had their uses, as long as they were reminded of their place.

  She smiled to herself as she slipped into the water’s cool embrace. Without a trace of human conscience, she struck out toward the island to feed.

  She stepped from the frothy waves onto the damp, packed sand. Her gauzy blue dress clung to her curves, a bare whisper of a garment. As she walked, the fabric dried in the breeze. It went dancing about her long, shapely legs to the wild tempo of the wind. Long tresses whipped this way and that, a cyclone of pale blond.

  She stretched out her arms and breathed deep of the island air. The sea was cooling, but she wasn’t bothered by its chill. Her gem-bright eyes glittered with anticipation as she gazed inland at the city that was hers. She hummed a sultry tune as she skipped toward the boardwalk. She could almost feel the hungry eyes of the men—her men—on her even now. Surely no other woman was as worshiped and adored, no other goddess so blessed, as to have an entire island of men at her disposal.

  But as she approached her city, something irritated her. It buzzed over her skin in an unpleasant hum, then was gone. Her eyes narrowed.

  Someone was where they should not be.

  Chapter 4

  Grey stepped outside and shut the door of his 1970’s single-wide, giving it a last hard pull to make sure it latched. The trailer was a relic, but it had been dirt cheap, and he and his dad could usually manage to fix anything that needed fixing without shelling out a ton of cash—all important considerations when the island’s economy had tanked after The Change. The measly allowance the government had doled out to assist the first couple years was a joke. It had barely covered a couple months’ rent.

  He headed out of the trailer park, passing under the decorative wrought iron arch at the entrance. Grey had always thought that thing would look more appropriate at the entrance to a cemetery.

  Luca and Cameron’s house was only a couple blocks away, though in terms of the change in scenery as he went, it might as well have been miles. Grey’s stomach was a fluttery mess at the thought of hanging out with Luca and Cameron. He nearly tripped over his own feet on the way up the front steps like some idiot schoolgirl drooling over her first crush.

  A harsh cry drew his attention, and he looked skyward, drawing in a deep breath as he watched a gull wheeling overhead. The stupid things were everywhere.

  He turned his attention back to the red door in front of him. Breathe, Grey. Don’t be dumb. Grey had been aware of Cameron peripherally through school, but they hadn’t ever really met until high school, when they had a handful of classes together. They had only spoken a few times, and Grace—as Grey had been known then—had been overcome with painful embarrassment every time. But for some reason, she had never quite gotten over the crush. The night before The Change, Grace had vowed to herself that she would tell Cameron her feelings before they graduated and Cameron went off to the mainland on a sports scholarship. But when the next day dawned, everything was different.

  For a while, Grey forgot all about Cameron in the wake of more pressing developments, like waking up in a new body—with a penis. But Cameron didn’t go away to college. He couldn’t, thanks to the quarantine. Grey still saw him around town, and occasionally on their shared college campus, but since Grey couldn’t act on his feelings, he bottled them up. Just like every other emotion he’d had to hide since The Change.

  Deep inside, he still imagined that one day he would turn back into a woman. Then maybe he would make Cameron take notice. It was a stupid thought. Even if everything was back to normal, Grace was beneath notice. She hadn’t known Cameron before, and was really not likely to have the balls to fix that situation now.

  But in a lot of ways, it was like Grey was frozen at seventeen. Like this life now was all just a bad dream he’d wake up from any minute. So, the teenage fantasy lingered.

  Grey took a deep breath, gave himself a reality check, and knocked on the door. He had to stop acting like a lovesick kid. Whatever strange event had caused The Change—and theories ranged from biological experimentation to heavenly judgment and everything in between—it didn’t look like it was going to happen again. If he still wanted Cameron to notice him, then he was damned well going to have to do something about it, no matter what the circumstances.

  Grey was surprised when the object of his obsession answered the door. He had been expecting Luca. “Uh, hey,” he said nervously, giving Cameron a corny wave. “Luca said I should come by.”

  Cameron stepped back and waved him in. “They’re in the living room.”

  The jock was wearing a t-shirt with the Island Community College logo on it, and his short, scruffy blond stubble and messy hair were a shock. He always looked so clean cut at school. Grey felt a wash of warmth at this glimpse of Cameron with his guard down.

  He could feel Cameron’s eyes sliding sideways toward him as the jock led him down a narrow hallway and into the house, toward the sound of masculine laughter. He knew he was quite a sight. One eye was black, and his lip was scabbed but still swollen—not that he was expecting to win Cameron over with his looks or anything.

  If that was even really what he wanted.

  Grey remembered all too well what Luca had said about Cameron liking women. Hell, the jock had dated at least half the cheerleading squad when they were in high school. Grey still had to wonder why a guy would try to hook his very straight brother up with another man.

  “Hey,” Cameron said quietly, jerking Grey out of his train of thought. “I’m sorry about Jordan.” Grey stared at him blankly and Cameron gestured. “The guy who did that to your face. It was between you guys, but Luca chewed my ass about it. He was right. I should have tried to stop it. It wasn’t a fair fight.”

  Grey stuffed his hands into his jeans pockets and shrugged. “Not your problem.” He grinned and his split lip throbbed. “Besides, I could have taken him if I hadn’t let myself get distracted. My own fault for being so dumb.”

  Cameron raised his fair brows as he looked down at Grey, clearly skeptical. He was every bit as tall as his brother, well over six foot. Grey wondered what they fed the kids in this family.

  They reached the living room and Cameron kept walking, headed through the room and into the kitchen, where a couple of his cronies hung out in a cloud of cigarette smoke, arguing over some sports play. Grey’s spirits dropped a bit. It looked like Cameron wasn’t hanging out with Luca and his friends after all.

  The members of Lucifer were sprawled around the living room on beanbag chairs and the sumptuous gray suede sectional, laughing and yelling at the game they were playing on the TV. Grey took in the eclectic room with curiosity. Sports team logos and pictures of game day crowds were interspersed with music posters and a couple of oil paintings of stormy ocean scenes. Grey wondered at the casual blending of artsy class and all-America man-cave that defined the day and night personalities of the brothers who shared the space. Luca jumped up and grabbed his beer off an end table. The eyeli
ner was absent tonight, and his hair hung in glossy disarray around his sharp jaw. It made him look softer somehow, less like an aspiring rock star, which made Grey feel suddenly all off-kilter again.

  “Hey, Grey! Come over here and give it a try.” Luca gestured at his abandoned controller and pulled Grey into the room with a long arm around his shoulders. "If someone doesn’t kick his ass, Ethan is going to end up as cocky as Mat. I’ll never be able to stand the two of them.”

  Grey took in the smug expression on the drummer’s face. Ethan was the happy-go-lucky one of the bunch. It was weird to see him looking so serious. He pushed his white-blond hair out of his eyes and laughed. “Ha! Good luck.”

  Grey shrugged and tried not to be too obvious as he checked out the tattoos that covered the drummer’s muscular arms in an intricate swirl of blues, greens, and black. “Sure, you’re on.”

  He grabbed the controller and sat cross-legged on the floor, but when he really looked at the screen, he realized that they were playing in teams. Football. Grey was pretty good at video games in general. It was a popular hobby when you were stuck on an island. But he hated sports games. He expected Luca to take up the other controller for his team, but instead the guitarist winked and yelled toward the kitchen.

  “Cam! Help me!”

  Cameron came out of the kitchen to see what the racket was about. Arching a brow, he snorted. “This is gay. Go play real football.”

  Grey didn’t miss Luca’s almost imperceptible wince at his brother’s choice of words. “Cam. What have I told you about that damned word?”

  Cameron rolled his eyes so hard it was a wonder they didn’t get stuck that way. “It’s just a saying. Chill the fuck out.”

  Grey was touched by Luca’s concern, but he didn’t care. It was what it was. People spouted shit without thinking all the time. Still…it was gutsy, calling other people out like that. Made Grey kind of wish he wasn’t such a coward himself.

  It took a bit of begging on Luca’s part, but eventually Cameron sat down beside Grey, grumbling all the while. His friends came to lean over the back of the couch, smirking at the not-cool group of emo musicians playing kids’ games—but funny how they weren’t too cool to want to watch.

  “Not fair!” Ethan whined. “He’s a jock.”

  Grey grinned at him. “Oh, suck it up, princess. It isn’t real football. But you are about to get your ass handed to you.”

  Luca met Grey’s eyes and winked. Grey flushed and turned his attention back to the TV screen, trying not to notice the brush of Cameron's knee against his as he leaned forward, intent on the game. He could smell Cameron’s cologne and it made his nose twitch, the smell a bit too sharp and overpowering in the small space.

  “Shit!” Cameron turned a murderous blue glare on Grey. “What the hell are you doing, dude? Don’t just sit there. Pay attention!”

  Matheus laughed as he lounged on one end of the sectional like a long, lean cat. Lifting a hand, he covered his mouth, his expression never changing and his eyes staring right into Cameron’s. “Douche bag,” the bassist coughed under his breath.

  Cameron flushed with anger. Apparently, he and the broody brown-haired bassist didn’t exactly get along. “Eat me,” he snapped, earning a snicker from his group of friends.

  Luca reached out and smacked his brother in the back of the head so hard he almost fell off the couch. “Leave Mat alone and play.”

  Cameron looked at Grey with a grin that made his stomach do a little flip. “Don’t screw it up this time, cupcake.”

  They won. But Grey would be lying if he said he was sad when Cameron wandered off to go do who knew what kind of boring jock stuff with his jock friends. By that point, he was too busy listening to Ethan as the enthusiastic drummer waved his hands and hopped around, telling a story about their first gig and the rickety makeshift stage that had almost killed them all. Matheus shook his head as he looked up at the blond. Then he met Grey’s eyes and winked. “The best part was when idiot here knocked his drums over on stage.”

  “I did not!” Ethan insisted, picking up a throw pillow and launching it at Matheus’s head. “You tripped on the pedal and almost faceplanted into the crowd!”

  Grey laughed, picturing the two of them completely destroying their first gig. Luca flopped down beside him on the couch and handed him a soda. “They were both acting like idiots. It sounded like I had a herd of rhinos tromping around behind me while I was trying to play and concentrate on backing Steff up. But in their defense, the damned stage was tilted.” He held up one graceful hand and canted it at an angle. “And every time one of us moved, it tilted back the other way. Steff really did fall off the stage.” He snorted, his blue eyes twinkling with laughter. “It looked like he was trying to stage dive, but there wasn’t anyone there to catch him. He sprained his wrist and we had to listen to him bitch about it for a month.”

  Grey grinned at Luca. “I bet he has a different story. Where is he anyway?” The singer hadn’t been at the bar last night either.

  Luca’s smile faded a bit and Matheus and Ethan stopped trying to kill each other with the pillow. “He doesn’t usually hang out with us much anymore, outside of practice.”

  “He’s an asshole,” Matheus provided helpfully, not looking one bit guilty for talking about his bandmate.

  Ethan shook his head and gave Grey an apologetic smile. “Being in a band is more work than most people realize. Sometimes…people’s personalities don’t mesh.” He shrugged. “Or they drift apart.”

  Luca sighed. “It’s my fault. We got in a fight. Mat and Ethan took my side. So now we’re getting the silent treatment.” He waved it away. “It’ll pass.”

  Later that night Grey stood at the front door with Luca, not knowing what to feel. How to accept that he’d actually had fun. “Thanks for inviting me,” he mumbled. Lame.

  Luca laughed. “Sure. You can hang out whenever.”

  Matheus brushed by on his way out, arching a brow at Grey. “I guess we can tolerate him. If we have to.”

  Grey rolled his eyes. It was like saying something nice might physically hurt the broody brunette. Ethan grabbed one of Grey’s shoulders and gave it a squeeze. “Don’t let Mat scare you off.” His bright, sky-blue eyes were earnest. “Promise?”

  Grey laughed. “Um…sure?”

  Ethan nodded and hurried to scramble into Matheus’s car before his ride home left him standing on the sidewalk.

  Luca held the door for Grey and crossed his long arms over his chest, suppressing a shiver. His blue eyes slanted toward Grey, a keen look there. “It’s getting colder all the time. Have you noticed?”

  Grey shrugged. “The cold doesn't really bother me.” Were they really talking about the weather? Grey rubbed the back of his neck and looked at his sneakers. There was so much more that he wanted to say, but it didn’t seem like anything a guy would say, so he let it go.

  Luca’s eyes lost that sharp look, and his easy smile came back. He glanced over his shoulder to make sure no one was close by. “Cam normally wouldn’t tolerate Matheus for that long. It’s kind of cool to be able to have him hang out with the band. Believe it or not, he and I are usually really close. He’s been kind of distant lately. And idiotic. So…thanks.”

  Grey mumbled something appropriately non-sentimental and left. But there was a glow inside him, and it wasn’t from hanging out with Cameron. It had been a long time since he’d felt accepted like that. It was surprisingly nice to just be one of the guys.

  Chapter 5

  A couple days later, Grey brushed a hand along the rough red brick front of the Tera Shoe Emporium. He rarely ever had a day off work and his college classes at the same time, and he was enjoying the novel feeling of having nothing to do today.

  The historic downtown area of Tera was one of his favorite places on the island. While there were other small villages and sub-divisions scattered across the island, Tera was the main hub. And the historic area here carried the flavor of all the people and times that h
ad passed through. The streets were lined with adjacent brick row buildings of different heights and colors. Some sported scrolling gothic revival trim, others had a colonial feel, and a few had been giving a modern facelift, but they all housed a wide variety of shops and restaurants. Caged ornamental trees were interspersed with stone and iron benches where idle shoppers could stop and rest in the ocean-scented breeze that beckoned them from Seaway Drive the next block over. This little chunk of town was a lifesaver with its variety and flavors of other places. They had to have variety here. It wasn’t like the islanders could go looking for change anywhere else.

  Jealousy rose up, as it often did, for the people living on the mainland, where life went on as normal. Grey reminded himself, for what had to be the millionth time, that it was actually a good thing that Etna Island was the only place affected by The Change. While the residents of Etna would just as soon not be the only ones suffering, the ramifications of a worldwide “gender homogeny,” as some idiot scientist had named it, would have been devastating. If The Change had affected all human beings, it would have meant the death of the human race. The men would slowly age and die off with no more children to replace them, their only thin hope the temporary result of lab grown test tube babies. The whole world was happy that it had only happened here—and the quarantine was designed to keep it that way.

  But it was hard to be thankful about that when you lived on the island. Especially when you watched the news or read the paper. Many countries and cultures were sympathetic to the situation, though even the most sympathetic were still politely careful, following the quarantine and travel restrictions to the letter. There were lots of groups around the world who viewed the whole mess as some sort of judgment from God. The Christians prayed for the island while secretly being glad they weren’t in the same boat, the Catholics absolved the islanders of their sins as if they had done something wrong, the Buddhists viewed the mess as a challenge for the islanders to better themselves. But some of the more extreme religions—east and west—called for anything from eternal damnation to the mass extermination of all morphs on the island, dismissing them as degenerates, transvestites, and sodomites.