Siren's Song

by Kaye Draper

  Grey heaved a massive sigh that seemed to come from his soul. He was so damned tired. Tired of hiding. Tired of pretending. Tired of every fucking thing. “Yeah.” He shifted uncomfortably in his seat. “Yeah, I am. I’m sorry I lied to you that first night.” He watched Luca, afraid what his reaction might be, but unable to tell what he was thinking. “And? You pissed? Creeped out?”

  Luca glanced at him, and Grey was relieved to see that his expression wasn’t horrified. “Why do you try so hard to hide it? It’s not like it’s illegal to be a morph. It’s not like you can help what happened.”

  Grey let out a dry laugh. “You’ve never met my friend, Abbie.” He turned in the seat to face Luca, pulling one leg up and wrapping his arm around his knee. “If you saw the way people treat her, the shit she has to put up with...all because she refuses to pretend that she is anything other than a woman literally trapped in a man’s body.” He shook his head. It was impossible to explain to a natural male. “I’m taking the easy way out. I guess it pisses me off to be reminded.”

  Luca reached over and ruffled Grey's hair like a little kid, startling him out of his dark contemplation of the center console. Grey looked up to find Luca studying him out of the corner of those blue eyes with an intense sort of curiosity. “What were you like when you were a girl?”

  Grey laughed. “Pay attention to the road.” He unfolded himself. “Weak. I was shy, and ugly, and I had no personality whatsoever.”

  Luca shook his head as he brought the car to a stop outside the trailer park. “I don’t believe that for one second. You certainly have an excess of personality now. What happened?" He grinned. "I mean, besides the obvious.”

  Grey opened the door and hopped out of the car. He leaned on the car door and peered in at Luca. “Tell you what, I’m always tagging along with you wherever you go. Come with me tomorrow and I’ll show you what I do for fun.”

  Chapter 13

  The next afternoon, Grey met Luca and they walked into Old Town. While Grey was perfectly comfortable in his usual jeans and hoodie, Luca turned up with a long black wool coat that made him look even taller and more mysterious than usual. He smirked at Grey as he wound his pink scarf around his neck. The smug jackass.

  “You sure you’re going to be warm enough?” Luca asked for the third time. “I can drive us over if you want.”

  Grey shook his head. “I’m fine.”

  Luca raised a dark eyebrow. “You must be cold-blooded.”

  If he only knew. They headed down the street, taking a shortcut to get to the row of businesses crammed into the center of town. A cool breeze whipped down the alley, lifting some of Luca’s shiny hair free from its ponytail and making him shiver and hunch into his light jacket. It didn’t bother Grey at all. A random gull wheeled by over the buildings and Grey felt like he could almost stretch out his mind and fly with it out over the ocean, away from all the drama on this craptastic little burg. He heaved a sigh.

  Luca glanced at him, misinterpreting his mood. “Are you sure you want to hang out with me? I know Cameron invited you to watch the game…kinda slacking on your stalking lately, aren’t you?”

  Grey shrugged, not sure how to say, “I’d rather spend time with you,” without it sounding like the confession it was. Instead, he glared at Luca as if being called a stalker had bothered him. He turned to a bright orange door in the brick façade, packed between the pharmacy and a carpet remnant store. He held the door open and gestured to Luca in invitation. “Welcome to the dojo.”

  It didn’t take long to get changed and guide Luca through some easy warm-ups. Then they moved on to more advanced stuff. Grey threw a roundhouse kick that hit the top of the six-foot bag, body elongated, fists up in front of his face, foot pointed. The top of his foot hit the bag with a solid slap, and he returned to two feet in a fluid, controlled motion.

  “The recovery is just as important as the delivery,” he said. “You should return to fighting stance with control, not just fall into it.”

  Luca nodded, his face intent. He moved to the bag and dropped into stance, knees bent, one foot slightly forward, and fists up to “protect the pretty,” as master Jones always said. Grey watched him with admiration. The way he moved was just plain gorgeous, like water pouring from a pitcher.

  When Luca had enough of drilling the various punches and kicks, Grey decided to show him some releases and grappling moves. “To fight off your adoring fans,” he teased.

  Luca snorted at that but didn’t comment. He had been largely silent since they got there. Grey knew he was just absorbing what he was learning. The great thing about hanging out with Luca was that there wasn’t a need for constant chit-chat. If Grey had chosen to take up Cameron’s invitation, he’d probably be surrounded by half-drunk, belligerent jocks right now. All his stupid romantic preferences aside, the peace of the nearly deserted dojo and Luca’s calm presence was a thousand times better than hanging out with the meatheads.

  “Okay,” Grey said, facing him. “Grab my wrist.”

  Luca did as instructed, wrapping his long fingers all the way around Grey’s arm. “Like this?”

  Luca’s palm was warm on his skin and sweat sprang up between them. Grey ignored the little zing that thrilled through him at just that single, stupidly innocent touch. "You got it." Then he proceeded to slip from the hold, showing Luca the weak points in his grip.

  They ended the evening with Nelsons and half Nelsons. “Here. You’re taller. Hunching up like that has to be killing your back. You do it to me,” Grey said at one point, turning away and drawing Luca’s arms into position around him. Luca pulled Grey in tight, Grey's arms immobilized above him, and his back against Luca's chest, palms interlaced behind the back of his head.

  “Like this?” Luca's deep voice spoke right in Grey’s ear, the breath stirring his hair and sending goosebumps dancing along his skin as Luca held him immobile.

  Grey slipped the hold easily and turned aside, face flaming. “You know,” he said in a rush, “on second thought, this is a little too advanced. Maybe we should quit now. It’s getting late.”

  Luca caught up to Grey as he headed across the now empty dojo to get his gym bag. Grey had been a staple at this place for four years now. The other students and staff had filtered out hours ago, but Grey helped out with beginner classes from time to time and did cleaning on the weekends, and he had been entrusted with locking up.

  “Hey,” Luca said, his long legs easily keeping pace with Grey. “What’s up? Are you okay? Did I do something wrong?”

  Grey realized he was acting strange, but he just couldn’t help it. He had to go. Now. For fuck’s sake. “Uh, yeah. I’m fine,” he mumbled, grabbing the strap of his duffel bag.

  Luca took the bag from him. “Hey, Grey. Look at me, will you?”

  Grey slowly turned and faced him, his gaze focused on a point over Luca’s left shoulder. Luca was silent for a moment. God damn it. He should have worn his compression shorts under his uniform. But Grey had been in a hurry, and he knew they wouldn’t be doing anything too crazy, so he left them at home. He cursed his freakish body and the thin fabric of his Gi, which left nothing to the imagination. The Cosmic Joke was blatantly obvious. Yep, massive erection on full display. Awesome.

  “Oh.” Luca breathed, choking on the laugh that tried to burst out.

  He handed Grey’s bag back. Grey took it and slung it over his shoulder, his face on fire.

  Luca picked up his sweatshirt and laughed. “You’re really cute when you’re embarrassed.”

  Grey refused to look at him. “Shut. Up.”

  A big hand gripped Grey's wrist, and Luca spun him around. “Wait a minute. Just a second ago, you were ordering me around, being all bossy and forceful and ready to kick my ass. And now you’re shy? Who are you and what have you done with the guy who pulverizes lesser men?”

  Grey gritted his teeth and refused to meet Luca’s eyes. “Sorry.”

  “Look at me,” Luca said softly.

  Grey
pulled against his grip, prepared to use the techniques he had just shown Luca if it would get him out of there any faster.

  “Grey. Look at me.” Something in Luca's deep voice made Grey glance up.

  “You’re not listening to me,” Luca said in a whisper, his eyes as dark as the midnight sea. “I didn’t say you’re gross. I didn’t say anything about how messed up you are. Why do you always beat yourself up like this?”

  Luca pulled him a step closer, his hand still wrapped firmly around Grey’s wrist. “I didn’t say I was disgusted. I said.” Tug. “It’s cute.” Tug.

  Luca slowly pressed Grey’s hand to his own body, against the hard length of his own arousal. Apparently, Grey wasn’t the only one all hot and bothered by all the physical contact. Luca’s stormy eyes never wavered as his long fingers smoothed over the back of Grey’s hand, insinuating something more.

  And God, he wanted to…Grey jerked his hand away as if he had been burned, his face flaming.

  What the hell? What was he doing? He was only allowed to hang out with Luca because he thought Grey’s attention was directed at Cameron. If Luca knew, he’d be disgusted…or…not? They stood staring at each other, electric current passing between them as they stood breathless on the brink of action, too close to falling right over the edge.

  The door chimed as the cleaning guy came in. “Hellooo…” he called. “Anyone still here?”

  Luca deftly tied his sweatshirt around his lean hips as Grey shifted his duffel bag to hang across the front of his body.

  “Just leaving,” Grey called. His voice cracked absurdly, and he cleared his throat, not daring to look at Luca.

  A burst of cold air hit them as they left the dojo. The door swung shut behind Grey and he stopped in his tracks, swaying when Luca walked into him then grabbed his shoulders to catch himself, holding Grey with his back to Luca’s chest.

  “What the hell?” Grey breathed, the sound of his voice lost in the sudden cacophony around them.

  The biggest flock of seagulls Grey had ever seen lifted from the street in front of the dojo. They swirled for a moment, like a demented cyclone of gray and white that blocked out all the light, their cries echoing off the close rows of shops and business. Then they lifted upward, over the tops of the brick buildings and out toward the sea.

  “I think we should go home.” Luca brushed past, and Grey fell into step behind him. The cold air helped to cool Grey's flushed cheeks and calm his rapid breathing. But the walk home was tense. It seemed that neither of them really knew what to say. Luca left Grey at his house with a hurried “See ya,” clearly regretting his impulsive actions earlier, and Grey could barely mumble a reply.

  Good going, Grey. Perfect. Wonderful. Fuck my life.

  Chapter 14

  Grey squared his shoulders, pushed his hood back from his head, and stepped inside the studio. He stood in the warm lobby for a moment, letting the place soak in, feeling the echo of action and movement as it carried to him across the glossy stone tiles. It was a place buzzing with activity, with momentum. He had never been inside a music studio before. It seemed too normal somehow, but wonderful all the same.

  And even more magical, was the way the place was thriving, despite the quarantine and all the other bullshit outside those shiny doors. Music wasn’t something that could be held back by physical restrictions. It was a force all its own.

  Grey could imagine the look on his father’s face if he knew what his daughter-turned-son was about to do. Rick would have an aneurysm. Grey grinned at the thought. This was a starting over. It was a way to triumph over all the crap he’d been through the last four years, an acceptance of who he was now. He tried not to think about what had prompted it—the overwhelming need to be closer to Luca, to be part of his life in a more permanent way, that was only a small part of it.

  Who says Luca wants you to be part of his band anyway? After the dojo mess and Luca’s abrupt about-face, he’d seemed pretty eager to get away from Grey.

  Stomping on his insecurities, Grey made his way over to a self-important man in a button-down shirt with purposefully messy hair and wacky horn-rimmed glasses. The man eyed Grey while he stood there, hands in his pockets, waiting for the fashionista to finish his phone call. Grey’s eyes traveled over the sign above his head. Island Records. It was Tera's one small claim to fame.

  “Can I help you?” The man hung up the phone and looked over the top of his glasses at Grey like something he’d just stepped in. There was a burst of music from somewhere, followed by boisterous laughter and the sound of a heavy door clicking shut.

  “Hi.” Grey cleared his throat. “I’m Grey Thorne.” He held up the crumpled sheet of paper that had been in his sweatshirt pocket for almost two weeks. “I’m here to audition for Lucifer.”

  The guy raised his eyebrows. “Sure you are.” He shook his head and made a shooing gesture. “Shouldn’t you be in school right now? We don’t have time to waste on kids.”

  Grey glowered at him. Of course, no one would take him seriously. He brushed his hair back out of his eyes, clenched his fists, and rocked forward on his toes. “Look, dude.…”

  A long arm snaked around his shoulder and Grey tensed at the caress of Luca’s deep voice, even as his gaze guiltily slid sideways to take in the guitarist’s dark perfection. All the piercings were present, and he was wearing eyeliner to go with his soft grey band t-shirt and his black leather pants. A wide leather cuff with metal studs winked at Grey, where Luca’s arm still hung from around his shoulders. Grey couldn’t help it. He sniffed him a little. Like a creep. Luca always smelled so damned good…some scent he couldn’t put a name to that immediately made Grey think of water.

  “It’s an open audition Sean,” Luca said lightly, oblivious to how Grey was quietly losing his mind. “Why are you hassling the poor guy?”

  Grey made a colossal effort to get a grip. He shrugged out from under Luca’s arm and jerked his clothing straight. “Shouldn’t you be off listening to auditions or something?”

  Luca grinned down at him and ruffled his hair, like nothing weird had ever passed between them. Grey let out a mental sigh of relief at his casual ease. If Luca could forget the awkwardness at the dojo, so could Grey.

  “We took a break,” Luca explained. “Found a few that were okay, but we had to listen to a lot of crap to get to them. Why didn’t you tell me you were coming?”

  Sean looked down his nose at them. “You know this kid?”

  Grey must have started scowling again because Luca put a hand on his shoulder, turned him, and propelled him down the hall. “Don’t go all library rally on the reception staff,” he stage whispered from behind one graceful hand. “I’m pretty sure he’s just a jerk, not an activist.”

  Grey huffed like he was offended, but it was all show. He was way too nervous to be offended. His stomach hurt, there was a rushing in his ears, and he had a bad feeling that he was about to thoroughly embarrass himself. He didn’t even know why he was here. Something about starting over, triumphing, self-acceptance…blah, blah, blah. This was a terrible idea.

  Luca led him down the glossy corridor and into a medium-sized room with a low, portable stage. A couple short rows of folding chairs were arranged in an arc facing the stage, with the rest of Lucifer seated front and center. Ethan glanced back and happened to see Grey. The blond heartthrob waved enthusiastically, and the back of Grey's neck stiffened. Ethan nudged Matheus to get his attention and pointed at Grey. Mat’s bored expression slid into a wicked smirk. Grey’s throat went dry. So much embarrassment was about to ensue.

  There were about ten other guys standing in a line off to one side of the room. Luca herded Grey to the back of the line and handed him a piece of paper with a number ninety-eight written on it. Then he turned away and acted as if he didn’t know the newcomer. The paper had a loop of string attached to it and, after an embarrassed glance at the other guys in line, Grey hung it around his neck.

  Once Luca took his seat, a balding guy Grey assu
med must be Lucifer’s manager and another guy he didn’t recognize came in and joined the band. The band and their staff all held little clipboards. Matheus’s clipboard dangled from his chair and—once he was done leering at Grey—his eyes were glazed, as if listening to one more audition might actually kill him. Apparently, it had been a rough morning.

  Auditions started up again. Each hopeful singer was asked several questions about his musical experience, then given a short piece of a pre-recorded Lucifer song to demonstrate his vocals. As each candidate went, the knot in Grey’s stomach got worse. He must have been out of his mind to come here. These other guys were dressed up, some in Lucifer’s typical goth-punk style, others looking like they belonged on the cover of a rock magazine or a boy band poster. They had been in family bands since they were five, or took formal voice lessons, or played and sang at local venues.

  The ones who didn’t have all that going for them were complete flops.

  When his turn came, Grey stepped up on stage in his baggy sweatshirt and faded jeans. His stupid curls kept falling into his face, and he blew his hair back with a huff, feeling like an idiot. Luca leaned forward and spoke into a small mic that sat on a folding table in front of the band. He introduced the band, their manager, George, and the other man who turned out to be a producer at the studio. All this without a sign that he had ever met Grey before in his life. “Do you have any prior singing experience?”

  Grey had been trying to figure out how to answer that question since he’d stepped into this room. He had played the lead in a few high school musicals. He sang in the opera group at the community college. He’d done weddings. Took classical music workshops. All as a girl.

  Mostly, the music just…happened inside him. But that wasn’t something he could explain to anyone else without sounding like a complete nut job.

  Grey swallowed hard around the lump in his throat and lifted his head. “I don’t have any experience,” he said making, sure to project his voice. “But I can sing.”