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by Jody Morse


  “They’re pretty,” I replied. I had never been to a wedding before, but I assumed that people typically didn’t just flaunt their engagement ring; I liked to think that most people weren’t that materialistic.

  “And what do you think, Jackson?” Angelica asked, tilting her head at him. Her long, blonde hair was in tight ringlets that fell over her shoulders; some of the strands were pulled into a tiny braid with a flower that matched the bridesmaids’ dresses. I had to admit that she was prettier than most of the models in the bridal magazines were.

  “It’s cool,” Jackson shrugged, glancing over at me. We both knew the question was an odd one to ask a guy—odd enough to make me question her motives.

  “George is planning on taking me to Jamaica for our honeymoon. We leave tomorrow night,” Angelica trilled. “Isn’t that just so exciting? Have you ever been to Jamaica, Jackson?”

  “Nope, I can’t say that I have,” Jackson replied.

  Angelica made a pouty face. “That’s a shame. I bet you’d look like model material without a shirt in that hot Jamaica heat.” She winked at him, and I nearly vomited in my mouth. Was she trying to flirt with my date?

  “Maybe we’ll have to go sometime,” Jackson said, turning to me. I knew that he was trying to remind her that he was my date; I wanted to remind Angelica that she had just gotten married.

  But Angelica didn’t seem to take the hint so easily. She continued with her ridiculous flirting, right in front of my face. “Jackson, that tuxedo looks just stunning on you. Where did you get it?”

  I rolled my eyes and pulled Jackson away from her. I would have left him there, but I knew that I couldn’t trust for him to be left alone with her; I trusted him, but not her.

  “What’s up with her?” Jackson whispered. “She’s a newlywed.”

  “Tell me about it,” I replied with a shrug. “I don’t think they really love each other.”

  Glancing over my shoulder at George, who was staring at me, confirmed that they both had wandering eyes, even after getting married.

  I couldn’t help but wonder why Angelica had insisted that I bring a date when George didn’t even have any family members who would find it suspicious if none of us had dates.

  Turning to Angelica, who was glaring at me, I wondered if the whole reason she’d insisted I bring Jackson was so that she could flirt with him. As he wrapped his arms around my waist, I could still feel her eyes on us. It made me want to prove to her that she wasn’t going to win whatever sick game it was that she was playing; I leaned in close to Jackson and, titling my chin, gave him the most passionate kiss I could.

  When I turned back to Angelica, I found that she still was staring, but this time, her expression had turned dark.

  Chapter 31

  Once everyone left, Jackson and I went upstairs to my new bedroom. I hadn’t wanted to sleepover after how Angelica had been acting, but she would be leaving early in the morning for her honeymoon, and Jackson thought it would be nice for us to be able to spend the night together. I had called Gram to let her know that I was going to spend the night at Gabrielle’s house, leaving out the part about Jackson sleeping over, too.

  I hadn’t told Angelica that Jackson was spending the night—but that was mostly because she had barely said two words to me since Jackson and I had kissed on the dance floor earlier that night. I knew that I had gotten under her skin, but I wasn’t sure. Did she have a thing for Jackson? That would make no sense; she didn’t even know him.

  Jackson took off his tuxedo and, wearing only his boxers, climbed into my bed, which we both found had soft, comfortable cotton sheets that must have had a really high thread count. “This is the life,” he said, sprawling out on the bed.

  I smiled at him. “I suppose.”

  “How do you know Angelica, again?” Jackson asked, and I realized that I’d never actually told him how I had met her.

  “She’s just an old friend,” I replied, even though I wanted to tell him everything. I wondered what he would do if he knew the truth; if he knew there was a chance that I could kill him, would he still have feelings for me . . . or would he want no part of me? It was too big of a risk to take.

  As I climbed into bed and curled up next to him, he wrapped his arms around me and within moments, I could hear him snoring softly. I smiled before drifting off to sleep myself.

  *

  Felicia. You must sing. Sing for me. The whispery voice was the first thing that I heard; it immediately brought me to alertness.

  I climbed out of bed and walked out of the room, down the staircase, and out the back door of the house. Once I was out of the house, I began walking through the backyard and into the neighbors’ backyard, making my way to the ocean.

  Although I was aware of my actions, I was in a complete trance, being guided by the whispery voice that echoed through my head.

  Once I was in the ocean, I immediately felt my body being enveloped by the salt water that soaked into my skin and seeped in my pores. As soon as the water hit my body, I found the strength to do what I knew I had to—I sang, loud and clear, at the top of my lungs.

  Moments passed, and the familiar foggy haze clouded my view. It wasn’t long after that when I felt someone swimming towards me, their body hitting against the breaking waves. I could hear them splashing, but as usual, I couldn’t see what the person looked like.

  When the person was closer to me and I could feel their body within my reach, I grabbed for them; the song that filled my head turned to a sorrowful one and, although everyone said that we sang the same song, I could feel myself singing a different song from what I was used to as I dragged the person under the water.

  The next thing I knew, I was lying on the beach, and my head was throbbing. I glanced up at the sky and realized that there was a full moon looming above me.

  There was something different about the way I’d lured the person tonight, but I couldn’t figure out what it was. All I knew was that it made me feel sadder than I normally felt after I lured.

  When I got back to Angelica’s house, I heard a lot of commotion going on in the backyard. It confused me because it was really late at night, but nevertheless, I followed the sounds to the backyard.

  Angelica stood over the body that lay limp in front of her. Her eyes were red and puffy; I could tell she had been crying.

  “What’s going on?” I asked as I approached Gabby.

  Gabby’s light blue eyes were filled with worry. “It’s George. He’s dead.”

  Angelica looked up and met my gaze before glancing at all of us. “Which one of you lured him into the pool?”

  Her eyes moved to Scarlett first, studying her face. “It wasn’t me,” Scarlett replied, shaking her head, her coppery auburn hair moving with it.

  Angelica’s silvery eyes flashed over to Jasmine, waiting for her response. “Don’t go blaming me,” Jasmine huffed. “I didn’t do anything like that.”

  “I didn’t do it either,” Gabby squeaked before Angelica could even glance in her direction. I could tell from her shaky voice that she was about to cry any second.

  Angelica’s gaze settled on me. “And you?”

  “I didn’t do it.”

  “But you weren’t here when it happened,” Angelica replied. “Where were you?”

  “How would you know that I wasn’t here?” I asked defensively. I could feel Jasmine, Scarlett, and Gabby all glancing over at me, as though they were surprised by this revelation. I wondered if they thought I could be guilty of killing George (and even if I had, was it really a reason to be angry at me? They should have known better than anyone that it wouldn’t have been my fault).

  “I checked your bedroom. It was empty,” Angelica explained.

  “No, it wasn’t,” I shook my head.

  “Are you trying to say that you were actually in your room when I was looking for you?” Angelica asked me. The doubt in her voice was obvious, and I couldn’t blame her. I wouldn’t have believed me, either.

 
I shook my head. “No, I wasn’t here. I was at the ocean, so obviously, I couldn’t have lured George—but my room shouldn’t have been empty. Jackson spent the night.”

  Angelica started to say something, but I didn’t listen to her. I ran into the house and up the stairs.

  Once I got to my room, I flung the door open, and I found that Jackson’s belongings were still there—but he wasn’t.

  Oh, no, I thought to myself. How could I let something like this happen? How could I have been stupid enough to let him spend the night if I was only going to go to the ocean and lure him there, anyway?

  I sat down on the bed, my hands shaking and my eyes filling up with tears. I hadn’t seen the body of the person I drowned, but it made sense now why luring this person in had felt so much different.

  It was Jackson. I had killed Jackson.

  My cell phone bleeped and I reached for it, wondering who could be texting me so early in the morning. Hey, sorry, I wasn’t feeling good. I went home, but I forgot some of my stuff there. I would have said goodbye, but you weren’t in bed when I woke up. Let’s hang out tomorrow, ok?

  I breathed a sigh of relief when I read Jackson’s text message. It had been a close call—too close of a call. I couldn’t let something like this happen ever again—even if it meant I had to keep Jackson away from me from now on. I couldn’t let him end up dead, or maybe even worse, in the hospital with a coma. Maybe being in love wasn’t for sirens after all.

  “Felly?” Scarlett knocked on my door. “You have to come downstairs. Phorcys is here, and he wants to talk to you.”

  I tucked my cell phone inside my bra (the best place to carry a cell phone when you don’t want to carry a purse or don’t have a pocket) and followed my sister downstairs, nervous to find out what Phorcys had to say.

  When I found the sea god in the dining room, sitting in a chair across from Jasmine, who had a blank expression on her face, I had a feeling that there was some sort of bad news.

  “I was thinking about killing you right now, but I’m willing to make a deal with you,” Phorcys said, flashing a big grin at me. “You can thank Jasmine for coming up with the idea. I think it’s fantastic.” He paused before saying, “I won’t kill you if you can prove to me that you can love someone for one year without luring them.” His loud, bellowing laughter filled the room. “Are you willing to take on the challenge, or would you like to give up right now, since it’s impossible for a siren not to lure the man she loves, anyway?”

  “I’m always up for a challenge. Count me in,” I replied sweetly before turning and walking away, wondering how I had ended up in this mess. I would figure things out later, but right now, I was just glad that I hadn’t lured Jackson . . . yet.

  Captivate (Siren’s Lullaby #2) is now available!

 

 

 


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