The Siren's Heart

by Helen Scott

  “No.” Her voice came from just the other side of the door. “No, no, no! Go away.”

  Dem leaned and whispered, his lips brushing the sensitive skin of her ear. “Let me do the talking.”

  She nodded. Clearly, her method had backfired. It wasn’t that she liked taking a back seat, but he knew more about this world, anyway, so it made sense.

  “I saw your hand.” His voice was carefully neutral.

  Aster shot him a questioning glance.

  “We need your help because your daughter has recently developed similar markings.”

  Her hand went to her eye, fingers almost unconsciously tracing the black spider-web lines. When they had first appeared, she couldn’t identify them by touch, but now she could sense them, like the skin containing the markings was slightly cooler than the rest. She had thought the marks on Chloe’s hand were just her veins showing through her pale skin, but if she had similar marks, then she might be able to explain where they came from.

  The door cracked open again. The moment felt suspended in time, both parties waiting for the other to break the silence.

  “Show me,” Chloe said.

  Aster pulled the hair away from her lifeless eye, revealing the dark markings and discoloration to the woman she had yet to be able to see clearly.

  “I suppose you’d better come in, then,” she said, opening the door and stepping to the side.

  Dem walked through first with the blanket, and Aster followed, still clutching her arms around herself. She usually wasn’t so apprehensive, but what if Chloe rejected her, refused to help her? Everything could go horribly wrong and she could be abandoned once again without answers to the myriad of questions that now swam in her brain.

  Her eyes took a moment to adjust to the dim light as Chloe closed the door behind them. Eventually she could make out some details. The first thing she noticed were the bursts of color all around, either in vases or pillows. Even the rug was a bright pattern. She tried to move forward, but Dem stood just in front of her, blocking her view of the woman she was so desperate to see. It wasn’t every day she found out she had a birth mother and got to meet her.

  “Come and sit. I will get some drinks.”

  “No ambrosia or nectar, please. Our bodies can’t handle it.” His voice was low and polite as they moved forward to sit at the small wooden table just below a window.

  Now that she was inside, Aster could see why so many buildings had a domed roof. It made them feel so much bigger. Though the space was small, she didn’t feel cramped. She looked around a little more. There was a loom in the corner of the room, sitting next to a window with the most intricate pattern being created on it. Outside the window, the backyard was a riot of color with a massive variety of flowers popping up everywhere she looked.

  As she sat, Chloe brought over some water in a carafe with matching glasses, all of which was made out of an exquisite patterned blue glass. Her spider-webbed hand trembled as she poured the water, betraying the nervousness Aster was sure they were both feeling. Slowly, she allowed herself to look up.

  Dressed in a soft gray V-neck sweater and jeans, the goddess was not what she expected. Her hair was still a golden blonde, sparkling in the light as the waves, so similar to Aster’s own hair, danced as she moved. She had darker eyes and thin, delicate eyebrows. The only thing Aster could really see of herself in this woman’s face was her petite rounded nose and the plump lips, complete with a perfect Cupid’s bow.

  “So Phobetor has decided to torment you?” Chloe asked, glancing at Aster before her eyes darted away once more.

  Dem made a noise in his throat, but she had no idea what it meant. Deciding to ignore it, she responded, “I have no idea, to be honest. I didn’t even know I was adopted until today.”

  The last comment brought her birth mother’s head around once more. This time, she made full eye contact, and Aster could tell that their eyes were similar in color. “If you have this blanket, then you must be the baby I left with Juventas.”

  “She goes by Julie now, but yeah, apparently.”

  Chloe finally sat down next to Aster, clutching her hands. “You have to know that I didn’t want to give you up.”

  Looking at her now as the light from the window bathed her skin, Aster could see the spider-web markings extended far past her hands. They covered most of her visible body, getting darker over her chest, especially over her heart. Looking at her mother’s face again, she could see the faint lines and the silver in her hair. She was aging, something a goddess wouldn’t do.

  The words suddenly came tumbling out of her mouth. “Can I ask what happened? What caused the marks on your body? Who’s my father? Did you love him?” She took a breath and snapped her mouth shut in shock. “I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to blurt it all out like that.”

  Chloe laughed. “It’s okay. You have a lot of questions, as do I, but now is not the time for all of them.” Rubbing the bridge of her nose, she sighed, suddenly seeming older. “I fell in love with your father, and he with me. We didn’t think our parents would object. After all, it’s not like we hold any power in the pantheon. Lycus’ father didn’t outwardly have a problem with us, but soon the marks started appearing. I tried to hide them from Lycus, but he found out anyway and was furious that I had tried to keep it from him. Neither of us knew what could be causing them.

  “When my nightmares began feeling so real that they scared both of us, Lycus confronted his father. Phobetor wasn’t shy about admitting that he was sending me nightmares. He wanted Lycus to follow in his own nightmare-inducing footsteps, so he issued an ultimatum. Either he gave me up or I would receive nightmares for the rest of my life. For a while, he chose me, wanting to stay true to our relationship, but the dreams and nightmares just got worse, so eventually he went to his father and begged him to stop. The marks were already permanent by that point, though.” Her voice broke as emotions overwhelmed her.

  She couldn’t imagine what her mother must have been through. The nightmares and visions she was getting were bad enough, and they had only happened a couple times. If Chloe had them every night, then she must have been on the verge of going crazy.

  After a couple deep breaths, her mother continued. “Lycus became his father’s tool, even a weapon sometimes. We didn’t talk again. It was too painful for both of us. So by the time I realized I was pregnant, I figured it was best to just keep it to myself. I’m sorry.” She looked at Aster with guilt blazing in her eyes. “I never meant to keep you from him. I was just trying to do what was best. Besides, whatever Phobetor was doing to me made me begin to age. When I noticed it, I was still pregnant with you. I knew I couldn’t keep you. The marks alone were keeping me away from others, and to add aging to that? A goddess isn’t supposed to age, even one who is as minor as I am. I had my own nightmares, then, ones where I kept you and you watched me deteriorate. I couldn’t put you through that, so after you were born, I reached out to Juventas.”

  Aster’s head was reeling with information. She hadn’t expected Chloe to open up like that, to share so much of her private life with someone who was basically a stranger. “I’m so sorry you went through all that.”

  “It is nothing for you to worry about. The aging seems to have slowed even further, or possibly stopped, but the marks make me keep to myself. Gods and goddesses are kind of known for being vain. They don’t want to catch whatever marked me, so I stay out of their way and they stay out of mine.” She shrugged.

  “May I ask about the blanket, my lady? What or who do the symbols stand for?” Dem asked, offering her the blanket. Dem’s voice was so deep and gravelly compared to Chloe’s that it startled Aster, as did the tone. He almost sounded like a student addressing a teacher, as though Chloe could solve all their problems. Aster wished that were true.

  “Oh, of course. The blanket. I made it while I was pregnant. Each symbol is one of your grandparents. I wanted you to know where you came from even if I couldn’t bring myself to tell you who I was. L
et’s see. This is Hermes and Carmenta on this side—they are my parents—and the other is Phobetor and Mneme, Lycus’ parents.”

  “What are the actual symbols?” Aster asked, pointing to the symbols for her father’s parents.

  “This is the gate of horn for Phobetor, and the elephant is for Mneme since she’s the muse of memory.”

  “What’s the gate of horn?” Aster asked, fingering the embroidery on the blanket.

  “That’s what the gods of dreams and nightmares travel through if your dreams are going to come true. Some called them visions, and some called them prophecy. Either way, it’s all the same. I thought it was better to have that than the gate of ivory on there. I didn’t want to introduce lies to you right off the bat, but then I also expected that you would know you were adopted from the beginning. Nothing in life ever goes to plan, does it?” She laughed at the thought, but it was a dry bark of a laugh that spoke more of pain and regret than actual humor.

  “So is there any way to halt the progression of Aster’s marks? Or the nightmares?”

  “Not to my knowledge, unless you can persuade Phobetor himself to do so. Obviously that didn’t work so well for me, but you’re not dating anyone related to him. Wait, you’re not, are you?” Her brows pinched together in worry.

  “She’s not,” Dem said, speaking for her, not that he had any idea what she’d been up to.

  Now was not the time nor place to pick a fight with him, though, even though she wanted to put him in his place. Aster took a sip of her water, and immediately a screaming pain took over in her head. She felt the glass slip from her hand, heard it shatter, but couldn’t see anything as her vision clouded over.

  Chapter 11

  Aster’s head felt like it had just gone over a waterfall. It was a different sensation than any other vision she’d ever had. She watched the scenes in front of her play back, passing her by at increasing speed. She saw Dem and Chloe moving in reverse, and then it was just Chloe, the movements going by faster and faster until everything was just a blur.

  The room spun and wasn’t the room she had been in anymore. The bright colors, the flowers, the loom, all of it was gone. The room she was in was full of dark luxurious colors. Everything was sumptuously decorated with ruby reds, sapphire blues, emerald greens, and golds. A man was asleep on the large low bed in the corner. A thick head of dark hair was all she could see. The room tilted, and suddenly she was closer. She could see Chloe on the bed as well, her blonde waves brighter than they had been when Aster met her. The other woman ran her fingers through the dark silky strands of what Aster was assuming was Lycus’ hair.

  “Wake up, sleepy head.” Her voice was soft with a sorrowful note at the end.

  “I’m awake,” a groggy Lycus murmured.

  “You’ve got to get back before your dad knows you’re gone.” Her hand caressed his face and the dark stubble shadowing his jawline as she nudged him.

  “I’ll just stay with you. We’ll find a way to deal with the nightmares.” He reached an arm out and wrapped it around Chloe’s waist, pulling her close enough that he buried his nose in her hair.

  “Please, Ly, don’t make me be the bad guy. The dreams are bad enough as it is. I can’t take being the one to end this, to force you to leave.” Her voice hitched at the end.

  He pulled back slightly. Blazingly blue eyes opened and locked onto Chloe’s face. “I don’t want that, either, but I also don’t want to leave you. I love you, more than anything, more than I ever thought I could care for another being.”

  “And I love you, but you know that your father will only make things worse for us, more painful.” She leaned away from her lover, and Aster could see the center of the dark webbing on her chest as she began to rub it absentmindedly. It looked painful, the black lines tinged with a red outline, not like her own. At least, not yet.

  “Maybe we can still see each other occasionally,” he said, the heartbreak evident in his voice.

  “Maybe,” Chloe responded, but Aster could tell that she was just saying it to soothe him.

  They were both lying on their backs, tears flowing from their eyes, almost mirror images of one another. Man and woman. Dark and light. The only thing that was consistent was the raw pain that radiated off both of them.

  “If it would be easier, I could take your memories.” The words were quiet, but it was like a bomb went off.

  “How dare you! The memories of us are all I will have. I’m not about to give that up.” Chloe’s voice was filled with a quiet fury.

  “The offer still stands if it ever becomes too much.”

  He sat up, dark hair flopping forward, hiding his bright blue eyes as he wiped the tears away. Aster closed her eyes as he went to stand. Even though she hadn’t met him, she still didn’t want to see her biological father naked.

  “Ly, I—” Chloe’s voice crumbled under the strength of her emotion. The silent tears were now full-fledged sobs.

  Aster opened her eyes to find a dressed Lycus cradling her against his chest as they cried together.

  “Curse. Him,” she managed to get out between sobs.

  The scene was heart-wrenching to watch. So much pain and heartache for nothing. Anger burned deep inside her at what her parents had gone through. Aster wanted to comfort both of them, but mainly she wanted to hunt down Phobetor and kick his nightmare-giving ass. What right did he have to break them apart like that?

  On that thought, the world swirled again and she was back in the present with Dem and Chloe. The angle was wrong, though. As she began to push herself up, Dem’s voice cut in.

  “Take it easy.”

  She ignored him being overprotective and pushed up into a sitting position. Looking at Chloe, she said, “I saw you and Lycus talking. I’ve never experienced anything like that. Have you ever asked Phobetor to remove the marks?”

  Chloe shook her head, wrapping her arms around herself protectively. “The nightmares he gave me were torment enough to steer clear of him.”

  “We should get you home, get Hal to take a look to see if anything has changed with this last episode.”

  “Dem, I’ve only just met Chloe, and I feel fine. I don’t think we need to jump to the worst possible conclusion right off the bat.”

  “He’s right. The marks are insidious. I ignored them for too long, and now, well, I can’t walk around freely, let alone sleep for more than a few hours at a time. His possessive, vengeful nature made this permanent. It’s why I couldn’t keep you. I couldn’t trap you in this house, tie you to me without your consent for your entire life.”

  “Have you tried talking to Lycus?” Aster asked, unwilling to back down. There had to be a solution. She wasn’t willing to let this woman, who happened to be her birth mother, live like this when she so clearly longed for more.

  “I can’t talk to him. It’s not fair to either of us. We both became too attached, too tied to one another, so when we were forced apart, the wound was deep and permanent. To talk to him would be stabbing myself in the heart.” Chloe’s hand came up as she unconsciously rubbed the darkest spot over her heart.

  “Why don’t you let him take your memories, then? If it’s so painful, why not try?”

  “Because as painful as it would be to talk to him, the idea of him ripping the memories of us out of my head is even more so. I wouldn’t know why I felt like half of myself was missing, or why I had these marks all over my body. Nothing is ever as simple as we want it to be. I’m just glad that you and I have had the opportunity to meet. I always hoped you would grow up to be the best of us, and from what I can tell, you did. You certainly have your father’s fire.”

  “Sorry, I just want to help.”

  “I know, but you can help me by helping yourself. Go and let this Hal person look at you, make sure you are healthy, and then seek an audience with Phobetor. Show him that you are uninterested in anything that he considers his, and maybe he will help you.”

  “You just couldn’t let me enjoy spending time wi
th my mother, could you?” she snapped at Dem when they appeared in his living room. If he hadn’t brought up getting her checked out, then they could have stayed and talked with Chloe more.

  “Hal needs to look at you.” His voice was razor sharp.

  “I’m not a fragile doll! I don’t break that easily. If I did, I already would have. This”—she gestured angrily to her marked eye—“is a walk in the park compared to everything with the Order of Talos.”

  “That doesn’t mean it warrants ignoring it, or were you not listening to what Chloe said?” The question was a whip against the anger that was drowning her brain as she stormed away from him.

  Everything was wrong. It had been for a long time. The last time she remembered feeling somewhat normal was the night she first danced with Dem. Once he came into her life, everything went to hell. She spun on her heel, the rage that she usually felt around Leonard boiling in her blood.

  “You! Everything went wrong after you! I was working a steady job with an understanding boss, and then you came along and everything blew up.” By the time she finished the sentence, she was jabbing her finger in his chest. Part of her brain told her to back off, but the other part wanted to push him further, make him see her once and for all.

  His gigantic hands came up and wrapped around each wrist, preventing her from lashing out physically any further, unless she resorted to kicks.

  “It is not my fault. What happened to you is inexcusable, but if you thought I actually had anything to do with it, then you wouldn’t be here right now, would you?”

  “You treat me like a kid, like a toy. I was fun to play with when I was new and shiny, but now I’m just boring and annoying.” Venom dripped from her words. She hadn’t truly realized how upset she was with him until everything started pouring out of her. The dam had burst, and there was no stopping it now. “I wouldn’t even care if it didn’t seem like you thought I was tainted somehow, like being taken by the Order made me unfit for you. I’m still me. They couldn’t break me, but you don’t see that, do you?”