LURE

by Stephanie Jenkins

  He didn’t need to torture himself with unanswerable questions.

  Reluctantly, I dragged my gaze away from Cam and fiddled with the corner of the fleece blanket. “Andy come by lately?”

  Sighing, Sophie played with the tab of the contraband soda I brought her, and shrugged. “He was here last night.” Andy freaked over what happened. Worse than her parents, in fact. He couldn’t comprehend how Sophie had no memory of the drink she supposedly picked up. Or coming to work that night.

  “I’ll talk to him again,” I promised. She hugged me, her smile vibrant and alive, and the scent of the generic, sulfur shampoo the hospital doled out drifted up from her hair.

  A nurse brought her breakfast. Judging by the way she whined at the sight of runny eggs and undercooked sausage, she was more than ready to go home. I took a swig from my bottle of salty water and decided that even if I were mortal, I preferered it over hospital food. “Can’t your dad negotiate a steak for me?” she asked.

  “I’m telling you, vegan is the way to go.”

  She pointed at my water, snorting. “Because you’re always eating healthy vegetables, huh?”

  Sometimes, I hated how perceptive she was.

  Cam was watching basketball on ESPN when Lorelei stopped by. He did not look frustrated as she pranced into the room, just uncertain, as if he needed to figure out whether he overreacted before and what he could say to fix his stupidity. She smiled. He turned scarlet.

  And I kind of wanted to puke.

  Sophie mumbled something about Lorelei’s shoes—strappy sandals that looked more like bondage than high fashion. Lorelei plunked a sparkly gift bag on Sophie’s lap. “Charlotte mentioned you love bright stuff.”

  Personally, I thought the lime green t-shirt was fugly, but Sophie’s elation stopped me from telling her that. She spoke the name of a brand I never heard of and beamed at Lorelei. “This is so awesome!”

  God, I think she reads my mind. I never told her anything about Sophie’s fashion mishaps.

  Lorelei turned to Cam, and her expression was wretched, sappy. “I should probably go. It was good seeing you.” She placed a hand on Sophie’s shoulder and smiled at her. “I’m so glad you’re okay.” Wrinkling my forehead, I watched her walk—slower than usual with her shoulders drooping—from the room.

  Cam stared after her with a look that was equally as lame, if that was possible. I sighed. Their relationship was such an enormous paradox, it made my ears buzz. “You should probably go talk to her. Because, you know, stubborn people suck.” His eyes widened, but maybe my words made sense. He practically pounced from the room.

  Gag.

  “Did you see the way they looked at each other?” Sophie squealed.

  “Yeah, I’m still debating if I should puke in the sink or on the floor.”

  I tipped across the room, squished my face against the window, and stared out into the field behind the hospital. Another brutal, late summer storm was preparing to shroud the town in darkness, and although I was nowhere near the sea, I heard a soul calling for me.

  Sophie cleared her throat. Her eyes were somber when I turned around. “I don’t know what happened to me, Char. One second, I’m writing on my time sheet and the next . . .”

  She looked lost. Guilt then anger sneaked through my body because it wasn’t fair. Why did Demeter use her to get back at me? The worst part was I couldn’t tell her the truth. I had to lie to my best friend about why she was in the hospital. Stupid siren rules. “But you’re okay now,” I said. “And sometimes, that’s what matters.”

  Running her fingers through her blonde hair, she shook her head. “That’s just it. I’m not okay. That’s never happened to me, and I think it was something else.” She took a deep breath then added, “Like something you’re not telling me.”

  I faked a smile. “I think you’re tired.”

  “You can tell me anything,” she lisped. When I didn’t answer, her bottom lip quivered. “But I have a feeling this is important. Something that maybe I’m better off not asking.”

  “Your intuition usually rocks.”

  She blinked a few times then held Lorelei’s gift in front of her face and swooned over it. The shirt was just as hideous as it was a couple minutes before. “I can’t wait to go home on Friday.”

  Sophie was so trusting, so quick to take my word, that she frightened me.

  ***

  Cam wanted me to go home alone.

  Lorelei sidled by his side as we walked to the hospital parking lot, chattering about her out-of-town relative. She kept emphasizing that her relative was staying at her cottage. I figured they thought I was too stupid to realize she was suggesting they go somewhere else.

  Foul.

  He tossed me the keys to my Jeep and draped his arm around her bare shoulder. Looking at me sideways, he said, “Lori will bring me home later.”

  “Whatever, dude. At least I get my car back.”

  The way their hands touched as she stretched out her palm to give him her keys was vomit-worthy. Today, I was glad I wasn’t mortal, just because I didn’t want to yack all over the pavement. “See you whenever. Don’t forget about your new job,” I muttered, sliding into my car. Still, I was ecstatic to see him smiling again.

  He tapped on the window, and I rolled it down. “Drive slow, little sister. Dad’ll have a heart attack if you have another accident.”

  On my way to the sea, rain splattered against the cracked windshield, so I listened to Cam’s advice and drove five miles under the limit. My life was so chaotic the past few days that I never took the opportunity to think about my brief conversation with Wyatt’s mother.

  Why didn’t she know about my alleged threat to their cookie-cutter family? I wanted to ask him. I wanted to look into his eyes and force him to tell me why he pushed me to the point of letting my guard down, just to disappoint me. But mostly—and I wouldn’t admit it to anyone else because it made me a lame wimp—I wanted to see him again. Was it pathetic that I looked forward to going with Matt to the music festival just because I thought it would take my mind off of Golden Boy?

  Yes.

  Because I spent my entire high school career loathing girls who played that game with boys.

  I parked at The Lighthouse, and by the time I reached the shore, the rain pelted my face. Seven souls found me fast once I sank beneath the thrashing waves. One of them huddled away from the rest of the group, and when I tried to talk to him, I realized it was someone I knew.

  Donnie Shaw was my eighth grade science lab partner. We always disliked each other, and unfortunately, he was a bigger jerk in liquid soul form.

  “Do I have to do this?” he whined, wrenching away from my grasp.

  My mother was in Purgatory, and I was stuck guiding an ungrateful idiot. “I’d be happy to make you wait until the weekend.”

  As he shook his see-through head, he scowled. It was the same condescending look he gave me the few times our grade sucked or when I misplaced our classwork.

  “That won’t be necessary, Brewer.” He lifted his head high and paid close attention to the radiant path in front of us. “I knew there was a reason why you got a C in science.”

  Was he joking? My ex lab partner was dead and bringing up my grade in a class we took together over three years ago. Fail. “Besides the fact that I hate science,” I mumbled.

  He grunted but didn’t say another word.

  “How'd you die?” I asked, attempting to make his last semi-normal moment a pleasant one. In spite of everything, he was a good soul even if he lacked social skills and house training.

  “Fishing. What else would it be?”

  I could have told him about the soul whose wife shot him in the stomach or the one who drowned because of a heart attack, but I rolled my eyes. If I were a spiteful siren—like Francesca—I would have accidentally led him to the shadowy whirlpool for the naughty souls.

  We hovered above the flashing lights. I swept my arm out in front of me. “Welcome to eternity
, Donnie. I’m pretty sure your essays on protozoa are now totally worthless.” My jab at science must have pissed him off. He didn’t even mumble a thanks as the vortex dragged him in.

  I swam away, calling out for Mom, but she didn’t answer, and I felt like I needed to let her know how close I was to saving her. Maybe she didn’t want to see me. She was probably sick of hearing the same promise every time I guided someone else.

  My mind was a jumbled mess, making it harder for me to detect if Demeter’s pawn lurked nearby. One second I was sure I heard his heartbeat and the next, the ocean was calm and silent. Frantic, I swam to the surface. I emerged from the sea to find Francesca standing on the beach, soaked from head to toe from the downpour. The tide threatened to touch her feet, and she took a jittery step back.

  What is her deal?

  Her manicured fingers drummed over her heart. “Doesn’t this scare you?” she asked, swiping her other hand across her slick face. She kept skittish, fearful eyes glued to the Atlantic.

  I glanced down at the soggy sand clumping at my feet and exhaled. “Yes.”

  She continued to touch her heart, peering out at the miles of crashing waves. “This one is different—I don’t think he has a soul.”

  So he was underwater with me. “How do you know that?”

  “I’ve been listening to souls for longer than I care to remember. He has a heartbeat, and it’s distinct. But he doesn’t have a soul. There’s never been one like that. It makes me wonder what Demeter gave him in return.” She turned to me again, bitter laughter shaking her body like a puppet. “Oh, what a Solstice this will be.”

  “What the hell is that?”

  “The gods and demigods meet on the Summer and Winter Solstice.” She pursed her lips, as if she expected me to know what she was talking about. I didn’t. I lifted my shoulders, and suddenly, her eyes widened. She shook her head to each side. I couldn’t decide if she looked more amused or shocked. “Ag’s told you about that, right?”

  What would a gathering among the immortals have to do with me? Other than the impromptu meeting with Zeus, weren’t the gods off limits to us? “No, she hasn’t. What about it?”

  She clucked her tongue. “She made you, she can tell you. Though, I can’t wait to see her explain this.”

  “You’re not making any sen—”

  “Ask Aglaope about the Solstice,” she repeated, her voice raising an octave. The ice returned to her glare.

  Maniacal Francesca was disturbing, even more than when she was intentionally malicious. Still, I made a mental note to ask Lorelei about the Solstice. I decided not to pressure Francesca on the subject anymore. She looked pissed off, and I was scared that annoying her would cause her to stop telling me about the hunter. “Can’t you kill him? The hunter, I mean. Aren’t you stronger?”

  “If I could kill him, I would have. Besides, she can always find a new one.” She spun around and stalked in the direction of Lorelei’s cottage. I followed her. “There are so many rules, but she finds ways around them. Like with your friend. And if you break a rule, you’re fucked.”

  Lorelei explained Demeter’s ability to weasel around the rules after I asked her about Sophie. Demeter didn’t physically hurt her, so it wasn’t a against the epic immortal rule book, just a slap on the wrist.

  “Is this the first time Demeter's done this?” I breathed, catching up to Francesca.

  She flinched but continued walking. “My last husband poisoned himself seventy years ago. It was my fault because I broke one of the coveted rules—infuriated her. She started taking over people around him. He swore he heard voices. Saw things.” We reached the cottage. She turned the front door knob, her hand trembling and back rigid. “I’ll make my decision about your mom before I leave. In the meantime, you should probably talk to Ag about the Solstice.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

  Lorelei talked me into going shopping on Thursday. As freaked out as I was about our senior and junior siren bonding experience, I exploited her love affair with yellow clothing as a chance to grill her about Francesca’s husband. Feeling sorry for Maninizer was more messed up than guiding random souls or chugging salt water.

  The bubbly sales girl wouldn’t go away, so Lorelei’s answer was broken and drawn out.

  “Well, she’s not lying,” she said once I started clearing my throat. She gave me one of those don’t-get-impatient-with-me looks that reminded me of Mom. I was starting to get used to it, so the expression didn’t catch me off guard. “Don’t you remember me telling you her life has been difficult?”

  Yes. However, I was incensed that day, the same I flipped out over my mom’s fate. Maybe if Lorelei mentioned why Francesca refused to guide the souls in limbo, I would not have said so many bad things about her.

  Only a few because she was still a witch.

  “Don’t you think it would be, I don’t know, easier to tell me important stuff before I have to find out on my own?”

  A group of Summer Boys sauntered by, gawking at Lorelei, and she granted them a docile nod. I groaned and cast them a rotten glare. Bending over a pair of pricey suede boots, she admonished me for being rude then sang one of her proverbs about life and silver platters.

  Too bad her sage advice never applied to being a siren.

  “Um, Lorelei, before I forget, what’s the Solstice?”

  Her head snapped up from the shoe. She squinted at me. “What do you know about that?”

  “Not much. Just that the gods meet up. If it’s anything like Club Olympian, I bet it sucks.”

  She edged closer, darting her eyes around as if she was afraid someone might hear. “But who told you about it?” I flinched. For once, Lorelei sounded exactly like Francesca.

  “Your psycho sister.”

  Snorting, she shook her head and squeezed the bridge of her nose. “I can’t believe her. She is such a piec—”

  Fear gnawed at me. “Okay, you’re scaring me. What is it?”

  “We—we can’t talk about it here. Later,” she promised.

  Later was never good. Her elusiveness only intensified my apprehension. I just knew I would discover more creepy immortal facts once she divulged what was so special about the Solstice. Things always worked that way with Lorelei.

  When she dropped me off at home, she dumped the bags of clothes in the empty “Man Room.” She seemed pleased with herself when I thanked her, a Cheshire cat grin tugging at the corners of her mouth, but she forgot I existed and turned into a pile of incoherent giggles once Cam made his presence known. He headed out the room and motioned for her to follow.

  I cleared my throat loudly. “Hey, I thought we were going to talk about that party.”

  He stopped, glanced over his shoulder, and lifted his eyebrows. “What party?”

  “Charlotte’s boyfriend,” she said, pushing him out the garage. She closed the door behind him and waited until after the sound of footsteps and grumbling became distant to speak. “You have to understand that I didn’t want to put so much pressure on you, Char.”

  I threw myself onto the couch and released a frustrated growl. “Too much pressure to do what? Can you please just tell me what’s so important about the Solstice?”

  She paced around, refusing to make eye contact with me. Before I was worried, but now, indisputable terror crashed into my chest. It inched past my shoulders and furled around my neck, choking me. I counted my heartbeat while I waited for her to respond. “Your soul is going to be sold,” she whispered.

  A month ago, I would have choked from laughter. Now I could not. Somehow, it fit my chaotic, scary life. I continued to stare at her blankly.

  “The gods have an auction twice a year for all the souls they’ve collected through various means. Yours will be sold during the Winter Solstice. In December.” She stood over me now, her hands shaking. “I’m so sorry, Char. I really thought you’d be mortal quickly, that—”

  “But we don’t have souls anyway so it shouldn’t matter, right?” I asked hoarsely. S
he opened her mouth to say something then bit her tongue. “Right?”

  “It does matter. When we lose our souls . . . Hermes keeps it until the auction. The god who wins it has control over you. Of course you can’t be killed, but you are like a puppet. It’s terrifying.”

  If it was so terrifying, why was I just now finding out about the Solstice? She’d warned me, though, in her own, vague way. “But you and Francesca aren’t being controlled. You’re never forced to do anything against your will.”

  She smoothed my hair down and grimaced. I already knew that our situations were utterly different, even before she spoke. “Hades bought our souls long ago. He won’t use it for bad. It’s yours I worry about. Demeter is angry with me, with Thel. That makes you a target. Who knows what her plans are.”

  The thought of Demeter bidding on my soul and becoming my very own immortal puppet master made me numb. I knew the terror and anxiousness would return soon, but at that moment, I felt nothing. Standing, I shook my head slowly. “Then I guess I need to get my soul back, huh?” I grabbed the bags of clothes and struggled to smile—forced myself to walk as I tried to process what she told me. “Cam’s probably waiting for you.”

  I left her standing there and exiled myself to my room to deal with my discovery and the renewed desperation to regain my mortality.

  ***

  My new problem haunted me, and concentrating on anything besides the auction for my soul was difficult. Sophie left the hospital Friday afternoon, and I felt like a piece-of-crap when I told Matt I would still go to the music festival with him. My best friend showed no sign of disappointment after I told her about my plans. In fact, she was excited about alone time with Andy. I figured they just wanted to make out. Because, I guess they had not become sick of sucking each other’s faces while she was in the hospital.

  For some reason, I didn’t feel the need to call them out on it. My perspective on relationships changed dramatically since I met Lorelei. The new sentimental sappiness still freaked me out a little.