LURE

by Stephanie Jenkins

  As Matt and I shuffled through the crowd at the festival, I squinted up at him. He fanned his face, reminding me of the one thing I did not miss about being mortal. Hot weather sucked. He grinned down at me and pushed an unkempt strand of hair from his forehead. Some kid wedged between us, his balloon animal squeaking against our faces.

  “The end of summer makes me sad,” I mused. Summer meant fall and then winter would come. I didn’t have a clue about what would become of me after the winter.

  “Why?” Matt stopped in front of a drink booth and jiggled two fingers at the vendor. He thrust a bottle of water in my direction. I smiled. He didn’t ask questions—he just accepted. I frowned at the injured look on his face when he jerked his hand back to prevent touching my knuckles.

  Maybe he had a germ complex or something. Hell, did sirens have germs?

  I hoped he didn’t notice me staring at the spot he nearly touched. “Back to school,” I lied.

  He opened his water and took a big gulp. “Don’t tell me you’re worried about school, Goose.”

  “Maybe a little, bu—”

  “Are you guys having fun?” Lorelei trilled from behind us. She promised me she would not show her happy-go-lucky face, and I almost groaned aloud. We turned in sync to see her rushing toward us, dragging Cam along with her. Even though his expression was a bit reluctant, he nodded and smiled.

  I didn’t want to be so happy to see them together, but I was. Cam needed her.

  “Waiting to watch the bands play,” I said.

  She grinned at me. “You look great today!” She turned to Matt. “Doesn’t she look incredible?” I glared at her once Cam’s attention caught something else. My clothes—a plaid dress and slouchy suede boots—were spoils from our shopping trip the day before.

  Matt tilted his head to the side, gave her a half-smile, and said, “She looks awesome.”

  Awkward.

  Cam cleared his throat a few times and flushed. “Dude, that’s my sister,” he mumbled.

  A dreamy expression plastered on Lorelei’s flawless face. “Y’all have fun. We’re going to play games.” My brother ushered her away from us, but she looked over her shoulder to wink at us.

  Could she be any more obvious? Matt stared after her, scratching his head. “Is she always like that?”

  I snorted. “That’s tame.”

  He moved closer to me, and the sides of our bodies touched as we pushed through the crowd. “You think it’s serious between her and Cam?”

  “I guess.”

  “He looks happy.”

  “Yeah, he is.” Part of me still hated to admit that aloud because it was like mixing work with family. On the other hand, I also hated seeing the look on her face when she realized each day that she was still immortal. At least the fate of her immortality was not up in the air. Not like mine.

  An elderly couple passing by smiled and probably whispered about ‘young love’. I wish. At this point, I was almost desperate to find love.

  A tingle started at my neck and rippled through my legs. I gently shrugged away from Matt after we stopped to talk to one of his friends. My feet robotically drew me around, and the scent of summery cologne almost knocked me over.

  Wyatt.

  Blue eyes met mine. At first, he seemed surprised to see me. I guess he didn’t understand that Rob occasionally gave me the day off. He dragged his gaze over what I was wearing. Touched his own hair as he contemplated how mine was styled. I wondered if he wanted to lean into me and inhale as he did so many other times.

  I told myself he didn’t.

  His eyes never left my face, but his expression was impossible to decipher. No crooked grin. No frown. Just an odd look I’d never seen. I kept my own face blank, kept my eyes locked with his. The gash above his forehead healed, leaving a puckered scar. He let his hair grow out more, and now, it was almost curly. The blue t-shirt he wore made his eyes seem more vibrant.

  I could be a liar and say I didn’t miss him.

  Still, I lied to the world, and there was no point in being dishonest with myself.

  My revulsion finally set in when his friends bounded beside him. Kyle Sanford was one of them. My shoulders tensed as he leered at me. Wyatt yanked his eyes from mine, glaring darkly at Kyle. Golden Boy’s arm slid around a redheaded girl’s waist, and I almost retched when I recognized her.

  I knew Megan Jernigan both by reputation and from two years of being in the same Spanish class. For a moment, I considered warning him that she was the pass-around girl for the football team.

  “What’s wrong, Goose?” Matt asked, stepping beside me. He peered in the direction my body was turned, growling after he saw Kyle. “That guy is such an asshole.”

  I turned my back to Wyatt’s group and strained a smile. Drowning the steady pound of his heart was a struggle, but somehow, I managed to do it. “Yeah . . . let’s just forget we saw him and have a good time.”

  I would forget seeing Wyatt.

  And I’d deal with Kyle later.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

  By the time the first band—a local cover group—started playing, I was a zombie. The sun dipped behind the clouds, creating a stunning array of colors, but all my thoughts were on my soul. And of course, Wyatt. When Matt asked me if I wanted to dance, I followed him into the swaying mass, feeling disconnected from my body.

  At least the band was incredible. I gripped Matt’s shoulder and placed my cheek on his sleeve. When I caught Wyatt staring, I almost jerked away. He stood to the side of the crowd with Megan babbling by his side. His eyes were glued to me. Even from a distance, I could tell see his clenched teeth.

  Matt’s mouth dropped next to my ear; he whispered about the guitarist being a friend of his, and Golden Boy’s entire body tensed. Blatant disgust slinked across his face. It was so wrong to be watching his reaction, but I could not stop.

  No way is he jealous.

  After all, he told me he did not want to see me anymore. And wasn’t he the tool who ended things because of his daddy?

  If that’s even the truth. He probably just got bored of me.

  I dragged my head to Matt’s chest. We decided not to dance again after the song ended. Instead, we stood listening to the rest of the set—angsty rock that was reminiscent of my screwed up life.

  I put a temporary block on thinking about Golden Boy and the Solstice and concentrated on Kyle. How could anyone miss him? He was obviously drugged up, and I felt bad for Wyatt for being with him. Kyle smirked after hitting on a few girls who passed by. They giggled, leaving me wanting to tell them how stupid they looked and what an evil person he was.

  The last thing I should have done was lie to Matt and say I needed to go to the restroom when I saw Kyle walk toward the parking area. That’s what happened, though. He crouched between his car and another, smoking up, and I considered turning around in hopes that a cop would wander by and arrest him.

  But then, he stumbled to his feet and leered at me through a cloud of smoke. Confronting him seemed like a better solution. “Who are you?” he demanded, squinting. I could see him clearly, despite my rage. He realized who I was and flicked his tongue across his lips. “Want to join me? Makes me go longer; you like that, don’t you?”

  My spine stiffened. I counted. One . . . two . . . three . . . I needed to stay calm. Self-control was a good thing. “You’re disgusting, and I’m getting sick of you.”

  “Good god, Brewer. Do you ever cut the whiny victim act? You’ve only seen me once this summer,” he pointed out, holding up one finger and twirling it as I edged closer. “But, um, I heard you’ve been seeing Anderson. He won’t tell me what he’s done with you, but I can imagine.”

  Self-control was overrated.

  An invisible force beckoned me toward him. I shoved him on the car. “When are you going to tell the truth?” He laughed, a high-pitched giggle influenced by his haze. He isn’t scared of me at all. His vicious smirk made me shudder, and I wanted to hurt him even more.

&nbs
p; “What are you talking about, Brewer?”

  I pushed back from him, thumping his chest hard. His expression changed to a grimace. Not that I actually cared. “You know what I’m talking about.”

  He trailed his fingers up my thigh. My skin crawled. His hand was rough, but I shoved it away. He looked almost surprised that I was able to overpower him. Maybe he thought I would wimp out and let me taunt him, like I did at The Lighthouse. “Your whore mom?” he drawled.

  “You need to tell the truth. That nothing happened.”

  He shrugged. “Why should I?” When I didn’t say anything, he continued, “Besides, she’s dead, remember? If the crazy bitch hadn’t killed herself, she would’ve cleared her own name.”

  My fist slammed into his nose, and blood spurted the front of my dress. It was a shame. I really liked the dress. I stepped back, seething, as Kyle doubled over. He clutched his nose, and a string of expletives burst from his wheezing mouth.

  “You fucking psycho.”

  My lips twitched as he called me a few more names. Being called a bitch was worth watching him whimper in pain after he insulted my mother. “You can’t make me do anything,” he hissed.

  I knelt down and stared him directly in the eye, enraged despite my pleasure at witnessing the syrupy, red liquid ooze past his fingertips. I leaned so close to him that my lips touched his ear. “You’d be surprised what I can make you do, Kyle.”

  Someone called my name, and for good measure, I elbowed him in the face one last time.

  Wyatt stood in front of us, wide-eyed. His face and neck changed colors—first pale then a vibrant burgundy. Why did I miss watching him flush like that? Hell, why did I miss him at all?

  “What are you doing?” he asked.

  I bit my tongue, expecting him to start spazzing. Maybe even threaten me for kicking his BFF’s ass. When he repeated his question, peering down at Kyle, I realized he was not talking to me.

  I stood and nodded at Golden Boy. “How’s it going?” I asked. Kyle’s blood smeared my elbow and shoes, and I couldn’t think of anything better to say.

  His mouth fell open, but Kyle interrupted by gurgling another string of insults. “Stupid bitch,” he yelled, clamping a scarlet stained hand over his mouth and nose.

  “Hey!” Wyatt and I said at the same time. Kyle recoiled. Golden Boy’s eyes were not dancing with amusement as they used to. Now, they were dangerous—violent. He counted under his breath as he watched his friend slink into his car.

  I prayed Kyle’s nose was broken. Like, disfiguringly broke. I didn’t feel an ounce of regret for hoping that.

  “Maybe you and your boyfriend should leave before Sanford calls the cops,” Wyatt suggested, keeping his gaze centered on the pointy toes of my shoes.

  I didn’t see a point in correcting him about Matt. Not like he deserved to know all the details regarding my personal life. I shuffled my feet and prayed the action would annoy him so he would glance up at me. It didn’t, and I felt stupid for getting my hopes up. “He’s high, so I seriously doubt he’ll call anyone.” Still, I didn’t want to return to the festival—Kyle ruined it for me. “You should pick better friends,” I said, tossing one last disdainful glare over my shoulder at Kyle. He sat in the front seat of his car with a wad of napkins crushed to his swollen face.

  Wyatt crossed his arms over his chest, and as I walked slowly past him, I heard the sharp intake of air. I bit my lip hard. The heat from his blue eyes scorched my back as I walked away.

  ***

  Matt did not question me about the drying blood on my dress and skin as he drove me home. Cam and Lorelei were still out, thankfully, but Dad’s truck was in the driveway. Matt parked his Camaro on the curb then turned toward me, grinning. “Can’t you ever stay out of trouble, Goose?”

  “It follows me around.” Despite my playful tone, there was an air of seriousness floating through the tiny car.

  He nodded, rapping his fingers against one of the cup holders. His forehead scrunched as if he was thinking about what to say next. Then, without warning, he leaned over and touched his lips to mine. The kiss was so fast I barely knew what was happening.

  “I had a good time with you tonight,” he whispered once he pulled back.

  My eyes flitted down to his fingers; they were white-knuckled and gripping the worn center console. It struck me that he did not touch me.

  Not like Wyatt.

  Never like Wyatt.

  I smiled, bittersweet, and reached for the door handle. “I had fun, too.”

  “Beating someone up or with me?” he teased.

  “Both.”

  He leaned forward, kissing me one last time. His hands never left the console. Matt’s deep inhale definitely reminded me of Golden Boy. “I’ll see you around, Goose.”

  I watched the old car speed off, feeling like the biggest tease ever for letting him kiss me while I thought of someone else.

  CHAPTER THIRTY

  Something, not a soul, begged me to go to the sea.

  At first, I tried to avoid the sensation. It was different and sinister, and I worried that Demeter and the hunter set up a trap for me. Nevertheless, the numb weight on my chest told me I needed to go to the ocean.

  I found myself at Palmetto Dunes, crouched behind the rocks by Wyatt’s house like a total creeper. He and his new friends were partying, and I was surprised that one of the stuffy neighbors had not called the cops yet. Most of their group hung around the patio, but Kyle managed to coax a girl with slouched shoulders and mousy brown hair to the edge of the sand.

  I felt like a dirty Peeping Tom watching them from the rocks.

  They were both messed-up, but I shivered when the girl slumped over onto the ground. Kyle grabbed at her tube top, and I wanted to scream for her to get up—or yell for Wyatt to come see what a classy guy his friend was. Instead, I slid beneath the waves and let the music pour from my throat.

  Kyle was the reason for me being here.

  I didn’t want to hurt anyone but him, so I willed myself to focus. My hands floated above my head and the sea dragged me under as I continued to sing.

  Death and chaos wait beneath the waves. The flow of the water guided me, carried me, to where it knew I needed to go. My voice echoed through the depths. It doesn’t hurt at all, Kyle.

  When I emerged, Wyatt’s house was nowhere in sight. In fact, none of the McMansions were. Kyle stood waist deep in front of me with a blank look etched across his face.

  Once the music stopped, comprehension crept across his features.

  “What the hell are you doing here?” he demanded, looking around and clutching his bruised nose. I had no plans to hit him again. My new strategy was a better solution to my problem. He took a step backward, forgetting we were in water. I smirked as he went under and snorted when he came up a moment later, sputtering.

  “What are you doing?” His voice trembled as I waded closer.

  “You said I couldn’t make you do anything.”

  He stumbled, flailing and splashing. “No wonder Anderson doesn’t want you . . . you’re crazy.”

  His words burned a little.

  Okay, a lot . . .

  “Hmm, maybe you’re right,” I said. Music took over me again, and the mystified look consumed his hazel eyes. I beckoned him towards me until the waves crashed under his chin. He choked on the salt. “Coming clean would have been easier,” I whispered.

  I stopped the siren song once he was fully submerged because I wanted to see the fear in his eyes. I needed to see his flesh change color. He thrashed against me, struggling to return to the surface.

  His soul was strong, and it screamed at me. “What are you doing?”

  “I’m crazy, remember?”

  I saw myself in his eyes, gleaming like gold beneath the sea as the color drained from his skin. My lips curled upward at the sight of his face withering. He trembled beneath my grasp.

  His body began to slacken. “What are you?”

  I started to answer him, b
ut someone shook my shoulders hard, and I was positive the hunter found me. Then, a transparent body swam behind Kyle. It was Mom. Her face was an angry mask of clarity.

  “Stop it,” she said.

  “Why?” I challenged.

  “Killing him doesn’t right a wrong.” She broke into a million tiny jets. Tonight, she would not return.

  Kyle no longer moved. I wanted to be disobedient and ignore my mother’s warning. Then Lorelei’s melodic voice intermingled with Mom’s in my mind, telling me how much I would regret killing Kyle out of rage.

  Reviving him made me sick to my stomach. Nevertheless, the fact that I tried to get rid of him in the first place was worse. Much worse. As I pressed my mouth to his, breathing life into his still body, I despised what I was. I was so messed up and sadistic that my instincts led me right to him.

  He vomited in the sand once he came to, and I stood over him, watching. He gasped and wheezed and stared up at me with new eyes. Frightened eyes. “What are you?” It was the same question his soul asked as his body faded.

  I shook my head and ran a shaky hand through my soaked hair.

  “Tomorrow you will go to whatever authorities you went to when you lied about my mom and tell the truth. I can find you, and I can take you right back under. I’m serious.”

  Spinning around, I prepared to leave him. He could figure out how to find his way home.

  “This is a dream,” he muttered.

  I stiffened, shook my head, and said, “If you think it is, I’d be more than happy to take you back in.” I walked away, counting my heartbeat. That familiar sound was the only thing keeping me sane.

  ***

  Dad summoned me from my bedroom at 10:29 in the morning. “We need you to come in here for a moment, Kiddo,” he murmured softly, tapping on my door.

  It was funny, I could not remember dressing in my pajamas, but I was fully clothed as I padded to the door. His face was grim. He struggled to speak, and his hands and voice quivered.