I grabbed the broom, though it would do nothing to help the disaster. “A prank,” I said, straining a smile. “They’ve been doing it since my mom died.” The truth was the practical jokes lasted just a couple months and didn’t go any further than ignorant calls. Luckily, he did not know that. “You should probably leave. I’ll clean this up.”
He pulled the broom from my hands. “You’re shaking. I don’t give a shit what you say; there’s no way I’m leaving you alone tonight.”
***
The uncomfortable burn over my heart shook me awake, and my eyes pulled apart to Wyatt touching my chest. My room was dark. I stretched out on the mattress, trying to remember falling asleep. He helped me clean the kitchen and afterward, lay beside me in my bed. We did not talk. I merely buried my face into his chest, closed my eyes, and tried to forget everything but him.
“What happened here?” His forehead creased into a frown when he touched the spiral scar. I caught his hand, pushing it down, and yanked my top back into place. He traced the curve of my side and drummed his fingers over belly button. His eyes remained locked on my chest. Finally, he looked at my face, and his expression softened. He reached out to touch my cheek. “I’m sorry.”
I shifted just a little, and a few strands of my hair clouded his face. He twisted the locks around four of his fingers, his eyes closing as they unraveled and fell against the pillows. “Are you?”
“I never meant to hurt you before.”
Our hands touched.
I wanted to fib again and inform him he never hurt me. Remind him we never even dated.
Not when our lips met. Not when he pulled me to him again.
And certainly not when I realized I had fallen for Wyatt Anderson.
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
He was gone in the morning, but my room still smelled like Summer Boy. It was tragic that I kept sinking my face into his pillow. I was glad he could not see me; I’d hate to hear some lame remark, calling me out. As I made my bed, carefully smoothing down the sheets that he slept on, I bit my lip to repress a smile.
My buzz was ruined only moments later when Lorelei stopped by with bad news: Francesca left. She bailed while Cam and Lorelei cavorted around Boston. To be honest, I should have anticipated something bad to happen. It was such a selfish and bitchy move that I was angry with myself for hoping Fran would screw up the nerve to be proactive. Maybe she would show up again during the Solstice and wait, gleefully, for one of the shady gods to take control of my soul.
“The hunter was here last night,” I said, as Lorelei fussed around the kitchen. She was cooking a breakfast for Dad and Cam that looked and smelled heinous.
She dropped a few more dollops of honey into the saucepan and it fizzled over the excessively high heat. “You shouldn’t joke like that just because you’re upset.” The singsong, nervous voice returned.
“Ask Wyatt. He was here and left salt and water all over the kitchen. Sick joke, huh?”
She swung around abruptly. “Well, did you get a good look at him?”
“No.”
Plopping her hands on her hips, she tapped the toe of one of her yellow platforms on the floor. The sound was unnerving, especially when I had so much on my mind. After she thought about the situation for a few minutes, she turned to the stove again. “You need to be cautious.”
“Yeah, I kind of figured that out.”
My sarcasm did not faze her. “Demeter’s hunters don’t go through so much trouble. They can’t hurt you on land, so I’m confused. And worried.”
If Lorelei was worried then I knew I should be running around, screaming erratically about the end of the world. It was only a matter of time before something horrible occurred. “Do you think it’s about the Solstice?”
She leaned over her concoction, slumping her shoulders and head. “Yes, I do.” She regained her composure, danced around in a circle, and gave me one of her I’m-a-moody-psycho smiles. “Don’t worry, we’ll figure it out!”
Sure we would, just like we figured out how to force Francesca to make a decision about my mom.
***
Earlier in the week, I made plans to have lunch with Andy, Sophie, and Matt at the Sunshine Café, but now I regretted making the commitment. Not only was I livid about Francesca punking out, but I was still troubled about Matt’s eerie guitar solo. Plus, I kind of felt like the ultimate traitor sitting next to him. Didn’t I sleep in the same bed as Golden Boy just last night?
Damn my foolish morality.
I poked at my lettuce, wishing my friends would turn their heads so I could dump salt into my water. My brain was so hazy that I couldn’t concentrate on what they were talking about. When Nicola, the server from hell, strutted to our table, I kept my eyes on Matt. His face was a mask of confusion during the excruciating meal, and I decided to confront him about my concerns once we ditched Andy and Sophie. I also wanted to come clean about Wyatt.
Still, I was not ready to deal with talking to him. Not yet. We sat together on the pier talking about colleges. He was excited about starting school next spring, and I smiled as I stared out at the ocean. I couldn’t help but nervously sink my teeth into my lip when he talked about me visiting him.
“Matt, that song you played at your friend’s party, why—”
“My mom played it for me when I was a kid,” he said.
That explained little about how or why his mom knew the Lure. I didn’t know much about his mother, other than the fact she died when he was ten, before he moved to Gloucester. Cocking his head to the side, the corner of one of his lips twitched. Wind swept strands of his hair into his eyes. The scent of menthol hit me in the face. “Why do you ask?”
“Just kind of different, that’s all,” I said.
That wasn’t all. The troublesome siren intuition kicked in, and at that moment, I knew there was something more to him.
I’m an idiot because I’ve known for a while.
My opportunity to tell him about Wyatt came as he walked me to my Jeep. He asked me about catching a movie on Saturday, dark eyes sparkling with anticipation. I felt as if someone gouged me in the forehead. Sagging my shoulders, I fixated my eyes on a piece of chewing gum stuck to the asphalt.
“You okay, Goose?”
I dug my fingers into my bag and smiled. Because a sweet expression would ease the blow of rejection, right? I don’t want to hurt you. But I want the truth from you, too. “I don’t want to lead you on,” I blurted.
His nose wrinkled, and he sat on the bumper. He didn’t seem to mind that it was filthy. Maybe he just wasn’t paying attention. “Huh?”
“I feel like I’m leading you on. And if I have, I’m sorry,” I said.
He smiled. Once I realized how strained it was, I wilted. “The guy from the festival?”
Was I so ridiculously pathetic that he noticed? My chest burned, and I felt the urge to run away. I did not want to do this. “Yes.”
He shook his head as if he understood. His shrug was nonchalant and light-hearted, but I wondered if he had an inner-voice nagging at him to say or do something else. “That’s cool, Goose.”
“Really?”
“I like you a lot, but I don’t think you’ve been a tease—at least, not too bad.” He winked. “That guy is lucky. It’s for the best, though, I guess. I was actually going to tell you this over the weekend, but I’m spending some time with my dad. Helping him with his work, you know?”
No, I didn’t know. He never mentioned his father, just his grandfather and occasionally his mom. I shook my head a little too fast. “Yeah? That’s awesome.”
He leaned down. As he grazed his lips across the side of my mouth, I shut my eyes. His fingers slid down my face, igniting my skin. The electric charge from his touch was stronger than the jolt I felt touching Wyatt the first time we met. My hand flew to my cheek. He felt the back of it and the charge continued to pulse through my body.
What is he doing to me?
“So this will probably be the last
time I see you for a while.” He ignored my stunned expression, didn’t seem to mind that I took a slow and unsteady step back toward my car.
He pushed his hands in his pockets. “Stay out of trouble, Goose. And . . . be careful. Promise me you’ll watch your back, please?”
I wanted to scream. Loudly. “I’ll try.”
He waved a tattooed arm at me before climbing in his car. I slid into my seat, watching the Camaro speed off. At last, I examined my reflection in the rearview mirror and the part of my cheek that he touched. The shimmering bronze impression of five fingertips decorated my skin.
I rested the back of my head on the headrest and bit my lip.
“Unless they let us know who they are, their identities can only be revealed through touch,” Lorelei had said when we talked about demigods.
Matt had royally duped me.
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
Lorelei was not around to listen to me rant about my epic Matt revelation. Once again, she and Cam were spending a romantic evening in Boston. I was too dazed to gag over it. After I recovered some from the shock, I called Matt. Voicemail boxes and I are old friends; I left him numerous messages. I wish I knew where he lived. Even if I did, I was not so sure he’d answer the door.
“Matt, it’s me again. Please call back. We seriously need to talk, and—” Hands touched my shoulders. I slammed my phone shut. I twisted my body, looked up, and strained a tight smile at Wyatt.
He laughed at the pointed look I gave him. “Did I scare you?” He’d invited me over to the McMansion a few hours ago, and at first, I was awkward about our new relationship status. It was going to take some getting used to and flaunting it around in front of his father seemed like a crap idea. I told him his dad would probably have a breakdown when he saw us together. He insisted that his parents would not kick me out or call the cops.
Since Kyle was making the rounds and admitting what a lying jerk he was, that made me semi-decent in Mr. Anderson’s eyes. Did I appreciate his sudden approval? Hell no, but at least it was a start.
Wyatt eased down beside me on the wooden patio planks and stared out at the sea. Tonight, we said few words, but I didn’t push him away when his fingertips moved across the back of my hand then touched mine. Realizing that I was crazy about him and knowing that he didn’t return those emotions made me feel worse for Lorelei.
“Thinking about me?” he asked, grinning.
Sort of. But mostly, I’m thinking about an asshole who lied to me. Not that I could tell Golden Boy that. My face was proof of Matt’s deception. The iridescent mark was slowly fading, but Wyatt had noticed it as soon as he picked me up. He’d cocked his head to one side, furrowed his forehead, and said, “You forgot to spray the rest of you.” Despite the seriousness of the situation, I’d laughed. I wished that I could blame the scene with Matt on a cheap can of bronzer.
“What’d your dad say about the break-in?”
Matt’s face evaporated from my thoughts; an image of my kitchen doused with salt and water replaced it. I’d promised Golden Boy that I would tell my father about the incident, but of course I hadn’t. Dad would lose it. Dealing with the cops for a crime they’d never solve wasn’t exactly the best end to summer vacation. Wyatt continued to stare at me, like he was waiting for me to say something about last night, so I just shook my head.
He pulled me to him. “You’re quiet. Scary. Don’t you want to argue with me or call me Golden or something?”
No. I just wanted quietness, peace—a normal life.
“Char?” Mom’s calm, even voice interrupted my sulking. Wyatt jumped as I catapulted from his lap. I waited for her to speak again, praying that I did not imagine it in a fit of ‘psycho siren’ depression.
Wyatt’s hand touched my neck and trailed down my spine to the small of my back. “You alright?”
She spoke again. This time, her voice was loud and strong. “I’m ready.” For a moment, I wondered if this was a treacherous hunter trap. I refused to wait and find out. Mom called for me. No screaming. No crying. Just a soft whisper that reminded me of her knocking on my door each morning and telling me to get ready for school.
“Can I have a glass of water?” I wheezed.
He smiled crookedly. “It would be nice if you drank something besides water, but yeah. I’ll be right back.”
As soon as he disappeared into the house, I raced towards the sea. My decision was hasty, and I had to admit I felt like an idiot as I stumbled over my own feet. Not that I gave a crap. Her relaxed tone made me wonder why she needed me.
Gave me delirious hope.
I threw myself into the ocean, letting it pull my weightless body down. There were other souls around, and I promised I would guide them later. For now, I just wanted to find my mom.
She found me after only a minute. It seemed as if the thud of my heart would make my head ignite. I dug my fingernails into my palms and waited for her to speak. Waited for her to put me out of my misery with an explanation.
My mom looked the same, yet completely different. Because this time, she smiled. Torment did not distort her liquid face. This time, she was at peace.
“I was beginning to worry about how long it would take you,” she said, hovering in front of me. Her hand grasped mine. We swam in silence to the platform with her leading the way. She’d waited so long for this moment that she could guide me. Realizing that made my chest burn. “The blue-eyed woman helped me.” She gestured to the dazzling path below us. “She said she’d let you do the rest.”
Francesca—in all of her spoiled craziness—had not just vanished without keeping her word. Too bad she never felt the urge to tell me what she did before leaving. I wouldn’t complain, though. Perhaps she and Mom conspired to keep this a surprise. I wanted to remind my mother how much I despised surprises, but I squeezed her sheer hand.
We traveled down the path until we floated just above the radiance. The shades of pink and gold reflected off Mom’s beaming face as I turned to her. “I’m sorry about Kyle,” I said.
Clear strands of hair wrapped around both of us when she shook her head and touched her fingers to my lips. “You have good intentions. But you’re like your dad and Cam”—she pressed her hand harder against my mouth as I tried to protest—“even though you swear you’re not.” She lowered her eyes to the whirlpool and smiled. “Then again, if you weren’t so hasty, I might have had to wait another fifty or sixty years. Take care of Dan and Cameron. And help Lorelei. I have a feeling everything will work out between her and your brother. Just don’t forget me, okay?”
I didn’t ask how she knew Lorelei. I just tried to figure out how to say goodbye. Never got that chance before, and now, I was scared to. This was a good farewell, what I wanted for her. I felt selfish for wanting to keep her around longer.
“I could never forget you,” I whispered. “I love you, Mom.”
She dipped her face beside mine. I shivered at the sensation of her lips sliding down my cheek. “Love you too, Char. I know we’ll see each other again.” She walked backward, granting me one last smile before bursting into a spiral of tiny jets that danced into the vortex.
“Bye Mom.”
***
I resurfaced on another part of the beach, far away from Wyatt’s house so I could regroup before returning to him. No doubt, my excuse would be far-fetched. I was drenched from head to toe. “Well, he is used to screwy stuff happening whenever I’m around water,” I murmured.
“Yeah, I am. But this definitely is new.” His voice shook me, and I almost dived under again in hopes that he didn’t take a good look at me. Trying to convince him that he was delusional would be pointless and a waste of my time. It hadn’t worked very well when I told him he imagined certain details of his car crash so I was definitely screwed now. I swam over to where he knelt down on one of the rocks. He tilted his head to one side and pursed his lips together until they turned white. “You really aren’t like other girls.”
“No, I don’t think so eithe
r,” I said, gripping the craggy surface for support. I waited for him to run off screaming ‘mermaid’ or ‘fish girl’, but he rubbed his fingers on my moist cheek. “You’re not freaking out. Why aren’t you freaking out?”
Don’t get me wrong, I didn’t exactly want to witness Golden Boy hyperventilating and breaking out in a rash. Still, if it happened, I wouldn’t blame him. So why was he so calm?
He shrugged, looking surprised that he hadn’t gone into shock. At any moment, it would set in—I was 98% positive. Would he run back to his house and tell his parents I was a witch? Or maybe even a demon? I bet money his dad would totally buy his story, and I was glad Massachusetts had done away with that nasty habit of hanging “witches.”
“I’ve always known there was something different about you. Ever since the night I wrecked my truck. You lied then, by the way. Just like you lied about telling your dad about the guy who broke into your house,” he said. “But your squinting is kind of sexy, so that’s okay.”
Hearing him say those words aloud should have made me nervous, but he was smiling. And I relaxed. “Aren’t you going to ask me what’s wrong with me? Aren’t you scared shitless about what I might do to you?”
Leaning forward, he laughed. I knew he was fighting to sound so collected, so indifferent. “Maybe I’ll get wasted tonight and then you can tell me. Don’t think it makes a difference. All I know is that I want to be with you.”
What was wrong with him? He’d witnessed me staying underwater for God knows how long, and he still thought we belonged together? “I could hurt you,” I warned. “Actually, I can make you kill yourself.”
His mouth was inches from mine. I recalled the painting Lorelei directed me to the day she told me about being a siren, the one of her sitting on the rock staring down at the love-struck mortal. The corners of my lips twisted up as I realized how Wyatt and I were the exact opposite.
I didn’t get to enjoy the moment for very long. Something clamped around my foot. I swallowed hard, trying to remember how to speak so I could tell Wyatt to get the hell away from me. I only managed to stare up at him with enlarged eyes and a wide open mouth. The rock I held onto was slippery as I tried to keep my head above water.
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