“Every time I come to this house, there’s a decapitated body in the living room,” Marcy said. But she didn’t seem to mind it. She crouched to inspect Penn’s headless, winged body.
Gemma and Thea stood in the doorway, talking in hushed murmurs to one another. Daniel put his arm around Harper and watched them with his brow furrowed.
“Is everyone here?” Daniel asked, and looked around. “Is everyone okay?”
“Liv and Penn are dead,” Alex said, and Daniel looked over at him for the first time. Then Alex’s expression darkened. “But Kirby didn’t make it.”
“Oh, no,” Harper whispered.
“How are you holding up?” Daniel asked. “You look pretty banged up.”
Alex glanced down at his shirt, which was stained red with blood. “Most of this isn’t mine. I’ve been hugging Gemma a lot. So I’m okay.”
“So is this curse broken then?” Daniel asked.
“I don’t know,” Harper admitted. “Diana said that if we killed Penn, we wouldn’t need to break the curse. But Gemma still seemed to have her siren strength when she opened the bathroom door.”
“She just healed up. Maybe the siren blood hasn’t completely evaporated,” Alex suggested.
Harper shook her head, like she wasn’t convinced, then stepped away from Daniel and walked over to the railing. “What’s going on? Is the curse broken?”
Gemma turned and smiled thinly up at her. “Yeah. It’s over.”
“But…” Harper trailed off, and Daniel stepped behind her and gently put his hand on her back. “You’re still strong, and Thea is still here. I thought if the curse was broken, she’d turn to dust.”
“That was one theory, but it’s wrong,” Gemma said.
“Then what’s the correct theory?” Daniel asked, and Gemma glanced back to Thea, like she needed answers herself.
“That we’ll just slowly become mortal again,” Thea supplied. “The siren powers will slowly drain from our body over the next few days, then we’ll be regular humans again. I’ll live out a natural, human life.”
“Then how do you know it’s over?” Harper asked. “If nothing’s changed, then how can you be sure?”
“We didn’t say nothing’s changed,” Gemma corrected her. “I can feel it. Inside.” She paused, and her cheeks darkened. “I’m not as hungry.”
“So you’re sure?” Harper asked again.
Gemma nodded. “Yes. I’m sure.”
Thea said something to Gemma too quiet for Daniel or anyone up in the loft to hear. Then Gemma nodded, Thea turned and walked away. Gemma hugged herself and watched as Thea departed.
“What happened?” Harper asked. “Where is she going?”
“She wanted to go see the mountains or the plains or a desert.” Gemma shrugged. “Anywhere she hasn’t been able to see in thousands of years.”
“So what does that mean?” Harper asked. “Are we finally free of the sirens?”
“Yes.” Gemma let out a deep breath. “We’re finally free.”
FIFTY-THREE
Depletion
“I swear, Dad, breakfast has never tasted this good,” Harper said as she shoveled another forkful of scrambled eggs into her mouth.
Brian watched her eat with a mixture of amusement and surprise. “I’ve made you this same thing a hundred times before.”
“Nope.” She shook her head. “This is better. This is the best.”
Last night, after they’d all finally finished dealing with the mess of dead bodies and crashed cars out on the cliff, Harper and Gemma had gotten home very, very late. And then they’d sat up for a long time explaining everything to their dad.
Harper had hardly eaten anything yesterday, but she’d been too sore, tired, and anxious to eat when they got home. But when she woke up today, she was absolutely ravenous.
Brian had been awake for a while, so he’d already eaten breakfast, but he insisted on making it for her. Maybe it was just because he was her dad, and he wanted to do something nice for her. Or maybe it was a little because of how terrible she still looked.
In the morning, she’d caught sight of her reflection in the mirror, and it wasn’t pretty. She’d showered last night to get off all the blood and dirt, but that still left her with plenty of scratches and bruises. Daniel had wanted her to go to the hospital to see if she needed stitches in her arm, but she just wrapped it in gauze, and so far it seemed to be doing fine. She had a gash on her left cheek, and a nasty bruise on her neck, but the rest she’d be able to cover with long sleeves and jeans when she got back to school.
“Hey, sleepyhead,” Brian said, as Gemma stumbled into the kitchen. “I thought you were never gonna wake up.”
She didn’t have a scratch on her since she’d healed up entirely last night. Her eyes looked a bit tired, and she clearly wasn’t very awake. But otherwise, Gemma looked about the same as she always did.
“What are you all doing up so early?” Gemma yawned and collapsed into an empty chair at the table.
“It’s noon,” Harper said between bites of food. “It’s not that early.”
“Maybe not, but I’m still exhausted.” Her hair was coming loose from the messy bun she had it up in, and she readjusted it.
“You look better than you did last night,” Brian said, then he looked at Harper. “You, not so much.”
“Thanks, Dad,” Harper said dryly.
“I’m just saying that your sister’s right. You probably should rest up,” Brian told her.
“I’m fine. I’m better than fine,” Harper insisted. Her elation seemed to ward off most of the pain, but she’d taken a couple Advil when she woke up to get rid of the rest of the soreness and body aches. “But Gemma did heal awfully fast.”
“Yeah, I’d mostly healed last night when I transitioned back from the monster.”
“So this is really over?” Brian rested his arms on the table and looked at Gemma. “You’re sure that you’re not a siren anymore?”
“Yes, it’s over,” Gemma said firmly. “I can already feel my siren powers waning. They’ll be entirely gone in a few days. It’s hard to explain it, but I just know.”
Harper had finished all her food, so she pushed the plate aside and looked at her sister. “You’re absolutely sure?”
“Come on, guys.” Gemma laughed, but it sounded a tad uneasy. “I think I would know if I were still a siren. Okay?”
Harper studied her and shook her head. “I just can’t tell anymore.”
“What do you mean?” Gemma asked.
“I don’t know if this is you-pretty or siren-pretty.”
Gemma smirked. “I’ll just take that as a compliment.”
The doorbell rang, so Harper got up to get it. When she left the kitchen, Brian was trying to talk Gemma into eating some of the extra sausage he’d made, but she was declining.
“Wow,” Alex said when Harper answered the door and found him standing on the doorstep. “Penn really did a number on you.”
“Yeah, Penn was pissed. But she’s dead now.” Harper couldn’t help but smile when she said it.
Penn had been torturing her and the people she loved for so long, and now it was like a giant, monstrous weight had been lifted. She hadn’t felt this happy in a very long time.
“You actually look perfectly fine,” Harper told Alex. He had a bruise on his arm, but that was about all she could see, and he was wearing a T-shirt and shorts.
“I know. Most of the blood just washed off, and there wasn’t much underneath,” he said.
“Come on in.” Harper opened the door wider. “Gemma’s in the kitchen eating breakfast. I think there’s some leftover sausage if you wanna join us.”
“Sure.” He shrugged and followed her into the kitchen.
When Gemma saw him, she smiled, and her whole face lit up. “Hey.”
“Hey.” Alex went over and kissed her, until Brian cleared his throat loudly. Then Alex straightened up and smiled politely at him. “Morning, Mr. Fisher.”
<
br /> “Morning, Alex,” Brian said gruffly, making Harper laugh a little as she sat back down.
Alex pulled up a chair closer to Gemma. “How are you feeling?”
“Pretty good. Just sleepy.” She yawned again, as if to emphasize it, and she reached over, holding Alex’s hand under the table.
“So after breakfast, I was thinking I would go out to visit Marcy,” Harper said. “You wanna join me?”
Gemma shook her head. “No. I think I’m gonna take a nap.”
“You just woke up,” Harper said, dubious.
“I’m tired,” she insisted. “Losing my powers is exhausting.”
“Okay.” Harper shrugged and turned to Alex. “What about you, Alex?”
“If Gemma’s just gonna be napping…” He trailed off and looked to Gemma to see if it was okay.
“You go ahead,” Gemma told him. “Marcy’s always liked you, and she could use some cheering up.”
He looked perplexed. “I thought Marcy hated me.”
“No, that’s just her personality,” Harper said.
“Do you guys mind if I go lie down?” Gemma let go of Alex’s hand and pushed herself back from the table. “I think I woke up too early, actually.”
“You sure you’re okay?” Brian asked, concerned. “You didn’t eat any breakfast.”
“Yeah. I’m fine. I’ll feel better if I sleep some more.” Gemma stood up. “Tell Marcy that I’m sorry and thanks for everything.”
“Will do,” Harper said.
Alex stood, so Gemma leaned up and kissed him. She made sure to keep it short enough so her dad wouldn’t have to clear his throat again, then she waved ’bye to everyone and headed to her room.
“She’s acting strange, right?” Harper asked once she heard Gemma’s feet on the stairs. “You all agree with me.”
“Yeah, but after last night, can you really blame her?” Brian asked.
“And if she’s losing all her siren powers, that has to feel really draining,” Alex agreed, and sat back down. “Going from superstrong to, you know, mortal again has to feel strange.”
Harper considered it, then nodded. Physically, going from an immortal creature back to a normal teenage girl had to be a crazy feeling. Not to mention all the stress and fighting last night.
“Yeah. That’s probably it,” Harper agreed.
“Alex,” Brian said, making Alex sit up straighter. “I don’t want you to think that since you helped save my daughters’ lives that I’m gonna let you do what you want now. The old rules still apply. If I catch you in Gemma’s bedroom, I will feel absolutely no guilt in cutting off whatever appendages you’re touching her with.”
Alex gulped. “That sounds fair, Mr. Fisher.”
FIFTY-FOUR
Requiem
Marcy lived in a tiny apartment above a souvenir shop two blocks from the beach. All summer, she hated it because of the tourists, but in the winter, when no one was around, she loved it.
Harper and Alex stood on the landing outside her apartment door. Between the buildings, she could see Anthemusa Bay, and she could hear the sounds of people laughing and music playing.
“Hello.” Lydia opened the door, smiling brightly.
“Hey, Lydia, I didn’t know you were here,” Harper said.
“Since Marcy lives alone, I thought I would come play nursemaid.” And that explained Lydia’s tiny white hat with a red cross on it.
“That’s really nice of you,” Harper said, and she gestured to Alex. “I’m not sure if you’ve been properly introduced, but this is Alex Lane. He’s Gemma’s boyfriend.”
“No, we haven’t met, but it’s nice to meet you.” She shook his hand. “I’m Lydia Panning.”
“I’ve heard a lot about you,” he said.
Lydia did a small curtsy in the fluffy pink skirt she was wearing. “I hope I live up to your expectations.”
“How is she doing?” Harper asked, hoping to get an update before they went inside the apartment.
“Okay. She’s spent most of the morning on the couch, cuddling with her ferret Bruce and watching old Scooby Doo episodes.” Lydia lowered her voice. “She’s been crying some, but I think that’s more about Kirby than any physical pain.”
Harper nodded. Marcy had always had a terrible time expressing normal emotions, even when she was grieving. When Lydia came inside, Marcy was sitting on her couch with her injured leg propped up on a beanbag chair.
On the wall behind her was a huge, framed, black-and-white photo that was supposedly of the Loch Ness Monster, but really it just looked like a stick to Harper.
“Hey.” Harper smiled and sat down on the couch next to her. “How are you holding up, sweetie?”
“‘Sweetie’?” Marcy gave her an odd look. “I messed up my leg. I didn’t turn into an octogenarian with a penchant for kittens.”
“We just came to see how you’re doing,” Alex said, and he leaned against the arm of the couch next to Harper, as if he were afraid of getting any closer to Marcy and disturbing her.
Marcy shrugged. “All right, considering.”
“I was gonna make her some soup,” Lydia said. “It’s my grandma’s special recipe. Do you guys want any?”
“You should totally try it,” Marcy said.
“I’m okay. I just ate.” Harper patted her belly.
“So did I, but I’ll have a bowl,” Alex said.
Lydia disappeared into the small, adjoining kitchen, and soon they heard pots and pans banging around. Scooby Doo was solving some kind of mystery involving an old groundskeeper on the television, and Marcy watched intently for a few minutes before turning it down.
“Have you talked to the police anymore?” Marcy asked, looking over at Harper.
“Not since last night.”
With everything that had happened, they’d thought it was best to call the police. After they got rid of Penn’s and Liv’s bodies, of course. Harper had thought that Thea had left the area, but she’d really just gone down the hill to get Liv’s body.
Once she came back with all of Liv’s parts, she threw them over the cliff, and Gemma and Daniel did the same with Penn’s body. Thea claimed that in the saltwater, the siren’s body would dissolve over a couple hours, so there’d be nothing to find.
As for the sirens’ house, they cleaned up as much of the blood as they could, then they locked it up and left it. Thea said that since Penn had scared everyone away, they could leave it empty for a long time before anyone noticed. So they’d decided to wait a week or two, then, just to be safe, they would burn it down, destroying any other evidence that was left behind.
The only thing they’d really told the police about was Kirby, and that had been simpler. They said that Marcy was driving up to the cliff to be alone with Kirby. Then a tree damaged in a bad storm in August had fallen over, landing on the roof. She skidded out of the way, smashed into another tree, and Kirby had gotten killed in the wreck.
It might have sounded unbelievable, but thanks to Gemma’s and Thea’s residual siren charms, the cops seemed to believe it. And besides, there wasn’t another obvious reason for a fallen tree or smashed-up car.
“You think they bought it all?” Marcy asked.
Harper nodded. “Gemma and Thea managed to convince them.”
“Here.” Lydia came into the living room carrying a salt-and-pepper ferret that was at least twice as fat as any ferret should be, and she handed it to Marcy. “He keeps trying to get in the pot.”
“Bruce loves his chicken.” Marcy petted him as he tried to nibble on her fingers. “It’s ’cause he’s a member of the weasel family. They’re super into birds.”
“How are you doing with the whole Kirby thing?” Harper asked, deciding that it might be a good time to bring it up since Marcy was holding Bruce.
“I don’t know. We weren’t dating for very long but…” Tears welled in her eyes, looking even larger through her thick glasses, and she shook her head and sniffled. “What’s done is done.”
/> “Did you hear when his funeral is?” Alex asked.
“Not yet. I haven’t talked to his parents or anything, and I don’t want to.” She held her ferret closer to her, and he sniffed at a lone tear that slid down her cheek. “So I’ll probably just find out when they post it in the obituary.”
Harper reached over and rubbed her friend’s back, and surprisingly, Marcy let her. Which meant that she actually had to be really upset about all of this.
Lydia came in a few minutes later carrying two bowls of soup. “Here you guys go.” She handed one to Alex, then handed the other to Marcy, trading it for Bruce. “How is Gemma doing today?”
“Good. She’s pretty tired, so she’s at home sleeping,” Harper said. “She wanted me to send you her best.”
“I don’t know what that means.” Marcy shrugged. “So tell her that I send her my awesomest.”
“So … is she human?” Lydia asked, trying to sound nonchalant. She stood off to the side of the room, petting the ferret.
“Yeah. Penn’s dead,” Harper said. “It was like Diana said. With her dead, the curse is broken.”
“Well, actually, Diana said, ‘If you tried to kill Penn, then you wouldn’t need to break the curse.’” It was the overly casual way she said it that unnerved Harper, like she was trying too hard to make it sound like none of this mattered, but she really thought it did.
“Yeah, that’s what I said,” Harper said, nearly snapping at her.
“No, it’s a little different.” Lydia set Bruce down. “Because I was talking to Pine about the translations, and it doesn’t sound like it matters if you kill Penn or any of the sirens, as long as they’re replaced.”
“The translation is wrong then,” Harper told her harshly. “Because Gemma said the curse is broken. Tell her, Alex.”
“It’s over,” Alex agreed, but he sounded confused, like he didn’t completely understand the exchange between Harper and Lydia. “I mean, I asked her directly, and so did Harper, and she says over. And why would she lie?”
“Maybe she doesn’t know,” Marcy suggested.
Lydia shook her head. “She would know.”
Elegy (A Watersong Novel) Page 37