Chapter Forty-Two
PISCES
TWO YEARS AGO
The too-warm glow from the streetlight at the corner barely reaches where I sit staring at the lake across from me. It’s become part of my little ritual whenever my emotions start to get the better of me.
I sit on the bench and stare at the water, forcing myself to take deep breaths. Letting the sounds of the crash play in my head while grounding myself. I focus on the damp grain of the wooden bench beneath me. Let my fingers feel the cool metal of the bolts holding the planks together.
I can see the car going over the bridge, like some sort of out-of-body experience. I hear the loud splash, if you can even call it that, as the car hits the water.
I can see her face, eyes open, unseeing, blood dripping, head slumped against the dashboard. At least she hadn’t drowned.
I told myself that over and over and over again after I woke up in the hospital.
Because I thought I had drowned.
I almost did.
Everything had almost winked out for me as I struggled to get out of the car. As water filled it at a rate that sent me into a panic.
I force air out through my lips and breathe in fully through my nose.
I’m here. I’m alive.
Even if the guilt eats at me. It’s better to feel that than nothing at all, I remind myself.
The chilly night air absorbs some of my spiraling, forcing an alertness into my body. It’s why I come out here at night. It’s hard to get angry or frustrated or upset when it’s so damn cold out.
The cold air demands a clear head.
I’m about to leave when I notice him, standing a few paces away, staring at me.
I recognize the wraith instantly.
No surprise there. His face haunts me almost as often as hers does.
“You.” It’s all I can say. I mean it in a threatening way, but the word comes out pathetically. I’ve started charging at him before I can even stop myself or think that maybe it’s not the best idea to attack the demon that turned me.
A song wraith.
Shaun brought me a few books on song wraiths—the few he was able to get hold of—but seeing as they were supposedly all banished centuries ago, I gave up ever trying to find a solution to what I’ve become.
Instead of colliding with him, I go through him, crashing to the ground.
I twist myself around and look at him, my siren teeth escaping my gums without my permission. “Undo it!”
The wraith, quicker than I can even react, hauls me back up. He has me by the shirt collar and holds me off the ground, which is quite the feat considering he’s an inch or two shorter than me.
But obviously so much stronger.
“Do not attempt to bite me, siren. I will rip every one of your teeth from your mouth if you do.”
I clamp my mouth shut as he throws me to the ground. I scramble backwards across the paved walkway, the rough concrete scraping at my skin. “Why are you back? What more can you take from me?”
“I have no plans to take from you. I would like to give instead.”
“What does that mean?”
He crouches in front of me, and I can’t help but think his pristine slacks and button-down shirt won’t have a single wrinkle when he stands back up.
“I will admit, I did not expect you to survive. You had so much pain in you that night.” The alley.
He tricked me into feeding him. After Evan and Shaun explained the basics of how Made far are, well, made, I understood it was a miracle I’d survived.
It’s the reason I’ve never met another siren in the last four years.
I wouldn’t be surprised if I am the only one in existence.
The wraith continues on, either oblivious to my current train of thought or un-remorseful.
“But to my surprise and delight, you’ve survived. ”
“Why would you care?”
“I am sure you think I relish in dealing out death, but I don’t.” He stands back up, holding out a hand to me. I ignore it and push myself to my feet. “I wish I could feed without harming innocents, but it can’t always be avoided.”
I arch my brow at him. I don’t really care what he’s going on about. I want him to undo what he did to me. “Change me back,” I say, voice hardening. “Fix me!”
The wraith gives me a condescendingly soft smile. “That I cannot do. The change you have gone through is permanent, I’m afraid.”
“At least try! There has to be some way!”
“The only way to unmake what you are would be death. Is that what you want?”
No of course not, should be the words that come out, but I find I cannot speak them. I hate what I’ve been turned into. If death is the only way to not be a monster, I can’t deny the appeal.
Too slowly, too late, I reply, “No.”
The wraith looks unconvinced, his head cocked to the side.
“I thought you had found meaning in life again,” he muses, starting to walk around me in a circle, until he’s behind me.
I stay where I am. If he’s going to kill me, so be it.
I don’t think I could stop him even if I wanted to fight.
“Your music, it has helped people. I thought that’s what you do now.
You help people through your music, or through your group of misfits taking in little Made orphans. ”
I bristle at his word choice. Maybe I will fight after all. “Leave them out of it.”
“What if I could offer you another way to absolve your sins?”
He’s right behind me. His words too close to my ears. I whip around and he’s gone.
“Remember that night in the alley?” His voice comes from behind me. I turn again and he’s standing with his hands in his pockets, head still cocked to the side. “I told you that you could save her.”
“Not falling for that again, mate,” I say, snarling at him.
He smirks at me and lifts a shoulder casually. “I’m not asking you to. I want to give you something, like I said. In exchange, you would be helping people.”
“So there’s a catch.”
“Not really,” he replies. Something in his form almost seems to ripple. He can tell I’ve noticed. “I don’t have much time. I want to make a deal with you.”
“What’s the deal?” I’m wary of anything this wraith has to offer. I know I can’t trust him. But I do know wraiths are bound by their deals.
“You can feel emotions of those around you. Tell me, does it get more intense when you’re performing?”
I blanche. How does he know that? Without meaning to, I nod. Nothing in the books Shaun has given me has really explained that. I pick up on emotions, but when I’m singing, when I’m performing, I can feel myself take on the emotions of the crowd. The bigger the shows, the worse it’s been getting.
The wraith takes out a small pendant, attached to a thin gold chain. The pendant itself is the size of my pinkie and the color of a dark blue sky just after sunset.
“This allows the emotions you take on from the crowd to pass to me. It will be easier on you as well. The rate you’re going, you will burn out.”
His words strike a chord in me. I thought I just wasn’t feeding regularly enough. But maybe this is a different downside of being a siren that I haven’t considered. There really isn’t much information out there on fae like me.
“This is what you’re giving me?” I ask, eyeing the pendant as it swings innocuously from his hand.
“No, this is what I get in return. The power this pendant absorbs will flow to me. It’ll allow me to feed without harming others.”
I don’t really know what to say to that. Perhaps that’s enough reason to accept what he’s offering.
“If you wear this at each of your performances and you develop a following, a truly loyal following,” he continues, “I will deliver you an offering.”
“And what is that offering?”
“I will bring your love to you.”
My love? Leighton’s face appears before me. “You can do that?”
“Yes,” he says simply, spreading his hands as if to say why not?
“You can bring someone back from the dead, but you can’t undo what you’ve done to me?”
The wraith narrows his eyes at me. “Siren, I am growing tired of this conversation. I cannot change the type of fae someone is, nor can I unmake a Made fae. Moving people between realms is difficult but not impossible.” He swings the pendant closer to me.
“Will you do as I asked? And in return I will bring her to you.”
I owe Leighton this.
In spite of everything we put each other through, I owe her a second chance.
I reach out and take the pendant from his outstretched fingers.
“Yes.”