Chapter 27. Caitlyn #2
I pulled it out and was momentarily confused to see Jake’s name on the screen, before remembering the message I’d sent him last night about Priscilla.
I accepted the call, and Jake’s face filled the screen, flushed bright red as if he’d just finished a run.
From the snippets of background I could see, he was sitting in Lex’s new house.
“Hi, Jake,” I said.
Instead of his usual cheerful greeting, he blurted out, “How did you find out about Pris?”
“You knew she was part siren?” I asked, disbelief slipping straight into my voice.
“Of course I knew. I mean, it’s pretty obvious,” he said. “She just didn’t want the whole coven to know.”
“Does your grandmother know?” I asked. Surely Lily Cole wouldn’t allow someone with Priscilla’s personality and the ability to compel others to have free rein in the coven.
Jake scoffed, his voice edging on defensive.
“Of course our head of coven knows.” Then he paused and added more carefully, “Sorry. I didn’t mean that to come out like that.
I’ve known about Priscilla since before we started hanging out.
And when Grandma found out we’d gotten close, she told me about Priscilla’s mom.
She’d always known Isadora was half siren, but she gave her the benefit of the doubt. For Priscilla’s sake.”
I resisted the urge to drag my hand down my face. Seriously—why was everyone suddenly lining up to get on the Priscilla-fucking-Raisin bandwagon?
“And you’re sure Priscilla hasn’t just... compelled you all into believing she’s not dangerous?” I asked.
Beside me, Ambrose shifted uncomfortably. And maybe I was being paranoid, but I could’ve sworn my mate was debating getting onto that damn bandwagon too.
Jake huffed a laugh, his russet brows lifting as if the idea itself was ridiculous.
“Look, I know none of you like Priscilla. And I know she’s been a bully.
But it’s not my place to excuse or defend her.
” His expression softened. “I just... know a different side to her. And I know she would never do that.”
I resisted the urge to puke. From everything I’d seen, Priscilla had been just as nasty to Jake as she’d been to the rest of us, so unless this other side only surfaced when no one else was around, I wasn’t buying it.
“Anyway,” Jake continued, smoothly changing tack, “why do you want to know about sirens and how their magic works?” He reached into his pocket, pulled out a pair of glasses, and slid them on—his tell that he’d slipped into academic mode.
“It’s a long story,” I said, flicking a glance at Ambrose.
“But we found out that Priscilla’s mom is planning to steal Creep from me.
And apparently, she’s going to do it using a conch.
” My voice lifted at the end, because I still couldn’t quite wrap my head around how a seashell could possibly pose a threat.
Jake hooked a finger under his chin and nodded slowly. “It would depend on a number of factors. But—essentially—yes. She probably could compel your house with a conch. At least temporarily.”
My stomach sank.
“First, and most importantly,” he continued, “it depends on how strong Isadora’s song is.
Being half siren doesn’t automatically mean the magic is diluted.
Siren magic works a lot like witch magic—we can all cast spells and hexes, but we’re strongest within our own branch.
All sirens can compel to some extent, but only certain lineages are born for it. ”
He paused, clearly checking that I was following, then carried on.
“If Isadora isn’t from a compulsion-focused lineage—and I’m inclined to think she isn’t, otherwise she probably wouldn't need a conch just to compel a sentient house—then her control would be weaker. Sirens often use objects as vessels for their songs, usually seashells because they’re prized and symbolically important.
They sing into them, storing the magic for later use. ”
Jake’s eyes lit up. “Actually, I read an article once about a branch of Atlantic sirens who imbued their siren shells with anti-compulsion magic and traded them with supernaturals crossing the sea centuries ago to protect them against other choruses of sirens—”
I coughed pointedly.
He blinked, pulled back from what was clearly about to become a full lecture on sixteenth-century siren trade routes, and cleared his throat. “Sorry. Right. Point is—yes, it’s possible. But it wouldn’t be absolute. And it wouldn’t last forever.”
He continued, more measured now. “If Isadora were from a lineage of sirens that specialized in compulsion, and she used a shell that held deep personal meaning, then—yeah—I’d be worried. That combination is dangerous.”
My stomach tightened.
“But,” Jake added quickly, “if she’s from a different siren lineage—which, as I said, I’m inclined to believe she is—then her compulsion would be significantly weaker.
She’d likely need to stay physically close to maintain it.
Even with a meaningful shell, it probably wouldn’t hold for more than a few hours at most before the magic drains.
She’d have to keep singing into it for the effect to last.”
I glanced at Ambrose. The tightness in his chest eased just a fraction.
“What do you keep looking at?” Jake asked.
I tilted the phone as Ambrose shuffled into frame.
Jake’s eyes widened, surprise melting instantly into delight.
“Hi, dude!” he said to Ambrose. “I’m guessing you’re Ambrose?
Lochran told me all about the remaining demons, which I don’t think he was supposed to do, but I managed to get it out of him.
Oh my Gods!” he said to me. “Lex is going to be thrilled you’ve stumbled across your mate! ”
“Mates,” I corrected, a little sheepish. “I kind of have two. Blaise is still asleep.”
Jake leaned so far back his face vanished from the shaking screen, leaving only a flop of russet hair visible as he apparently kicked his legs in excitement.
When he resurfaced, his face was practically pressed to the camera. “Please, please, please tell me I can be the one to tell Lex and Lochran,” he begged. “They really need it, what with Lochran being shot and the trial coming up.”
Ice flooded through me as the words registered.
“Lochran—what?” I sputtered at the exact same time Ambrose said, “Lochran was shot?”
Jake, meanwhile, seemed completely nonplussed.
“Oh, yeah. You wouldn’t have known—” His eyes flicked suddenly to something beyond the screen, and he flushed deeply as a door slammed somewhere in front of him.
“Oh—hi, Billy,” he said. “I, um, I thought you weren’t getting here until a little later.
” The camera shifted as he moved. “Lex and Lochran are just at Mom and Dad’s, to, uh.
..” He trailed off awkwardly. “But it’s nice to see you again.
” He shrugged, far too casually. “I was just, y’know, hanging out with the house.
” Another shrug. “Because, y’know—” He stopped.
Blinked. His gaze dropped to the phone as if only just remembering he was on a call. “Oh! I’m just talking to Caitlyn!”
Oh my Gods, this was the most painful thing I’d ever had to watch. Was I this bad when I rambled?
He swiveled the camera around to reveal a startled, caught-in-the-headlights Billy standing in the doorway, a broom enthusiastically sweeping around her like a puppy whose favorite person had just walked into the room.
The camera swung back to Jake as he got to his feet. “I, um—well, it was nice to see you again,” he said, already moving through the house. “I just wanted to say hi... and I guess bye too, since I’m leaving tonight...”
He seemed to forget again that he was still on a phone call. The phone dropped to his side, and for a brief second I caught a glimpse of Billy, still frozen in place, eyes wide and cheeks flushed.
“You’re leaving?” she asked.
“Yup,” Jake said. “Last-minute PhD thing. I, um...” He reached for the doorknob. “I have to pack, but... maybe, if you’re not busy later, I could stop by and, like—” He fumbled for a second before settling on “—tell you what my PhD is about, or, whatever.”
Before she could answer, he bolted through the door.
His phone dangled uselessly at his side as he ran down the lane, chanting under his breath, “Don’t think about it, don’t think about it. She can literally read your mind. Do not think about it.”
Deciding to leave Jake to whatever the hells that was, I hung up the phone.
“How dangerous is it for an incubus to get shot?” I asked Ambrose.
He considered it for a moment before shrugging. “Probably not very dangerous. We heal almost instantly.”
Between Ambrose’s calm answer and Jake’s total nonchalance about the whole thing, I figured Lex didn’t need a panicked phone call on top of everything else. I’d be heading home soon enough anyway—I could check in on her then.