Chapter Three
The next morning, I found myself clutching a small plate of cookies like they were a lifeline.
Not that I trusted them to magically fix everything, but they were something.
Tangible. Safe. Sweet. A peace offering, even if I felt a little pathetic recruiting an elderly weregator to play confectionery peacemaker.
I spotted Poppy near the front door of her shop, chatting with one of the local witches before the day really got underway.
My stomach did a nervous flip, and I almost turned back.
Half of me expected her to be standoffish, maybe even rude.
I hadn’t exactly been rushing to explain myself the night before.
And, yet, there was nothing about Poppy that even remotely hinted to the notion of rude.
“Hey,” I said, voice a little tight as I held out the plate. “I… um… I made these for you.”
“Wow, thank you! Chocolate chip are my favorite!” Poppy smiled, and accepted the cookies. “What’s the occasion?”
“Oh, no occasion.”
I nodded, awkward, fidgeting with the edge of the plate. “I, um, felt like I, um, needed to explain.”
“Explain?”
I nodded again. “Yeah… about last night. I—” I hesitated. My throat felt tight, but I pressed on. “I panicked. I didn’t mean to run off like I did. I’m afraid it might have seemed… rude.”
“I didn’t think it was rude at all. You were tired and wanted to get home. I understand that.”
“Well, it was… it was actually more than just that.” I took a deep breath. “I… I have to be careful when I sing. If I’m not careful, people can get hurt.”
Poppy tilted her head, listening, her expression patient and open, not the fear I’d expected to see. “Why would people get hurt if you sing?”
“Because I’m… a siren.”
She just continued to stand there, smiling up at me and I could tell by the expression on her face that she had no idea what it meant to be a siren. Jeez, she wasn’t going to make this conversation easy on me.
“Sirens have bewitching voices.”
“Bewitching as in—”
“As in I didn’t want to accidentally enthrall your party guests. And that was the main reason I had to leave. I just... I could have been nicer about it.” I cleared my throat. “So, I’m here with cookies, asking for your forgiveness.”
For a moment, the world narrowed to her face, her reaction.
And then she grinned, a little mischievous, a little enthusiastic.
“Forgive you? Marina, there’s nothing to forgive!
Honestly, I was mostly confused as to why you would want to leave when we were having fun.
Or I thought we were.” She paused. “But I’m glad you came to talk to me about it.
And I’m glad I better understand you now.
So thank you for that.” Then she glanced at the cookies.
“And cookies? Carbs are never a wrong way to go.”
I blinked, caught off guard by her warmth. Relief bubbled up inside me, soft and unexpected. “Then you’re not freaked out by what I just said?”
“Why would I be freaked out?”
“Well, my voice can be… dangerous.”
“But only when you’re singing right?”
I nodded. “Right.”
“So, we just won’t invite you to any more karaoke parties,” she answered with a laugh. “Problem solved.”
I let out a small laugh, the tension in my shoulders loosening.
“Now come on inside and let’s try one of these cookies because I’ve been eyeing them since you showed up with them.”
The shop was cozy and cluttered, smelling of herbs, wax, and oils. Shelves overflowed with all shapes and sizes of potions, alongside crystals, candles, and stacks of books.
Poppy crossed the length of her shop in a few short strides. “How does a siren differ from a mermaid?”
I shrugged, shoving my hands into my pockets. I couldn’t quite meet her eyes. She’d handled things well so far, but that didn’t mean she understood the ins and outs. She didn’t.
“You could call it a generational curse. I’m a throwback to an earlier time in our evolution. Predatory. Intensely magical. I can snare the human mind with just a few notes of my song. If I’m not careful with my voice, I can bespell an entire room of unsuspecting humans and monsters.”
“But it’s mostly your singing voice you have to worry about?”
“Right.”
“Hmm,” she said as she tapped her index finger against her mouth. “I think I might be able to help you.”
“Help me?” I repeated, frowning. There was no help for this condition. It just was.
“Yeah,” she started as she walked over to one of her shelves.
“Wanda and I helped Fifi with a… pheromone issue she had,” she explained.
“Her natural scent was overwhelming to mortal and monster guys, so she wanted to divorce herself from her succubus nature. Instead, we were able to contain it with a mild curse, combined with a suppression potion. It took a bit of coordination, but now it works beautifully.”
“So that means—”
“—that she can interact with humans and monsters alike without anyone jumping someone’s bones by accident.”
“You… suppressed her pheromones?” I asked, incredulous. “You just… controlled part of her?”
“Yes,” Poppy said, leaning forward eagerly, scanning through the titles of her potions.
I swore she was going to bob up and down on her toes like an excited kid.
“It’s careful work, but the key is to try to work within the parameters of your curse.
So you aren’t harming yourself and you can’t harm anyone else. That’s the key.”
“Hmm.”
She pulled her attention to me then, eyes sparkling. “Maybe we could do something for you, Marina. The reverse of what we did for Fifi. We could help you… contain the dangerous aspects of your song, while letting you use your voice in controlled ways.”
I swallowed, my heart racing even as I told myself there was a chance that she’d be able to help me. No one had ever been able to help this curse. “You mean… you think you have a way to fix my voice? To make it safe?”
Make me safe. Was it even possible? I didn’t want to get my hopes up, because the chances were that it wasn’t possible.
“In a manner of speaking,” Poppy said. “Fifi’s condition had to be contained with a potion to keep her pheromones under control.
Think of it as a curse that subdued her natural sexuality.
But your condition… well, it’s a curse already.
So we’ll need uncrossing potions, blessings, maybe a few other things from the coven.
But I think, with the right combination, we could come up with something that could very well work for you. ”
I stared at her, half intrigued, half terrified, hardly daring to hope.
Magic like this… this wasn’t just potions and rituals.
It was a manipulation of something deep, intrinsic, and dangerous.
And yet, the thought that maybe I wouldn’t have to hide my voice forever made a spark of hope flicker to life inside me.
Poppy’s grin widened. “What do you think? Want to experiment a little?”
I hesitated, my mind racing, weighing risk against the chance of freedom. And then… I nodded.
“Alright. Let’s see if it can be done.”
***
I chewed the inside of my cheek, staring down at the array of vials and charms that Wanda and Poppy had laid out on the counter.
They’d spent the better part of an hour sorting through everything on Poppy’s shelves, weighing pros and cons in what they kept referring to as a “ritual uncrossing”.
Some of the debates had actually gotten heated.
It was a shame I didn’t understand a word of what they were saying.
It was quickly getting to the point where only the ‘buts’ and ‘ands’ were the bulk of what I could understand.
“It sounds… promising,” Wanda finally admitted, flipping the long, dark sheet of her hair over one shoulder. “But how would we even test it? How would we know it actually works?”
“What do you mean?” Poppy asked.
“Well, if the siren’s voice is that alluring, is there any way to safely test whether or not the brew has the right effect?” Wanda answered.
Poppy tilted her head, thinking. “Well… we would have to test Marina’s song on someone who can handle it. Someone who wouldn’t get hurt if something went wrong or if something didn’t work.”
Wanda nodded, her fingers idly tracing a glass vial. “Yes. And… someone with a mind strong enough to be able to judge, objectively, whether the magic is working as intended.”
I frowned. “Meaning…?”
They both turned to face me, but it was Wanda who spoke first. “Is there anyone who can withstand your song? Anyone that your glamour doesn’t work on?”
“Mike,” I answered almost immediately.
“Who’s Mike?” Poppy asked.
Now there was a loaded question if I’d ever heard one.
Ten years ago I would have told them the truth—that Mike was my business partner, one half of a detective agency that specialized in the paranormal.
Five years ago, I would have clammed up and refused to speak his name.
Mike had heard my song and gone utterly mad.
It had been only a year since he’d recovered his sanity and returned to being the man I once knew.
And now? Now, I wasn’t sure what we were anymore, except partners.
“He’s a vampire. Ex-cop. Through a series of mishaps, he has the power of a demon in his head. Keeps the insanity of my song at bay. If anyone can tell you whether your potions and spells are effective, it would be him.”
“But if he’s immune to your voice, how would he know if our attempt is working or not?” Poppy asked.
“Well, it’s not that he’s immune,” I answered. “It’s more that he can feel the glamour, but the demon within him doesn’t allow him to be moved by it. Think of the demon as a wall that keeps him tethered.”
“Okay, then we should get him involved,” Wanda said, facing Poppy, who nodded.
I stiffened. My throat closed. “You want me to… what? Test your spell on him?”
“Not test it on him,” Wanda corrected gently. “Test you on him. Just to see if your song can be controlled through potions and spells, or at least… mitigated. He’d be able to give us honest feedback.”
“What if it somehow… backfires? What if your potions or spells have the opposite effect and they change him back to how he used to be? I would never forgive myself.”
Poppy reached across the counter, brushing a hand over mine. “I know it’s scary, Marina. I know it’s… personal. But if this works, it could change everything for you. No more worrying. No more hiding that side of you.”
I looked down at my hands, my fingers tight around the edge of the counter.
The thought of being that vulnerable… of risking someone else—even Mike—was terrifying.
And yet… the possibility of freedom, of control, of living without constant fear that my song was going to kill someone or make them lose their minds… well, the thought was a good one.
A really good one.