Page 16

“I’m a siren, I’ve already told you. That table was my mother’s mahogany. My father made it with his own hands, a wedding present,” she said, picking up one of the broken legs. He took a step back, worried his question had made her second-guess her decision not to stake him.

“Don’t ignore the question,” he said, though he was sorry about the table. He might be able to fix it when she went to bed.

“I told you what I am.”

“But that’s not the whole story; you’re far too human in nature. Sirens lack empathy, they rejoice in the misery of others. Any other would have left me.”

“You don’t need to know my tale of woe. We need to dig up your past, not mine.”

“Then I’ll leave. I passed an inn in town that looked lovely.”

Aerin blocked the back door, her hand covering his on the handle. Suddenly, a rush of cold flushed through him, and he recalled a storm, being trapped in his coffin, shouting for help as the ship threw him from one side to the other as the pins that secured his coffin to the floor were ripped free.

“What the hell just happened to you?” Aerin gasped, pulling her hand away like she had been burned.

“I saw a storm, the night my ship sank. I was in my coffin below deck. Sinking below the water until nothing.” He stared at his hand and backed her up against the door. His eyes narrowed as she swallowed; she had felt something too. “What was that? What. Are. You? Am I not speaking English?” Gideon asked. “Do I have to ask in French? Latin? As Gaeilge?”

“I’ve never had anything like that happen before. It was like a jellyfish sting,” she said, resting her hand on his chest to push him away. He put his hand over hers, hoping for another vision, but there was nothing.

“I’ve changed my mind. You should take another bite,” she seethed, trying to take her hand from his.

“I’d rather not.” He held her hand, and she stopped struggling. “Your blood, your touch—what is it about you that forces my memories to the surface?”

“I’m a siren, but I was born human. Cliodhna, the daughter of a Sea God, is Queen of the Banshees; my death at sea stirred something in her because she turned me after I died at sea. That’s all you get for now. And I’m as cold-blooded as any other siren. My song can manipulate people, kill. My blood messed with your mind, and you just drank two bags of blood. Your recall has nothing to do with touching me. So, please keep your hands to yourself,” she countered, slipping away from him. “Sirens don’t have any memory-retrieving abilities. None that I’m aware of.”

“Good point. Forgive me for getting so close. It wasn’t very gentlemanly of me.” Gideon backed away, his desire to remember getting the better of him.

“You already used your second chance with me. Another attempt and you’ll be back in your coffin at the bottom of the big blue.”

“Heard loud and clear,” he promised, though not convinced. Maybe her song could bring back his past. He needed her to trust him if he wanted to get close.

“Just like that?” she asked suspiciously.

“I won’t touch you unless you ask.” He smirked, and she rolled her eyes.

“You don’t have to worry about that. Not going to happen. House rules: no bringing people back, and the basement is yours to do with as you please. Shared areas are free to use, but upstairs, my bedroom is off limits,” she instructed.

“I know not to go into a ladies’ room without permission,” he said. He had a better sense of propriety than she did.

“I don’t have anywhere else to go. I don’t even have shoes,” he added, trying to ease the tension. As much as he wanted answers, he didn’t want to make an enemy out of the person who saved him from an eternity at sea.

“Sorry, I didn’t know your size, and my brother’s shoes were too small for you.” Aerin chuckled, and it was the first time he’d seen her really smile.

“You’ve mentioned your brother before. Where is your family now?” he asked.

“They died during World War II. Their boat was sunk by a torpedo in 1944. You slept through that war; in fact, you’ve slept through quite a few,” she said.

A tense silence settled between them, and he didn’t know what to do or what polite society called for nowadays in this situation. If he stayed here, surely she’d need a chaperone. Maybe she had family, but so far she was as alone as he was.

“So, a siren. I didn’t think your kind were real, and I’ve been around a long time,” Gideon said, drinking the blood straight from the bag. “Are there many of you living here?”

“About twenty born sirens call Indigo Cove home, our humble small town, but there is only one like me, born human. This house has been in my family for generations, but it’s just me now.” Aerin didn’t expand, so he didn’t pry.

“Surely you’ve family or kin? It must be lonely living in this big house by yourself,” Gideon asked, looking at the decrepit house that seemed on the verge of collapsing into the sea at any moment. Home might be an exaggeration.

“Not all of us like to live in nests,” Aerin said, brushing past him to put the fish from the sink into what she called the fridge. Her cool tone told him he’d pinched a nerve.

“Sorry, I didn’t know it was a touchy subject.”