Lullaby (16 page)

“Harper.” Daniel sighed, frustrated. “We need to talk. It’s about Gemma.”

Her eyes shot up then, and she finally met his gaze. His face was solemn, but there was something hopeful in his eyes, like he might have good news. But really, almost any news about Gemma would be good at this point.

“What about her?” Harper asked. “Have you heard from her?”

“Not exactly.” He reached behind his back and grabbed a rolled-up copy of
USA Today
that he’d jammed into his back pocket. “But you should take a look at this.”

“What?” She dropped the books she’d been holding on top of the bookshelf and snatched the paper from him before he could explain further.

The cover story was about some politician being caught in a tawdry affair with a celebrity, and the smaller features on the bottom half were about the economy and how people were planning to spend Independence Day this upcoming weekend.

“What does this have to do with Gemma?” Harper demanded.

“It’s not—here, just give it to me.”

Daniel took the paper from her and laid it out on top of the bookshelf. He opened it to the third page and smoothed out the crinkles as best he could before pointing to a small column on the side of the page.

“Boys Don’t Die” was the headline, with a subhead reading “Why the Media Doesn’t Care When Boys Are Killed.”

“This is about sexism in the media?” Harper scoffed, and looked at Daniel.

“Will you just keep reading?” Daniel asked.

She stared at him uncertainly before turning her attention back to the paper. As soon as she started reading, she saw the connection, but didn’t completely understand how it would help find Gemma.

The reporter had picked up on the dead boys in Capri and wrote a little about the brutal murders of four teenage boys. But the story wasn’t about the murders so much as why nobody was covering them.

Even Harper had to agree that the story had been largely ignored. Other than a few local reporters, she hadn’t seen much in the way of media. Which seemed odd, especially since they were labeling it as the work of a serial killer.

The article went on to name several high-profile murder cases that all involved beautiful young women, then speculated why this case, which consisted of multiple murders, garnered so little attention. The writer of the article clearly thought there was some kind of gender bias involved.

Harper was just about to ask Daniel why he wanted her to read this when she realized the answer was in the last few paragraphs.

The murders no longer appear isolated in Maryland. Just yesterday, in a small seaside community 45 minutes south of Myrtle Beach, a young man was found murdered in much the same fashion as the previous victims in Capri.

Thirty-three-year-old Jason Way was found with his chest cavity ripped open in an alleyway outside a busy restaurant. Despite the heinous nature of the crime, no witnesses have come forward as having heard or seen anything.

With this fifth murder of a young man, perhaps the media will start giving these serial killings the coverage they deserve. So far, however, that seems unlikely. Local authorities in South Carolina are hesitant to connect this murder with the previous ones in Maryland.

Jason Way also has a long history of domestic violence, sexual harassment, and a rape conviction, so retribution from previous victims hasn’t been ruled out, a representative for the police force has said.

For now, mothers need to watch out for their sons, because it seems that nobody else is going to.

“Oh, my gosh,” Harper said, exhaling shakily after she finished reading. “That’s them, isn’t it? This has to be the sirens.”

Daniel nodded. “I think so. I mean, that guy sounds like he might have been a douche, so it could be some kind of copycat killing. But it’s worth checking out, at least.”

“When is this paper from?” Harper flipped to the front with shaking hands to check the date.

“It’s from today,” Daniel answered.

“So that guy, he was really killed yesterday?” Harper pushed her bangs back from her forehead and tried to think, but her mind was racing too fast. “They might still be there. Gemma might be there. How far away is it?”

“Myrtle Beach is about a ten-and-a-half-hour drive from here,” Daniel said. “So a little over eleven hours, if we hurry.”

“Do you know what town that was?” Harper looked back at the paper, scanning the article to see if it had named the exact town where the body had been found.

“I Googled it on my phone before I came here,” Daniel said. “It’s right on the coast. We should have no problem finding it.”

“Good.” Harper nodded, then she realized what he had said. “You’re coming with?”

“Well, duh,” Daniel said, like it should be obvious. “I saw what those sirens are capable of. There’s no way I’m letting you go up against them alone.”

She wanted to argue with him, but he had a point. She needed all the help she could get if she wanted to rescue Gemma.

She smiled gratefully at him, but that was all she had time for. They needed to hurry if they wanted to catch the sirens before they moved on.

“I’m taking off, Marcy,” Harper said as she walked toward the front door.

“Wait!” Marcy stood up, and when Harper turned back to her, she saw Marcy holding her purse outstretched toward her. “You probably need your car keys and stuff.”

Harper ran back and grabbed her purse. “Thanks, Marce. And sorry about earlier.”

“Don’t sweat it.” Marcy shrugged it off. “Just go get her. And be careful.”

NINETEEN

Warning

Gemma hated how good she felt when she woke up. The effects of feeding yesterday hadn’t worn off. If anything, they’d only grown stronger. Her body was like liquid. Every movement she made was smooth and fluid, and she felt like she was gliding everywhere she went.

When she got out of bed, she actually danced around the room, unable to help herself. And while she’d never had any formal training of any kind, she moved like a ballet dancer. As if elegance had suddenly become part of her DNA.

She didn’t have to look in the mirror to know that she was glowing. She could feel it. Her skin was positively luminous.

And despite her best efforts to feel guilty and mourn the loss of the man she’d murdered yesterday, her sirenness was at full blast, and happiness radiated through her.

The sadness was still there, because she had done something absolutely horrific and could never forgive herself for it. But it was buried down deep inside her, hidden with the rest of her negative emotions that the new siren powers didn’t want her to feel.

She went down the stairs two steps at a time, simply because she felt like it, and nearly bumped into Sawyer, who was standing at the bottom.

“Good morning, Gemma,” he said, sounding even more dazed than usual. He looked almost awed by her beauty, and Gemma felt a sharp pang of self-loathing that she had that effect on him. Or any guy, for that matter.

“Morning,” she replied, smiling at him anyway.

She was pleased to find that the insatiable lust she’d been feeling for him had disappeared. Sure, she still thought Sawyer was attractive, but she had absolutely no urge to jump him.

“Do you need anything?” Sawyer asked, following her into the kitchen.

“Dear God, Sawyer, stop drooling on the poor girl,” Penn said with an exaggerated eye roll. “She doesn’t need to deal with you acting like a dog in heat first thing in the morning.”

Penn was sitting on a stool at the kitchen island. A trashy magazine was spread out before her, showcasing the best and worst beach bodies, and a half-empty glass of orange juice sat next to it.

“Sorry.” Sawyer stared down at his feet, looking ashamed.

“I see you slept well,” Penn said, turning her attention to Gemma as she languidly flipped the pages in the magazine.

“I slept fine,” Gemma replied noncommittally, and opened the fridge. There wasn’t much in the way of food, but she grabbed an apple, then shut the door.

“Well, you look radiant,” Penn said without looking at her. “Being a siren obviously suits you.”

Gemma leaned against the fridge and bit into the apple, ignoring its unpleasant taste, because she didn’t know how else to respond. That was obviously some kind of compliment, but Gemma really didn’t want to take it that way. She still didn’t want to be a siren.

The house was suddenly filled with the sounds of music as Lexi turned on a stereo in another room. Adele came wafting out, and Lexi joined in, somehow managing to sound even lovelier than Adele when she sang.

Sawyer had still been staring down in shame, but as soon as Lexi started singing, he turned toward her. He even started walking toward her, moving slowly, like he was drawn to her song.

“Shut the hell up, Lexi!” Penn shouted, with an unsettling undercurrent to her normally sweet voice. When she was angry, she had a monstrous tone that she couldn’t seem to control, sounding like some awful creature from a horror movie. “Nobody wants to hear you squawking!”

“Ugh!” Lexi groaned loudly, and the music fell silent. Not just Lexi, but the stereo that played along with it. “I’m going out for a swim since you’re being a killjoy!”

“Can I go swim, too?” Sawyer asked, looking over at Penn.

“Did you get all the blood out of the convertible last night?” Penn asked, still staring down at the glossy pages in front of her.

“Um, no?” He furrowed his brow as he thought now. “No. You told me not to worry about it and just to come to bed with you.”

“Well, you’re up now.” She smiled thinly at him, not even attempting to hide her contempt. “Go clean out the car.”

“Sure, yeah, of course.” He nodded quickly, then left the kitchen to do her bidding.

“So how did it feel?” Penn asked, resting her hand on her chin as she flipped a page.

Gemma swallowed the bite of apple in her mouth before answering her. “What?”

“Taking a human life.” Penn kept her head tilted down, as if she were still examining the beach bodies, but she lifted her eyes to meet Gemma’s. Penn’s were black as usual, but they were dancing at the thought of murder.

Gemma forced herself to take another bite, even though she felt nauseated at the talk of murder, and she refused to answer Penn’s question.

“You really are one of us now,” Penn went on, smiling as she spoke. “You’re a monster now. Just like me and Lexi and Thea. You’ve had a taste of the human heart, and you won’t be able to stop yourself.”

“I’ll never be like you.” Gemma shook her head and stared down at the apple in her hands. “I made a mistake last night, but I’ll never let myself be out of control like that again. I’ll never be a monster.”

Penn laughed. “You said you’d never kill anyone in the first place. These little moral compromises you keep making with yourself. You’ll find that eventually morality will mean nothing to you. We chose you for a reason.”

“You chose me because you were running out of options,” Gemma pointed out. “Thea told me that I was your last chance.”

“You were my first choice, though,” Penn said, but her smile had faltered. “Do you know why I wanted you?”

Gemma toyed with the fruit in her hands, not wanting to admit to Penn that she didn’t really know, and she actually wanted to.

“I saw the evil in you,” Penn said.

“That’s not true.” Gemma shook her head. “I’m not … There’s no evil in me. Or at least there wasn’t before I became a siren.”

“Whatever you say.” Penn threw up her hands as if it were of no concern to her. “You’re not evil. You killed that man last night out of the goodness of your heart.”

Gemma tossed the half-eaten apple in the garbage can. “I’m not hungry.”

“Oh, hey, Gemma,” Penn said as Gemma was about to leave the kitchen. She paused in the doorway and glanced back over her shoulder at Penn. “I heard about your little rendezvous with Sawyer yesterday.”

When Gemma didn’t say anything, Penn turned to look back at her.

“He told me,” Penn explained, as if Gemma had asked how she had found out. “He has no secrets from me. He can’t have secrets.”

“That’s the basis for a really healthy relationship,” Gemma said dryly.

“He’s an attractive guy, isn’t he?” Penn went on as if Gemma hadn’t said anything. “He’s downright gorgeous. He’d have to be, right? Otherwise you wouldn’t have cheated on your beloved Alex.”

Gemma chewed the inside of her cheek and looked away from Penn. “Yep. He’s a very foxy guy. You’re one lucky lady, Penn.”

“You know luck has nothing to do with it,” Penn said, and slipped off the stool. “I make my own luck. I create my own destiny.”

She walked over to Gemma and stood right in front of her, but Gemma refused to look at her. She just stared down at Penn’s pedicured toes.

“If you ever want to join Sawyer and me, I understand,” Penn said, her voice turning low and sultry. “As a siren, you have all sorts of new urges, and they’re hard to contain. Sawyer would be happy to show you how to handle them, as long as I’m there to guide you.”

“What?” Gemma wrinkled her nose in disgust when she realized what Penn was talking about. “That’s a really weird offer, and also gross. Seriously. Ew, no.”

“You’re a prude now, and I don’t care,” Penn said, waving it off. “But the point is that if you ever touch Sawyer again when I’m not around, I’ll rip off your filthy little hands.”

Gemma looked up at her then, and saw that, though Penn had kept her tone sexy and almost cheerful, her eyes had shifted. They were no longer her usual black eyes but the odd yellow eyes of an eagle.

“You can’t have what isn’t yours,” Penn said, and Gemma could hear the monster under her words, the beast inside her growling. “Don’t touch things without my permission.”

Before, Gemma would’ve been afraid of this, and part of her knew she should be intimidated by Penn. She’d killed her own sister, so she would obviously think nothing of tearing off Gemma’s head. But Gemma didn’t care anymore. If she was going to live with Penn forever, she wasn’t going to kowtow to her. She’d rather end up dead than as Penn’s slave.

“Sawyer’s not yours, and he’s not a thing,” Gemma said. “Just because you have a spell over him doesn’t mean he’s not still a human being with feelings and thoughts of his own. You just won’t let him use them.”