Taylin slaps her hands together, making me jerk. “So, that just means we have to hurry, people,” she says with mock enthusiasm. “Anything else? Anything he mentioned about casting or breaking the spell?”
“You said there were guards,” I say. “Did they say or do anythingâ¦besidesâ¦killing you? Who were they?”
“Other students,” Luke says. “There were four of them, pretty powerful physically, not so much magically.”
“Yeah,” Matt says as if remembering something. “When I was lying there waiting to bleed out,” my muscles clench at his description, “I remember Maximillian saying something to them as he sliced his own wrists to add his blood to the spell, binding the spell to us in a way death couldn't shake.”
“I was in too much shock to hear much,” Taylin says quietly, her normal bravado gone. Her eyes focus somewhere far away, like she might be reliving the nightmare. “I think I saw Morgan hiding behind the door.”
“Morgan?” Carly asks.
“Maximillian and Deidre's daughter,” Matt says and looks at me. “She was quiet, but I think she could sing, too, just like her mother. I heard her once.”
“Maximillian was ordering the guards to take Morgan away, guard her forever because his blood ran in her veins. As if that made her vulnerable.”
“Maybe,” I say slowly, “if she died and Maximillian's last blood relation or blood link to life was gone, the curse would be gone, too? So, there could be two ways to break the curse. One way, the way Maximillian wants you to break it, is by killing your Siren, but what if we could break the spell by finding Maximillian's blood relatives and getting them to reverse it?”
“We sort of thought she might be able to help us,” Luke says. “When we were old enough to figure that out, we went looking for her. But she'd vanished, along with her guards.”
“Well, what if we try to find out what happened to
Morgan,” I suggest, “and follow her bloodline to the present day?”
“First,” Taylin says as if she's about to pooh-pooh my idea, “we tried to find Morgan, no luck. Second, even if we
did
trace Maximillian's blood, who says his relative would even help us? Whoever has his blood is probably just as vile as he was.”
“Not necessarily,” Matt points out. “Deidre's blood would be in the mix, and she was an angel.”
“I don't remember Morgan as being evil,” Luke says.
“So, let's start looking.” Carly unfolds her laptop. “What was Morgan's last name?”
A look passes between the three. “Maximillian had several last names,” Matt says. “We're not entirely sure which one was real.”
Carly pushes the notebook closer to him. “Write down all the ones you can remember, and where in Paris you lived with them back then.”
I lean back against the counter, my gaze roaming across the muscles tensing in Luke's back and arms. Is he in pain right now, just being close to me? The thought turns my stomach and opens my mouth.
“There is also the obvious way to break the curse, at least for Luke.” All eyes turn toward me. “I'm not crazy. Think about it, though.” I look at Luke. “What if all you have to do is spill,” I use air quotes, “âa small bit of my blood' to break the curse.”
I turn to Taylin. “And I don't think you're selfish enough to make your brother continue to endure this for eternity because you don't want to be alone.” Taylin clamps her lips tight, her eyes glancing off toward a point on the wall. No one says anything so I keep going, giving vent to some of my whirling thoughts.
“My dad works at Gentec. They make fake blood there. From what he used to talk about, they're making fake blood that mimics a person's real blood, with that person's genetic markers and stuff.” I realize my hands are moving in the air as I try to explain. “What if we got some of that to look like my blood? Maybe Taylin could put a spell on it to make it look like my blood. And then Luke can spill it.” I shrug, my eyes wide. “Maybe you three have finally lived to an era where technology can help you.”
No one says anything. “It would give us something else to do while Carly starts looking for,” I glance at the paper and snort, “Morgan Black, Morgan Watts, or Morgan Whitehall from the eighteenth century.”
Carly sighs as she looks back to her computer and starts typing. “This will be like hunting for a needle in a haystackâ blind.”
“How do we get into Gentec?” Luke asks.
I grab the hydrogen peroxide out of the cabinet and drop a sewing needle from the junk drawer into a capful. “First let's try this.” I hold out the pin to Luke.
After a long moment he takes it. Matt and Taylin jump up, their eyes wide.
“Do you think it's this simple?” Matt asks.
“Where should he stick her?” Taylin says at the same time. Apparently she's hopped on board with helping her brother.
“Well,” Luke eyes my frame up and down, “if she's the dragon, I vote for piercing her thigh instead of her eye.” A small grin plays along his gorgeous lips.
For half a heartbeat I worry that if we break the spell he won't love me anymore. What if he decides to try out loving another girl? I almost shake my head, but just close my eyes for a long second. How could I even worry about it? If there's a way to break this horrible curse, we do it.
Carly giggles as she types. “I vote thigh, too.”
I hike up my jean skirt on one side, exposing my thigh. Thank goodness I shaved all the way up this morning. “It should be enough to make my blood fall on the floor.”
Luke frowns. “That could hurt.”
“It's better than being slit open,” I try to joke, but it comes out a little breathy as my pulse races. I don't like pain, no matter how small.
“Actually,” Carly says turning to look at my leg, “a slice from a razor or really sharp knife would hurt less, probably, and cause more blood to flow.”
“Or shattered glass,” I say and Carly nods, remembering. “I didn't even feel that cut.” I retrieve one of Mom's gourmet knives. I hand it, handle first, to Luke. “Not too deep.” Watching him unsheathe the knife makes my fightor-flight-instinct scream a battle cry inside me.
Luke rests his warm hand on my leg. It's the farthest up my leg he's ever touched, making a swarm of blushing heat cover the skin on my neck. Luckily, everyone is looking at my leg, everyone except Luke.
Calm. Steady. He smiles at me, showing straight white teeth. “I'll be very careful.”
“Remember, you're ten times as strong as you usually are,” Carly warns, and then pops up from her seat. “I'd better get medical stuff.”
“Make that fifty times as strong,” Luke corrects, “but I'll be careful.” He searches my eyes. “The thought of hurting you makes my stomach feel full of nettle cookies.”
“Hey!” Taylin says. “It was the curse that made you puke, not the cookies.”
His little joke and the smile on his face calms me. He's in control. I swallow hard and concentrate on the gentle waves of hair covering Luke's bent head as he studies my thigh.
“Don't hit the femoral artery,” Carly calls from the bathroom.
“No arteries,” I exhale and then clamp my lips shut. No sighs, moans, wails, groans, nothing to make Luke go berserk with an eight-inch blade in his hand.
“Dear God,” Taylin prays. That'sâ¦interesting, “let this Siren's blood break the curse that binds Lucas in everlasting torture. Grant him grace for practicing magic that is rightfully yours.” She crosses herself. “In the name of Jesus our Lord and savior.”
Luke glances at her and murmurs “Amen.”
She nods. He slices.
13
“The best answer to anger is silence.”
~Author Unknown
I suck in a breath and squeeze my eyes shut. I hear the knife clatter against the hardwood floor and someone grab for it. Someone squeezes my leg and tilts it. “Okay, that hurts,” I say and blink my eyes open. Taylin's fingers pinch along the red line that swells with my blood.
“Careful,” Luke says and pushes Taylin's hands away. “I'd better be the one to do it, anyway.” Luke looks straight at me. “Sorry.”
I smile tightly like someone being brave. Inside, my stomach twists. He bends over and squeezes, more gentle than Taylin. Blood flows freely now, and several drops dot the oak floor. Everyone holds their breath. When a pool about the size of a quarter lies in a miniature, thick, red pond, he stops. Taylin and Matt look at Luke.
“Any difference?” Matt asks.
Taylin squints at Luke. “You look the same. Hell.” She sighs. “Nothing happened.”
Luke puts pressure on the slice. Carly hands him a wad of gauze doused with peroxide. “I'm sorry,” I whisper.
He kisses my knee. “No, I'm sorry, Jule.”
“Would you be willing to let him pierce your eye?” Taylin asks with what I hope is mock sincerity.
“Uh, I think I'd rather die first,” I say.
“O-okay,” Carly draws out. “I'll just continue with plan B, then. Let's find out what happened to Morgan.”
“And let's think about getting a larger quantity of my blood,” I say. “At my dad's lab.”
“How?” Taylin asks.
“Well,” I list our assets in my mind, “I'll need someone who can open locks to go with me.”
“Not Luke,” Matt says, looking at his brother. “Just in case, you should stay away from her as much as possible.”
“Luke can teach me how to open complex locks,” Taylin says. Luke frowns, but doesn't object.
“I thought you opened Jule's locker?” Carly asks.
“That's simple,” Taylin says. “Luke's got a thing for opening any kind of lock, and I'm imagining that your dad has some heavy-duty techno locks at his lab.”
“I'll ask my dad to take us on a tour for a science paper,” I say.
“I'll go, too,” Carly chimes in. “Matt should stay with Luke.”
Luke catches my hand as he stands up. I let my skirt fall back over my bandaged thigh.
“I'll talk to Dad tonight about it.”
Luke nods. “So this meeting is over.” He pulls me gently along behind him as he walks out of the kitchen back to the living room and out onto the front wrap-around porch. The late afternoon sun is slipping down the sky toward twilight. He stops by the lilac tree, its blooms beginning to fade. He turns to me, wrapping me in toward his chest. I step up to him and he buries his nose into my hair and inhales. “That's better.”
I look up into his face. “Better?”
“The smell of your blood in there.” He shakes his head. “It just brings back nightmares I'd rather not remember.”
“Premonitions.”
“No,” he says quickly. “Just nightmares that I will never let happen.”
I watch his hands grip into fists. I grasp one and work the tight fingers open. “Do you realize you do this a lot? You're struggling all the time, aren't you?”
He forces his hands open wide. “I can handle it.”
I huff out a small breath. “It's a blood curse made by a crazy, but amazingly powerful, evil wizard. I don't think⦠you can just
handle
it.”
Luke runs his fingers through his thick mop of dark hair. “I will. I have to. Orâ¦I'll make Matt kill me.”
My stomach punches in on itself at his words. I breathe again when I realize the obvious problem with that plan. “You're too strong now, even for Matt.”
“I can still die like a normal person, Jule. A slice from a blade, a shot from a gun. I just can't kill myself.”
“Don't talk like that.”
Luke runs his warm hands down my upper arms. “We're nowhere near that desperate. We'll figure it out. It's the closest we've been in two hundred years, thanks to you. And when this is solved and we're just a normal guy and his girl, you'll be bored.” He hugs me into his chest. “You'll spend your days talking to Carly about what you're going to wear to prom to make my eyes fall out of my head. Although even a bed sheet would do that.”
“That is, if you ask me to prom,” I whisper against his chest so softly I can barely even hear it. I forget that Luke's ears are overly attuned to my voice.
He looks down. His eyes narrow as he inspects my face. “I've found that things whispered are much more important than anything shouted.” He dips his face closer to mine to catch my eye. “You don't think I'll ask you to prom?”
“It's really ridiculous even talking about something as trivial as prom.”
“I've lived eleven times the amount you've lived,” he grins, but concern lurks in his eyes. “Your whisper isn't about some dance with balloons and gaudy decorations.” He kisses the top of my head.
I turn out of his arms and walk across the porch to pick a hanging clump of drying flowers off the lilac tree. “If we break the curse, and assuming I'm not deadâ”
“
When
we break the curse, and you will
not
be dead,” he corrects, and follows me with his gaze as he leans against a column.
“Well,” I tilt my head down and sniff the sweet fragrance, “you might not be in love with me anymore. Because all this,” I indicate him and me with a wave of the lilac bunch, “is caused by the curse, right?” I look down at the glossy wooden floor planks. “At least for you.” Even though my voice is casual, I hold my breath, waiting for his response.
I hear him move. I feel the air shift as he gets close. My eyes shut as I wait. Luke's fingers thread through the hair at my temple. “Open your eyes, Jule.” I obey and blink up at him.
“It's true,” I say. “Once the curse is broken, you won't be tied to me in any way.”
A grin breaks across his serious features. “Not tied to you?” He huffs a little laugh. “Jule, I've been dreaming about you for eleven lifetimes, savoring every glimpse I had of you, drawing your form, your eyes.” He traces my eyebrow with his thumb and runs it down to the tip of my nose. “The gentle slope of your nose.” His thumb touches my parted lips. “Your soft mouth. I've dreamt of each part of you, loved each part of you and nowâ¦now I finally get to hear you speak, find out what is behind those golden brown eyes, what makes you laugh and smile, what is in your heart and what makes you look sad sometimes. I get to start discovering all of thatâ¦and I hope to continue over a whole long lifetime.”