“Evan and I are Born fae. So we don’t really know what it’s like to feed for the first time not knowing what you are. But we have a friend who’s Made fae. You’ll like him and he can help walk you through the changes.”
“You’ll make sure I don’t ever do that again?” I ask, pointing to the pile of ash that was the man I just mauled. “I don’t want to hurt anyone. I don’t understand how this could even happen. How did I become this?”
Shaun takes my arm and guides me outside to the back of the bar and we walk alongside the alley towards the pavement. “Most Made fae are turned by other fae. But sirens can’t be made by other sirens.”
“It was a demon,” I say, matter-of-fact. There’s no doubt in my mind.
“A song wraith,” Shaun corrects.
“If a human survives their attack—which is super rare,” Evan explains, “—they turn into a siren. I’ve only ever read about sirens. I’ve never met one.”
My shoulders sag. And then I come to a halt, ripping my arm free from Shaun’s grip. “Why should I trust you?” I had trusted the song wraith, as they called it, and look how that turned out.
Evan and Shaun exchange glances. “We did save that woman from being your first kill,” Shaun says quickly. “You don’t have to trust us. You don’t have to come with us, but tell me, how would you feel if you came to and you’d slaughtered all your family and friends out of hunger?”
I open my mouth to speak, but there’s nothing to say. I close it, clenching my jaw.
“Come with us and you don’t have to worry about hurting anyone. You can feed off us without killing us. But humans? If you don’t learn how to control yourself and keep yourself well fed, you’re a danger. And I don’t think you want to be.”
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
BLISS
“This place looks good,”Dericia says as we stand outside a chill-looking bar and restaurant. “Should we eat here?” She turns from the menu posted out front and looks at the group.
“Sounds good to me,” Amelia says. “Tay, you good to eat here? Looks like they’ve got a real Bloody Mary,” she adds with a wink.
“Sure.” Taser’s voice is monotone, his gaze fixed down the sidewalk on a group walking towards us. “Let’s just go inside already.”
“I’ll go see if there’s a wait.” Reese bounces inside and chats with the hostess. She pops her head back out. “It’s self-seating.” She waves us inside, but the group Taser is watching comes to a stop in front of him.
Taser looks like a coiled snake of anger, his fists clenched at his sides.
I look over at the group and immediately recognize them due to my vast social media stalking of them. Three members of the Phantoms—a more classical metal rock band—look us over. I bite my lip as I notice the tallest one, Grim.
Do I have a little crush on him? No, definitely not.
It’s a huge crush.
Okay yeah, I’m fan-girling for sure.
There’s something about their shows that’s so immersive and engaging, probably due to the storytelling element. They also wear masks, but unlike Voracious Maw they’re not concerned about their identities being known. I dug deep into the backgrounds of the musicians out of boredom once, so I know them all by sight. It would be so much easier if the wraith wanted me to steal from one of them. At least I’d know where to start.
There’s Grim, one of the rhythm guitarists and backup vocalists. Pinkie, their lead guitarist, and Bell, the other rhythm guitarist.
Bell looks up at Taser through thick lashes and smiles softly at him. “It’s been a long time, Tay,” she says, reaching out and laying her hand on his forearm, her rich copper brown skin contrasting with his slight tan.
Dericia and I exchange looks at her husky voice, edged with a bit of wistfulness.
Taser shoves his hands in his jean pockets and looks away from her. “Yeah. Years.”
I honestly am not sure how he could look away from this woman. She’s gorgeous. Her hourglass figure is on full display with a see-through lace blouse layered over a low-cut button-up top. Heavy chain necklaces drop just between her breasts, moving as she breathes. Her leather pants are tight and accentuate her curves even more.
“It’s good to see you, man,” Grim says, offering his hand to Taser. He wears a genuine smile, flashing his full set of white teeth that brings out his golden tan skin even more. He has an easiness about him, his other hand hooked in the pocket of his black jeans. When it’s clear Taser won’t shake his hand, he sighs and runs his hand through his dark hair instead, scratching himself behind the ear. I definitely don’t let my eyes linger onthe soft short waves of his hair. “How have you been?” he asks, awkwardly.
Pinkie, the lead guitarist, stands at the back of the group, not looking at Taser. His light brown hair ends just below his shoulders and somewhat hides his face, but I can still make out light skin and deep brown eyes, and the glare that he’s currently directing at the sidewalk.
Dericia finally can’t take the awkwardness anymore and tugs Taser into the restaurant. The rest of us stand there, unsure of what to make of Taser’s reaction. We know he has a past with this band, but I never realized how strained their relationship is.
