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Like each time I hear it, my mind just lets go. I don’t feel any stress—no worry at all, actually. It’s such a wonderful break from the very real stressors I live with all the time now that I happily give in and let my shoulders fall, listening raptly.
I think there are lyrics. Maybe. I can’t hear them clearly, but it sounds like a voice singing something along with the gorgeous music.
Someone touches my shoulder, and I turn to find Xander frowning down at me.
“I’m sorry, what?”
“You didn’t hear me?”
“No. Were you calling for me?”
“I was yelling as loudly as I could from the house, then all the way down the shoreline as I made my way to you. You couldn’t have not heard me.”
“How weird.” The nausea sets in again, and I have to clamp my hand over my mouth. “Ugh, I don’t feel so hot.”
“Come on.” His face is set in grim lines as he takes the basket from me, holds his other hand out for mine, then begins leading me back to the cottage. “We need to talk about this, Lorelei.”
“Talk about what? The nausea? I was thinking it’s probably some kind of weird vertigo or something. Did you hear the music?” I’m sad it’s gone. “It’s so pretty. I wish I knew who’s playing it. They’re so talented.”
“That’s what we need to talk about.”
“What?”
“The music. You’re the only one who can hear it, baby.”
I scoff at that and shake my head. “No, you’re just flying too high to hear it. I have to hurry back.”
I pick up the pace, practically running back to the cottage. When I finally reach the door, I fling it open and rush for the bathroom.
This time, I lose my breakfast.
Thank the goddess I was able to make it to the toilet.
I can feel Xander lay a cold, wet rag on my neck after he picks up my hair and holds it away from my face.
This is like déjà vu. He did this for me all the time when I had morning sickness.
“Sorry,” I mutter, then reach back to grab the washcloth, using it to wipe my mouth. “That’s so gross.”
“I’m just sorry it’s happening to you.”
Xander stands behind me at the sink as if I might fall over at any minute, waiting while I rinse my mouth, brush my teeth, and then rinse again.
With the nausea passing, I turn and step into Xander’s arms, hugging him tightly around his torso.
“How do you feel now?”
“Better. It’s only ever bad when I’m out near the water. Today was the worst. I need to be by the water, Xander. I’m a freaking sea witch.”
“I know.” He kisses the top of my head. “I know you are. We’ll figure this out.”
“Maybe I should go to the doctor.”
“I don’t think it’s medical, but you could have Jonas take a peek.”
I frown at him as we walk down the hall to the living room, where I collapse onto the couch. “If it’s not medical, then what is it? Because it feels pretty medical to me.”
“I think it is using a siren’s song to fuck with you.”
I immediately scoff at that. “Oh, please. I mean, I believe in mermaids and stuff, but even I don’t believe in sirens.”
“You don’t have to believe in them. I’m telling you, I think he’s using the song of one to hurt you. To hypnotize you.”
“I’m not hypnotized.” I don’t know why I feel so defensive about this, but I do. “I have an inner ear infection or something. I’ll see Jonas about it, he’ll have Lucy whip me up some kind of herbal concoction, and I’ll be as good as new.”
Xander doesn’t look convinced, so I cover my eyes with my arm and take a deep breath.
“I know there’s a lot of scary shit going on, but I think you’re getting a little dramatic with this.”
“Why are you being so stubborn about this?”
“Because the music is amazing, and I actually like it, and not much is going on in my life at this exact moment that I like a lot. I mean, besides you. So why can’t I just enjoy it?”
“Because it’s not real.” Xander moves to kneel next to me and frames my face in his hands. “And because it’s trying to hurt you with it. It’s dangerous, Lora.”
“I’ll have Jonas look me over,” I promise and cover his hand with mine. I hate seeing the fear and worry in his dark eyes. “Trust me, it’ll be okay.”
“I trust you.” His voice is rough now. “But I don’t trust it. And I’m telling you, it’s fucking with you.”
“Okay.” I know he’s wrong, but he’s so worried, I don’t want to argue with him. “Okay, we’re going to figure this out. I’m sorry it has you so worried.”
“I’ve been worried for more than a year.” He sighs and rubs his forehead with his fingers. “I have an entire coven to worry about—a group of people who depend on me. What if it slips past me and gets to them?”
