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October, eight years ago

“Hi, this isInspector Garrett Wade with the Politia. I’d like to ask you some questions regarding your father’s death …”

My hands begin to shake as I listen to the message. The Politia is looking into this? They’re like the supernatural version of the FBI. Only scarier.

There were supposed to be no questions. The authorities were supposed to stay away. The Bargainer had made sure of that.

That pretty little curse all you sirens have hanging over your heads might override even my magic.

I sit heavily on my bed and rub my temples, phone clutched in my hand. Rain pelts against my dorm room window, obscuring my view of Peel Castle, the castle-turned-academy where all my classes are held.

It’s only been five months since that fateful night.Five months. Too short to enjoy my freedom, but too long to ever appear innocent to the authorities again.

I missed my opportunity the moment I took the Bargainer up on his offer.

Peel Academy and the life I’ve made here could be taken from me. All in an instant.

I take a deep breath.

The way I see it, I have three options. One, I can run away and give up the life I’ve made for myself. Two, I can call the officer back, go in for questioning, and hope for the best.

Or three, I can contact the Bargainer and have him fix this. Only this time, I’d owe him a debt.

It’s an easy choice.

I push off my bed and head to my closet. I pull out a shoebox from the top shelf and open it up. The Bargainer’s black business card lay hidden under other odds and ends, the bronze lettering somewhat faded since the first time I held it.

Lifting it out of the box, I flip the card over and over in my hand. Seeing it brings that night back in all its gory detail.

Can’t believe it’s only been five months.

My life is so different now; I’ve worked hard to bury my past.

Where once I was weak, now I am powerful. A siren who can bend a person’s will—who can even break it if I so desire. That knowledge is a kind of armor that I put on every morning I wake up. It only comes off late at night when my memories get the better of me.

I run my thumb over the card. I don’t need to do this. I promised myself I wouldn’t contact him again. I got away with murder—literally—last time I met him. I won’t be that lucky twice.

But this is the best of three bad options.

So, for the second time in my life, I call the Bargainer.

Present

I freeze inthe doorway.

The Bargainer reclines against my headboard, looking for all the world like a predator. Sleek, caged power and dangerous eyes. He also appears far too comfortable in my bed.

Seven years. Seven long years have passed since he exited my life. And now here he is, lounging on my bed as though nearly a decade didn’t come between us. And I have no fucking clue how I’m supposed to react.

His eyes move over me lazily. “You’ve upgraded your lingerie since I last saw you.”

Jesus, talk about getting caught with your pants down.

I ignore the way his words cut into me. The last time he saw me I was a lovesick teenager, and he wanted nothing to do with me.

“Hello, Desmond Flynn,” I say, invoking his full name. I’m fairly certain I’m one of only a few people who know it, and that information makes him vulnerable. And right now, as I stand clad in nothing but my lingerie and come to grips with the fact thatthe Bargainer is in my room, I need him vulnerable.

He gives me a slow, smoldering smile that tightens my stomach even as it constricts my heart. “I didn’t realize you wanted to spill secrets tonight, Callypso Lillis,” he says.