Page 31 of Bewitched By the Siren (The Bewitching Hour #1)

CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

Brendan

When I drove home and walked into my condo late last night, it felt like a stranger’s home. Though I recognized all of my personal stuff, it felt it didn’t belong to me. It didn’t belong to the me I’ve become after my time on Circe Key. With Hali.

Who’s a fucking mermaid .

I still can’t wrap my head around it today, so I do the only thing I can think of––research.

I pull out my laptop and type “mermaids and sirens” into the search bar.

The number of websites that pop up is overwhelming, so I get up and make a cup of coffee before sitting back down and scrolling through the list.

Clicking one site after another, I read about all the myths and legends.

I watch videos of supposed sightings, and not one of them is as clear or concrete as what I saw on the beach yesterday.

I keep at it all morning and late into the afternoon, only pausing to order some food when my stomach starts grumbling.

As I delve deeper and deeper into the folklore, I find a passage that freezes me in my seat.

It talks about the magic of the siren’s song. How it compels people and draws them in. Controls them and turns them into slaves, willing to drown in the depths of the ocean with no fear and no regret.

A shiver rushes through me as memories of my time on Circe Key trickle through my mind. How I felt when I heard Hali sing at the bar. How I automatically put my phone away the moment she commanded it from up there on that stage.

“Holy shit,” I breathe, then continue reading aloud, “Some myths indicate that the siren’s song can be muted, the power cut off by a token or object spelled by a witch. If the siren wears this token, the magic is leached from his or her voice, leaving it powerless.”

The image of Hali’s shell necklace materializes in my mind. She took it off when she sang in Natasha’s recording studio. And I can’t remember, exactly, but I don’t think she had it on the two times I saw her perform the bar. I don’t remember it laying against her chest as she sang.

And–– fuck ––I remember her taking it off during our conversation last Sunday morning.

I was following her, determined to insert myself into her life so I’d have the opportunity to change her mind about signing with me.

But when she took off that necklace and told me to go home, I felt like I had no choice but to obey.

And I remember feeling confused when I got back to the rental.

I couldn’t understand why I’d just given up like that.

And now I’m sure I know why.

Shit.

This is all just so…unbelievable.

Closing the computer, I rub my fingertips against the ache throbbing in my temples.

Aspirin hasn’t done a thing to ease the headache I’ve been dealing with all morning.

Maybe I can sleep it off. I had a restless night, so I’m exhausted.

I head into my room, close the blackout curtains over my window, and collapse into bed.

My thoughts start to swirl, keeping me awake in the same way they did last night. I picture the time I spent with Hali––the conversation, the laughs, the lovemaking. Was any of it even real?

It had to be, right? I mean, the only time I saw her take that necklace off was onstage, in Natasha’s studio, and that one time she ordered me to stop following her.

I can picture the shell resting against her chest as we talked and laughed.

I remember the way it dangled between us when she hovered over me.

My lips kissing a path around it as I tasted her skin.

I heave a sigh. Just because she wasn’t using her magic against me doesn’t make it real. She could’ve been toying with me the whole time.

But that doesn’t feel right, either. I don’t think she was toying with me, at all.

She fought me at every turn until I won her over.

She was hesitant and guarded. And while I got her to let her guard down with me, she obviously kept at least one wall up between us. The one that hid the truth about her.

And how could I actually expect her to be honest about that ? She met me a week ago. I can’t blame her for keeping her true self hidden. It’s about safety and survival for her.

But putting aside the lies and deception, completely, one thing still holds true––Hali Weston isn’t human. Not a hundred percent of the time, anyway.

And that’s the one thing I don’t know if I’ll be able to get past.

I must’ve dozed off, finally, because the next thing I know, the alarm on my phone is buzzing. Picking it up, I tap the screen to turn off the alarm as I huff out a harsh breath. It’s Monday, which means––

Right on cue, my phone vibrates with an incoming text.

Julius: I know you’re back in town. I expect to see you in my office at 9am, sharp. I hope you have something good for me.

“Shit,” I grunt, rolling over to bury my head in my pillow.

I have exactly nothing for Julius, and he’s not going to be happy about it.

Might as well get this over with.

Rolling out of bed, I shower, shave, and dress in my sharpest suit. After I brush my teeth and style my hair, I check the time. I have a few minutes to kill, so I drive to my favorite coffeehouse near the beach for a latte and a bagel.

When I get out of the car, I inhale the salty sea air and frown. It doesn’t smell right. And the air is too dry. The wind, too warm. The water is too blue. I grab my order to-go so I can get away from the negative feelings as quickly as possible.

I pull into the lot at the Bray Agency and park fifteen minutes before my scheduled meeting with Julius. I stare at the building as I sip my coffee, the bagel still untouched in the passenger seat.

I can’t eat. I feel sick, like nothing in my life is right. Like being here, in Los Angeles, my home , is all wrong.

Setting the coffee in my cupholder, I rub my eyes with the heels of my hands. I’ve got to snap out of this. I’ve got to get back to normal. To my real life.

When I reach his office, Julius’ assistant meets my gaze with worried eyes and says, “He’s waiting for you. Go on in.”

“Thank you,” I murmur, then steel my spine and swing open the door.

Striding inside, I close the door behind me firmly and turn to face the music. Or, more accurately, the lack thereof.

“I don’t have anything for you,” I say without preamble as I walk toward his desk and take a seat in one of the two chairs before it.

“What do you mean, you don’t have anything for me?” he says, his voice low and thick.

“She doesn’t want to sign with anyone,” I say, stressing the last word. “There was no point in trying to sneak a recording when there’s no chance we’ll convince her.”

“That decision wasn’t yours to make, Howser. Just because you couldn’t manage to close the deal didn’t mean someone else couldn’t. You’ve wasted my time and resources. They’ll be coming out of your paycheck, as well as the cost of me sending another agent down to get what I asked for.”

“You should just save your money. I spent all week with her. She has valid reasons for not wanting to be famous. She isn’t going to sign.”

“Then I’ll go myself,” he says. “I’ll make her an offer she can’t refuse.”

“You’re not hearing me,” I say before thinking, and he shoots me a stern look.

“And you’re not hearing me,” he growls. “I sent you to do a job, and you failed. Failure wasn’t an option, and you did it, anyway. You’ll be scrounging around the beach bars looking for local talent from now on.”

“No, I won’t.”

I say the words before my brain has a chance to censure my tone, and Julius’s eyes widen before narrowing again. He opens his mouth, no doubt to berate me for being insubordinate, but I hold up a palm to stop him before he utters even a word.

“Save it,” I say. “I quit.”

My chest hollows out with the words, then fills up with a sense of rightness I’ve never felt before. I know this is the right thing to do. The best thing for me. This place has been sucking my soul dry for long enough.

I don’t know what I’ll do, now. I don’t know where I’ll go.

But the one thing I do know is that I want to be happy . Hali taught me that. Seeing the joy in her expression at the turtle center. Her elation when she’s singing, onstage or off. The love in her eyes when she looks at her mom. Her internal peace when she’s on the beach, staring at the ocean.

I want that. All of it.

And I know for a fact that I’ll never find it here.

“Thank you, Julius,” I say as I rise from my seat.

“For what?” he grunts, his face red with anger.

“For showing me what I don’t want out of life.”

And without another word, I walk out. I nod to the assistant as I pass, and she grins at me like she heard our whole conversation and wholeheartedly approves of my choices.

I smile back, then pick up the pace. I’m running by the time I exit the building, and I stop in the middle of the lot, panting as the sun beats down on my head and shoulders.

I did it. I broke free.

And I know exactly what I need to do next.