Page 25 of Siren’s Mark (The Siren’s Mark Duology #1)

ZANE

My eyes open to a flurry of purple hair sprawled across my chest. Her scent is intoxicating and her touch even more so.

I’m so bloody in love with this girl, she could stab me in the heart and I would still want to wrap her in my arms.

As the sunlight peeks into my room, I see scattered shreds of clothing everywhere, the bedside lamp mangled on the floor, and large chunks of cotton batting strewn throughout the room.

Oh bloody hell.

Memories of last night come flooding back to me. I completely lost control.

I turn my head slightly so as not to disturb Ava. She’s wrapped inside my wing. I turn to see my other wing splayed under the covers.

Bloody fucking hell. What the fuck happened to me?

My mind flashed back to last night.

That soft moan as I buried myself into her.

“Don’t hold back on me.”

“I want you—all of you.”

“I love you.”

Ava’s fingernails running along my wing ridges.

I pull myself away from the memory when I realize I’m rock solid.

Okay, enough thinking about that.

Wait… last night…

Suddenly I remember the rest of the evening: Ava was attacked. I’m not about to let that one go.

I reach for my phone to text Kami, but it’s not plugged into its charger.

Who bloody knows where my trousers are…

Ava stirs ever so slightly, cozying up into my wing as a contented purr leaves her lips.

My god, she’s perfect.

If I fell asleep with my wings out…

I take a second to comprehend the thought.

What does that mean? I had sex with her and then I wrapped her in my wings and held her? Still in Siren form?

I keep the beast at bay because it’s just that—a beast. My carnal form is the epitome of instinct and passion: lust, anger, jealousy… sure. But this?

What does that even mean?

Does all of me—even at my worst—feel the way about Ava that I do right now?

AVA

I rub my eyes and yawn as I wake from sleep. The light is bright enough that it must be mid-morning and I’m wrapped in a soft black blanket, lying on Zane’s bare chest.

This is almost aggressively comfortable.

As I open my eyes, I see the room is a bit worse for the wear from last night. Little bits of pillow fluff are strewn across the floor. Zane shifts beneath me, pulling me in with one arm around my waist.

Wait, his arm is on my waist but also on my shoulder? How does that work? Whose arm is that??

I flinch as my eyes pop open further.

“You okay, baby?” Zane asks in a soft, low voice.

I look closer and discover that the blanket isn’t so much a blanket as it is a wing. Zane’s wing.

My life is really weird.

“Yeah, sorry. I didn’t realize your arm was… your arm… but, not your arm,” I say.

Yeah, that made sense, Ava.

“Care to try that again, love?” he says with a smile. In a seamless move, he rolls on top of me—his arms on either side of me, his body completely naked with his wings tucked slightly but still on display, the sheet wrapped around our legs.

“Your… um…”

What was I saying?

“My arms aren’t my arms,” he continues with a chuckle. “You mean these, love?”

He spreads his wings behind his back and smiles.

Damn.

His expression drops for a moment, even though he’s trying to hide it.

“Is that… okay? Are we okay?”

“What?” I ask. “No, no. Sorry, I’m just… this is very distracting.” I smile and wink as I pull him in for a kiss.

He smiles as our lips are inches apart.

“You don’t mind, baby? Everything from last night?”

“Zane, I keep telling you, I’m not being hypnotized by your Siren magic or whatever. I mean, okay I am, but you can’t be hypnotized into feeling something you already feel.”

His smile grows wider as he kisses my cheek.

“Okay love,” he says. “But I’m not kissing you until you’ve at least had breakfast. We don’t want you passing out, now, do we?” He laughs as I playfully push him.

“You’re just afraid you’ll be hypnotized by my magical powers, aren’t you?” I joke.

“Oh definitely,” he says, his eyes sparkling. “You human temptress you.”

He rolls off me and walks over to his dresser, pulling out a pair of boxers and a T-shirt. I look around for my clothes and see the ripped remnants of my tank top on the floor.

Oh yeah. Right…

“Um, Zane?” I ask.

He turns around as I hold up my shredded tank top.

“Oh,” he says. He looks down at the T-shirt and boxers in his hand and throws them to me.

“Thanks,” I say, sitting on the edge of the bed and pulling the T-shirt on over my shoulders.

In a sudden motion, Zane has me pinned beneath him on the bed. His eyes are already a glowing green.

“Damn it,” he mumbles under his breath.

“What?” I ask.

“You look so good wearing my clothes, love,” he says in a low, almost growling voice as he kisses my neck. “I’m afraid I’m no match for those human powers of yours.”

I smirk and kiss his neck in return. He lets out a low moan in response.

“Does that mean I get my kiss now?” I ask.

“You get a whole lot more than that, baby.”

ZANE

While Ava is in the shower, I figure it’s as good a time as any to clean up the mess I’ve made in here. I straighten the furniture and reattach the curtains to the rod, collecting pillow stuffing as I go.

A buzzing noise sounds from beneath me. Ava’s jeans from last night have somehow made their way under my bed and I can see her phone lighting up inside one of the pockets.

I grab and fold the jeans, placing her phone on my nightstand. The phone vibrates again, and then again.

It’s probably dying from not being plugged in all night. I walk over to where I have my charger and plug it in. As the screen lights up, I see a string of messages.

Mike

Talk to me Ava

You’re being a bitch right now

Ava I miss you

Okay, I should not have read those. I didn’t even mean to, but I shouldn’t have done that.

Especially since now all I can think of is how I’m going to fillet Mike like a fucking fish.

Do I say something and admit that I basically read her private text messages or do I just let it go? Can I even just let it go?

I hear the shower turn off in the master bathroom and I return to cleaning up the pillow stuffing.

“Hey Zane, can I ask you something?” she asks, emerging from the bathroom in a towel.

Fuck. She knows.

“Yeah baby, what is it?” I reply.

“What’s with the weird cabinet-shelf thing in your bathroom? The one with all the odd bottles?”

My brain sighs in relief. That’s a much easier question to answer.

“That’s basically an old-fashioned medicine cabinet,” I explain. “Most of those things are Immortal medicines. Human medicine doesn’t really work on our physiology.”

“But if you’re immortal, why do you need medicine? Can you get sick?”

“Sort of…” I explain. “We can be injured by other Immortals. Some of those bottles are anti-venoms or counteract certain poisons. A couple are, erm, recreational. Others are more like Immortal first aid, to give you more time to be healed. In my case, that would mean getting venom from another Siren or…”

“As in like, kissing?” she asks, her expression twisting into one of discomfort.

“Why baby, you jealous?” I secretly love the idea of her being jealous over me. Since the moment I met her I’ve been the jealous one; it’s nice to see the shoe on the other foot.

“I mean, I guess if it’s life or death or something, but can’t you just, I dunno, spit at each other?”

“Eww, Ava. That’s disturbing. But for the record, you can just deposit venom into a vial for the other to drink.”

“And that’s not disturbing?” she asks.

“Okay, fair dues, love. Well, there’s always my favorite option,” I say with a smirk.

“What’s that?”

“You and I could have sex.”

“Sex can heal you?” she asks, not nearly as surprised as I expected.

“Yeah I mean, basically we need to replenish our energy to heal and our energy can be boosted by things that recharge our passions.”

She stares at me for about 15 seconds, not saying a word.

Fuck. Is she mad?

Is this weird?

Should I have lied?

In an instant, she bursts into laugher and starts singing.

“Sexual healing… Oh baby!”

I roll my eyes and smile as I swoop in to pick her up over my shoulder, still wrapped in her towel.

“You think you’re real funny, don’t you human?” I tease.

She continues to sing the words to “Sexual Healing” as I walk her to the bed. I playfully smack her arse as she lets out a yelp before setting her on the mattress.

I lay beside her and she reaches to stroke my hair, those grey eyes piercing through my every layer.

“Missed a spot!” she says with a smile, pulling a clump of pillow stuffing from my hair. I laugh and blow the cotton batting away with a puff of air.

“They’re everywhere,” I say with an eye roll. “This apartment will be haunted by the specter of those pillows until the end of time.”

“Can I ask you a personal question?”

“Only if you stop singing.”

“Deal,” she says. “So… Are you… There’s no right way to say this, is there?”

This can’t possibly be a good question.

“You’re scaring me, love,” I say with an uneasy chuckle.

“Sorry, it’s nothing bad. I’m just trying not to be offensive.”

“Okaayyy…”

“Are you like… a bird?”

A burst of laughter leaves my lips.

“Did you just ask me if I’m a bird, love?”

“I’m sorry I mean like… shoot, is that offensive? I’m sorry.”

I continue to laugh.

“I’m assuming you don’t mean bird in the English way as in, a lady , because, well…” I tease with a smile. “I’m pretty sure I’ve shown you quite recently that I’m all man. But I’d be glad to show you again.”

“No!” she says, smacking my chest.

“I figured. So you’re back to asking if I’m a bloody penguin again?”

“No! I just… I noticed your pillows are cotton and not feathers and I was wondering if that’s because you… I dunno… if you’re a bird-person maybe you feel weird sleeping on other birds’ feathers?”

Fuck she’s adorable.

I can’t help but laugh again.

“Baby,” I say with a grin. “I just bought pillows. I’m a guy. I didn’t put that much thought into it. They’re pillows. I’m not part bird just because I have wings.”

“Oh.” Her cheeks flush and she tilts her head down. “I dunno. I don’t really know that much about wings or people with wings. I wouldn’t know if someone, like, made pillows out of Sirens or something and it was a horrible tragedy.”

“Baby,” I say through a stifled laugh. “You’re lovely to be considerate of that—and very weird—but that would be the least comfortable pillow known to man.”

“Why’s that?”

“Here, I’ll show you.” I step off the bed and extend my wings from my body, bending one forward so the tips of the feathers are next to her. “Feel.”

“Oh!” she says as she runs her fingers over the edges. “They’re soft but then they’re also kind of… hard? Like a toothbrush or something.”

“Yeah, the closer you get to the shaft, the tougher they are. My skin is impenetrable to human weapons and my feathers are made of the same stuff.”

“Do they fall out?” she asks.

“No. The only way I can lose them is if they’re cut or damaged by certain things.”

“What things?”

“It’s pretty rare to come by anything that can harm a Siren.

Few other Immortals have the strength to do it, not even other Sirens.

We can be cut by a demon’s claws or a very special type of knife.

Sirens’ feathers are not something that you really can just separate from the Siren. Unless we pull them out ourselves.”

“What? Why would you do that?”

“I mean you wouldn’t, unless you had to for some reason. But we can remove our own.”

There’s really only one reason, but it’s one I rather not scare her with.

“Do they grow back?” she asks as she strokes a feather, both concerned and fascinated.

“Yeah. Why?”

“No reason.” Her eyes dart away and she bites her lip slightly.

“If you were trying not to be suspicious, you failed gloriously.”

“Sorry, this is silly. I just like your wings and they remind me of you and I was thinking it would be nice… if you had feathers and all… if I could have one. That’s really weird, isn’t it? I’m sorry.”

No one has ever asked that of me. Mostly because Immortals understand exactly what it means. But her innocent grey eyes staring at me make me want to give her anything.

This girl will definitely be the death of me.

I bend a wing around my body so I can reach a feather with my arms, slowly plucking it from my wing. There’s a tiny surge of pain as I do, but it’s brief.

“Only for you, baby,” I say, handing her the black feather.

She looks at the feather in her hand with shock and a huge smile stretches across her face. She pulls me in with the other hand and kisses me on the cheek.

“Thank you,” she says, her eyes meeting mine. “I love it.”

“Be careful with that, okay?” I say. “The quill end is a lot sharper than it looks.”

There are two known objects that can kill a Siren… and I just handed one to the love of my life.