Page 43 of Siren’s Mark (The Siren’s Mark Duology #1)

AVA

Zane’s eyes search frantically around us and he looks particularly on edge.

Part of me feels anxious about seeing him but I can’t stop thinking about how attractive he looks.

He’s wearing a jean jacket and a grey T-shirt with black jeans and his go-to black boots.

His hair is tousled and a bit messier than usual, his eyes are sunken with dark bags beneath them, and his skin is pale and lifeless.

He still looks amazing, but not quite his usual self.

I wonder if he’s been crying.

“Who are you with?” he asks in a low, serious tone as his eyes scan the room.

“Hey Ava,” Jen’s voice says from behind me. “So Dave is totally game for body shots…”

She turns toward Zane with a slight glare. “Oh hi, Zach,” she says. “I didn’t see you there.”

Subtle, Jen.

“Hi Jen,” Zane says with a grumble, his jaw tight. “Which one is Dave?”

“Why would you need to know that?” Jen asks. “You don’t have any right to butt into Ava’s personal business as her EX -boyfriend.”

Zane visibly shudders at the word and his eyes pinch shut.

“Jen,” he says with a sigh. His voice is tight and strained. “You’re right. I just need to talk to Ava alone for a second.”

“Oh, so you can talk in person? I thought you were more of an over-the-phone kind of guy,” she says with a spiteful tone, stepping in between me and Zane. “I’m sorry, but as you can see, Ava has company for the evening.”

Jen gestures to the men we’ve been talking to: Dave, a 6-and-a-half-foot tall, muscular construction foreman with tan skin and medium-long brown hair, and Alex, a model-type, shorter than Dave but still relatively tall, with sharp features and spiky short hair.

If you were ever going to run into an ex, these are the men you’d want to be with.

Jen thought I needed a night of frivolity and—her words, not mine—stranger-boning.

I didn’t really intend on the stranger-boning bit, although I’m starting to rethink that plan.

Dave is really cute and definitely interested.

But having Zane here is bringing up all these feelings that I wasn’t counting on dealing with.

“Ava,” Zane says through gritted teeth. “I need to talk to you. Now.”

As his eyes meet mine, I see that they’re beginning to turn green.

A little late to be jealous, buddy.

“She doesn’t owe you a conversation, Benedict Arnold,” Jen spits.

Zane lets out a little growl while his jaw remains tightly clenched. I let my eyes fall to the floor. I can’t help but find him captivating, even though he broke my heart a few days ago.

What is wrong with me?

“Get over yourself,” Jen says to Zane. “You gave up the right to have an opinion here.”

“Jen,” he says with a low grumble. “I know you’re trying to protect her and I appreciate that, but this is not the time.”

“You’re right,” she replies. “It’s not the time—you should leave. You’re not welcome here.”

He lets out another low growl as she puts her arm around me.

“Come on, Ava,” she says. “It turns out there’s one kind of pussy even I don’t like.”

Kieran lets out a burst of laughter at her comment.

“Oh you are so not off the hook,” she says to Kieran with a glare. “You were supposed to keep the riffraff out.”

Kieran’s eyes widen with guilt.

As we turn to leave, Zane reaches out and grabs Jen’s arm.

“Excuse me!” she yells.

“You’re going to go back to your group now and you’re going to let me talk to Ava,” Zane says.

Her expression softens and she turns to me.

“Holler if you need me, hon,” she says, before giving Zane the ‘I’m watching you’ gesture as she walks back to the pool table area with the boys.

“Using your powers on Jen?” I ask. “Really??”

I try to avoid looking directly at his face because it’s hard to be mad when he’s looking this attractive.

Stop it.

Bad brain.

“Ava, what have you had to drink tonight?” Zane asks.

“I’m not drunk, you ass,” I say.

I’m not drunk, right?

I only had one beer, and I drank it pretty slowly. Since I’m off of that medication there’s no reason it should affect me this strongly, though I can’t help but feel a little intoxicated.

Actually, it’s less intoxicated and more like it would feel when I would kiss Zane. But obviously that hasn’t happened in a while.

“I’m not saying you’re drunk, love,” he says with a sigh. “Please just…”

His eyes look glossy and when he blinks a few tears fall out.

“Are you crying?” I ask.

“I… Fuck,” he says, wiping his eyes with the sleeve of his jacket. “Can we talk outside?”

I nod and we make our way out of the bar in silence. The air is crisp and cold, but it’s a welcome change from the hot, stuffy pub.

“Are you okay?” I ask. My breath makes fog in the air.

“No, Ava, I’m not fucking okay,” he says, resting his forehead on the brick exterior wall of the pub. “I ruin every bloody thing I come into contact with.”

Does he really believe that?

“I was trying to keep you safe,” he adds.

A few more tears roll down his cheek. “I thought it was the right thing. I thought you were in danger from me but now, I don’t even know.

Nothing I do works. I just had to know you, had to spend time with you, and now you’re paying the price for my lack of self-control. ”

He rakes his hands through his hair in a panic. I’ve never seen him look so distraught. I can’t help but feel a little bad for him.

“What are you talking about?” I ask. “Why do you think I’m in danger?”

“You’ve been dosed with Siren venom,” he says, looking up at me through strands of hair that have fallen into his face. His eyes are teary and he looks ragged and broken.

“I…” I start to deny it, but what he’s saying makes a lot of sense.

That’s exactly what I’ve been feeling. It’s not the alcohol, it’s the venom.

“How do you know?” I ask.

“Your fast pulse, your blown pupils. You’re sweating, your skin is flushed. The way you reacted to me, like you didn’t hate me.”

“Oh.”

“Did anyone have access to your drink?” he asks.

“No, I-” I pause to think for a minute.

I got my beer directly from Kieran at the bar, and it had been in my hand the whole time. When we were playing pool, I sat the drink down in front of me.

“You,” Zane says with a strained voice. “You didn’t… Did you…”

He grimaces and grabs the fabric of his T-shirt at his chest, twisting it in his fist.

“Did you kiss someone?” he asks with his chin down, not able to lift his eyes to meet mine. His fist hits the wall and sends a crack splitting through a few bricks.

I can’t help but feel a bit of joy in his jealousy, if only because it proves he’s regretting breaking up with me.

Good.

It’s hard to take comfort in his misery when he looks so completely devastated.

Damn it.

“No,” I say. “I haven’t kissed anyone.”

He releases a hard, shaky breath and leans back against the wall.

“I must’ve taken my eyes off my drink and just not remembered,” I say. “You guys are also like, super-fast, so maybe they were just faster than I could see.”

“How do you know those guys you were with?”

“Well, Alex went to middle school with us, so I’m pretty certain he’s not a Siren,” I say.

“Alex,” Zane grumbles, his eyes flashing green.

“Dave is Alex’s friend, so I guess he could be a Siren,” I say. “He does have that supernaturally-good-looking thing going on.”

Did I say that just to be petty? Maybe.

Zane lets out another rumbling growl.

“Did h-” Zane begins to say, as the door swings open next to us.

It’s Dave, of course. Perfect timing.

“Hey, gorgeous!” he says with a smile. “We were wondering where you disappeared to.”

Dave gives Zane a brief nod hello before turning back to me.

Zane ducks his head slightly, probably trying to hide the fact that he’s been crying.

“Brrr,” Dave says with a shiver. “You must be freezing out here.”

He pulls off his leather jacket.

“Here,” he says, wrapping it around my shoulders. “Wouldn’t want you to get hypothermia.”

Zane lets out a growl that sounds more like it came from a tiger than a man. His eyes are glowing green in the dim lighting outside Pike’s.

Dave seems caught off guard by Zane’s reaction, but is stumped on how to react.

“She’s fine,” Zane says, his voice gravelly and deeper than usual.

“I uh,” Dave says, raising an eyebrow. “Maybe we should go back inside.”

Zane looks up at him, likely contemplating his options. I’m not sure what these options are, but I doubt they’re good. Before I can think of a way to deescalate the situation, a blur zooms past my face—it’s Zane’s fist, and I watch in shock as it connects with Dave’s jaw.

Dave stumbles back, his nose bleeding. As a practical giant, this guy probably doesn’t get punched a lot, and he looks almost shocked that someone had the guts to hit him.

“The hell was that for?” Dave asks, pushing out his chest and stomping toward Zane.

Zane rolls his eyes and grabs both of Dave’s wrists.

“Stop,” he says. “Go clean yourself up and then go back to your mates and forget you ever met me.”

“Zane!” I scold.

Dave turns around and complies with Zane’s command.

“What the hell, Zane?” I say, pushing his chest. “You can’t just go punching people because they’re interested in me! You broke up with me, remember?”

“I was trying to figure out if he was a Siren,” he says, narrowing his eyes.

“How does punching him do that?” I ask.

“He bled,” he says. “Sirens don’t bleed that easy.”

“Oh.”

I guess that does kind of make sense.

“Why couldn’t you just charm him?” I ask.

“Well, you can fake being susceptible to charms,” he says. “Plus, I really wanted to punch him.”

I roll my eyes and scoff.

“Can you come stay with me tonight?” he asks. “I’ll sleep on the couch, I swear. I just want to make sure you’re safe.”

“I’m not staying at your house, Zane,” I say.

“Would you prefer I stay at yours?” Zane asks.

“No. I can stay with Jen.”

“Jen can’t protect you from a Siren. I can.”

“So can Kami,” I say. “Or Kieran.”

“Fine, can I take you to Kami’s then?” he asks. “Please?”

This may or may not be a really bad decision.