Page 49 of Siren’s Mark (The Siren’s Mark Duology #1)

ZANE

I walk into the open courtyard at the center of a small shopping center. The place is relatively busy for midday; people carry armfuls of shopping bags, teens laugh while downing spoonfuls of frozen yogurt, a few men sit outside a women’s clothing store with a look of boredom on their faces.

The click-clack sound of Kami’s heels on the linoleum flooring catches my attention and I turn to see her walking toward me. She’s wearing a black suit with a silk black top underneath and her hair pulled back into a low ponytail.

She walks up to me with a somber expression.

“Okay, what the hell is going on?” I ask.

“Here,” she says with a sigh, gesturing to a nearby table and chairs. “Let’s sit.”

We both take a seat and I give her a questioning look.

“Why did we have to meet in person?” I ask. “What happened? Who is it?”

“Crime scene was already cleaned up when I got there,” Kami says. “But I was able to charm my way into the PCPD offices. I made copies of all the files and checked out the victim’s belongings.”

“And??” I ask, pushing for more details on the victim that we are supposed to know.

She pulls out a deep purple cloth and unwraps it to reveal a gold necklace. The pendant is slightly wider than a business card and features two feathers stretching in opposite directions from a red center stone.

It looks familiar but I can’t seem to place it.

I take a closer look at the object and slowly recognize a familiar scent.

The Seer. Lola.

“Shit,” I curse under my breath. “Kami, I… I’m so sorry. I know you two were close.”

“Thanks,” she says softly, leaning onto my shoulder.

After a moment of silence, Kami sits up and continues.

“I don’t know what is going on anymore, Z. If someone got to Lola, they have to know that I’ve been helping her investigate these killings. That’s why I wanted to meet you in person. I don’t know what’s safe.”

“Do you have any leads?” I ask.

“None that you’re going to like,” she says. She wraps the pendant back up with the cloth, along with a folded piece of paper and another small item I don’t recognize.

“Are we seriously considering Kieran again?” I ask. “His reaction seemed genuine when I asked him about it. I don’t think he even knew someone had died.”

“The police said they interviewed him this morning,” Kami says. “So if he pretended to be shocked, it’s bullshit. He knew.”

I stare at her, dumbfounded, trying to wrap my head around the new information.

Why would Kieran lie?

“Think about it, Z,” Kami says in a serious voice. “Why would Lola be at Pike’s? You think always-wears-couture, won’t-drink-it-if-it-doesn’t-have-bubbles Lola would go to a trashy pub in the middle of nowhere like Pike’s?”

“I don’t know. You know her better than I do.”

“Why would she go to Pike’s unless she had a vision? Unless she figured out it was Kieran and came there to confront him?”

“Fuck,” I say with a sigh. “I know this looks bad, Kam, but Kieran isn’t like that.”

“He’s a demon!”

“Exactly. He’s a demon—that doesn’t make him evil or a killer. You’re making a lot of assumptions just because of who he is.”

“That’s a nice idea, Zane, and I wanted to believe in Kieran too, for your sake. But look at the evidence. At the end of the day, we all know where demons come from. Maybe they just can’t change their nature.”

The first seven demons—some call them the original demons or Demon Kings—created their own demonic legions. Original demons are intensely powerful, but each is as corrupt and vile as the last.

Their demon offspring, however, are individuals—not controlled by their demonic creators. They’re no more destined to be like their makers than humans are to be like their parents.

“And what about us?” I ask. “Sirens are wild, aggressive, driven by their desires, uncontrollable… right? Are you and I just products of our design? Do we have any say in who we are?”

“That’s different, Z. We weren’t created by monsters.”

“I owe him the benefit of the doubt. Kieran has never betrayed me. I understand things look bad, but I trust him.”

Kami sighs and looks off into the distance.

“I made you copies,” she says, handing me a stack of papers. “Whether it’s Kieran or not, I’m gonna need your help on this. Look them over. We can talk more later.”

She scoops up her things and walks away, leaving me with a pile of case files.

As if my life wasn’t complicated enough.

AVA

After working out of a coffee shop all day, my hair smells like espresso and I look surprisingly disheveled for someone who has done nothing but sit for hours.

I walk over to Zane’s sapphire blue Charger, passing by a couple of girls sitting at a café table outside, flirtatiously waving in his direction.

Keep your eyes to yourself, ho-bags.

They’re probably very nice people, and here I am slut-shaming them for checking out my boyfriend. I’m a bad person.

“I love your car!” one of the girls shouts.

Ho-bag.

Zane looks completely unfazed by their attention and smiles at me as I approach.

“Hey baby,” he says to me out the window.

For a moment, the girl looks up as though Zane might be talking to her, but looks down awkwardly at her coffee when she sees me getting in his car.

I smile with delight.

Because I am a bad person.

“Hey,” I say, as Zane leans and kisses me on my neck.

He seems to think by kissing me on the neck he’s avoiding the arousing effect. But based on the way my body reacts to him, it’s safe to say it is not working .

“Your place tonight?” I ask.

We’ve spent the last few weeks at my place, so I feel like it’s only fair.

“Er, well…” he says suspiciously.

“Yeah, that wasn’t a totally shady response,” I say with a laugh.

“I may have… kind of… demolished my apartment.”

I stare at him with a stunned expression.

“You what?” I ask.

“I er… So I may have trashed the apartment… and my landlord may be in the process of evicting me for the… erm… broken window and holes in the wall and the smashed sink.”

“Holy crap, Zane!” I blurt out.

“Well, I told you I was a mess without you. To say I didn’t take it very well is pretty much the understatement of the millennium.”

“You’re the one who broke up with me. Shouldn’t I have been the one throwing stuff?”

“Love,” he says with a sigh. “You know I didn’t want to leave you. As we’ve already established, I’m a proper idiot.”

“I know.” I rub his arm with my hand. “I’m just kidding.”

“But long story short, my apartment isn’t the most habitable right now.”

“Well, okay, but you’re not allowed to go all Godzilla at my place,” I say with a giggle. “I have a lot of irreplaceable artifacts in there.”

Wouldn’t want anything to happen to my collection of hand-assembled Swedish furniture or the Craigslist floor lamp that falls over without the heavy books I use to weigh the base down.

“Okay, love,” he says with a smirk as we pull out of the coffee shop parking lot. “Can’t promise the bed is safe, though.”

He winks at me before turning his attention back to the road.

“So are you going to move then?” I ask, ignoring his flirty comment.

“Oh,” he says, pinching his lips into a straight line. “So I was thinking about that. Been wanting to move for a while and there’s a penthouse above Table. The last tenant just moved out and I’ve been thinking about taking it over. We already lease the space so it would make sense.”

“Ooh, that sounds really cool. Why haven’t you used it before?”

“Well, it’s a little big,” he says. “It’s got a big office that I wouldn’t really have any use for. A rooftop pool and garden. It’s almost 300 square meters. Seems like too much space for one person.”

“Oh,” I say, pondering his words.

Oh.

OH.

Is he saying what I think he’s saying?

“Okay, love, I’m going to need your help on this one,” he says with a slightly nervous smile. “I’ve never done this before. I’m trying to, er… If you’d like… Should I ask formally or… Fuck. I’m rubbish at this stuff.”

“You’re trying to say that you want…” I start to ask, but then my courage abandons me.

Does he want me to move in with him? I don’t want to be the one to say it if I’ve got it all wrong and then I’ll end up being presumptuous.

“Would you like to see the place?” he asks. “And then, if you like it, we could live there. Together.”

He tries in vain to hide his anxiety behind a subtle smile and unwavering expression, but there’s a slight quiver in his voice.

“Um,” I say, trying to think it over and come up with a response that will put him at ease without making an impulsive decision.

Do I want to move in with my extremely hot boyfriend and supernaturally destined soulmate into a fancy penthouse apartment overlooking the city?

If I respond with a ‘fuck yes’, will that make me seem desperate?

“Sure,” I say. “I mean, we can look into it.”

His expression softens and his smile widens into a genuine grin.

“Really?” he asks like a kid who was just told they’re going to Disneyland.

“As long as you don’t wreck this one,” I say with a teasing grin.