Brexley’s scarred, sharp eyes narrow as he sniffs the air, and then they snap to me. "You smell different," he mutters.
"What do you mean, different?" I ask, immediately on the edge of being offended. “Also, I thought your allergies plugged up your nose.”
“We got him on some powerful antihistamines,” Red explains, crossing back to him and linking her arm through her fiancé's, now that everyone has somewhat relaxed. “No more problems with living with the bun buns.”
Brexley's expression is inscrutable as he steps closer to me, sniffing the air around me. "You smell like. . . ” He wrinkles his nose before casting a quick look of disgust at Ted.
Oh, for fucks sake, if he outs Ted and I for having sex, I will kill myself. Choke myself on a slop pile of porridge just so I don’t have to face this.
“You reek of magic.” Brexley finishes. “But in that weird, not so awful way, like Red.”
The organ in my chest stalls out.
My friend smacks his chest even as she studies me closer. “Oh witchtits,” Red asks in earnest. “Did it happen?”
“Did what happen?” Ted asks, shifting his weight to the other leg, tension setting his shoulders.
The whiplash continues. My brain is going to explode before I can process everything that’s happened in the last couple of hours. It’s easy to ignore some random loan shark thug I never met, but this. . .
"What did that gangster call me?” My voice is weak, barely audible.
“A siren,” Ted answers, his brows furrowing with concern or maybe confusion.
“Wait, what?” Red throws her hands out as if she can slow the room down. “A siren? Like the mages who attract, make others fall in love with them?”
“Aren’t sirens fae? Like evil mermaids that call sailors to them and drown them?” Eli asks.
“Good to know you paid some attention in school,” Ted grumbles.
“That’s what the mages named this power after,” Red explains. “Because it does remind them of the siren fae. But no half fish situation.”
“No,” I protest before cutting my arms in an X shape. Everyone is taking this way too far, and they need to stop. “No way. I did not get mage powers overnight.”
“I know I've been busy and we haven’t caught up,” Red says softly, coming to my side to rub my back. “But I know you texted some weird things have been happening.”
I open and close my mouth several times. “But not that. . . ” My words falter.
I shake my head in disbelief. This can't be true.
Suddenly, everything that's happened to me recently makes sense. All the strange looks I've received from strangers, the way men always seem to want to be around me. It's all because of this power that I didn't even know I have—the way they hit on me in front of their girlfriends, the overly assertive approach before I’ve even opened my mouth, the proposals.
“I learned about sirens at the FFA, Goldie,” Red explains, her expression becoming drawn and serious. “I can help you.”
“The what?” Ted asks. I half expect his head to spin off. Mine will shortly follow.
“Fairy Fine Arts Academy, a school for mages,” Red explains, while still rubbing my back in comforting circles.
“Why would they have ‘fairy’ in the name if the school is for mages? The fairies are a fae race, not mages,” JJ comments, slipping his hands in his pockets.
Red waves a hand of dismissal. “Who knows. Either they did it to deliberately piss off the fairy court or they are idiots. But that’s not the point. The point is there used to be way more sirens around and now there uh. . . isn’t.”
“Can someone tell me what’s going on?” Ted's anxiety seems to tighten and twist up until he’s about to explode. “None of this is making sense.”
“Yeah, witches are born not made,” Eli says. When the bears are all gathered, I easily spot their familial resemblance. Eli shares the same serious intensity as Ted. JJ has the same nose and set of his lips, but his tall lankiness and limp hair sets him apart.
“We don’t say witch or wizard anymore,” Brexley says, leaning a shoulder against the wall. “That’s outdated and inappropriate, we say mage now.” He explains it as if Eli were an idiot child.
He’s not wrong. It’s just weird hearing the Big Bad give a lesson in political correctness.
