Then, what she just said registers in my mind.
Seventeen years.
That’s a long fucking time.
When the silence stretches, Samantha is the first to break it.
“To be clear, Georgiana, you know this man? And he hasn’t been seen in seventeen years?”
The siren crosses her arms over her chest and gives the police chief a solemn nod. “We were … acquainted. Bo’s father, Arvin, used to run a mechanic shop on the north side of town.”
“Georgie—”
“Georgiana,” she corrects with a sharp note in her voice, and the monster flinches.
“That’s a while back, but we don’t have a lot of missing person cases here. Would’ve thought I’d have come across it at some point on the job,” Sam says, her voice cautious, wary of calling out a council member. “Do you know if one was filed?”
“I’m not sure.” Georgiana looks in the direction of the chief, but doesn’t meet her eyes.
Everything about the siren’s stance is defensive. Distancing.
“You didn’t look for me?”
I pride myself on being a firm, practical person. Not one prone to soft sentimentality.
But damn if the hopeless way Bo asks that question doesn’t jab my heart.
“You were always talking about leaving.” Georgiana waves a dismissive hand toward the road. “Everyone figured you’d gone. So did I.”
“I wouldn’t have. Not before I—” He lets out a strangled gasp, as if suddenly choked by a strong hand. He coughs, deep and rough, clearing his throat. His mouth works, as if trying to form words, but nothing comes.
Georgiana looks deathly white in the glow of Samantha’s headlights. She also appears cold, standing straight and staring anywhere but the man.
“Bo was cursed.” I gaze unflinchingly at The Council woman, unabashedly reading her aura as I speak. Something about this exchange sets off my warning bells. “Bo was stuck as a metal sculpture in Dimitri Novac’s collection. For seventeen years, apparently.”
There it is.
The bright flash of burnt orange.
Guilt.
“What happened to you was unfortunate.” The siren speaks like a customer service representative who was trained not to admit fault. “I’m glad you came out unscathed.”
Unscathed? Does she not see the emotional and mental wounds burning bright in the aura of the monster?
No, I guess she doesn’t. That’s just me.
“Things have changed in the last seventeen years. The monsters now have representation on the Mythic Council.” She nods toward her fellow council member. “Levi Abadi currently holds the seat. He can help you reacclimate.”
Simple as that, she dismisses Bo. Passing the guy off, as if her being the only person he knows means nothing.
I didn’t have much of an opinion about the siren before tonight, but gods do I now.
She’s a bitch.
And he just takes her cold words, standing in the ruins of what must have once been his home, his large figure wilting in the face of her frost.
“I need to get home,” she says, more to the group than to Bo. “My husband will be wondering where I am.”
