“Hmm.” Her wings flexed as she studied me. “That means you’re a monster, right?”
“I am.”
“According to my parents, I’m not supposed to associate with monsters.” She snorted a laugh that didn’t sound humorous. “I’m also not supposed to fly on nights that aren’t the dark moon.”
She waved behind her at the visible sickle moon between parted clouds.
At the dismissive tone in her voice, I found myself relaxing. “I won’t tell anyone,” I offered.
She smiled, and it was a gorgeous sight.
The siren opened her mouth to say something, but it was as if the world tilted and swayed under my feet. I reached out for the nearest tree to steady myself. And I tried to remember what just happened.
Georgiana said something. No, she sang something. The most beautiful song in the world … only I couldn’t remember it.
“Sorry,” she said, not sounding too apologetic. “I never get to sing either, and I wanted to see if my voice would work on you. Looks like it does.”
Ah. Of course. When sirens sang, the only people who could remember the experience were other sirens or someone a siren loved.
Could there ever be a day where I remember a siren song?
But that was a ridiculous thought. I should have just been glad she was not running away, screaming.
“Did you come to the Monster section so no one would see you flying?”
It was a good plan. There weren’t many of us here, and humans didn’t come this far.
“That, and I spotted this cliff when I was on my daddy’s speedboat earlier.” She pointed off to the side, where Lake Galen glittered in the moonlight. “I thought it would be a good launching point.”
“Feel free to use this cliff whenever.”
Technically, it was on my father’s property, but I doubted he’d care about some random mythic jumping off of it. He barely thought past the hood of a car or doors of Tipsy Howls.
She quirked her head while studying me. “Do you fly? In whatever monster form you take?”
“No. I … no. I don’t look near as pretty as you do when I shift.”
She smirked and gave a little half shrug. “Charmer. Probably better you keep that to yourself anyway.”
I agreed, though there was an uncomfortable tug deep in my gut that wished I could have the comfort with changing that most other mythics have.
“I’ll leave you to it. Sorry to interrupt.”
I made to leave, but her voice halted my steps. “You can stay. If you want. I don’t mind the company as long as you keep this little encounter to yourself.”
“Of course. I won’t tell anyone.”
And I didn’t.For years, I kept Georgiana’s secret.
Sometimes, she’d come every week. Sometimes, months would go by without a visit, and I’d only see her from afar intown. She never acknowledged me there, but I told myself I didn’t mind because on top of our cliff, she’d sit beside me and call me her friend and tell me how she chafed under the rules of her strict parents.
Then, one night, she kissed me, and I swore I grew my own set of wings from pure joy.
Georgiana stayed away for months after that, and I convinced myself I’d messed up the encounter.
Then she returned and acted like nothing had happened.
A week later, she kissed me again, only her breath smelled like the bottles my father always clutched close. It was the first time I didn’t want to kiss her back. She pressed me, tugging at my clothes and dragging my hand under her skirt. I didn’t want to do what she was demanding, not when she was drunk. But I also didn’t want to leave her alone in the woods.
