“Ah, yes, she is one of the friendliest of folks, from what I hear.”
I nodded. “She is.” Then I cleared my throat. “And she invited me to do a duet with her during a little impromptu party. It was an invitation to karaoke, not a trip to the gallows.”
“I get it,” he answered with a nod. “Your voice is a touchy subject.”
“But I should still probably apologize,” I said with a sigh. “Yet I don’t want to. And part of me feels like I should explain myself until I remember that every person I tell about this curse is just another opportunity for it to come back and bite me in the ass.”
“Well, mymerewould say that you can never go wrong with an apology and a baked dish. Something warm, something homemade. You know… make amends in a way that tastes better than words. If Poppy likes it well enough, you can bribe her into silence with the recipe.”
I snorted, a little embarrassed. “I’m a terrible cook. It’s not really an apology if I’m forcing your mother to cook to make amends for my mistake.”
He chuckled, shaking his head, eyes softening. “I’m sure my mother would be delighted to help. But you don’t have to worry about that tonight. There’s always tomorrow to overthink it.” Then he chuckled. “Come on. Sleep in our family quarters. It’s safer, quieter… warmer.”
I hesitated just a moment, the weight of exhaustion and lingering fear pressing down on me. Then I nodded. “Alright.”
He offered me a hand, and I took it, letting him lead me out of the circus tent, away from the shadows and the echoes of performance, toward a place that felt like...
Home.
Chapter Three
The next morning, I found myself clutching a small plate of cookies like they were a lifeline. Not that I trusted them to magically fix everything, but they were something. Tangible. Safe. Sweet. A peace offering, even if I felt a little pathetic recruiting an elderly weregator to play confectionery peacemaker.
I spotted Poppy near the front door of her shop, chatting with one of the local witches before the day really got underway. My stomach did a nervous flip, and I almost turned back. Half of me expected her to be standoffish, maybe even rude. I hadn’t exactly been rushing to explain myself the night before. And, yet, there was nothing about Poppy that even remotely hinted to the notion of rude.
“Hey,” I said, voice a little tight as I held out the plate. “I… um… I made these for you.”
“Wow, thank you! Chocolate chip are my favorite!” Poppy smiled, and accepted the cookies. “What’s the occasion?”
“Oh, no occasion.”
I nodded, awkward, fidgeting with the edge of the plate. “I, um, felt like I, um, needed to explain.”
“Explain?”
I nodded again. “Yeah… about last night. I—” I hesitated. My throat felt tight, but I pressed on. “I panicked. I didn’t mean to run off like I did. I’m afraid it might have seemed… rude.”
“I didn’t think it was rude at all. You were tired and wanted to get home. I understand that.”
“Well, it was… it was actually more than just that.” I took a deep breath. “I… I have to be careful when I sing. If I’m not careful, people can get hurt.”
Poppy tilted her head, listening, her expression patient and open, not the fear I’d expected to see. “Why would people get hurt if you sing?”
“Because I’m… a siren.”
She just continued to stand there, smiling up at me and I could tell by the expression on her face that she had no idea what it meant to be a siren. Jeez, she wasn’t going to make this conversation easy on me.
“Sirens have bewitching voices.”
“Bewitching as in—”
“As in I didn’t want to accidentally enthrall your party guests. And that was the main reason I had to leave. I just... I could have been nicer about it.” I cleared my throat. “So, I’m here with cookies, asking for your forgiveness.”
For a moment, the world narrowed to her face, her reaction. And then she grinned, a little mischievous, a little enthusiastic. “Forgive you? Marina, there’s nothing to forgive! Honestly, I was mostly confused as to why you would want to leave when we were having fun. Or I thought we were.” She paused. “But I’m glad you came to talk to me about it. And I’m glad I better understand you now. So thank you for that.” Then she glanced at the cookies. “And cookies? Carbs are never a wrong way to go.”
I blinked, caught off guard by her warmth. Relief bubbled up inside me, soft and unexpected. “Then you’re not freaked out by what I just said?”
“Why would I be freaked out?”
