“It sounds… promising,” Wanda finally admitted, flipping the long, dark sheet of her hair over one shoulder. “But how would we even test it? How would we know it actually works?”
“What do you mean?” Poppy asked.
“Well, if the siren’s voice is that alluring, is there any way to safely test whether or not the brew has the right effect?” Wanda answered.
Poppy tilted her head, thinking. “Well… we would have to test Marina’s song on someone who can handle it. Someone who wouldn’t get hurt if something went wrong or if something didn’t work.”
Wanda nodded, her fingers idly tracing a glass vial. “Yes. And… someone with a mind strong enough to be able to judge, objectively, whether the magic is working as intended.”
I frowned. “Meaning…?”
They both turned to face me, but it was Wanda who spoke first. “Is there anyone who can withstand your song? Anyone that your glamour doesn’t work on?”
“Mike,” I answered almost immediately.
“Who’s Mike?” Poppy asked.
Now there was a loaded question if I’d ever heard one. Ten years ago I would have told them the truth—that Mike was my business partner, one half of a detective agency that specialized in the paranormal. Five years ago, I would have clammed up and refused to speak his name. Mike had heard my song and gone utterly mad. It had been only a year since he’d recovered his sanity and returned to being the man I once knew. And now? Now, I wasn’t sure what we were anymore, except partners.
“He’s a vampire. Ex-cop. Through a series of mishaps, he has the power of a demon in his head. Keeps the insanity of my song at bay. If anyone can tell you whether your potions and spells are effective, it would be him.”
“But if he’s immune to your voice, how would he know if our attempt is working or not?” Poppy asked.
“Well, it’s not that he’s immune,” I answered. “It’s more that he can feel the glamour, but the demon within him doesn’t allow him to be moved by it. Think of the demon as a wall that keeps him tethered.”
“Okay, then we should get him involved,” Wanda said, facing Poppy, who nodded.
I stiffened. My throat closed. “You want me to… what? Test your spell on him?”
“Not testiton him,” Wanda corrected gently. “Testyouon him. Just to see if your song can be controlled through potions and spells, or at least… mitigated. He’d be able to give us honest feedback.”
“What if it somehow… backfires? What if your potions or spells have the opposite effect and they change him back to how he used to be? I would never forgive myself.”
Poppy reached across the counter, brushing a hand over mine. “I know it’s scary, Marina. I know it’s…personal. Butif this works, it could change everything for you. No more worrying. No more hiding that side of you.”
I looked down at my hands, my fingers tight around the edge of the counter. The thought of being that vulnerable… of risking someone else—even Mike—was terrifying. And yet… the possibility of freedom, of control, of living without constant fear that my song was going to kill someone or make them lose their minds… well, the thought was a good one.
A really good one.
Chapter Five
I was insane.
There was no other way around it at this point. Ihadto be insane if I was condoning this insane thought experiment. Not only condoning it, butparticipating in it.No one had solved the curse in living memory because it wasn’t meant to be solved. And yet, I was letting witches and a gypsy perform a science experiment they had no business conducting.
And yet, here I was, in the coven house, letting them brew whatever they damn well pleased while Mike and I sat on our asses, just watching them. I couldn’t believe I was dragging him into my mess. Again.
“Breathe,” Mike reminded me. “It’s going to be fine.”
“You don’t know it’s going to be fine,” I snapped back. “What we’re doing here is insane. If this could have been done, it would have been done centuries ago, right? When there were more sirens around?”
“Not necessarily,” Wanda said. “Sirens were pretty rare, even then. No one might have had cause to try. Now hold still.”
I’d always thought of potions as a gentle art. Poppy’s elixir, smeared across my forehead and smelling strongly of patchouli, was proving me wrong. It stung my eyes and settled in my chest like cold iron.
And then there was the spell Wanda, Imani, and Poppy were busily working around me. A spell that apparently went along with the potion I’d already been anointed with. As they held hands and closed their eyes and chanted a language I didn’t recognize, nothing happened. Then the song suddenly surged up within me like a tidal wave against whatever barrier the potion and the spell were weaving inside me. The force of it stole my breath, and then I was overcome with pain.
I doubled over, a soundless cry catching in my throat. The musicwanted out. I could feel it clawing at my chest, trying to find a way to slip free from the chains which were currently being woven around it. The song strained against the band of my ribs, stealing my breath. Every note ricocheted through me, a hundred aching echoes that went nowhere.
