“Tighten your hold.” I heard Wanda say. “Don’t break hands and don’t stop chanting.” Then she started up the chant again, this time louder. More fierce.
My ears rang with phantom harmonies, twisted and discordant. Angry. I could feel the curse reaching for me like a tentacle from the deep, surging slow and inevitably for the softness of my underbelly.
And then, just as suddenly, the noise imploded. The silence that followed was too complete, too final. It hurt worse than the song ever had.
“Eerie?” someone prompted.
Mike stood just inside the circle of candlelight, his dark hair still mussed from when he’d run a hand through it earlier. The cobalt blue of his eyes looked almost unnatural in the dim room. Though I suppose that was to be expected, now that he was a vampire. Their night vision was unreal.
I took a deep breath, slowly realizing the pain had subsided. I could actually breathe again.
“Are you ready to test it?” Mike asked.
I tried to slow the sudden panic that reared up inside me at the question. “I’m worried,” I answered honestly.
“It’s going to be fine,” he said, pitching his voice low. It was probably meant to be soothing. It just made me want to slap the optimism out of him.
“Exactly,” Wanda said with a quick nod. “Listen to the vampire. He knows what he’s talking about.”
I eyed her skeptically. “Aren’t you going to get strung up for treason for saying that? I thought vampires and witches hated each other.”
“We do,” she sniffed. “But there are exceptions to every rule. And when he’s right, he’s right. You brought your problem to the right witches, which means this isn’t going to end in disaster. So do everyone a favor and try for a little inner peace. You’ll only make your song stronger if you sing while stressed.”
She was right, of course. Damn it.
Poppy clapped her hands together. “You heard the lady—no stress.”
Imani just gave me a nod.
“Now might be a great time to think of waves or sea shells or whatever else you mermaids think about when you’re trying for some inner peace,” Mike said with a smirk.
He grunted when my elbow collided with his ribs. “Watch what you say to me, you ass. I’m about to twist your psyche like a pretzel. Again. I’m entitled to a little stress, under the circumstances.”
Mike folded his arms, giving me that look that always meantyou can do this,even when I was sure I couldn’t. “You don’t have to go all out. Just a note or two. Test the waters.”
Easy for him to say. I’d seen what a single note could do.
I looked at the three women in the room. “You should probably leave the room, just in case.”
They nodded and soon it was just Mike and me. And I still wasn’t sure I wanted to go through with this. What if it backfired? What if I restored him to the insane person? What if I messed him up all over again?
“Come on, Eerie,” he urged me. “It’s going to be fine.”
I drew in a slow breath. The song lived just beneath my ribs, warm and heavy, pressing against my lungs. It wanted out. Gods, it always wanted out.
“Here goes nothing,” I murmured.
The first note slipped free—soft, hesitant. For a moment I braced for the scream, the chaos, the madness that used to follow.
But nothing happened.
Mike didn’t flinch. Didn’t snarl or clutch his head. He just… smiled.
“Try another,” he said gently.
So I did. Louder this time.
“I’m fine,” he said.
