“I have not harmed you.” This statement made me want to laugh, as clearly, taking me against my will was fine as long as my captor treated me well and was…hot.
“No,” I agreed quickly.
“You’ve just forced me out of my apartment, dragged me back to your club, tried to imprison my friend, and now you’re interrogating me about some ancient language I don’t know the meaning of,” I snapped, and he narrowed his eyes down at me.
“You walked into my realm,” he reminded me, as if that single fact justified everything that had happened since. Words on repeat that hung between us.
I exhaled slowly. The silence stretched once again, and for a moment neither of us moved. Then, quietly, I said the thing that had been circling in my head ever since he had made what sounded suspiciously like a claim on me.
“What’s a siren?” That finally changed something in his expression. It was dramatic, but it was enough to tell me I was onto something. His gaze sharpened again, studying me in a way that made the fine hairs on the back of my neck stand up, and for a second I almost wished I hadn’t asked.
Almost.
Because the truth was, the word had been sitting under my skin since he said it…my little Siren.
And I needed to know why.
So, the question lingered between us and, for what seemed like an endless moment, he didn’t answer. The longer the silence stretched, the more aware I became of the shift in him. It wasn’t obvious, but then again, it rarely was with him. He kept his emotions on such a tight leash that it was almost impossible to tell what he was thinking.
His gaze held mine for another second before he turned away slightly, moving toward the dark desk at the far side of the room as though he suddenly needed the distance. The slow movement felt like a decision, not avoidance exactly, but something close to it.
“What do you know of Greek mythology?” he asked, and the change of subject was so abrupt that it caught me completely off guard.
“You mean apart from the Disney version?” I frowned, and his head tilted slightly, just enough for me to see the faintest flicker of confusion cross his expression.
“You are comparing the ancient pantheon to… animation?”
I nearly laughed at that.
“I’m comparing it to the only version most people actually remember,” I corrected quickly.
“You know, Zeus, lightning bolts, everyone sleeping with everyone else, that whole mess… although pretty sure Disney kept that part out for a reason.” The corner of his mouth twitched faintly despite himself, though the amusement didn’t last long.
“The stories humans tell of those beings are…incomplete,”he said, and this last word came out as more distasteful than anything else. And something about the way he said it made me straighten slightly.
“Incomplete how?”
His eyes lifted to mine again, that same piercing focus settling back over me.
“What do you know of Sirens?” he asked instead of explaining, and I shrugged.
“Not much, just what most people know, I guess.”
He tilted his head ever so slightly before pressing for more,
“And what is that?”
“Beautiful mermaids that would sing and lure sailors to their deaths,” I told him, basing everything I knew on one of the Pirates of the Caribbean movies.
“Sirens were not the monsters your world remembers,” he said slowly, and I blinked.
“Okay, so they’re a misunderstood sea creature. I still don’t understand what that has to do with…” My sentence trailed off when he started explaining.
“Long before human mythology distorted their image, there existed a small order of beings created by Zeus himself. Eleven in total. They were known for two things above all else, their beauty…and their voices,”he continued, his voice settling intothat low, measured cadence he seemed to use when explaining something ancient. It was as close to being hypnotic as I had ever heard, and a strange shiver slipped down my spine.
“Voices?”
“A Siren’s voice could bend the will of even the strongest creature,” he said quietly.
