I blink. “Why would anyone be hurt? And didn’t you speak to Ronit?”
“Because you were in a heat that was happening in a way that no one else has ever experienced a heat. And that was two days ago.”
“We are Sirens,” I say arrogantly. “We can survive anything.”
“It’s been seven days.” He drops the bomb and waits.
I blink. “What?”
“Brio, it’s been seven days since Mei made the call for help.”
Eight…days? My fingers tighten around the phone.
“Don’t lie to me. Heats don’t go for eight days.”
“I’m not lying. I’m telling you, it’s been eight days.”
I turn and find Canto staring at me, his lips pressed together. “Eight days, Canto,” I say in a panic. “We just lost eight days.”
He looks down and shakes his head minutely. “We’re running out of time,” he mutters and turns away, going back into the nest.
Diablos growls. “Azriel, if you don’t knock that shit off, I’m going to-Oh, hi, Wraith. Can you please get him off that statue? We don’t use statues to masturbate.” There’s a pause. “I don’t care if he likes it. We don’t fuck stone dildos in public. Get. Him. Off. Now.”
Diablos heaves an exasperated sigh.
“Right, you- WHAT ARE YOU DOING? Get him off, as in take him elsewhere, no! Get him OFF!”
I glare at the phone with distaste.
“Does anyone need a healer?” Diablos asks quickly.
I snort. “Mei is a healer.”
“I would like to see her-”
“NO!” I growl. “Not a chance.”
“Proof of life, to make sure she’s okay and not injured.”
“She is fine!” I snarl.
“Brio, this isn’t a request. While Mei is here, she is my responsibility. I have to know she is okay both physically and emotionally.”
Diablos flashes into the room in front of me.
Ronit prowls out but forces himself to stop, his fingers clawing at his sides. The heat and our tempers sizzle in the air, but it’s not strong, it’s weaker, and though I’m angry, it doesn’t hold the same bite that it did.
Mei walks out dressed in a long, flowing satin dress that looks like the ocean. My heart bounces up into my throat, and I feel like someone’s hit me over the head.
“You look as beautiful as anything I’ve ever seen,” I murmur.
Her song, so seldom heard, crashes into the room, and the five of us go still, listening intently to it. That melancholy has changed to cautious, tentative hope. She likes us.
She trusts us.
“See, she’s fine. Now, go away,” I growl at the demon.
“I just need to-”
