“Yes, I know you’re sirens. I know you manipulate people with your voices.” The words came out harsh and accusatory.
He glared at me. “That’s not true.” I scoffed. “But that’s not the point and not why I’m here.” He took a step toward me. “Look, if someone manages to break free of our voice—if someone rejects the song and walks away—it causes—it’s like an emotional backlash. The compulsion turns inward and starts physically attacking us, trying to force us to sing again and capture the missing attention. And it won’t stop until it’s satisfied.”
Realization struck, worry thickening until it was so dense my stomach dropped. “And Elias… Elias is being attacked?”
He nodded and continued his nervous shifting from foot to foot. “He made me swear not to tell you. Said he never should have sung to you and that it was up to you if you wanted to see him again. He thinks he deserves what’s happening to him. But Lena—” He closed the final distance between us, and tears welled in his eyes. “Elias does not deserve what’s happening to him.”
I swallowed, but through my empathy, indignation rose. My patience for this entire conversation snapped.
“Then why don’t you go find one of his groupies? I’m sure there’s a long line of women eager to listen to him sing and shower him with praise.”
The muscles in Niko’s jaw clenched, his nostrils flaring as he breathed. He pressed his lips together so tightly they turned white. “He wouldn’t do that.” His words came out clipped and biting.
“Really? Because from what I saw at South Beach, that’s exactly what he’d do.”
He tilted his head up to the ceiling and sighed, hands fisted then flexed, and bounced on the balls of his feet. “I’m not even supposed to be here.” He swiped a hand down his face again and met my eyes. “Look. He could’ve sung to you again, you know that, right? Forced you to submit? He didn’t. He wouldn’t. And he could’ve sung to someone else. Anyone else. Hell, I begged him to. He flat out refused. Elias has never been good with this shit. He might be able to feel others’ emotions, but he’s never been in touch with his own.” Sincerity blazed in his blue eyes. “But I know this—he’s crazy about you, Lena, and he’s torturing himself, thinkin’ it’s what he deserves for hurting you.”
He grabbed my hand, and shocked by his profession, I didn’t pull away. “If you have any feelings for Elias at all, if you’re willin’ to give him another chance, please come see him. He needs you.” He dropped my hand and took a step back. “But if you don’t, and I’ve misread this entire situation, I won’t bother you again. It’s what Elias wants. But I had to at least try.”
He swallowed hard, searching my eyes one last time, then brushed past me and walked out the door. I stood frozen, my hand still outstretched where he’d held it, and tried to process what Niko confessed.
Elias was crazy about me. He’d refused all other women. He was sick—torturing himself apparently—and needed me.
Doubt warred with hope, indignation with compassion.
I’d latched on to the belief that I was reliving my life’s biggest mistake, that once again I was falling for the wrong man. But when I examined that idea, it didn’t hold up to even the slightest scrutiny. Elias wasn’t my ex. The friendship, the respect, the trust. His personality, his vitality, his energy. All genuine. And as for the compulsion? The compulsion hadn’t drawn me out of my depression. It hadn’t taught me to swim. It hadn’t come to my yoga class. It hadn’t shared those intimate moments we’d had together on the beach.
My feelings weren’t for the siren’s song. My feelings were for Elias.
I grabbed my purse, locked up the studio, and hopped on my beach cruiser. I needed to get to him. Fast. I’d started down a path into my new future, and I refused to let the man who’d helped me see that path destroy himself. Especially when I wanted nothing more than my future to be by his side.
Chapter Sixteen
LENA
Elias sat reclined in a beach chair looking out at the ocean. Dark circles shadowed his eyes, and the usual brightness of his tan skin was muted under a thin sheen of sweat. He had a blanket pulled up to cover his shoulders. It was seventy-five degrees outside.
My heart cracked open to see this vibrant man so in love with life reduced to such a sickly state.
“Oh, Elias.” I couldn’t keep the exasperation or the concern out of my voice.
He turned his head and stared at me, unbelieving, like I was a ghost. “Lena.” His beautiful voice croaked through cracked lips. “I’m going to beat the crap out of Niko.”
“You’re not in any condition to beat the crap out of anyone. Although, you’re doing a pretty good job on yourself.” I kneeled in the sand next to him and pushed the sweat-soaked hair off his face. “You stupid, stupid man.”
The corner of his mouth twitched in a sad echo of his luminous smile. “Stupid doesn’t begin to cover it.” A pained expression replaced the almost-smile, a drawn look filled with regret and loss. “I didn’t realize what I had—how lucky I was to have a chance with you.” He swallowed as if trying to contain a wave of nausea. I searched for his hand under the blanket and clutched his cold, sweaty fingers. “There’s nothing for me without you.”
Given his current state, I knew he believed that, however dramatic, and the crack in my heart widened. “How long have you been like this?”
His jaw tensed. “Since that night on the beach. Since I sang to you. But this is nothing I don’t deserve. I shouldn’t have done that, Lena.” Conviction shone bright in his glassy eyes. “It was wrong. I don’t deserve your forgiveness, but please understand, if I could do it over, I wouldn’t have used my voice.”
I sat back on my heels, pinched the bridge of my nose, and sighed. “Yes, you would have. You acted on instinct. You’re a siren. And a siren who happens to be completely out of touch with his feelings. Not exactly a great combination.”
The corner of his mouth lifted again, and his eyes searched mine. “You’re not surprised? You’re—you’re not horrified?”
“No, I’m not horrified. You’re lucky I happen to be an open-minded, spiritually enlightened yoga instructor who was raised by an herbalist.” I winked, and the muscles in his face relaxed. “But surprised? Yeah, at first. Although, I’m not sure surprised covers it. Skeptical and curious, maybe, followed by shocked and royally pissed off. Then resigned. And now accepting. You’re going to have to be patient with me on the understanding part, though.”
“Patient with you? What do you mean?” He swallowed again, but hope danced in his eager eyes.
