Adrianne walked through the door of her grandmother’s house and was immediately knocked flat on her back as a five-foot-two, one hundred pound, fourteen-year-old ball of pure sunshine flew into her arms.
Haven squealed and squeezed the air out of Adrianne’s lungs. “I can’t believe you’re finally here! I’ve missed you so much! I am never, never, ever letting you leave again!”
Adrianne spit out a mouthful of Haven’s thick, dark hair (the gorgeous natural color of which Adrianne would kill for) and let out a laugh that sounded more like a wheeze. “It’s good to see you, too, kid.”
Riddick leaned over and yanked Adrianne up off the floor with Haven still clinging to her like a spider monkey. “Haven, you need to let her breathe, baby,” he said.
Haven rolled her big green eyes, but did let go so that Adrianne could suck in a deep breath. That one breath would have to hold her for a while, though, because she was then grabbed by her grandmother.
With her cloud of cotton candy-esqe blonde curls and five-foot-nothing stature, Tina Petrocelli was deceptively soft looking. No one would guess she was the most accurate empath in, well, the world, that she was Harper Hall’s mother, or that she worked at Section, evaluating which recruits were battle ready, and which needed to find other work.
But anyone hugging Tina knew just how physically strong she was. And Adrianne could attest to the fact that her grandmother was scarily, bone-crushingly strong.
“It’s about damn time you came home,” Tina whispered in her ear. “You shouldn’t have waited so long.”
“I know,” Adrianne whispered back, letting the familiar scent of Tina’s perfume wash over her.
Tina pulled back and gave her an assessing look. “You don’t have anything to worry about, you know. We’re all going to keep you safe.”
Geez, did the family members of empaths ever get used to being around someone who could sense every fleeting emotion they had? Adrianne sure hadn’t.
But, as always, she rolled with the weirdness. Tina meant well. And for the most part, Adrianne believed her. These people—everyone in Section, actually—would do their best to keep her safe.
Knowing that didn’t stop her from remembering her vision, seeing herself engulfed in flames.
She offered her grandmother her biggest, nearly sincere smile, though. “I know you will. That’s why I’m here."
Haven snorted. “That’s not the only reason.”
Riddick frowned. “What are you talking about? Why else would she have come home now?”
Harper swatted her daughter on the back of the head with an open palm, causing Haven to yelp and give her a what-the-hell look. “Don’t go there,” Harper warned. “It’s none of your business.”
Haven rubbed the back of her head and frowned. “You tell people whenever you have visions about them, even when it’s none of your business.”
“It’s never any of her business,” Tina said, giving Harper a pointed look. “But you’re right. She does.”
Harper frowned right back at her daughter. “I’m a grown-up. I’ve been a psychic longer than you’ve been alive. I can tell people whatever I want. You’re just a kid. You need to be careful.”
Riddick rubbed his temples like he had the mother of all migraines brewing before saying, “While I agree that blurting out details of your visions might not always be a good idea, if it’s about Addy, maybe we need to hear it. Especially given the reason she’s here?”
Tina waved a hand dismissively. “It’s nothing related to her safety. Haven’s talking about that Gabriel nonsense again.”
Adrianne felt her blood run cold. Oh, no, they were not going to discuss this again. Over her dead body would they—
“It’s not nonsense!” Haven blurted out. “I’m telling you all, Gabriel is going to marry Addy!”
Adrianne’s chin hit her chest. Damn it all to hell.
She’d spent the entirety of her teenage years praying that Haven’s vision of her marrying Gabriel was right. But when he soundly (and she did mean soundly) rejected her six years ago, all hope of that ever happening went right out the window. So, talking about this now, in front of her dad, no less, was beyond mortifying.
But Riddick, surprisingly, took it in stride. “That’s not going to happen,” he said with a confidence that Adrianne thought was a little insulting.
“Oh, it will,” Haven muttered. “You all just wait and see. I’m never wrong.”
Harper patted her shoulder. “Everyone’s wrong sometimes. No psychic is perfect. There’s nothing to be embarrassed about.”
“I’m not embarrassed because I’m not wrong!”
Tina turned to Riddick. “What makes you so sure it won’t happen?”
“Because if he touches my daughter, I’ll strangle him with his own intestines.”
“Ew,” Harper said, wrinkling her nose, just as Haven did the same and added, “Daddy, that’s so gross.”
Well, if that wasn’t her cue to change the subject, Adrianne wasn’t sure what was. “So, what’s the plan? Now that I’m here, what do you want me to do?”
Harper sighed. “Well, I hate to say it, but I think we need to try to trigger more of your visions. Maybe if you had another vision, you’d see more details that would help us figure out who opened this rift you saw and why.”
On the inside, Adrianne winced. She was not looking forward to more details of her own fiery death. But on the outside, for her father’s sake, she kept her expression impassive. “OK. How do you think we can trigger more visions?”
Harper’s teasing smile made her decidedly edgy. “Well, when in your life would you say you had the most visions?”
Adrianne thought about it for a moment, then groaned. “You’re not suggesting…”
“Yep,” Harper said, making a popping sound on the “p”. “Time to go back to demon hunting school, Addy.”
Demon hunting school. Her life had officially circled back to when she was an awkward, love-struck teenager.
Fucking perfect.
That night, Adrianne drifted in and out of sleep. Her dreams were a jumbled mess of fire, pain, memories of her teenage years, loneliness…and Gabriel.
It was always Gabriel.
Suddenly the weight of her comforter felt like a boa constrictor wrapped around her throat. Tossing the offending fabric to the floor, she sat up and hugged her knees.
How could she be home, here with everyone she loved, and be this lonely and miserable?
Ridiculous. That’s what it was. So many people in the world had it worse. So, she had visions of her own death. So what? She had the best team of experts in the world here to help her.
So, she was in love with someone who didn’t love her back. What difference did it make in the big picture?
What she really needed was release. And since the super fun kind of release wasn’t going to happen anytime soon (not under her parent’s roof, at least, because that just felt wrong), Adrianne needed to turn to the one thing that had never failed her in the past.
Music.
She slipped a robe on over her tank top and sleep shorts and made her way as quietly as possible out of the house. Hopefully, her piano was still in the school on the far side of the training campus.
Section 8 during the day was bustling and loud—in constant motion. But at night…oh, the night. Nighttime here was like a symphony that’d been written just for her. Crickets’ song, the gentle breeze ruffling through the trees that surrounded the compound, the burbling of the nearby river—it was beautiful, and at the risk of sounding like a complete hippie poet, it spoke to her soul.
The school wasn’t locked, thankfully. Breaking and entering on her first night home wasn’t exactly how she wanted to mark the occasion.
Her breath caught in her throat when she found her piano exactly where she’d left it six years ago.
The antique rosewood Steinway grand was a piece of art. Her father had bought it for her on her fourteenth birthday. She really didn’t want to know what he’d paid for it, but she’d spent so many hours parked in front of this instrument that it almost felt like part of her family.
Running her hands lovingly over the keys, she sat down at the bench, feeling like an idiot as tears rose to her eyes.
Now she was truly home.
It only took one chord to realize her father had kept this baby tuned in her absence. His thoughtfulness never ceased to amaze her.
“I’ve missed you, friend,” she whispered.
Then she closed her eyes and started to play.
An hour passed. Then two. Her fingers never stopped moving. She played until her muscles ached and sweat beaded on her brow. Her hair flew as she pounded the keys, pouring every bit of her passion into the music.
This was the passion she wanted to give to Gabriel. The passion he wouldn’t accept from her. It all had to go somewhere, and this song of her own creation was the perfect place to let it explode from her heart and soul.
She played until she was the music. They were one in the same.
Chords crashed as the song came to an almost violent crescendo and her eyes fluttered open.
Gabriel was there.
She blinked a few times, expecting him to disappear. But it wasn’t her imagination. He was really there, leaning against the wall, shirt unbuttoned, hair disheveled like he’d just rolled out of bed.
Like her music had drawn him to her.
Siren song.
Her fingers kept moving of their own volition. She never missed a note, even as her eyes locked on his.
His gaze was dark. Dangerous. Flames flared to life in his eyes.
He knew. She could tell that he did. He knew what her song meant. What she wanted.
And in that moment, he wanted to give it to her.
They had an entire conversation without saying a word. Everything she was feeling, he was feeling, too. Longing, regret, temptation, need—it was all there in his eyes as their souls spoke through the music.
Adrianne closed her eyes for a moment, and when she reopened them, he was gone.
So much for siren song.