Chapter Fifteen

The Siren

I winced as the briefcase made contact with the agent’s face and an awful cracking sound ensued. Something heavy dropped to the ground as a nasty curse word rang through the air.

The wind whistled under the gargantuan bridge as two men grappled against the car’s side, their movements shaking its interior. A gun fired once—twice. Three times.

A body slid against the window with a soft squealing sound. And a groan.

When I opened my eyes again, Colt was kneeling on the ground in the doorway of the jalopy, his chest rising and falling rapidly.

After catching his breath, he finally moved in to untie the gag around my mouth. It loosened and fell to my lap.

“Are you ready, Eris?” he asked, still breathless from the fight he’d just initiated.

My hands shook. “Ready for what?”

“To fight for your freedom.”

As I stared at him, attempting to process each word, he pulled out a switchblade he must’ve stolen from one of the agents and quickly cut through the ropes around my wrists. They slid from my hands like snakes and dropped to the floor of the jalopy.

“But you said I was too dangerous,” I said, my voice hoarse.

“You are,” Colt said with a jerky nod, his expression more troubled than I’d ever seen it—even when he’d been shot and was bleeding out on the veterinarian’s steel table.

I didn’t understand. “Then…why?”

He gripped my hands, pulling me near, gently. The pebbles under his knee crunched as he shifted closer. The rim of his hat nudged my forehead and pushed the fedora up slightly so I could see more of his dark brown irises.

“When I went to The Blind Dragon, I was expecting to find a monster. What I found…was you.”

Without a second thought, I threw my arms around his neck, burying my face in his good shoulder. Tears leaked out and dampened his soft collar. They’d been threatening to fall for some time. Through everything, I’d held them back, but now I no longer could.

Surprisingly, he was incredibly stiff under my arms. With his handsome face, I would’ve taken him as used to having women throw themselves at him.

Embarrassed, I drew back, wiping my tears with the back of my hand. With a soft chuckle, he picked up the handkerchief that had been looped around my neck.

“Here, doll.”

I took the cloth and wiped at my eyes and runny nose. My neck flushed from the affectionate tone. Had he even noticed it himself?

“We should get going,” he said, turning businesslike once more. “Before they wake up.”

One of the reasons I’d decided to go along with the BOI was because I had agreed with them. I was dangerous to the people around me. But…but I didn’t want to be. Didn’t that count for something?

And maybe I could change. Maybe I could finally learn how to control this power in a way I’d never dreamed.

Obviously Colt had to believe it was possible, otherwise he wouldn’t be helping me.

I owed it to myself to at least try.

“I’m ready,” I said, my voice muffled behind the handkerchief. Then I lifted my puffy eyes up to Colt’s and lowered the cloth. “To fight.”

A small smile tugged at the corner of his lips. “Let’s hit the road, then.”

We left the BOI agents untied and leaning against one of the giant pillars of the Delaware River Bridge, a hundred cars and however many more tons hanging above their heads. But we took their black jalopy.

Colt was a good driver. He expertly shifted the stick and peeled out onto the road, a cloud of dust flying up behind us. In no time, the great city of Philadelphia was only a small dot in the mirrors. Like on the train, we rode in silence, a new uncharted territory stretched between us.

While Colt had been maneuvering through the complicated streets of Philly, I’d kept quiet, knowing he had to concentrate on driving. But now that we were on the open road, driving past fields and rolling hills, shifting from a summer green to an autumn gold, I had to know his plan. When he asked if I was ready to fight, what had he truly meant? Did it mean he actually wanted me to use my voice?

“So where are we headed?” I asked over the rumble of the jalopy’s engine and the whistle of wind through cracked windows.

“Chicago.”

The name of the Windy City gave me chills. I shrank back in my seat, pressing myself against the door as if I suddenly wanted to jump out…and I greatly considered it.

Chicago was New York City’s twin in crime and nightlife. In gangsters and rum-running. In murder and most assuredly, now that I knew they existed, monsters.

Colt cast me a sideways glance and frowned. “I know you don’t like large cities, but there’s someone who might be able to help us figure out who’s after you.”

“So you’re…you’re really planning to find out who put my pearl in?” I swallowed, feeling the magical object in question on my tongue.

“If we ran, they’d find us. Somehow they’ve been able to track you ever since you left The Blind Dragon. It’s only a matter of time before they send someone to Philly. We need to stay one step ahead. If you really want to be free, we have to stop whoever’s after you.”

“Maybe they found me like you found me and just followed us around Boston.”

A muscle ticked in Colt’s jaw as he pressed the gas a little harder, and the engine roared beneath. “Maybe. But if they found you at the Dragon then why didn’t they make their move sooner? They wouldn’t have cared if they captured an innocent girl, and they also could’ve recognized you. Instead, they wait until you’re in the hands of a BOI agent? No, I think they didn’t know where you were until you started speaking at the hotel.”

“Is that why they shot up the room? Because they wanted to get to me?”

“That doesn’t make much sense, either. They don’t want to kill you, they want to kidnap you. Call me paranoid, but I think there might be two groups after you.”

“Three. You’re forgetting about the BOI.”

Colt didn’t say anything for a long while. Finally, he replied, “McCarney’s top priority is national security. He’ll do whatever it takes.”

“McCarney?” I asked.

“Director McCarney of the Specialized Organized Crime Division of the Bureau of Investigation. He’s a bit to me like Madame Maldu is to you…a foster parent. He watched out for me when I was recruited by the SOCD.”

“And you betrayed him.” The words were out before I could take them back. “For me.”

Colt’s hands clenched on the wheel and he squinted at the road ahead. Silent.

I licked my lips and tucked a loose piece of hair behind my ear. “I’m sorry—”

“Eris.” My name was harsh, gruff. Almost like a growl. “Don’t apologize. It’s my decision. Not yours to bear.”

My gaze shifted back to the endless stretch of asphalt leading us to a city of demons and monsters. I wanted, more than anything, to be going in the opposite direction.

I took a deep breath. Fight. That’s what I was going to do now.

“The point is, once you started speaking and using your power, your creator might have found you through a trace in your magic.”

“But I’ve spoken a few times before.”

“How often and how many words?”

I thought back to the incidents over the years. “Maybe five times since being at The Blind Dragon. Never more than a sentence at a time.”

“I think that’s what’s different. At the hotel, you talked for ten minutes, saying over two hundred words. The whole room was full of magic.”

A jolt of realization went through me and I whispered, “Does that mean I shouldn’t—”

Colt reached over and grabbed my hand, squeezing it.

The gesture was so surprising a wave of shivers went up my arm.

“No, keep talking. What’s done is done, and besides, if you have a voice, you should be able to use it. No one should take that from you.”

I bit my bottom lip, thinking over his words as he let go of my hand and returned both to the steering wheel. So many silent years…he was right. All along, I’d wanted to be heard.

“But tracing my power…how is that even possible?” I asked.

“Whenever monsters are made there’s a special substance used to fuse their human nervous system with that of a monster’s properties. They call it the chimera agent. It was essentially the piece of the puzzle that allowed humans to survive once monster parts were infused with them.”

“Chimera? I don’t know that word.”

“It’s what we are,” Colt said with a heavy sigh.

Before I could ask what he meant by we, Colt continued, “In the Greek myths, a chimera is a monster that has different animal parts all fused together to make one creature. A lion’s head on a goat’s body with a serpent’s tail.”

“Sounds horrific.”

He blew out a tired laugh. “It is. But it’s also special because of its ability to possess multiple animal genes.” His gaze cut to me quickly, then went back to the road. “Do you know what genetics is?”

I lifted my shoulder in a half shrug. “Vaguely. It’s what makes up a family tree, right?”

“Yes, parents pass on traits to their children and we call them genes. So all humans have genes like brown hair or blue eyes, but humans with monster parts also contain monster genes. Monster genes make us chimeras because, like the monster itself, it means we possess two kinds of genetics—monster and human.”

“That’s unbelievable.”

“But possible. It’s a breakthrough science. Decades ahead of its time, but that’s the world we live in. Men with money can buy anything. Even the most brilliant scientists on the planet.”

“So what does this have to do with my creator and the fact that he could find me?”

“Right.” Colt tapped his fingers on the steering wheel. “Well, when the first experiments to fuse a monster part with a human failed, they realized it was because humans were unable to support both gene types. So they inserted the blood of a monster that can possess different genes—”

“A chimera,” I whispered, unable to keep the horror out of my voice.

Colt nodded. “They inserted chimera blood into humans, and if the blood didn’t kill them, then they were able to be fused with a monster part.”

Rearing back, my gut clenched and rolled with disgust. The pastrami on rye sandwich now seemed like a terrible idea as my poor stomach wanted to reject it. Breathing in through my nose, I tried to sweep the nausea away.

“You’re…you’re saying I have both a chimera and a siren inside me?”

Colt nodded, his jaw still clenched. He looked just as disgusted as I felt.

“Over the years, scientists have tampered with the chimera’s blood, trying to make it more adaptable to humans. There’s hundreds of versions of chimera agents out there, so it’s possible that your agent had been infused with some other monster’s genes that allows it to be trackable somehow.”

“Trackable by what?”

“I’m not entirely sure. But as long as the BOI have been fighting monsters, we’ve always been a step behind. Maybe not for every drop or stakeout or mission, but there’ve been times when…” He trailed off. Then he cleared his throat and his grip twisting on the steering wheel made a squeaking noise. “Regardless, I believe they’ll be able to find you, no matter where you go. The only reason the BOI was able to find you was because another agent had been in The Blind Dragon the night you stopped a bullet.”

“So we’re going to Chicago because someone there might know how my creator is tracking me?”

A corner of his lips quirked into a half smile. “Now you’re on the trolley.”

America’s wilderness, or what I could see of it from the front seat of a car, was everything I’d dreamed it to be. I rode with my face pressed against the glass, staring out at the Pennsylvania countryside and drinking in the view like I was a drunkard off his ten-hour shift tossing back a few rounds of corn.

Fields of color looked like an artist had dropped his paint can and splashed coat upon coat of rich autumn hues. Dark evergreen boughs and brilliant red maple leaves, golden rows of wheat, and pure white wildflowers dotted amidst emerald green. The chill in the autumn air told me they wouldn’t last much longer, so I thanked God that I had the chance to see them now.

Colt let me look on, driving in silence. He was a constant presence in my mind, but not an imposing or unwelcome one.

For the first time in seven years I could finally, finally talk to someone. The fella next to me was immune to the charms of my voice. I should have been talking his ears off.

But I wasn’t.

The impulse to stay quiet was deeply ingrained, a part of my bloodstream like the need to sing. For so long I’d resisted the urge to talk, and now that I finally had the chance to, I had no idea what to say.

I wanted to ask him everything—starting with what he was, and then questions such as, what was it like to work for the BOI and hunt monsters? Where had he grown up? What places had he been to? How did he become such a good fighter? Did he step into the boxing ring for some extra cash like Stanley?

And yet my tongue seemed glued to the roof of my mouth, resting against my pearl. That blasted thing that everyone wanted so much.

That’s when I had a question I had to ask.

“Can’t I just remove it?”

Colt flinched at the sound of my voice, almost like he’d forgotten I was there. “Remove what?” he asked.

“The pearl. Can we get a dentist to take it out or something?”

A single beat passed, like the beat in a song, before Colt shifted gears and braked, swerving onto the shoulder of the road. It was so sudden, my hands flew to the door to keep me from sliding off the seat and in case I needed a quick escape.

Colt twisted toward me, fixing me with an intense stare. “Never, ever get your pearl taken out.”

“W-Why? What will happen?”

“Well, you could die, for one,” Colt growled. “It’s not a tooth extraction, Eris. It’s part of you. It would be like removing an organ and trying to ankle your way down Times Square at five o’clock.”

“How do you know? Have other monsters had their parts…removed and survived?”

Colt turned back to face the front, then looked out his driver side window. “Just…trust me on this one. Removing the part won’t stop you from being a monster.”

Scanning him up and down, it hit me. I was like one of the bugs on our windshield. I hadn’t seen it coming.

He’d had his part removed. Whatever it had been, on wherever, was gone.

I gaped at him, for an incredibly rude amount of time. Even when he calmly put the car back into drive, checked over his shoulder and pulled onto the road, I was still staring.

He probably guessed I’d more or less figured it out, and I wondered if he was just waiting for me to ask all the questions running through my head.

What had he removed? How had he removed it? How had he survived it if it was so terrible?

Balling my hands into fists in my lap, I remained silent. Sometimes, being trained not to speak was a good thing.

We didn’t talk again until a gas station came up on the side of the road and Colt turned into it.

I was relieved we stopped. I had to iron my shoelaces, and my legs were getting antsy with the need to get up and walk a bit.

As he pulled next to a pump and shut off the engine, I opened the door. “I’m going to freshen up.”

Colt merely nodded as the gas attendant who’d been snoozing in the shade perked up and started toward the car.

I was two steps away when he called me back. “Eris.”

I turned and tried to give him a reassuring smile. “I’m not going to go anywhere.”

He was leaning over the car top, and at my words, he shook his head with a chuckle. “I wasn’t worried about that. Here.” He held out a crisp dollar bill. “Get us a couple of Cokes.”

I crossed back to the car and slid the bill from between his fingers and waved it with a small smile. “You don’t want some coffee? It’s a long drive.”

He tipped back his hat, giving me a better view of his face. “The drive’ll be duck soup. Besides, you know I prefer tea.”

I folded the bill once, twice, then tucked it into the pocket of my apron and met his gaze. “Do I?” I asked. He had been playing a part at The Blind Dragon. Everything I knew about him could be a lie.

Any hint of a smile dropped from his face.

Before I could take it back, I turned on my heel and entered the store. As the door swung shut behind me, the little bell went off. A bored clerk raised his head from his magazine, then returned to reading when he saw me make my way toward the restroom.

After washing my hands and splashing some cool water on my face, I looked at my reflection in the mirror.

The girl who stared back had on a wrinkled maid’s uniform, mussed-up waves, and dark circles under her eyes.

I slapped my cheeks and pinched them to give them some color but it was a useless endeavor. I was a right mess. And very tired. I hadn’t slept in well over twenty-four hours and on top of that whenever I spoke too much the magic in my voice seemed to double my fatigue. Not by a lot, but noticeably.

It was almost sundown. I couldn’t believe that just last night I’d been in the Dragon serving drinks as usual. But with everything that happened since the moment I’d stepped into the alley, it felt like a lifetime.

Threading my damp fingers through my hair, I took one long, deep breath then headed back out into the store. The clerk hadn’t moved. Unsurprisingly. But what I hadn’t noticed before I walked into the restroom was a phone in the dimly lit hallway to my right.

A phone.

Since I was no longer going to DC, I couldn’t very well follow my original plan to call Madame from a BOI cell block.

A powerful force rose inside me that threatened to knock me over. Longing. Since the very beginning of this wild journey, I’d tried hard not to think about Madame, Stanley, and my beloved little band—Marv, Francis, David—because I knew that life was gone. If I went back, I’d endanger all of them. But now that I was here, standing before a phone, knowing that their voices were merely a call away, I missed them more than I’d ever dreamed possible.

Moving quickly, and not second-guessing my impulse decision, I pulled two Cokes out of the cooler and set them on the clerk’s counter with a loud clack, clack of glass hitting wood.

Almost irritated that I’d interrupted his precious reading time, the older balding man looked up from his copy of Time magazine.

“I’d like to purchase these, please.”

The clerk leaped into action, his hands moving fast to type out numbers in the register and whip out a paper bag for my purchase—all rushed, hurried, almost panicked movements.

My own anxiety had forced him to move quickly and desperately. This knowledge churned my insides as he took my dollar and handed me back my change—a pile of coins that felt cold in my hot palm.

With my change in one hand and my paper bag of chilled Cokes in the other, I hurried back to the hallway and inserted two nickels into the old pay phone.

“Hello, operator, how may I direct your call?”

I gave the only number I knew. The phone in Madame Maldu’s parlor.

My heart pounded like the short, blaring trumpet blasts in “Shanghai Shuffle.” Would she even answer? I didn’t have time to wait around and call again. Colt could be back any moment.

The phone rang and rang through the receiver, and with each ring my heart dropped lower and lower. Just when I thought it was useless, the phone line clicked and there was a deep, “Hello?” on the other end.

Stan.

“Hello, Stan? It’s me,” I said quickly, then, realizing that he may have heard me talk only once before, I added, “Eris.”

“Eris?” The voice was breathless. Shocked. “You…you’re talking. Where are you, kid? Are you all right?”

“I’m safe,” I answered, giving him the best, shortest answer I could. “I just…I just wanted to let you and Madame know that. So you wouldn’t be worried about me.”

“Of course we’re worried.” Each syllable sounded strained. “Tell me where you are. Whatever trouble you’re in, we can get you out of it. I’ll come get you right now.”

My eyes burned and I squeezed the cord between my fingers. I opened my mouth a few times, but only squeaking came out. I missed him so much, but how could I tell him the truth? That I was a monster and on the run with another monster who hunted monsters?

“Eris? You still there, kid? Don’t go silent on me now.”

Resting my forehead against the top of the phone box, I swallowed. “Stan, I need to speak to Madame. Can you put her on the phone for me?”

“She’s…” A long silence on the other end and my heart pounded painfully.

“She’s what?”

Across the store, a bell dinged. It was unlikely the lazy clerk had stepped out, so someone must have entered. Colt.

“She…well, she went to New York to look for you, kid.”

“What?”

“She went to New York to look for you,” Stan repeated in an almost mechanical tone, and I realized I’d made him do so.

I cursed the magic in my voice and stamped my foot, just as I noticed Colt’s gray fedora move over the tops of the aisles, making its way toward the back.

Sending a silent prayer of forgiveness, to God, to Stan, to whoever might be listening, I magicked my bartender with a purposeful command. “Stanley, don’t try to look for me. Tell Madame that I’m fine and that she should come home. And…be careful. Stay safe.”

I could imagine Stan in the parlor, the phone to his ear, staring into space, letting my command wash over him and seep into his bones.

Pushing through my sudden wave of exhaustion, I hung up the phone and hurried through the aisles, nearly colliding into Colt. He grabbed me by the elbows as my short heels slipped on the waxed wood floor, just before I twisted an ankle.

“Easy,” Colt said as he steadied me. “Worried I’d leave without you? I’m the one always after you, remember?” Before I could respond, he gave a nod toward the restrooms. “Just hang tight. I’ll be right back.”

Standing there in the aisle, I scrubbed hard at my eyes, turning the dark circles into red blotches.

Talking to Stan had been one of the hardest things I’d ever done in my life, and for as long as I could remember, I’d always wanted to talk to him. The irony was painful.

Leaving him, and Madame, and my band was excruciating. But now Madame wouldn’t have to worry about me and she could live her quietly glamorous life of speakeasies and rum-running. Even a life of crime had to be safer than a life with a monster.

With a heavy sigh, I stumbled my way back to the car and slipped into the passenger seat. Colt came out a few minutes later, but instead of going straight for the driver’s side, he looped around the car and opened my door. Kneeling down in the dusty parking lot, he reached into a brown paper bag he’d been carrying and pulled out a clean white roll of gauze and a small tin of ointment. I recognized it as a salve for burns.

My rope burns.

Entranced, I watched as with gentle fingers, Colt took my right wrist and rubbed the salve over my red, raw skin. Then he did the other one, methodically, covering each inch where the binds had made their marks. His thumb brushed over my pulse and I swear it skipped.

I swallowed while he wrapped strips of the gauze around my wrists. My skin tingled from either the salve, or his touch—I honestly couldn’t be sure which.

Then, without a word, he stood and moved back around the car to slide behind the wheel. It was only by the time he peeled out onto the highway did I realize I hadn’t even thanked him.

But I couldn’t somehow. Not because I didn’t want to, but because if I spoke I might start crying again. Oddly, the tears wouldn’t even be for me, but for Colt. I’d been so obsessed with my own little family, I hadn’t even thought of what he was leaving behind as well.

That McCarney cat or whoever he was… Not only would Colt never see him again, but Colt had betrayed someone who was like a father to him. All for my sake.

So even though he’d manipulated me in the past, fooled me into thinking he was a nice fella who liked orange pekoe…when someone turns their back on their whole world for you—the people they cared for, their job, and their beliefs…

Then they deserved a second chance.