I jerk upright, glance across the lake at my tree. My clothes still dangle there, but Erik’s not standing next to them. I blink, then spin around and scan the shore and the tree line.
No Erik.
And then something clicks into place. It feels like when I killed Steven. Like the desire to sing hasn’t just disappeared, but like some deep need has been met. It’s the same strange high that drove me to laugh and splash, feeling weirdly euphoric, while Steven floated facedown, just a few dozen yards from me.
Sudden, rushing panic courses through me. The silence buzzes in my ears as my stomach begins to flip over and over and over.
I twist around, then around again, desperate to figure out where
And that’s when I see the body.
“No!” I scream, the sound more like a wildcat’s scream than my voice. I throw everything into swimming toward the body floating hardly twenty feet from me, facedown, innocent as driftwood. I don’t even stop to see who it is. I just flip the body over and yank on the collar of the shirt, dragging him behind me as I kick, gaining momentum until the water streams by faster than ever. My feet find the ground, and I struggle to get him up onto the shore. For the first time, I look down at the pale face and am met with my worst nightmare.
Cole.
Oh God, no. How did it come to this? I did everything in my power to keep him away from the lake, away from me. I can’t have killed him. I can’t go through the pain of killing someone again.
Cole’s once beautiful hazel eyes are glassy and lifeless, staring upward. His dark curls are plastered to his forehead and temples. His skin is ashy, clammy. He’s not breathing.
I pound on his chest without even thinking. Pinching his nose, I force air into his lungs. It’s exactly like those desperate moments with Steven, when I tried to bring him back, before I realized that the life had already left his once strong body.
This can’t happen. Not again. I won’t let it. I can’t do this, not to Cole, not to the only person who’s tried to get to know me, the real me, in the last two years.
Though I’m breathless myself, I don’t stop. I push against his chest several more times. Just as I lean over to force more air into his lungs, water slides between his lips. And suddenly, he’s coughing.
I jump up and step back, watching as he rolls onto his side, hacking hard, coughing up water. He’s curled over in a fetal position, gasping for breath.
Before I understand what I’m doing, I’m backing up, sliding my clothes off the branch behind me and retreating into the shadows. He pulls his knees underneath him and kneels, still coughing, one hand gripping his stomach, the other sinking into the rocky, muddy shore.
Once the coughing slows, and I know he’s going to be okay, I slip further into the shadows. I disappear, my bare feet picking up a sprint. I dodge tree limbs and roots and rocks, bursting into a frantic run, wishing I could leave the truth behind as easily as I leave Cole hacking up lake water.
The gravel bites into my bare feet, punishing me for my mistakes.
I almost killed.
Sickening dread swirls in my stomach, nearly making me vomit as I reach my car.
I almost killed.
I yank the door open and fall into the seat. Then I curl up into a ball and close my eyes, rocking back and forth.
I almost killed.
Chapter Thirty-One
I stay home sick from school the next day. And in a way, it’s true: I am sick. Sick of the curse. Sick of my life.
I can’t face Cole right now. Not when I know what nearly happened. What I nearly did.
I stay in bed all day as my grandmother’s television blares in the living room. The bowl of soup she gave me sits, cold, on the nightstand next to my bed.
I grip the toy Chevelle in my hand, my thumb sliding over the wheels. Cole nearly joined Steven, six feet under. Because I was too afraid to tell him what I was.
I am supposed to be empty of all feelings, empty of all life. That’s what sirens are in the myths. Killing machines, bent on revenge. But if that’s true, why does the pain in my chest overwhelm me? And why is it that what I want most can’t be met by the siren’s call?
Even Erik wasn’t enough. He was drawn to me just because I was a siren. And that makes him like all the others, even if he knew what he was doing. He wanted me to fix him, and he wanted the life I could give him, but he never really wanted me.
But Cole is different.
And that’s why I’m afraid to see him right now. As long as I don’t face him, as long as I don’t do what I have to do, I can still have the possibility of him. The daydream that he doesn’t sneer and walk away.
But now I know I can’t keep living like this.
I have to tell him.
Tears brim, and I let them slide down my temple, unbidden.
Nothing. That’s what the women in my family get in the end. The guys always leave us far behind when they find out the truth. I don’t know that I can survive that.
I let the tears swallow me whole as I mourn everything I know I’m going to lose once Cole knows.
But then it hits me: Maybe he already does. Maybe he saw me before he drowned, before he mindlessly walked into the lake.
The dreams and hopes that had swelled and grown in the last few weeks shrivel up and die, drowning in my tears.
I turn on my side and hug a pillow against me and let the sobs rack my body, crying so hard it becomes difficult to breathe. I squeeze my eyes shut and wish I could rewind the last month, find the strength to tell him what I should have to begin with.
The next morning, I stand outside the school’s main doors. I didn’t swim last night, which is enough to put me in a foul mood. I nearly went to my lake, but I wasn’t sure what I’d do if Erik were there. If I’d let him hug me, try to take away the pain.
I’m weak. Too weak. And so I stayed away. And now I have a day of classes to get through, and it’s only eight o’clock. I don’t know how I’m going to manage. All I know is that tonight, after all of this is over, I have to go see Cole.
I take in a slow breath and push the heavy entry door open, step into the bustling hallway. Students stream past me, jostling to get to class. They don’t even notice the change in my eyes as they pass me, don’t see that I’m struggling to stay on my feet. I grit my teeth against the pain. It feels as if the carpeted halls are really a gauntlet of broken glass and sharp tin cans splitting the soles of my feet open.
Out of nowhere, a hand clamps onto my wrist. Cold, hard, unwelcome.
I spin around, steeling myself.
But it’s not Cole. It’s Erik. He gives me the strangest look. His eyes are sort of glossed over, a flash of resentment in them. “You were supposed to come over this morning.”
I reach over with my free hand and wrench loose his grip on my arm. “I know, I’m sorry. I’ve had some things to deal with.” I take in his strangely haughty look. I almost don’t recognize him right now. “Look, I’ll talk to you about this later. Soon, okay? Just not right now. I have too much going on.”
That same look flares again, and something inside me shrinks back. I feel a little guilty, but I need to just get through today, make sure Cole is alive and breathing.
I’m still standing close to Erik, so close it wouldn’t take a single step for me to kiss him, when Cole’s hazel
