Humans who were aware of the Beneath usually knew about the forerunners of paranormal society, the obvious races; loups (don't call them werewolves, they hate that), other shapeshifters, and blooders. Sometimes they knew about fairies, but the Shining Ones were really good at covering their tracks, so that was rare. What was even more rare was when humans were acquainted with the other races; gods, witches, demons, dragons, angels, and so forth. Things that went bump in the night, and did a fair amount of rabble rousing during the day as well. We just knew how to hide our supernatural gifts better than the shifters and blooders.
“A friend of mine told me about you. He said you were the best. That you never failed,” MacLaine's face started to fall into the sharp lines that always preceded my revelation of the Beneath. It was like they could sense I was about to tell them something that would change their entire life. Or at least their ability to sleep through the night.
“That's true,” I agreed. “So you know about vampires. What else do you know?”
“What else?” He scowled. “The shapeshifters, of course.”
“And that's it?”
“There's more?” MacLaine's eyes widened.
“Oh yes,” I smirked. “There's quite a bit more. But that's not for me to reveal. I only have the right to tell you about my own kind. Now, do you know what a siren is, Mr. MacLaine?”
“Like in the Odyssey?”
“Yes, exactly,” I smiled, relieved that I wouldn't have to explain everything. “My mother's people are considered to be a class of god. They were minor deities, more like an entourage to the more powerful gods, but still considered a divine race.”
“Are you seriously telling me you're descended from gods?” He started to stand.
I quickly sang the lyrics from Hollow Point Heroes' “Sit Down Shut Up.”
I had a whole arsenal of quick-draw lyrics just like this one, ready to be shot out like a bullet when necessary. I didn't even need the song to say exactly what I wanted to accomplish. All that I needed was one word to work with–sit, dance, die. You know, the usual. And then I could visualize, and direct the magic from there. This particular lyric just happened to work really well. And you'd be surprised how often I employed it.
MacLaine froze, his eyes going wide with horror as his body disobeyed him, and plopped back into the chair. He leaned forward onto his forearms, and regarded me intently. Giving me his full attention, just as I'd commanded.
“Good.” I pushed down the power that rose whenever I began to sing. “Now, don't look at me like that. You're perfectly safe. I simply needed to demonstrate what I could do before you wrote me off as insane. I put no permanence into the spell so the effects will wear off momentarily.”
“What did you just do to me?” Adam strained to push his words past the weakening magic.
“I'm getting to that,” I smiled. It wasn't often that I got a chance to talk about my heritage. “As I was saying, my ancestors were minor deities, companions of the goddess, Persephone. You do know who Persephone is?”
“Yes.” He sighed deeply as the effects of my spell wore off. “I didn't think she was real, but yeah, I'm familiar with her myths.”
“Oh, she's very real.” I laughed to think of what Persephone's reaction to his disbelief would have been.
She just couldn't accept that people didn't believe in the gods anymore. I told her she was in denial, and she told me there were several rivers in the Underworld, but the Nile was not one of them. The Greek goddess has a silly sense of humor.
“When Hades did his little abduction routine, Persephone's mother, Demeter, enlisted the aid of my family to find her daughter,” I said. “She gave them wings, and bade them to search the world for Persephone.”
“I've never heard that part of the story.” He was relaxing more and more now that it was apparent that I wasn't going to attack him. “They never found her, I imagine.”
“No, Persephone wasn't in the world. She was with Hades, in his domain. So my ancestors failed,” I confirmed, “and Demeter cursed them for it. They were turned into sirens–women who sing eternally to their missing mistress, begging for her to return home.”
“I thought the sirens were mermaids who lured men to their deaths.”
“They're closer to birds than mermaids, but they do lure men to their deaths,” I said. “Their song is so beautiful, few can resist its pull, but it's also tragic. And tragedy can only create more tragedy.”
“Are you saying that you're a siren?” MacLaine cocked his head at me, fascinated, when really, he should have been afraid.
“No, only part,” I shook my head. “The other part of me is witch.”
“What? Like a Wiccan?”
I burst into laughter, and he scowled at me.
“No, Mr. MacLaine,” I got my humor under control. “Real witches are nothing like those tree-hugging, circle dancers. They're a separate race entirely, grisly and powerful. People you should hope to never encounter. My mother lured one of them to her, but he was strong enough to withstand the pull of death in her voice. In fact, he decided he quite liked her, and her music. He married her.”
“You're the child of a warlock and a siren?” MacLaine's voice rose in shock.
“The word 'warlock' means liar. Oathbreaker, from the Saxon waerloga. Male witches are still called witches.”
“Oh.”
“Yes.”
“So you're the daughter of a siren and a witch?”
“Yes.”
“Oh. Um.” He chewed at his lower lip a bit. “What does that mean exactly? What does that make you?”
“It makes me rare, Mr. MacLaine,” I smiled slowly. “Very rare.”
“And you can sing people to death?”
“I can do much more than that,” I decided to put him
