Cheryl sat up straight. “I’m a Siren! Well, kind of. I just sing and everyone kind of passes out from the pain. Sometimes they die if they make me sing for longer than a minute.”
My brow shot up in surprise. Her voice killed people? How...appropriate.
“Oh?” I asked, trying not to laugh at the irony of her demon. I’d been saying for years that her voice would be the death of me, and now it could actually come to fruition.
“Yeah. They make me sing. A lot. They just cart humans in, then wheel them away. It’s awful, Motley. A lot of them d-die.”
My mouth dropped open in shock. I’d been so caught up in the evil, violating things Spector did to me and the guys, that I didn’t stop to think about what everyone else was going through. I looked around and observed my peers. When we first got here, there was a sense of pride and excitement. But slowly, the numbers thinned, and people had clearly lost their enthusiasm. I hadn’t even noticed the silence of the room or the dull way people stared at their food.
I reached across the table and grabbed Cheryl’s hand, giving it a friendly squeeze. “I’m really sorry they made you do that. Are you okay?” I asked.
She swallowed before looking at where our hands connected before shaking her head. For once, Cheryl was speechless. She had nothing to say, but the regret and sadness was written on her perfect face. She pulled her hand back and wiped her eyes, somehow strategically smoothing her blurred makeup in the process.
“Anyway. What do they do to you?” she asked, changing the subject and making a pit of shame fill me up.
I debated on telling her a lie, but ultimately settled on the truth. After all, she’d told me about her demon, so it only seemed fair. “It’s complicated. Basically I fuck people to death,” I replied, though it felt like a hollow explanation. What I did was far more gruesome than I could ever really articulate.
Cheryl’s eyes widened, and she let out a puff of air, as if debating on how to respond. “So let me get this straight. Your vagina kills people, and my voice makes their ears bleed. We’d make one hell of a porno, spider girl,” she teased before taking another sip of her own bloody drink.
I let out a short chuckle, relieved that she was making light of our conversation. I had expected her to gasp and tell me how terrible I was. Maybe Spector had matured her some.
“So you’re not scared of me?” I asked. For some reason, I needed her acceptance. I’d been so worked up over my demon that I was clinging to anyone that didn’t run away screaming. It was nice not to be feared.
“Why would I be scared? It’s not like I have a desire to fuck you. I mean, maybe if you made an effort with your appearance.” She looked me up and down with a frown. “But even then, it would take some serious alcohol before I could even consider it. I still think you should give bangs another shot. I really liked that look on you. It was so chic. You should let me give you another makeover,” she said decisively.
“A makeover? You cut my hair in my sleep, Cheryl,” I deadpanned, cringing at the memory of that terrible haircut I had my first year at Thibault.
“And it looked fabulous,” she replied with a smile.
I rolled my eyes, but a small smile graced my lips too. “I looked ridiculous,” I replied.
We laughed for a bit, then settled in awkward silence, like we weren’t sure what to do with this newfound truce. Cheryl finally spoke, though. She never was good with silence. “The thing is, I don’t think my parents are going to come for me, Motley. Hell, they couldn’t even be bothered to attend my graduation.” Cheryl looked off in the distance, and surprisingly, I felt bad for her. I hadn’t realized that her parents didn’t show up. In fact, for all her talk of her parents, I hadn’t seen them once during our five years at Thibault. “We need each other if we’re going to survive this place. I mean, this is worse than Jeremy Lovit’s bar mitzvah. And my dress ripped, Motley.”
I shook my head with a quirk of my lips. Cheryl might be annoying as hell, but she had a point. If I wanted to get out of here, I’d have to build alliances. Besides, she’d already befriended some of the guards. This truce would be good.
“Stiles has been training with me. I made his ears bleed,” she said with a hint of pride.
At the mention of my half-brother, a sour taste filled my mouth, and I completely lost my appetite. Although, hearing that he was stuck with Cheryl’s deadly screams made me feel a little bit better.
“Where is Stiles, anyway?” I asked. “I haven’t seen him since we got here.”
A dark look crossed Cheryl’s face, and she crossed her arms over her chest. I knew that look. She gave it to Mary Catherine our second year at Thibault when she tried to date Brandon Cooper, a senior vamp with more money than he knew what to do with. Cheryl had been pissed since she’d claimed him for herself.
“Why do you want to know?” she asked with irritation. “We’ve been getting very close lately. He’s been totally kind, bringing me clothes and helping me understand my powers. I really hope you don’t have a crush on him, Motley, because it’s obvious he likes me.”
I wasn’t completely sure
