Siren's Song (43 page)

She nods before I can finish. “The curse is broken. Not just for Lucas Macleod, but also for Taylin and Mathias.”

“They can love?”

Alba smiles widely and nods. “Yes, and despite their mistrust, we are trying to help them assimilate into normal lives.” Her one eyebrow rises high. “It's not going to be easy.” I look confused. “Love comes with a whole onslaught of emotions—regret, guilt, sorrow, elation, passion. They haven't felt these emotions, at least not in their pure forms, in over eleven lifetimes. Taylin, especially, is…having problems.”

“God,” I murmur. Taylin had problems to start with.

Alba pats my arm and stands. “Don't worry. We're helping her.”

“Carly? Where's Carly? And Eric? Was Richard Ashe involved?” I don't want Alba to escape before I get all my answers.

“Hmmm…let's see, Richard knows nothing about our organization or his wife and son's activities.” My eyes close briefly in relief. “All that he knows is that his wife has had a mental breakdown and can't remember much of her life.”

My eyes snap open. “You erased her memories?”

“It was essential that she not remember our organization or her mission. She won't let it go if she remembers. Patricia has a chemical imbalance as well. Between that and her upbringing in a very strict guardian home, she won't let go of her fanaticism without interference. There is also the risk of suicide if she recalls that she shot and almost killed you, the very person she was sworn to protect.”

“But Eric?”

“The rest of you remember everything. TMA firmly believes that one must understand history so as not to repeat it.” She tips her head to the side. “Exceptions are required, of course, as in Patricia's case.”

“So Eric is free?”

“Eric Ashe tried to live up to his guardian responsibilities and protect you, even against his mother at the end. He did lunge for her after she fired. He will continue to help you if needed, but he will be assigned elsewhere, officially. And he will be monitored. Carly's memories have been returned to her.”

“Where is she?”

“She alternates between you and her mother. Patricia is at Renaissance Center Psychiatric Institute, due to her breakdown and memory loss. We have an associate there keeping an eye on her progress and ensuring that her memory of TMA doesn't surface.”

“When can I go home?”

“Now that you are awake, I will coach you on what to say to the police investigating the attack on you and Luke. I've used some of my…resources to speed along your healing. You will be allowed to leave in a few days.”

A few days
! I nod instead of yelling. My chest constricts before I realize why. I want to see Luke. Not just see him—touch him, talk to him now that the curse is broken. What is he feeling? Is he as confused and emotional as Taylin? How does he feel about me, about
us
? Does he remember my confession? That I knew I was the key?

I sag back against the flat pillows. Maybe a few days will be good. In a few days, maybe I'll be better able to handle things if Luke decides that he doesn't actually love me after all.
Yeah right. Coward
. I don't know if I'll ever be able to handle that.

Dad peeks around the edge of the door. “All done in here?”

“Come on in,” Alba says. “She is doing very well for someone who's just woken up, although she can't remember the incident or the details leading up to it. That may take some time.”

“I want these bastards caught,” Dad nearly growls.

“Of course, Mr. Welsh, we all do.”

“I want them punished for what they did to my baby girl.”

Alba nods. “I believe in karma, Mr. Welsh. People who do bad things live in their own little prisons. Evil punishes those who use it.”

She glances at me and I know she's thinking about Patricia and how much of her life has been taken from her. Childhood memories, memories of her parents, her training. The Magic Alliance had completely infiltrated her life. The removal of it will leave huge holes, like Swiss cheese, through her mind. I remember the itchy look Carly lived with for days after Eric took just a few memories from her. Patricia will look like that forever. Definitely her own little prison.

“Right now, it is best to just be supportive and gentle with Jule,” Alba finishes.

“Of course,” Mom rubs my hand. “We're always here for you,
Carissima
.”

“Alba,” I say as she reaches for the doorknob.

“Doctor Vinica,” Dad supplies her last name.

“Tell Luke that I'm awake. And…that I am asking about him, too.”

Alba nods with a smile and closes the door behind her. Mom talks. Dad talks. The TV talks. I nod and “uh huh” but I hear none of it, really. The curse is broken. There is nothing holding Luke and me together anymore. He is gorgeous and smart. I get by, but there's nothing special about me, except for my voice. But if that doesn't call him anymore, then I don't have anything left to pull him to me. He's free to love where he wants. Emotions are running amok through him for the first time in two hundred years. What possible reason would he have to still be interested in me?

Mom and Dad leave when I allow my exhaustion to show. Darkness brings solitude, the night shift, fewer nurses, less noise. In the dim glow of the monitors I surrender to the pain clenching my chest. I close my eyes and see his face. His eyes stare back, and the seed of an unnatural glow starts in the depths. It increases, filling the darkness with sparking fury.

I jerk awake with a gasp. But I'm alone, still hooked up to machines with clear little tubes pumping pain relievers, antibiotics, and saline into me. Relief and devastation mix together at the same time, punching away at my remaining emotional strength. I suck in shallow inhales and in the dark, lonely depths of the night, I cry.

23

“So she poured out the liquid music of her voice to quench the thirst of his spirit.”
~Nathaniel Hawthorne

“Naw, he's not home yet,” Jake says over the phone and sneezes. “Dad's gone to get him from the hospital. But Mom's baking oatmeal cookies, so he must be coming soon.”

“Okay,” I say as I stare out my window toward Luke's house. I prop the phone on my shoulder as I finger the dragonfly charm Luke gave me.

“Crazy, huh,” Jake continues. I can hear a Mario game racing in the background. “A knife and gun assault in little white-bread-and-butter Summit. Mom's all freaked out. I think she wouldn't mind if Dad got fired just so we could move back to Boston.” He chuckles. I don't say anything. The thought of Luke moving hundreds of miles away punches me in the stomach, and I concentrate just on inhaling. Without the curse, there's no magical force tying the three siblings together anymore, just like there's nothing tying Luke to me.

“You doing okay, Jule? I mean, wow, a gunshot wound.”

I exhale. “Yeah,” I glance down at my arm sling. It's been nearly two weeks since the insanity in the Ashes' basement. The hole is stitched inside and out and healing quickly with Alba's magical touch or whatever she did to help me. “It's fine. And Jake, tell your mom I think it was a random thing. Probably some chance psychopaths passing through who figured we had some money on us or something.”

“Luke said something like that.” Jake takes a bite of something crunchy.

“Tell him I called, okay?”

“Sure thing, Jule. See ya.”

Jake disconnects, but I hold the phone tight for a long moment. Two long weeks of not hearing Luke's voice, not even over the phone. Each time I called, his parents would say he was sleeping or in physical therapy or somewhere.

“He talks about you,” Taylin had sworn when she'd come to visit the one time. “But he's like…well, we all are,” she smiled, “like, overwhelmed with all this,” she shook her hands as if to flick off something sticky, “emotion crap. Thanks to you.” She'd hugged me then, a real hug, a bit stiff but definitely with substance. “Give him a little time,” she'd whispered. When she pulled back, there had been tears in her eyes. I noticed the black coal liner was missing. “Damn watery eyes,” she cursed and wiped at them, even though she still smiled.

“He knows?” I asked. “I mean, about me knowing I was the last descendant?”

Taylin nodded, lips tight. “Just give him some time.”

“Knock, knock,” Carly says as she walks into my room, bringing me back to the present. “Good, you're dressed. You ready?”

She sounds like the old Carly, but the red rimming her eyes gives her away.

“Yeah, I guess. Thanks for coming home to pick me up. Mom didn't want me to do a full day yet.”

“No problem. I'm just missing PE and I've got an in with Coach Ashe.”

I pick up my jacket. “How's he doing with all this? And you?”

Carly nods and swallows as if struggling for control. “He works and then he visits her. I don't see him much.”

“Sounds familiar.” Our eyes connect and Carly nods. “Carly, I am so sorry.”

“I'm the one with the ganster mom.”

I don't know what to say to that. I sigh, stopping partway through the exhale, then continue when I remember that I can now sigh, moan, groan, whimper, screech, and sing without bringing on the beast.

“She'll get better, Carly.” The same words Carly said to me.

Carly nods. “She won't be the same. They've had to take so much memory from her. She barely remembers my childhood. Apparently she was very active in TMA when I was around five, and then again when we moved here.” She shrugs. “That's actually why we moved here, to follow you.”

I wrap my one good arm around her. “I'm so glad you
did
move here. What would I do without my BFF?”

She nods into my chest. I hear her sniff for a moment and then she backs up. “Well, we better get going. You have half a day of school and then a big performance tonight. Opening night.” She smiles enthusiastically, but I know it's forced.

“Madison's going to be pissed that I'm swooping back into the role of Christine at the last minute.”

Carly shrugs. “There are worse disappointments in life.” We walk through the house. “Have you practiced at all?” she asks as we walk into the kitchen.

I kiss Mom on the cheek as she's making some lunch at the counter. “She's heard that music all her life,” Mom says. “It's in her blood.” She smiles knowingly, and I wonder if her memories are coming back on their own. “You'll be fantastic,
Carissima
. Dad and I will be in the front row.”

“Thanks, Mom.”

I sag down into Carly's bucket seat and try not to stare down at Luke's house. He's not there anyway.

“Have you tried singing?” Carly asks as she revs the engine. “You know, to see if you still make people fall into a trance.”

“Not really.”

She punches the radio onto a top 40 station. “Go for it at the next red light.”

* * *

The spotlight shines down on me as I stand center stage. Its heat almost warms the chill that I've carried for two weeks. Almost. I shiver.

Ms. Bishop choked up with ridiculously obvious relief when I walked in this afternoon. I would have smiled, but those particular muscles are linked to the sharp pains in my middle every time I think of Luke.

Derek hovers close, not only as the cloaked Phantom but also as my new
guardian
. I nearly roll my eyes at the title Ms. Bishop gave him. His duty is to catch me if I pass out on stage. The woman would have me sitting to sing if I hadn't insisted that I need to stand to belt out Christine's solos.

I catch sight of Mom and Dad before the bright spotlight blinds me. Mom smiles, Dad frowns but nods encouragingly. Mom thinks singing will build my strength. It was the only argument that worked on Dad. He'd have me chained to my bed if he had his way.

Madison actually seemed relieved, instead of jealous that she wasn't to be Christine tonight. She gladly took back Carlotta's role. She whispers “you were amazing” just before I am rushed out for my encore song with Winston as Raoul.

I inhale and release a perfect note that dips into more notes, weaving through the intricacies of the song “All I Ask of You”. The song warms me from within as the spotlight warms me on the outside. I close my eyes and allow the sounds to ribbon out of me. The song builds, and my voice rides the waves of sentiment and sweet conviction. I pour the emotions of this last month into the lyrics, surrendering control. I am in my element. No matter what, I am a Siren. I will always have that. And at the moment, while I'm singing my part, it almost feels like enough. Almost.

Winston answers me and I continue. In and out, my breath hums with life. I'm flying, diving, spinning. I slow as the final notes queue. The end means landing, crashing. The conclusion snails along as my never-ending breath holds the notes of the final song. At last, I break off.

My eyes flutter open in the absolute silence. With the spotlight shining directly in my face I'm blind. But I know there is an audience of more than five hundred people out there.

“No more spell-binding,” Carly had sworn on the ride here. “Now your voice is just…really, really good. And I remember it now.” Could she have been wrong?

The spotlight trips off and the curtain brushes the floor of the stage as it drags across in front of me. As if the whole auditorium wakes at the same time, applause erupts beyond the heavy drape. Derek rushes me.

“God, Jule, that was,” he shakes his head, eyes wide, “outrageous! We are
soooo
winning at State!” He gives me an awkward hug around my bandaged shoulder.

“You should, like, be on American Idol,” Lindsey proclaims.

“Not until we make it to State,” Madison chimes in with a huge smile. She gives Winston a hug while rising up on her toes in excitement.

“Listen to that out there,” Ms. Bishop says. “That's for you,” her gaze rests on me and then spills over to the others, “for
all
of you. I'm so proud! But hurry, now—the final curtain call!”