Siren Nights (Series Part 1) (The Lure) Read online

  The door banged open and broke the spell. It was Mina, my manager. “What the hell are you two doing?” she said with a scowl. “Stop making out and get back to work.”

  I wrenched my arm out of Brett’s grip and fled out the back door instead, forcing it closed. The sky outside was clouded and threatening rain.

  The door twisted as Brett tried to open it, but it held firm. I threw a crate in front of it, then bolted down the alley and kept running. I took the first turn I saw -- and then the next one, and the one after that, until they all blurred together.

  I kept running. Burning lungs and leaden legs were nothing compared to the sheer throbbing agony my feet were in. Finally, I couldn’t take it any longer and staggered to my knees, kicking my heels off. I closed my eyes and listened for the sound of pursuit.

  A voice came, but it wasn’t Brett’s. “Whoa, where’s the fire?”

  My body shook, but it knew it couldn’t run any further. So it straightened despite the burning pain in my feet and thighs and I faced the source of the voice.

  The source was a young man wearing a wide-brimmed fisherman’s hat and a long black coat. Leaning against the wall, he had his hands shoved into his pockets. Short, wavy dark hair haphazardly framed piercing brown eyes. Even in casual dress, he cut a striking figure. He looked as if he was waiting for something.

  He stood only a few feet from my position and I realized I must have run right by him without noticing. I must have been pretty intent on evading Brett.

  “Oh…uh... nothing. Nothing’s the matter,” I replied weakly. “I’m fine.”

  The man nodded. “Okay then.” He returned to staring at the alley wall.

  He didn’t seem inclined to say anything else... or do anything else. He just leaned back and stared at the window opposite him. Dare I hope that he wasn’t here to make a bad day even worse?

  I picked up my shoes in my hands and began to leave the alley before realizing I had no idea where I had escaped to. The alley way behind and in front of me lead nowhere. Limping slowly, I followed them to the next intersection, but from there I only saw another dumpster and the locked back door of a Spanish grocery.

  Well, there was one lead. I walked back to the stranger. “Uh...Hi again. Sorry to bother you, but do you know the way back to Elm Street?” That was where I worked. I figured I should probably apologize to my manager unless I wanted to lose the first job I was able to swing in this economy.

  “Hmm.... Elm, huh? We’re a bit far from there” he looked back and forth, although it didn’t seem like there were any landmarks to navigate with. “I guess the best way is to get to East Second and then to follow it down. If you take a left down there and then your second right, you should come out on Maple and from there...” he shook his head. “You know what? I’m not doing anything important now. I can show you.”

  My body tensed. “Um... that’s fine, I don’t want to be any trouble.”

  He laughed. “Be trouble? Or find trouble?” He said it with a glance at the direction I had run from.

  I flushed. So he had figured something out, though it wasn’t hard to tell. “Well... okay. Thank you very much.”

  “I’m Jason, by the way.”

  “...Anna.”

  I put my shoes back on reluctantly and we started walking towards the alley exit. “You new here?” asked Jason.

  “Yeah,” I replied, “Just moved here last month.”

  Jason nodded. “Yeah, it takes a bit to get used to. This part of town’s pretty old. Heard it used to be the poor district, centuries ago. Guess it hasn’t changed much from then.”

  “Have you lived here long?” I asked. Keep the conversation on him and he wouldn’t think anything of me, I thought.

  “Just moved here a year ago myself... Me and my sister, we don’t really stick around in one place for long.”

  I could sympathize. It was only recently I could afford to pay even shared rent. Until then, I had gone from couch to couch, at least the times I could find someone willing to put me up for free. The rest of the time... well, the rest of the time, I made do.

  He misinterpreted my apparent discomfort. “It’s not so bad, really. Each city has its own... I guess you could call it its own spirit. My sister loves it here especially... did you know there’s a street here with four independent bookstores? If not, I’m sure she’d be happy to tell you,” he finished with a laugh.

  I shook my head. “No, I don’t really read much.”

  “Fair enough. But if you did, the place she works at is right near where we’re about to come out... here.”

  They left the alley into a narrow one-way street with a row of parked cars on one side. Sure enough, they were right next to a bookstore called Vyce Books.

  “Hers is across the way.” Jason pointed to a glass-fronted store with the words “Apple and Bookworm” frosted across the window and a picture of the same right below.

  “I see. Thanks,” I said, turning to go.

  My legs turned to ice as I saw Brett peering into a window on the street. Numbly, I managed to stumble behind a car. Fortunately, he didn’t appear to notice me.

  He swept his gaze up and down the street, appearing to be searching. Searching for me? I clenched a fist. Maybe if I stayed here long enough, he would go somewhere else. I went to my knees again, mostly because my feet still hurt. I was still in no shape to run.

  My heart clenched as I realized that instead of going away, he was actually walking right towards me. Just as it made a bid for freedom out my throat, I saw Jason walking down the street towards him.

  I groaned. What if Jason told him where I was? Or that he had met me? I swallowed helplessly as the two men conversed, straining my ears in vain to hear what they were talking about. Then, I saw Jason point down the street, in the exact opposite direction from where I hid. Brett nodded and turned away. I watched him go with a surge of relief.

  Had Jason... just saved me? Brett disappeared down the street and I cautiously crept out from behind the car.

  Jason was waiting for me. “It’s all right. He shouldn’t be back for a few minutes. Told him I saw you duck into a nearby alley... which happened to be the truth,” he added with a grin. “Then I saw a pigeon and thought to point it out. He disappeared before I could explain, though.”

  That was an odd technicality, I thought. But I supposed it didn’t matter. Something else seemed off.

  “Wait, you said he went down the alley? Will he be back?”

  “Maybe… That one doesn’t go very far before it ends.”

  I considered my choices. Going back to the restaurant was definitely out and I was probably fired already anyway for leaving during a rush. Jason seemed decent. Maybe I could stick with him, at least for a few hours.

  Finally, I licked my lips and spoke, mouth still slightly dry. “So, where did you say that bookstore was?”

  ***

  Chapter 3: Siblings and Love

  As it happened, the bookstore had closed at three. But Jason rapped twice on the door and it opened with a jingle to reveal a young woman with a brown ponytail tied with a pink scrunchie. She wore a tee-shirt and cargo pants.

  The young woman pointed an old-looking fountain pen straight at Jason. “Oh, it’s you. You brought a date here? How... cheap,” Her eyebrow arched.

  “Sorry, no time to explain sis,” Jason replied, taking my hand and leading me into the building. He was wearing thick nylon gloves, which seemed odd for the relative warmth of the day. I blushed. We really must have seemed like a couple.

  The door closed behind us. The inside of the store was divided by a tall double row of bookshelves into two aisles. “And keep that ‘Closed’ sign out there, Claire.”

  Claire rolled her eyes. “I would have done it anyway, with or without you. So who is this girl and why does she look like she’s running from the mob?”

  “Her name is Anna,” replied Jason. “Anna, this is my sister Claire… and the guy outside didn’t seem like a mobster to me...�
��

  I sighed. “No, he’s not with the mob. He just... started acting so scary all of a sudden. He’ll probably apologize for it tomorrow, but I don’t really want to see him now.”

  “And that’s your right,” Claire said with a nod. “Anyone who won’t respect you doesn’t deserve your respect either.

  If only if it were that simple, I thought. Sometimes respect had to be earned. No one “deserved” respect from the beginning, my mother had always told me. Not that she ever gave me much respect.

  “Anyway, glad the mob’s not after you.” Claire seemed satisfied.

  “Um... thanks.” I said.

  “I’m going out for a bit,” said Jason. “You can stay here as long as you want.”

  My eyes flicked nervously to Claire, but she just nodded. “Feel free to browse while you’re here,” she said, turning her attention to a brown ledger on her desk. “And ask me anything about the books.”

  “Are you sure?” I asked. “You’re closed.”

  Claire snorted. “That just means I don’t want to be interrupted by a crowd of tourists while I’m doing the balances or stopping for a bank run. Nice skirt, by the way,” she observed.

  I looked down, realizing I was still in my waitresses outfit. “Um... thank you.” Was she making fun of me?

  I moved to the shelves themselves. They went back further than I expected, given the shop’s small facade, and were completely crammed with books: from the closed drawers at the bottom to the wide shelves holding thick hardbacks in the center and all the way up to the narrow shelves for paperbacks on top.

  Each shelf held a different selection. I tried to discern the reasoning behind the organization, but failed. The poetry was next to the science fiction, which itself was shelved right next to the sparsely populated self-help section.

  And right next to the classic literature was a combination display of atlases on the bottom and paperback romance novels at the top. The bright pink and white bindings contrasted starkly with the somber, plain colors right next to it. My eyes lingered over them, possibly attracted by the garish contrast.

  Claire looked up from the ledgers. “Oh, you’re a romance fan? I’ve got a regular who’s really into eighties and nineties trade pubs. Most of those you can’t really find anymore. They had their run, so to speak.”

  I nodded without really understanding. “Well, it’s been a while for me too,” I said somewhat lamely. Now that she mentioned it, I had really enjoyed them when I was a teenager... why had I stopped again?

  Then I remembered and blushed at the memory. Brad was the reason. He always made fun of me when I read them. “Silly chick lit,” he called those books.

  “No time like the present to pick one up again,” Claire said helpfully.

  I stretched out one hand with trepidation. I hadn’t seen Brad in nearly seven years, but the shame I felt then was as alive as ever. “Girls will be girls,” he had said then and his laughter echoed in my mind. This was stupid.

  “You know, a lot of people look down at romance novels,” said Claire. “I don’t think they quite understand what the appeal really is.”

  “The appeal?...Isn’t that... the relationship?” I asked.

  “Well, yeah, sorta,” she said, fixing me with a ‘but everyone knows that’ look. “But that’s not really the whole story. See, a lot of books have romance elements in them, but they don’t have the same draw to romance fans... the language is different, you see.”

  “The language?” I queried Claire with a puzzled frown.

  “Yeah. ‘Purple prose’ or what have you, ‘heaving bosoms’ and ‘throbbing man-hoods’ to name some stereotypes. People think of it as ‘bad English,’ but personally I don’t really think it’s ‘bad’ so much as being a different way to communicate emotions you otherwise have trouble with."

  “Those words evoke powerful images by triggering your emotional mind subconsciously, even as your rational mind can’t digest them. So communication isn’t as precise, but you can understand what the author meant, either because they sound like words you do understand or because the sound of the word itself has some unexpected connotation in your mind.”

  Claire shrugs. “Of course, it’s not perfect. The best authors are both evocative AND precise. But if you prefer one over the other, who is to say what’s best? Every book isn’t for every person. What matters is your experience.”

  “The long and short of it is, if you like it, you like it. Some people disapprove, but they suck. End of story.”

  I grabbed from the shelf, Contessa of Twilight, one of the few darker colored books in the sea of pink and white. Below the gold-etched title a dancing figure in a dark grey Victorian era dress formed a perfect arch from her hands to her back. I sat down on the stool to read.

  “Oh, that one. Yeah, that’s about an eighteenth century lady who falls in love with a thief, sneaking out to see him behind her father’s back. It’s pretty good.”

  I nodded and walked up to the counter. “I’ll take it,” I declared, before I could change my mind.

  The door opened as Jason returned. “I’m back,” he said. As his eyes fell on my purchase, I tensed involuntarily.

  “Oh good, you found something!” Jason said with a nod. I searched his face for traces of mockery, but didn’t find any.

  “Thought my sister’s books would all be too old for you,” he added in a stage whisper.

  “Excuse me for liking old books,” Claire retorted, but she didn’t seem too angry. In fact, she seemed almost... pleased?

  “Don’t forget the little bag,” he said breezily. “That’s the best part.”

  My purchase wrapped in brown paper and tucked beneath my arm, I finally left the bookstore. I thanked Claire for my purchase as Jason and I walked out the door. She called out, “Don’t be shy. You know where I’m at if you need any more books.” The sun was setting, having just descended below the clouds.

  Something tugged at my chest, an odd reluctance to leave. But it was getting late.

  The door rang shut behind me.

  ***

  Chapter 4: Revelations

  Exhausted by my long day, I headed back to the flat I shared with my roommates. Tiffany would be gone already for her night shift at the hospital, but maybe Elena would be up.

  So I thought anyway, but instead Tony stood in front of the door. He lifted a hand in greeting. “Hey.”

  “Um…hi.” I said with a tentative wave back.

  “We’re having a meeting. Got a moment?”

  My heart sank. Brett must have said something to him.

  I put on my best innocent smile. “Sure. Give me a minute to change.”

  We met at the bar down the street. Tara was already at the counter, drinking a bottle of beer both dark and European. She rose languidly and we all headed to a booth. Tony ushered me into a corner and then sat down beside me. He put a hand on my thigh and I pretended my stockings itched, knocking him off to scratch.

  Brett wasn’t there. “So what is this all about?” I asked before he could arrive.

  “Brett said he had something important to tell us.”

  I looked carefully from Tony to Tara. They didn’t seem to have any idea what that “something” was. Or at least, they didn’t have a reaction to it if they did. Tara wasn’t even looking at me, but was staring off, bored, towards the back of the bar.

  So maybe Brett hadn’t poisoned them against me. That was something. I’d get a chance to tell my side of the story.

  Then again, what story was there? Brett had hit on me and got rejected. There wasn’t any time to make up some sort of story. He was smart about vampires, but he wasn’t a smooth liar... not like Trevor had been.

  Remembering Trevor was upsetting, even five years later. Especially the time he convinced all of our mutual friends that I was crazy when he cheated on me. I really did attract assholes it seemed. Or maybe every man was terrible, I thought with a sinking heart.

  Unbidden, Jason’s face flashed in
front of my mind. I shooed it away. He was probably just as bad, deep down. I just hadn’t gotten to know him that well. Better that I never saw him again and I could fantasize that one good man existed in the world.

  Well that was cheerful of me. I hadn’t even started drinking yet. Maybe now wouldn’t be a bad time to start. I signaled a passing waitress and ordered a beer.

  I was about halfway down it when Brett finally arrived, setting a laptop on the corner of the crusty table gingerly. “Hey guys.” He didn’t look at me.

  “About time,” Tony said with a laugh, slapping my thigh. I jerked away. He had drained his drink entirely too fast for my liking. “Now tell us what’s so important, four-eyes.”

  Brett nodded, typing at the screen. “I found us another vamp.”

  Tony laughed again. “Perfect!” He threw an arm around my shoulders. “I always knew you’d be our good luck charm.”

  Brett grinned. “Yeah, you could almost say she pointed this one out to me. Take a look at this,” he said, flipping the laptop around to reveal a split screen framing two photographs.

  The one on the left was a standard heat map, the most reliable “vampire scan” technology could make, tinged in chilly blues and violets. But it was the right photo that left me feeling like I had just been smashed in the chest with a brick.

  There in the candid shot, turning slightly away was Jason. I spewed my drink all over Brett’s laptop.

  He stood up like he was stung by a bee and flipped it upside down, ejecting the battery with a snap. Swearing, he shook the liquid off the computer.

  The first words out of his mouth that weren’t profane were also directed at me. “You bitch! What did you do that for?”

  “I... saw him before.” I said, thinking fast. “Briefly.”

  “Yeah, he mentioned that,” muttered Brett. “Still, be more careful next time!”

  “Is it all right?” asked Tony.

  “Don’t know,” said Brett, setting the computer down to wipe it off. “I’m gonna have to open it up and air it out. Doesn’t look like any liquid got in at least.

  “Well then no harm done,” Tony said with a shrug. “Don’t worry, if it’s broke, I’ll buy you a new one.”