SirensCall (2 page)

Their lead stepped in front of the microphone and did a
sound check. “Test, test, one, two, three.” The man had one of those dark, deep
voices, the kind that made men listen and women shed their clothing.

However, his vocals had a different effect on everyone else.
The room quieted. It went from chatter, shouts and hollers to pin-drop silence.
I leaned against the wall again and crossed my arms over my chest.

This should be different than your average punk show.

Four guys stepped onto the stage—a drummer, a bass player, a
guitarist and a vocalist—a usual set for a rock band. My senses were sharp at
this point. I’d been on alert for the strange ever since I stepped in here, but
witnessing my first helping, I wasn’t going to miss anything.

What would they be? Fae? Nymphs? Dryads? I’d seen them all
and left most towns because of them. This was the first place I’d been in for a
long time where I hadn’t had a single sighting.

Tension that had been building in my chest all day
intensified. It wasn’t enough that I had to lose my job for unjust reasons but
now my peace was at an end—at least if these folks planned on sticking around.
Because I refused to be the crazy person amidst all the normals again, unable
to tell anyone about all the weird crap I was seeing.

The spotlight flashed onto the band and the humidity in the
room skyrocketed. Not only that but the scent changed. Still Old Spice, still
sweat, but now a distinctive smell permeated the room—sex. It was as if every
person in this room—male, female, straight or bisexual—got flipped on and the
pheromones were suffocating.

I snuck a glance over to Viola. Eyes wide, hands clenched
and bracing herself against the wall. Yep, Miss “I’m so sensitive to energies”
was in heat.

An annoyed groan slipped from my lips and I turned my focus
to the stage.

The men shifted back and forth between forms like a jigsaw
puzzle of half-glamour and half-real. Their guises were beautiful, of course.
Sharp, angular chins, strong noses, dark, soulful eyes. These men wore drop-dead
sexy suits. As I stared at them, the shifting between forms began to fade, as
it always did when I saw them for what they really were.

The singer was some type of fae. Long, dark hair coiled down
his back in a braid and his ears were long and pointed, his teeth sharp. The
guitarist was a satyr, the guitar cradled in the crook of his misshapen legs.
His horns gleamed under the spotlight and his eyes danced with wicked promises
of what he’d do if he got you in bed. A normal-looking guy stood behind the
drums, albeit straight out of
GQ.
His appearance was a bit off, though—maybe
it was the predatory gaze he swept over the crowd, or how his teeth appeared
too perfect. And there was not a strand of his gelled hair out of place.

In the back, their bassist—who was at least six feet
tall—hunched over his bright-blue bass. I squinted, trying to discern what he
was.

The sleeves ripped off his t-shirt displayed muscled arms,
the lean kind a swimmer would have. His dark hair fell in waves to his
shoulders, curling around his ears. The greenish hue to his skin could’ve been
from the blue lights, but I didn’t think so. He had color that the others didn’t
and along his throat, I caught slits opening and closing. Gills? His light-blue
eyes roamed over the audience with a hungry curiosity that made me shiver.

Mr. Sexy Voice stepped up to the mic and the music began.

From the start, the blend of guitar with heavy bass and the
slow crescendo of the drums created a unique sound. These guys were talented,
I’d give them that. A little more aggressive rock than punk, but it didn’t
matter. Not after watching the crowd’s reaction.

It was as if Underwater Machine had leveled a pheromone bomb
through the place.

The spell was cast from the fae’s compelling voice, the
satyr thrusting against the guitar, the succubus’ stare pinning guys down right
and left. And the bassist—he had to be a siren with the way the plucked notes
of his bass held the audience captive.

These folks bred off sexual energy and they had a whole
basement of humans ripe for the picking. And hell, every human in the place
made themselves as ripe as possible.

With the sole exception of me.

The strains were slow, pumping faster and faster as the
crowd began responding. At most concerts, fans will get into the music. Guys
and girls backing their thangs up, or chicks throwing themselves at their
dreamboat on stage. Not like this. Forget the players on stage—everyone
responded to the music as if a climax hit them at the end of every guitar
chord.

Beads of sweat slid down my neck from the rise of heat in
the room.

A chick near the bar grabbed the man next to her and began
making out, her tongue down his throat and barely stopping for air.

Two guys, burlier ones, started tonguing too, aggressive to
the point of banging against the wall. Mere feet from me, two neon-haired
punkers began toying with a girl on the floor. She’d kiss one of them and then
slide her hand down the other’s pants, beginning to pump. A guy had ditched his
pants, his erection stark in the room. A couple of seconds later a woman
wrapped her lips around it and started sucking.

Despite my ability to brave the lust waves and not fall on
my knees, my chaste stint combined with the free porn show in front of me
wasn’t helping temper my libido at all. The weirdos on stage were drinking in
all this sexual chi too.

Their energy increased the longer they kept this up,
swinging with their instruments, shoulders straightening and the air around
them pulsing with an off-hue glow like the flyer. Their music followed the
waves of energy and the human audience lapped it up. Well, and each other.

I turned to Viola to see how my girl was faring, but she’d
lost herself in one of those gorgeous lanky bastards I’d checked out earlier.
The guy had lifted her off the ground and was holding her up by her ass. Her
legs twined around his thin torso and she leaned up, lips exploring his mouth,
his neck, his chest.

This level of voyeurism was uncomfortable. Being the only
one not falling prey to mind-numbing lust and too moral to dive right in
knowing these humans were being used by fae and the sort, I was going to need a
hell of a cold shower afterward.

In essence, while everyone else was getting sucked off, it
just sucked for me.

Viola might kick me for this later, but her one-night stands
should be her choice, not supernatural compulsion. “Come on, girlie.” I tugged
at her shoulder.

The guy’s arm snaked around me, pulling me tight behind her.
His fingers climbed through my hair and the motion sent prickles down my neck.
God above, I needed to get laid. My knees were already weak. Not going to take
advantage, though, because I’d feel like shit later.

I bit my lip and pulled away, grabbing Viola by the waist.
She turned around and rubbed against me, purring like a wildcat. We were best
friends and all, but I wasn’t looking to get that close.

“Let’s get out of here.” I grabbed her hand. Thankfully she
was pretty open to anything involving touching. I muscled my way toward the
stairs, moving past a girl bent over the bar, the guy thrusting up her ass.
Awesome.

The place reeked of sweat and sex, the odors hanging
suspended in the humid air. Lights flashed and the music continued to send
everyone wild.

The satyr was lapping up the attention at this point. He
knelt on the platform plucking at his guitar while girls swarmed the stage,
pawing at him and panting. The singer’s grin creeped me out and every time the
light glinted his way, those sharp teeth seared through my mind.

If only the audience could see the real forms of the
circus freaks up there.

The exit couldn’t appear fast enough. Viola had started
grinding on my leg and to say it was awkward cheapened the word. I glanced back
in time to catch those light-blue eyes dart my way. The bassist caught my
escape. Not my problem that their mind juju didn’t work on me.

All the way up the stairs, Viola kept running her hands
along my arms, grabbing my tits and slipping her arm around my waist.
Yeah,
not happening
. I batted her off at every attempt, even though she kept
getting more and more aggressive.

We broke past the steps, but no one stood behind the
counter. Jamie was somewhere in the mess downstairs. Same with the philosophy
boys who’d been all high and mighty at their fancy table. Chances were they
were sucking and fucking each other right now.

I lugged all hundred pounds of Viola outside. Maybe fresh
air would knock some sense into her. This had turned out to be a distraction,
sure, but not the kind I’d been hoping for. We stepped through the door—well,
Viola half-stumbled—and a chilly breeze hit me. After all the humidity in the
basement, I gulped it down.

I sagged against the wall as Viola got a little less handsy
and a little more confused. She patted herself down, smoothing her skirts and
straightening pieces of her hair in an OCD routine as she regained her senses.

“Man, that was getting intense down there, wasn’t it?” Viola
fanned herself. “Did I have a lot to drink? It got kind of hazy…but I do
remember the lead singer had one hell of a voice.”

I choked on my annoyance. Not like it didn’t happen every
time something supernatural this way came. Normal people couldn’t pin down what
happened, whether they were incited to violence, orgies or even a killer jam
session, thanks to those creativity-leeching fae.

“I need a stiff drink after that mess. Want to join me?” I
asked, looping an arm around her shoulders. To my relief, she didn’t try to
feel me up this time.

“Sure thing. I’ll sell you off at the bar, become your
pimp.” She flashed me a grin as we marched off toward the Raven pub.

Two Jack Daniel’s later and I still felt hot and bothered. Alcohol
did nothing to sate the figurative blue balls I’d gotten from watching everyone
get it on but myself. The bartender, a surly guy named Jake, chatted up one of
the older broads who batted her clumpy eyelashes his way.

Viola had returned to her perky, happy self as if five
minutes ago she hadn’t been straddling a guy in the basement at a show. If I’d
been normal, I could’ve gotten my jollies off, had a good time and let out some
pent-up aggression. But no, the fae-sex-mobile had to come rolling into town
with the worst timing ever.

Maybe I’ll take up smoking?
I swished around my third
Jack Daniel’s and watched the ice cubes begin to melt. Viola had made a new
friend, a guy sporting thick-rimmed glasses and a bushy beard that trailed
halfway down his button-down shirt.

The door creaked open, the little bell tinkling with the
motion.

I glanced back to see who’d come in this close to closing
and groaned.

All four of them approached, as if they hadn’t already
caused enough havoc in this town. Satyr had a smirk on his face and
questionable stains on his shirt. Sexy Voice sauntered inside, pep in his step
and all. Succubus was still eyeing the sad remaining bar patrons, probably
looking for an extra fix.

Auntie Frieda, an old gypsy I used to live near, told me all
about their kind. Said their appetites were insatiable, so it was best to steer
clear.

The seat next to me squeaked.

“Pint of lager,” a deep and definitely male voice demanded.
Those light-blue eyes pierced right through me, the same way they had in the
basement. Up close he smelled salty, like a sea breeze.

“Upset they don’t have any ocean water for you?” I asked
before I could stop myself.

His eyebrows went way up, but those thin lips just curled
into a smile. Despite the neck gills and greenish tint, the boy was gorgeous in
that so-pretty-I’d-break-you kind of way. Even if I could’ve sworn I spotted
strands of seaweed woven through his hair.

“So I was right. You’re not normal.” He took a sip of his
lager but never looked away. Rather than unsettling me, his gaze set my libido
on fire. Nothing to do with magical siren powers and everything to do with a
damn attractive male giving me the eye. If I didn’t find myself home and taking
a cold shower soon, I would do very bad things to that man, siren or not.

“I don’t know about that assessment. Compared to your brood,
I’m pretty damn normal. Just seen some shit in my day.”

That elicited a chuckle from him. Had to disengage before my
mind wandered into dangerous territory. Like what a siren was like in bed.
Bad,
bad libido
.

“You’re taking your show on the road, right? Like, out of
this town?” I asked, swirling the ice around my glass. All flirting aside, I
hoped and prayed they’d be on the move. Otherwise my problems would be
twofold—finding a new job and a new home.

“Always.” He stared down the meager bar selection of Seagram’s,
Captain Morgan and good ol’ Jack Daniel’s. “Not like we’d be able to tap this
town too often without drawing attention.”

“Less turf to fight over, though, being out in the middle of
nowhere.”

Interest sparked those blue eyes again. “And what would a
normal girl like you know about that?”

“I’ve done my fair share of location-hopping due to your
kind. One of the shit factors of seeing through glamours is the crazy label
that comes with disclosing anything you witnessed.” A knot unfurled inside my
chest at talking openly like this.

“You’re immune to our magic, aren’t you?” His voice
contained a note of wonder in it as he looked me up and down. The tip of his
tongue ran over one of his sharper teeth, not unlike our canines.

Glass of lager still in hand, he began to hum. Nice voice
and could carry a tune, but I was too busy ogling his gorgeous arms to pay
attention to the ditty. Viola, on the other hand, snapped to attention, as did
the old broad who’d been talking up Jake. The men were just as entranced, a
hazy look overtaking their eyes as the spell settled in.

I placed a hand on my hip. “Was that supposed to impress
me?”

“God, that’s hot,” he purred.

I arched an eyebrow, not sure what he referred to. “You mean
my trademark sass move? Because I thought it could use a little work.”

“You’re a human who doesn’t get wrapped up in our magic. Do
you know how rare you are?”

“Apparently you do.” I snarked back. If this banter
continued, I was going to jump his bones in minutes.

“You have no idea. You’ve been blending in your whole life,
haven’t you?” The way his light-blue eyes danced with hunger made me squeeze my
legs together. He leaned in closer, his face inches away from mine. The salty
smell of the sea rolled around him, as intoxicating as the tide. “And you’ve
got to be pent-up after that show down there.” His grin widened and one of
those sharp teeth poked out.

Wicked. He was a wicked, wicked bastard.

I tilted my glass and drank a larger-than-average sip of
good old JD. When I lowered the glass to the bar, my arm brushed against his.
The slight skin-to-skin contact rushed through me like a wave. I shifted on the
stool. The room was a bit stifling all of a sudden.

“Can’t tease me like that, buddy,” I joked. “Too long a dry
spell here.”

His lips brushed my ear as he leaned in to whisper.
“Darling, it’s no tease.” He nipped my ear before he pulled away.

The effect was instantaneous. I squeezed my legs together,
trying to suppress the ache that blossomed. He lifted the pint glass to his
lips and chugged it down. “Now, care for a breath of fresh air?”

Didn’t need to ask me twice. He grabbed my hand and I
followed him out, his band members, Viola, the bartender all blurring into the
background. My mind reeled, intoxicated by the promises spoken in those eyes.

Crunchy brown leaves danced around my ankles, kicked up by a
spare breeze. Despite the cold, his hand on mine filled me with growing warmth.
The full moon cast an alien gleam over everything, gliding over the metal of
the cars, shading the brick a soft purple. We reached the back of the bar and
he spun me around. The strength and control of his arms surprised me.

His arm snaked around my waist like a coil of heat pressing
around my midriff. Our breath mingled, visible in the chilly night. The wind
tried to numb my cheeks, but the way intense heat pulsed through me from his
proximity, there was no chance of growing cold.

Moonlight turned his skin porcelain-pale and threaded
shadows through his raven-wing hair. I rested a hand on the nape of his neck,
careful to not brush against the gills. The way his eyes bored into me—it
wasn’t the glazed look his kind got while feeding. This was a hunger bred from
desire. The same hunger that begged me to wrap my legs around his waist and let
him enter me, again and again.

I shivered, but not from the cold. He paused and tilted his
head to the side.

“You aren’t compelled,” he said in a hushed voice.

Irritation sparked through me. I’d had enough talking about
my weird abilities. Enough waiting around, and hell, enough watching for
tonight.

“Shut up and fuck me,” I growled, grabbing him by his
button-down shirt and pulling him forward. He laughed in surprise, a silken
sound, before his mouth found mine.

My insides weakened the second our lips touched and the
fingers on his shirt unclenched. He pulled me closer at the same moment his
tongue slipped into my mouth. Christ, and he could kiss.

My legs lost function and clothes became too cumbersome. He
tasted salty like the ocean and radiated the same steady power. The tingling
from his mouth on mine traveled all the way to my fingertips.

Simple skin-to-skin contact wasn’t enough. I kissed him
back, biting down on his lower lip, satisfied to hear his groan. My hands
slipped behind his neck, tracing down his spine, dipping inside his shirt.

His arm tightened around my waist and my hips pressed
against his. My shirt rode up as his hand crept under, climbing up my stomach,
higher and higher. He caressed the top of my breast, circling around to
squeeze. The motion sent a jolt through me, making my nipples hard.

A groan escaped my lips and I ground against him, desperate
to have him inside me. His fingertips darted down my pants, tugging at the
waistband the way he would the strings of his bass.

I sank to my knees, his hand caressing my back as I slid. My
breaths were heavy, like swallowing a thick syrup, but my nerves bristled with
excitement.

His black chinos didn’t stand a chance.

I grabbed the zipper with my teeth and tugged and his dick
appeared. He leaned back, shoulders pressed against the brick wall as he braced
himself. I ran my tongue up and down the length of his erection, shuddering
from the heat. He grabbed a fistful of my hair, sending thrills up my spine.

I opened my mouth and took him in whole, dipping up and
down. His legs tensed with the motion and I went faster.

His erection throbbed and I could taste sex in my mouth. My
insides tightened like a taut balloon waiting for a pinprick to burst it. His
hips moved with my mouth and picked up tempo until he pulled me back and up by
my hair. He panted, his eyes intense and predatory, straining with the effort
of pulling me away.

He leaned forward, grabbed the hem of my pants and tugged,
the cargos dropping to the ground. His hand found my thigh and ran up and down
my leg. I thrust my hips against him and his erection was hot and hard against
my leg. My insides throbbed.

God, I wanted him.

Those same skillful fingers plucked my panties off like a
petal and they fell to the ground with my pants. He gripped both my thighs,
reaching up until he was squeezing my ass, and lifted me up.

He turned and my back slammed against the brick wall as he
ground against me. His length brushed against my skin, piercing me with desire
so strong it was painful. My lips found his again and I tasted his sweet mouth,
my tongue darting in to toy with his. I rubbed myself against him, desperate to
have him inside me.

A wicked smirk graced his face and lit up his eyes. The
bastard was enjoying this slow torture.

He dipped down and slowly licked the length of my neck. I
shuddered and pushed against him, my arms around his neck and my back to the
wall. His heated breath dizzied my head, and drunk on lust, I bit down on his
lip again.

He lifted me higher and I twined my legs around his waist.
His eyes locked on mine and I nodded. I was pent-up and close to bursting. I
couldn’t wait any longer.

As he thrust himself inside me, my mind seared with a
numbing bliss that soaked right through me.

His hardness was a burning spike inside that rode me higher
and higher into throes of pleasure. He pounded against me, my back scraping
against the wall and my kisses on his lips fevered and delirious.

Sweat soaked my skin and drops trailed down his neck,
illuminated by the moonlight. My knees trembled but I clung onto him as he
thrust me against the wall over and over again.

The pulsing inside made me crazy, waves of pleasure rolling
through and knocking away thoughts, surroundings, everything except the fierce
ecstasy rushing through me. All I could taste was the salt on his lips and all
I could see were those piercing blue eyes intensified with pleasure. Our hair
tangled together and our limbs were a jigsaw puzzle.

I bit down on my lip, stifling the guttural groan as the
pressure rose higher and higher. My thighs tensed and I leaned my head back as
he brushed his lips up and down my neck.

He throbbed inside me and I ground against him as the
tightness pulsed.
Closer. Closer.
The pleasure built until I couldn’t
stand it any longer and my insides were ready to explode. He thrust, lingering
and pinning me between his body and the wall.

The pressure burst.

My body shuddered over and over again as I rode the waves of
ecstasy rolling through me. All the frustration, all the anger, everything I had
pent up for all that time was released in one blissful motion.

He leaned down, his lips smothering mine, intensifying the
orgasm as I hung limp in his arms. Hotness flooded through me as he spilled
inside. He trembled against me while lowering us to the ground.

I straddled him as we sat half-naked on the concrete in the
back lot of the Raven, moonlight and shadows spilling over us like a second
skin.

We both panted, staring at each other with our mouths open
but unable to form coherent words. His sharp chin, a couple of his pointed
teeth and the greenish hue of his skin were exaggerated by the moonlight.

He was a fascinating, gorgeous creature.

He studied me back with those curious eyes but neither of us
spoke a word, caught in a muggy haze of sex, sweat and the faint scent of
cigarette smoke.

With one finger, he plucked my red-and-black striped panties
from the ground and offered them up. “You seem to have misplaced these.”

I got off him and snatched my underwear from his hands. One
of those huge, goofy grins threatened to break free. I tugged my pants on,
feeling utterly sated. Turns out my hellish day had a pretty wonderful ending.

When I turned around, he’d already finished dressing and lit
up a cigarette as he leaned against the brick wall. The scrapes along my back
sent a fluttering excitement through me, evoking the thrill I felt as he’d
entered me. I jammed my hands in my pockets and stared up at the star-studded
sky. The cool wind swept by, drying and chilling the beads of sweat along my
neck and arms.

“So can I buy you a drink?” he asked after letting loose a
stream of smoke. A smirk played on his lips.

“I think you’ve got that backward.” I grabbed the cigarette
from his hands and took a drag. The nicotine flooded through me. “It’s okay,
though, I know you strange folks don’t get humans all too well.”