“Come on, Ridley. That’s not what happened,” Necro began.
Link started to waver. “What went on that night? You never actually told me anything about it. One minute, you took off for Europe, the next thing I hear you’re in that club in New York. Then suddenly you show up in Gatlin, actin’ all kinds a sorry, and you just happen to know a band that needs a drummer? Since when do you even know bands?”
Ridley started to panic. Think fast. “What does it matter? I went out. I met the band. Their drummer sucked, and he left. They needed a new one. We made a deal at the club. End of story. That’s it.”
“Why didn’t you just say that? Are you hiding something? Were you with someone? Is that what this is about?” Link looked like he might lose it, right there on the street.
“We were broken up!” She backpedaled when she saw the pain in his eyes. “Why would you even think that?” Ridley gave up trying to explain. She didn’t want to Charm Link, but the way she saw it, she didn’t have a choice. Unfortunately for him, she did have a lollipop. Her fingers began to fumble for it in her pocket.
No magic. You promised. No Siren stuff.
She hesitated, but only for a second.
Who am I kidding?
Ridley smiled up at Link. “Of course not. I know you believe me. That’s all that matters.” As she spoke, she felt the candy wrapper come off in her fingers. You know I’m right, Shrinky Dink.
“Of course I believe you. It’s just—”
“You’re worried because you care about me and you want me to be happy.” Her fingers curled around the lollipop. You want me to be happy, Hot Rod.
“That’s all I want, darlin’.”
“But I know that deep down, you trust me.” And you absolutely really truly believe me, Wesley Lincoln.
She held her breath. She hadn’t tried anything like this on Link in a long, long time. He didn’t like it, and she didn’t blame him. Truthfully, she didn’t really like it, either.
Link smiled at her. “You know I do, Babe.”
She smiled back. “I know.” Let’s go to the gig, Link.
He took her hand. “Now let’s go get us a gig, Sugarplum.”
As they walked away, Ridley tried not to think about what she had just done.
It worked, didn’t it?
But if it was all for the best, why do I feel so bad?
She ducked her head and tried not to see their faces everywhere she looked. If she let herself remember, they’d fall from the sky like so many autumn leaves. Hundreds. Thousands. The people she’d Charmed. The men she’d destroyed. The boys who had worshipped her. The women who had hated her.
Do I really want to add Wesley Lincoln to that pile of burning leaves?
Have I crossed a line?
Ridley wished Lena was here. She would know—and she’d tell Ridley, too. Lena was Ridley’s barometer; she always had been.
What would Lena say now?
Ridley let her hand slip from Link’s grasp. He and Sampson began talking about the set list and walked ahead of her. Rid fell back, trying not to think about it. She had bigger problems to think about than Charming one more hybrid Incubus.
“Hey, Siren.”
Necro grabbed Ridley by the arm. She waited until the boys were out of earshot. “When this is over,” she said, “we’re going to have a little girl talk. Heart to Dark heart.” Any goodwill between them was now long gone.
Floyd shot Ridley a nasty look. “She’d have to have a heart to do that.”
“Why would I want one of those?” Ridley didn’t smile.
Floyd leaned in. “I guess anyone desperate enough to Charm their own boyfriend really wouldn’t understand, would they?”
“You know. Linky Charms.” Necro shrugged. “I hear he’s magically delicious. Oblivious, but delicious.”
Ridley couldn’t believe she’d thought this lame little faux-hawked dead detector was her friend.
I’m a Siren. What do they expect? Nobody gets in between a Siren and her sailor. They should know that by now.
Maybe it was time for Ridley to remind them.
“Patty,” said Ridley, grabbing Floyd by the arm with her own long, red nails. “And Duane,” she said, grabbing Necro, with the same fierceness. “Let’s us girls get a little something straight. You ever try to turn my boyfriend against me again, and it will be a whole lot more than a girl talk. It’ll be a catfight.” Ridley leaned in. “Claws out.”
“Meowch,” Necro said, her gaze unwavering. Floyd said nothing. “No one messes with our bandmates, Rid. You don’t get it, because you’re not in the band. It’s the line you don’t cross.”
Alone. On the curb. She got it.
Only, at this particular moment, Ridley Duchannes didn’t care what anyone else had to say about it.
She didn’t miss a beat. “I admit I can’t control Sampson,” she said. “But I can make the two of you fall in love with every stray pit bull from here to New Jersey, and don’t think I won’t do it. It’s a Siren thing.”
“And don’t be surprised when every single one of them suddenly looks just like your cutie-pie boyfriend.” Floyd pulled her arm away. “Illusionist thing.” She smirked and took off after Sampson.
Cutie-pie boyfriend?
I will take you down.
Necro shook her head. “Now you’ve done it. Never screw with an Illusionist. They say you won’t know what hit you. Literally.”