Page 40 of Siren in Love
It did the trick.Corvin, not quite fully awake yet, still did as he’d been told, although he reached for the lights.
“No,” Mike said, snatching Corvin’s wrist before he could flip the switch.“Don’t turn on any lights.”
They both got dressed quickly and quietly and met John in the hallway.
“What’s happening?”Corvin asked.
“Nothing you need to worry about, hon.”Mike took Corvin’s hand.I’ll keep you safe.Everything will be fine.
“What do we do?”John asked.“Did you call Peter?”
“No.”
Peter was probably busy dealing with this situation on his end, whatever the situation actually was.Mike also knew he was siren enough to handle a few loups-garous—permanently, if need be.His only real worry was keeping Corvin safe.Safe and unaware.
John looked at Mike.“Man, we can’t—”
“Be quiet and do what I tell you.”Mike didn’t even bother to temper his song.
John dropped his gaze, but he kept quiet.They hurried down the stairs without exchanging a word, by unspoken agreement and the force of Mike’s song.
Downstairs, Mike grabbed his car keys from the bowl on the hallway shelf.He stopped at the front door to meet Corvin’s eyes in the darkness.
“Corvin, I want you to get in the back seat.John, shotgun, but stay low.Got it?”
They both nodded, Corvin looking confused and John scared as hell.Mike started humming, letting his song flow through him and out.He opened the door and increased the volume as they crossed the threshold.
A part of Mike hoped John had been mistaken, that the werewolf had had a bad dream and had gotten scared of shadows, but no such luck.In response to Mike’s song, snarls and growls from the darkness, from the bushes and from behind a car parked across the street, could be heard.
Fuck.Mike increased the volume of his song.
They sprinted to the car, and Mike unlocked the doors with the fob.Corvin got in the back, and John slid into the passenger seat.Mike went around to the driver’s side.
The problem with a car was that it had nice acoustics inside but wasn’t all that great for reaching ears outside.Mike opened the door and got in, but didn’t close it.He started the engine, carefully singing louder to make sure nothing jumped him while they got ready to leave.He lowered the windows in the front, but not the back to keep Corvin safe.
Once that was done, he closed the door and shifted from humming to open-mouthed singing to drown out the noise of the car.Mike pulled out of the driveway and floored it as much as he dared within city limits.
Large dark shapes followed them in his rearview mirror, keeping close.Mike took turns he hoped would slow them, and once he had put some distance between them and the loups-garous, he stopped singing.
The moment he did, he saw Corvin’s face in the rearview mirror, blinking sleep from his eyes and meeting his gaze.
“Mike, what’s going on?”
“There are some people coming after John, honey, but it’s going to be fine.Now, do me a favor and get down.”He didn’t use his song this time around, but Corvin knew Mike’s I’m-handling-this voice, so he still did what Mike told him to do.He ducked down in the back, his breath steadying.
“Man, we can’t outrun them,” John whispered.
“We aren’t even going to try,” Mike said, taking a sharp right turn that had his tires squeaking.
There was an old cotton mill on the outskirts of New Elvenswood.It was a place Mike knew well, because his mom had taken him there when he was a kid, his voice still years from breaking but already swelling with siren song.
The cotton mill had great acoustics, almost as nice as some churches or opera houses designed for it.Mike had learned to master his song there, and it would be the best place to gain an advantage against a band of bloodthirsty loups-garous.
The larger-than-wolf shapes kept following, and Mike hurled his song at them through the open windows every now and then, although he didn’t really try to lose them.
When the cotton mill came into view, Mike sped up so they’d have some time to get inside the building.He pulled onto the property, the force of the turn pushing him into his seat.
From not that far away, Mike heard the howling of a loup-garou, and the drawn-out sound spoke of blood and shattering bone, of claws and the tearing of flesh beneath them.If Mike had stopped acting long enough, fear might’ve found him, but he wouldn’t let that happen.
