Tidal (9 page)

“You’re talking about Daniel?” Gemma debated about saying anything more on that, but she decided she should tell Thea. That didn’t mean that word wouldn’t get back to Penn, but if Thea thought it should, then maybe it should. “I talked to Harper this morning, and she thinks she figured out why he’s immune.”

Thea turned her head sharply. “Really?”

“Yeah. Harper was with Daniel last night, and he couldn’t hear her whisper or something,” Gemma said, almost reluctantly telling Thea the story. “Five years ago, he was in an accident, and it messed up his hearing. He’s not deaf, but certain octaves and tones are out of his range.”

“So he’s deaf to whatever makes the siren song enchanting,” Thea said. She sighed and pulled the hair tie out, making her red locks fall free.

“Are you going to tell Penn?” Gemma asked.

Thea looked at her for a long moment. “I should … but I won’t. And I advise you not to, also. If she hasn’t solved that mystery, it might keep her interested in staying in town.” She gave Gemma a knowing look. “That might keep you alive longer.”

“She told me she’s looking for a replacement.” That was the first time Gemma had said it aloud, and the reality of it hit her harder than she’d thought it would.

She hadn’t told Harper about it—she refused to. Her sister already knew too much and was too wrapped up in the drama of her life. Gemma thought the best way to protect her was to keep her out of the loop. The less Harper knew, the better.

That didn’t change the fact that the very real threat of Gemma’s death was looming in the not-too-distant future, and it was hard for her not to throw up when she thought about it too much.

“I’m trying to hold her off, Gemma,” Thea said. “Penn
thinks
she found the right girl, but she’s being cautious. There’s still some time, but not much.”

“Can’t you just tell me how to break the curse?” Gemma asked, almost pleading with her.

“Gemma, honestly, don’t you think if I knew how to break the curse, I would’ve done it by now?” Thea asked. “I wish I could have a better solution for sure. I wish I knew the magic answer to make everything easy and wonderful, but I don’t. I’m trapped in the same mess you are.”

“I know, but…” Gemma trailed off and ran her hand through her hair. “I just don’t know what to do anymore.”

“Enjoy this life for as long as you have it,” Thea told her simply.

Thea slipped off her bikini bottoms and tossed them back on the cliff. Then she dove off the edge, her arms pointed out in front of her as she fell toward the waves crashing below her.

That was the apparent end of the conversation, so Gemma followed suit. She kicked off her sandals and panties, so she was left in her sundress. Unlike Thea, Gemma preferred swimming in a dress instead of a swimsuit. That way she had all her lady bits covered when she reemerged from the water, since the tail transformation ripped off suit bottoms or underwear. Thea had jumped right from the edge, but Gemma liked a running start. She went back to the cabin, then raced to the edge and leapt off.

The fall to the ocean below was exhilarating. The wind blowing past her was so loud, she couldn’t hear anything else. Her dress whipped around her, and her stomach flipped several times before she finally crashed into the water.

The first few moments after she hit were painful. It wasn’t as bad for Gemma as it was for Thea, because she’d missed all the rocks that lined the face of the cliff. Thea had to have slammed into some of them, but by the time Gemma made it into the ocean, any signs of Thea’s injuries were gone. She was just a beautiful mermaid, flitting about the water.

Within seconds of hitting the water, Gemma felt the change running over her. The flutter of her skin as it turned from flesh into iridescent scales. The water running over her made her skin feel electric. Every wave, every splash, every movement charged through her.

While Thea had waited for Gemma to join her in the water, she turned and swam ahead. Gemma raced after her. They left the bay, moving away from where there were so many people who could spot them, and then they really began to play.

They moved together, swimming around one another almost as if they were dancing. They’d dive deep, then race back to the surface as quickly as they could so they could leap, flying through the air before splashing back into the ocean.

In these moments, when her entire body was tingling and joy was rushing over her like a tidal wave, Gemma couldn’t feel any anxiety or fear or worry. She actually became incapable of it. The only thing she felt—the only thing that mattered—was the ocean.

NINE

Sundham

The campus lawn was filled with maples, and the rather imposing brick university was partially obscured by the foliage. The fall semester hadn’t started yet, so it was quiet. A Latin inscription was above the door, but Harper, Marcy, and Gemma were too far away to be able to read it.

“This does not look like a bookstore,” Harper said after Marcy had pulled her Gremlin over on the street in front of Sundham University.

“It’s on the way,” Marcy said and turned down the stereo.

An eight-track of Carly Simon had been the soundtrack for their forty-minute drive from Capri, with the last fifteen minutes almost on full blast because Gemma had requested it to drown out the watersong.

Harper didn’t exactly know what the watersong was, and Gemma hadn’t really articulated it. All she knew was that the farther Gemma got from the ocean, the more obnoxious the song would get. This was apparently the farthest Gemma had gone since she’d become a siren.

“It’s really pretty,” Gemma said, leaning forward from the backseat.

“Yep, it looks the same as it did in the brochures, and it even looks the same as it did when I went to a college visit last year before I applied to go here,” Harper said. She turned away from the campus to glare at Marcy and Gemma. “I know what the school looks like.”

“Just thought it wouldn’t hurt to remind you,” Marcy said.

Marcy exchanged a look with Gemma and shrugged.

“Nice try, Marcy,” Gemma told her and leaned back in the seat.

“So you guys have been conspiring?” Harper asked, looking from one to the other of them.

Neither of them replied, and Marcy put the car in gear. It sputtered angrily and jerked backward, then drove forward.

“This isn’t going to turn into a tour of Sundham, Delaware, is it?” Harper asked. “You’re not going to try to show me all the sights in hopes I’ll come here?”

Marcy glanced up at the rearview, apparently meeting Gemma’s eyes for some kind of confirmation. Harper leaned over the seat to look back at her, and Gemma sighed and stared out the windows.

“Just take her to the bookstore,” Gemma told Marcy.

“Seriously?” Harper groaned and laid her head against the headrest. “You guys know that my issue with going to college has nothing to do with the town itself or even the college? I think Sundham and the university are perfectly fine. That’s why I picked here in the first place.”

“We were only trying to remind you how good your choices were.” Gemma faced her. “We thought maybe if you saw how awesome things were here, you’d be more enticed to go.”

“How did you even get involved with this?” Harper asked, turning her attention to Marcy. “You don’t want me to leave. Then you’ll have to spend all your time with Edie.”

“Yes, it’s true, it would benefit me if you lived in Capri forever, doing all the work that I don’t want to do,” Marcy admitted. “But it may surprise you to learn that I’m not the most selfish person on the planet. I know it’s in your best interest to go to college, so when Gemma asked me to help her convince you, I said sure.”

Of course Harper wanted to go. She’d worked her entire life for this. But it was for the same reason that Gemma was trying to convince her to go that Harper didn’t want to go—she loved her sister too much to stand by and let her destroy her life.

“The drive went by so fast, didn’t it?” Gemma asked when it had been a few minutes since Harper had said anything. “If you were speeding, I bet you could make it back to Capri in less than a half hour. That’s really not much time. If something happened, you could be back like that.”

“Let’s just go to the bookstore,” Harper said. “Maybe we’ll figure out a way to break the curse, and then this will all be a moot point.”

Marcy did as she was told, driving through town. If Harper had been looking around, she probably would’ve thought it was quaint—wide streets with potted flowers hanging from old-fashioned lampposts.

But she didn’t look. She just slouched in her seat while Marcy sang along absently to “Take Me as I Am.”

The car jerked to a stop abruptly, and Harper had to brace her hands on the dashboard to keep from flying into the windshield.

“What happened?” Harper asked as the Gremlin fell silent. “Did your car just die?”

“No, my car didn’t die. She would never die.” Marcy glared over at Harper. “My dad bought her used when he was sixteen, and he gave her to me when I turned sixteen, and she hasn’t died once in the past twenty-nine years.”

“Twenty-nine years?” Gemma asked. “How is that even possible? My car is, like, fifteen years old, and I can’t keep it running.”

“It’s all about proper maintenance and love,” Marcy said. “I love Lucinda, and Lucinda loves me.”

“Your car’s name is Lucinda?” Harper asked.

“My dad named her. Now get out of the car. We’re here.” Marcy opened the driver’s-side door and got out.

Harper looked out the window to see where it was that they were. They’d parked in front of a quirky little place nestled in between a flower shop and craft store.

The sign above the arch had
CHERRY LANE BOOKS
written in huge letters, and it creaked and groaned, even when there wasn’t a breeze. The wood was dark gray, nearly black. The bookstore’s front window was tinted too dark to see through.

Harper got out, and since the car was a two-door, she held the seat forward so Gemma could get out. She glanced around, admiring the neighborhood. Every other place on the street had cheery storefronts with bright colors, flower boxes, and signs in the window supporting the football team.

“Hey, Marcy, why is this called Cherry Lane?” Harper asked and pointed to the street sign at the end of the block. “This is Main Street.”

“It’s a reference to ‘Puff the Magic Dragon,’” Marcy explained. “It was Lydia’s favorite song when she was a kid.”

“Are you sure it’s open?” Harper asked as they walked toward the door.

The sign hanging on the door said
CLOSED SUNDAYS.
Sunday had been the only day that both Harper and Marcy had off, and Gemma didn’t have play rehearsal.

“I called ahead. She said she’d open it for me today.”

Marcy pushed open the door, and the bell above it chimed when she stepped inside. The scent of old books and incense wafted over Harper as she followed.

At first it seemed like a normal bookstore, with brightly colored displays of the new Danielle Steel book and a section of movie tie-ins, but, even from where Harper stood near the front door, she could tell that it held something darker in the back.

“Lydia?” Marcy called and started heading back to the dimly lit back corner of the store. “Lydia?”

“Are we supposed to follow her?” Harper asked Gemma quietly. Her sister just shrugged, then went after Marcy.

Harper had expected to see cobwebs clogging every corner, but there weren’t any. The walls were lined with books that looked about a thousand years old, except for one shelf that was filled with tarot cards, dead flowers, and weird stones. Naturally, that was where Marcy stopped.

“I don’t know where Lydia is, but the stuff that you’re looking for, it would be in this section.” Marcy gestured around her at the shelves overflowing with seemingly ancient texts.

Since Harper didn’t know exactly what they were looking for, she began to scan the shelves. Gemma crouched down, picking up a flesh-colored book below the weird stones. Harper ran her fingers against the spines of the books, and they felt worn and soft beneath her fingertips.

She spotted one that had no words on it—only a weird symbol. It looked familiar to her, so she plucked the book down and flipped it open. The pages felt like they might disintegrate in her hands, and it smelled distinctly of dirt.

“My god, where does Lydia get these books?” Harper asked, genuinely awed by what she found. “I think this is written in Sumerian.”

“What’s that?” Gemma came over to see what the fuss was about. Since she was shorter than Harper, she had to crane her neck a bit to read over Harper’s shoulder. “That’s not a language. Those are just shapes and symbols.”

“That’s how it was written,” Harper said. “It’s a dead language.”

“How do you know it?” Gemma asked.

“I don’t
know
it. Like, I have no idea what any of this is saying. I kind of recognize some of the symbols.” Harper ran her hand along the page. “I took an elective last year, Advanced Languages of the World. I thought the Latin part would help me with medical terminology.”

“So then … that doesn’t say anything about sirens?” Marcy asked.

“Probably not, but this is
really
old,” Harper said and carefully put the book back on the shelf. “You can’t just go pick that up at a garage sale or any old used book store.”

“I told you this wasn’t any old used book store,” Marcy said.

“Many of the books I get come from private dealers who wish to remain anonymous,” came a voice from behind them, and Harper whirled around to see a petite woman walking down the aisle toward them.

She looked to be in her mid-twenties, with black hair kept in a short pixie cut, which suited her, since she reminded Harper of a pixie. Her dark brown eyes appeared almost too large for her face, especially considering how delicate her features were. Her clothes were pastel and chiffon, looking much less goth than Harper had imagined the owner of this establishment would look.

“Hey, Lydia,” Marcy said, her voice the same monotone it always was, so Harper couldn’t really tell how happy she was to see her friend. “These are the people I was telling you about, Harper and Gemma.”