He ran over to her and pulled her into his arms, probably hugging her more tightly than he should’ve, but she didn’t complain. She hugged him back, and he lifted her off the ground.
Then he set her down to get a better look at her. He brushed the hair back from her face and looked her in the eyes. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah.” She smiled. “What about you?”
He grinned. “Never better.” Then he looked at the gash running down her arm from her inner elbow to her palm. “Your arm. You need stitches.”
“No, it looks worse than it is,” Harper assured him. “It’s not that deep. I don’t think it hit any of the major veins.”
His eyes darted around the bedroom, looking for something to wrap Harper’s arm with. Penn had torn his shirt to bits, so it was little more than fabric and confetti; and he doubted that Harper would want to use the silk sheets Penn had just tried to bed Daniel on, even in an emergency.
Penn had draped a shawl across her headboard, and it was still there, so Daniel ran over and pulled it off. The fabric felt like gauzy satin, so it didn’t feel superabsorbent, but it would help slow the blood flow at least.
“Here.” He wrapped it around Harper’s arm, tying it tighter just below her elbow, so it would work like a tourniquet. “That’ll tide you over.”
“What’s going on? Is the party over?” Marcy asked.
Daniel glanced over the railing just as Marcy and Thea came into the house. Marcy looked a little rough, but Thea looked like she’d really been through hell. She was fully human, no wings or claws, but she was completely covered in blood.
As soon as Gemma saw Thea, she took off downstairs and ran over to her.
“Every time I come to this house, there’s a decapitated body in the living room,” Marcy said. But she didn’t seem to mind it. She crouched to inspect Penn’s headless, winged body.
Gemma and Thea stood in the doorway, talking in hushed murmurs to one another. Daniel put his arm around Harper and watched them with his brow furrowed.
“Is everyone here?” Daniel asked, and looked around. “Is everyone okay?”
“Liv and Penn are dead,” Alex said, and Daniel looked over at him for the first time. Then Alex’s expression darkened. “But Kirby didn’t make it.”
“Oh, no,” Harper whispered.
“How are you holding up?” Daniel asked. “You look pretty banged up.”
Alex glanced down at his shirt, which was stained red with blood. “Most of this isn’t mine. I’ve been hugging Gemma a lot. So I’m okay.”
“So is this curse broken then?” Daniel asked.
“I don’t know,” Harper admitted. “Diana said that if we killed Penn, we wouldn’t need to break the curse. But Gemma still seemed to have her siren strength when she opened the bathroom door.”
“She just healed up. Maybe the siren blood hasn’t completely evaporated,” Alex suggested.
Harper shook her head, like she wasn’t convinced, then stepped away from Daniel and walked over to the railing. “What’s going on? Is the curse broken?”
Gemma turned and smiled thinly up at her. “Yeah. It’s over.”
“But…” Harper trailed off, and Daniel stepped behind her and gently put his hand on her back. “You’re still strong, and Thea is still here. I thought if the curse was broken, she’d turn to dust.”
“That was one theory, but it’s wrong,” Gemma said.
“Then what’s the correct theory?” Daniel asked, and Gemma glanced back to Thea, like she needed answers herself.
“That we’ll just slowly become mortal again,” Thea supplied. “The siren powers will slowly drain from our body over the next few days, then we’ll be regular humans again. I’ll live out a natural, human life.”
“Then how do you know it’s over?” Harper asked. “If nothing’s changed, then how can you be sure?”
“We didn’t say nothing’s changed,” Gemma corrected her. “I can feel it. Inside.” She paused, and her cheeks darkened. “I’m not as hungry.”
“So you’re sure?” Harper asked again.
Gemma nodded. “Yes. I’m sure.”
Thea said something to Gemma too quiet for Daniel or anyone up in the loft to hear. Then Gemma nodded, Thea turned and walked away. Gemma hugged herself and watched as Thea departed.
“What happened?” Harper asked. “Where is she going?”
“She wanted to go see the mountains or the plains or a desert.” Gemma shrugged. “Anywhere she hasn’t been able to see in thousands of years.”
“So what does that mean?” Harper asked. “Are we finally free of the sirens?”
“Yes.” Gemma let out a deep breath. “We’re finally free.”
FIFTY-THREE
Depletion
“I swear, Dad, breakfast has never tasted this good,” Harper said as she shoveled another forkful of scrambled eggs into her mouth.
Brian watched her eat with a mixture of amusement and surprise. “I’ve made you this same thing a hundred times before.”