“Let’s say you were trying. Could you captivate the whole crowd?” Gemma asked as she applied her blush more heavily than she normally would. The lights from the stage required darker makeup to show up.
“If I wanted to, yes.” Thea’s eyes narrowed behind her long lashes. “What are you getting at? Are you planning on raising a small army?”
“No. I just don’t completely understand how the siren song works.” Gemma set aside her makeup and turned to face Thea directly, so they weren’t talking to each other through the mirror.
“It’s simple. You sing, you control whoever hears the song.”
“But for how long?” Gemma asked, trying to keep her words from sounding as desperate and hopeful as they felt.
Ever since her heated visit with Alex yesterday, Gemma hadn’t been able to stop thinking about what it meant. Why did kissing him seem to have a positive effect on him? And why wasn’t he angry and filled with hate anymore?
She’d assumed that once the siren song was in place, it would be that way forever. But with Alex, something else was going on.
Unless, of course, it was just as she’d feared, and Alex had fallen out of love with her on his own.
“It depends. The more you mean it, the more you project, the longer the effects of the song will be active,” Thea explained.
“But eventually they will fade?” Gemma pressed.
“Sorta.” Thea shook her head, like that wasn’t exactly how she would put it. “Like with Sawyer. Penn told him that he loved her, and he had to give us his house. If he hadn’t died, and she’d left him, eventually he would’ve stopped being infatuated and obsessed with her. But he would still believe the house was hers even if he lived to be ninety.”
Gemma leaned back in her seat, letting out a crestfallen breath. “I don’t understand. If he was still following her orders, and she ordered him to love her, how is he able to stop?”
“The siren song is all about giving orders. Do this, don’t do that, give me this, go there,” Thea elaborated. “But Demeter made it precisely so it had no effect over the heart. It can’t change who a person is. If you hate peach cobbler, the siren song can make you eat it, even smile as you chow it down, but you’ll never actually like it.”
“But what if you keep eating peach cobbler? Will you remember you hate it?” Gemma asked.
“If there’s not a siren constantly whispering in your ear, telling you that you love it, then yes, you probably would.” Thea paused, and when she spoke again, her voice was lower and huskier than normal. “Love and hate are very powerful emotions that sirens have no control over, no matter how much Penn likes to pretend we do.”
“So when Penn commanded Sawyer to love her, he never really did,” Gemma said, affirming what she’d always known. As soon as she’d been cursed, the sirens had told her that mortal men could never love them. “He just acted the way a person in love with her would act.”
“And Penn does know that. She just finds that people are easier to control when they believe they’re in love with her.”
“Your heart doesn’t change. You still love or don’t love who you always have,” Gemma said to herself, her words quiet and breathy, and Thea cocked her head.
Yes, the sirens told her that men would never love her, but Alex had. He’d been able to because he always had, and maybe he still did. The siren song couldn’t change the way he felt about her, and when she kissed him, it helped remind him of how he really felt, of who he really was, and it dragged him out from underneath the fog of the spell.
After all of this, he might still love her, and as the realization hit Gemma, she couldn’t help but smile.
A loud knocking interrupted her elation, and she turned to see her dad pushing open the Marilyn door to the dressing room.
“I hope we’re not intruding,” Harper said as she squeezed in beside their dad.
He nearly gasped when Gemma smiled up at him, and his words were barely audible when he said, “You look so much like Nathalie.”
She lowered her eyes, and her cheeks flushed a little. “Aw, thanks, Dad.”
Thea looked at Harper in the mirror, her green eyes flat. “Hello, Gemma’s family.”
“Hey, Thea.” Harper smiled thinly at her.
“Hello, Thea,” Brian said, nearly growling at her, and Gemma saw his hand clench into a fist at his side.
Brian knew what Thea was now, that she and Penn were sirens. His natural instinct was to yell at them and tell them to leave his daughter alone, but since their siren song could still work on him, Harper and Gemma tried to get him to interact with them as little as possible. That was hard for him sometimes, especially at times like this, when all he really wanted to do was wring Thea’s neck.