Marcy thanked Lydia again, and Lydia promised she’d be in contact soon. They went outside, Gemma’s head swimming with everything Lydia had told her.
“So,” Marcy said once they were both sitting inside her Gremlin. “How do you kill a siren?”
Gemma unfolded the paper to find a photocopied illustration from an old book. It showed exactly what needed to be done, including a detailed diagram with suggested weapons written in English.
Marcy leaned over, peering at it. “That doesn’t look so bad.” Then she pointed to a particularly vicious-looking ax/spike combo labeled as a battleax. “It’d be easier if you had one of those, though.”
TWENTY-SIX
Surrender
When Aiden had called to ask her out later that night, Gemma couldn’t think of a reason to say no. Actually, she could think of a million reasons, but between the mounting hunger, the suffocating heat, and the increasing impossibility that she would find a way to save herself, she needed a break.
She knew she needed to redouble her efforts to find the scroll, but since she was pretty sure it was with the sirens, she’d have to battle to get it. Thanks to Lydia, that might be a bit easier now, although Gemma still wasn’t sure she’d be able to actually go through with it. It looked brutal.
But she wanted to wait until Harper was gone. It was only a few more days until she left for college, and then Harper would be a half hour away, getting on with her life and safe from any kind of retaliation the sirens might want to dish out.
So for the next few days, Gemma’s only plan was to look up ways to destroy the scroll, keep her hunger in check, and avoid the sirens—well, at least Penn and Lexi. When she looked at it that way, Aiden calling her was a bit of serendipity.
Aiden picked her up for their date, and Brian emerged from the garage long enough to vaguely threaten him not to hurt or deflower his daughter. He didn’t seem to approve of the pairing, eyeing Aiden’s luxury car with disdain, but he let Gemma go out anyway, probably sensing that she needed an escape.
As far as dates went, theirs went pretty well. Dinner at the yacht club overlooking the bay. It was a little ritzier than Gemma felt comfortable around, but Aiden ordered white wine and poured her a glass. She’d only ever snuck a drink of her dad’s beer on a dare once before, and even though food didn’t really taste the same afterward, sipping the wine felt exotic and mature.
The meal ended up running long, so they skipped the movie, and Aiden took her to one of the clubs off the beach. This Gemma did not like. It was crowded and too hot.
But the solution to that was simple—they left. Everything else was closed on a Sunday night, so Aiden took her back home. Harper’s car was still gone, and the house was dark, so Gemma assumed her dad was in bed.
“I had a nice time tonight,” Gemma said as they sat in his parked car. He’d left it on, so the air-conditioning was keeping them cool, and Gotye was playing softly on his stereo.
“Me, too.” Aiden rested his head against his seat as he looked over at Gemma, and he smiled. There was something absolutely dazzling about his smile, and his brown eyes sparkled.
“I don’t really want it to end yet,” she admitted.
He reached over and used his finger to caress the back of her hand. “Maybe it doesn’t have to.”
“Yeah?” Gemma asked hopefully and bit her lip. “What did you have in mind?”
Aiden leaned toward her, his eyes searching hers as a confident smile played on his lips. The moment his mouth touched hers in a tempestuous kiss, his tongue tasting of cool mint from an Altoid, a strange satisfaction settled over her.
This was the physical contact she’d been craving. He fed into desires she didn’t even want to admit having. His mouth was a bit too forceful, and his hands were too strong on her arms and waist, but that only added to the excitement.
Her skin fluttered, the pleasurable way it did before it transformed, but Gemma pushed it down. She silenced the monster inside her, the one that Aiden’s kisses had woken up. A flush went through her, and she let out a soft moan.
That spurred Aiden on, and he reached down, hitting a button on the side of the seat so it would go back farther.
“That’s better,” he said in a husky whisper once the seat was lying flat like a bed, and Gemma laughed a little.
He’d climbed on top of her then, his body feeling heavy and powerful over her. Part of her was aware that there was something dangerous about this, that he had put her in a position where it was hard for her to move or fight back, but the hunger-lust was blocking out those concerns.
Gemma didn’t want to think or worry about or fear anything. She just let the moment consume her.