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  Until now I thought it was good for them.

  Big surprise The League would pick his Queen. I had to convince Asher to turn his back on them. Worse, when he rejected me, I’d turn to stone.

  There was more to the ad than Teal read out loud. The King seeks a Queen who is physically and mentally strong, with an appreciation for creativity and the arts. He enjoys long conversations about a variety of topics, and everything the Kingdom of Chronopolis has to offer. The Queen will represent the city at many social events, and she should be at ease with crowds, and able to charm even the most surly diplomat.

  I could check off every one of those boxes. A picture of Asher in traditional Chronopolian formal wear—a black, high-collared shirt adorned with golden and copper embroidery the same hue as his hair—smiled at me from the bottom of the post. It was followed by a photo of him at his most majestic, fully shifted into a phoenix. His crimson and gold wings were spread to show their impressive span, and tipped with honeyed feathers. No matter what his form, his golden eyes never changed.

  I couldn’t stop staring at them.

  Penelope grabbed the phone from me, considering the photo on the screen before offering a sad smile. Deep down inside, I believed she had some sympathy for me. It wasn’t an emotion either of us had ever been up close and personal with. “Whether he wrote it or not, he approved it.”

  “Answer the ad,” Teal suggested, wiggling her eyebrows. I knew this look all too well. The shit-eating grin. The light dancing in her eyes. It often ended in someone spending the rest of their days at the bottom of the ocean. “But use a fake name. See if he really wants what you have to offer. Then he can’t reject you on the premise that you’re…you.”

  “Sure, and when he gives it the thank you but fuck you, I’ll go from being your best friend to your pet rock.”

  “It’s not a bad idea,” Penelope added. “He wants you. It’s absolute agony to rise from the dead, according to the vampires. How often are the two of you together?”

  I shrugged. “A couple times a month, maybe?”

  “So he’s not with anyone else, either. He’s dead as much as he’s alive. Let’s just say for shits and giggles he approved this ad to call The League’s bluff, because he doesn’t think such a woman exists in the nearby Kingdoms. Except for you.”

  I liked where she was going with this.

  “So if he gets an application from some random woman who is absolutely everything he wants, he won’t ignore it. He can’t. He needs a Queen or he’s out on his ass. You show up, and he knows what the consequences are if he turns you away.”

  “That’s exactly what I’m afraid of.” I sank down on the bench and turned toward the ocean. It was gentle today, the waves lapping against the side of the boat, encouraging us to come play. “I’m a failed Queen. The League won’t approve me. You’ll be wheeling my statue on stage every night.” My limbs already felt heavy.

  Whether he wanted me or not, Asher planned to choose another. I had to move on. My life literally depended on it.

  We only played at The Alibi on weekends. The League deemed it too disruptive to both Chronopolis and The Bay if we lured men away from their homes and their jobs on week nights, and they asked us to change our schedule. In an act of sticking our middle fingers up at them, we initially ignored the request. Their response was to charge a toll to any male resident who ventured beyond city walls during the week. Many Chronopolis residents kept The Bay running, and since we didn’t want to punish innocent people and cause more unrest between The Bay and Chronopolis, we agreed to get hobbies.

  Mine was yoga. At first I never thought I’d be able to do it. As Queen, I never had the luxury of slowing down and letting my mind quiet.

  It was paradise.

  For the first time in decades, I remembered what it actually meant to be a siren. To be a creature of passion and not one of destruction. I reconnected with the sea. I’d lived here all my life, and I’d been too busy, too important to stop and watch its wonder. I was a part of it as much as it was a part of me. My practice changed my perspective on everything.

  I dragged Teal and Penelope with me to class, but they didn’t give it a chance. I didn’t let them, laughing at my new age crap as they so lovingly called it, take away my joy. Instead, I became an instructor and built a following who understood the benefits of the practice. I led my classes on the beach at sunset, and it was no surprise I’d grown a healthy following of mostly males.

  Tonight I desperately needed to find center. Along with the other things I’d found through my practice, I realized I did have a heart. The same place inside me that painfully wanted so much more with Asher than was ever possible also bled for my victims. It didn’t matter what they’d done, the look in their eyes as they took their last breath on land left a scar behind.

  More than anything, I needed to figure out a way to let Asher go without becoming a casualty myself; to find a way to escape the emptiness his absence ushered in. It wasn’t just love or the future I was giving up. It was The Bay and my past. Everything I was and all the things I wanted to be. A few asanas didn’t have a prayer of fixing it, but I had to start somewhere.

  The girls had gone out for the night. They were more streamlined in their pursuits than I was. Siren’s Song had been banned from playing Monday through Thursday, but it didn’t stop Teal and Penelope from protecting The Bay from those we deemed evil. I relished having the boat to myself, especially when I’d been lulled into a daze from yoga class. Coming home to those two sometimes was as peaceful as stepping on broken glass.

  They’d tacked a note to the refrigerator on top of a bigger piece of paper. If you want to get His Majesty off your mind, come out and play! It’s never too late to get bingo! I peeled the post-it away from the bingo board. Some of the items they were on the hunt for were men wearing Chronopolis T-shirts, socks with sandals, catcalled at me, packing heat, and brags about size of cock (and lies).

  Typical Tuesday night in The Bay. I’d let them battle it out like little old ladies at a church hall and they could tell me all about it when they got back to the boat. Instead I put on my pajamas, poured myself a glass of wine, and put on a bluesy online radio station that Asher loved.

  When I put the bingo board down on the table, I noticed an envelope with my only my first name typed across it. The girls kept no secrets from anyone, and I wasn’t that up close and personal with the bill collectors. My heart pounded as I ripped it open, wishing Asher had written my name instead.

  My beautiful Avila,

  Please let me explain myself. It’s hard for me to express what I’m thinking in anyway besides touch when you’re so close to me. Your naked body overwhelms me, and my brain is the first thing to burn.

  It’s happening again. Just the thought of touching you is distracting me from my mission.

  I should’ve never tried to talk to you about this while we were in bed together. I’d planned to do it earlier in the night, but nothing ever goes like I plan when you’re around. I get lost in the whirlwind of your spirit and get impatient for my favorite part--burning in the tailwind. I love what you do to me, the way you make the fire rise from deep inside.

  Chronopolis is in chaos. Everyone knows it, but it’s hard for me to say out loud. It’s admitting failure. But it’s not the failure you think it is. The League, the organization that made me what I was, failed me. It was their suggestion that Chronopolis turn a blind eye to the chaos in The Bay that cost you your crown. First it was that the pirates were no concern. But the pirates overpowered The Bay, and then The League said we shouldn’t associate with weakness. Although I am the face of the city, I am not its voice. Mine gets drown out in the chorus of The League. And unlike Siren’s Song, they don’t know how to carry a tune.

  Now I realize it was by design. The pirates have gone much further than The Bay. They’re inside Chronopolis. By some reports, some of them are working for The League. We’re creating our own weakness, and making bad decisions. I fear for m
y city. Not for me, I will always rise. But those who can’t are what keep me awake at night. I can’t fail them. I won’t.

  The League insists I take a Queen. They want me to align with an ally that will strengthen Chronopolis. We don’t agree on what that means. This time, I won’t let my voice be drown out in the chaos.

  Every time I rise, you make me stronger. I hope some part of me lingers with you.

  Always,

  Asher

  This whole getting over him thing was going to take a lot of work.

  I needed a new approach. Asher MacKay wasn’t the kind of man I’d stop thinking about, like I could push a button and make him go away. I had to face this head on. I couldn’t be afraid of the consequences. It was my own fault for messing with a man who wouldn’t simply just die when I was done with him.

  Because I wasn’t done with him.

  I wouldn’t let him get the last word.

  Asher,

  It’s the time of year that a cold breeze comes in off The Bay at night. It makes the boat sway gently in its dock, and I keep hoping to open my eyes and see you when I lay in my bed. But you’re not there, and I can’t get rid of the chill.

  I saw the ad The League placed for you. Penelope and Teal made sure I didn’t miss it. I think you actually do want some of those things. A strong mate, someone you look forward to coming home to, someone who loves adventure. They suggested I submit an application (because let’s face it, this is nothing more than a job interview. I won’t say what that makes your future Queen, because I’ll be tried for treason.) under a pseudonym to see if you’d choose me. Or someone who had all the qualities that made you willing to die for me night after night.

  There’s no reason to deny I’m having a hard time for this. I keep waiting for your call, to see your smile. I laugh at things we thought were funny, and the girls think I’m nuts. I miss you. I want this to be different. I’m not sure if reading your letter makes it better or worse. But yes, to answer your question. A part of you lingers with me. In a place I’ve never let anyone into before.

  You want more than you have, Asher, and it has nothing to do with the people of the city or being King. You want someone who appreciates the struggles of being you. Who understands when the lesser of two evils is really that and there’s no making everyone happy. When doing your best isn’t good enough, you need someone who can feel your heart beat as you do whatever you can to get the horrific images of the day out of your head. You need someone who can make you laugh and rock your world.

  The Bay has been an open wound since I was stripped of my title. Maybe that’s why you say you don’t want me, because I am a premonition of the disaster that would fall over your beloved land if you suffer the same fate. But together, we could help it heal. Peace in The Bay would mean the same for Chronopolis. The wall is crumbling, it’s no defense against intruders, and right now, neither is The Bay. Give us power, and we’ll fight to the death for you.

  We need each other. You want safety and a home. I want respect and a place I belong. We could give our people what they crave, and what some of them have never known. Stability. We fit together—fire and water creating smoke. You need a Queen who makes you whole.

  It wasn’t a traditional proclamation of love by a long shot. For all the men I’d been with and all the years I ruled The Bay, I was a complete novice when it came to showing affection. I wanted to be a part of something bigger than myself. United to fight with someone else.

  He’d never see the letter. Like all our time together, this one ended with a spark and a flicker. I brought the candle’s flame to the piece of paper, but couldn’t take my usual satisfaction in the flames. I longed for the fading echo of Asher’s caress. Carefully gathering the ashes of the letter, I scooped them into the bowl I used only for this purpose.

  The deck had grown colder as I wrote the letter. Chronopolis seemed to be at peace tonight, obscured in the fog, but as still as the ocean that separated us. I blew the ashes toward the only thing Asher loved more than me—his city—and hoped he got the message.

  Chapter Four

  Everywhere I went, all anyone could talk about was the search for a Queen. Even at The Alibi, the place men came to worship at the altar of Siren’s Song, it was all that fell from their lips. Every newsstand shouted stories about the women they thought were in the running to be picked, every shop window proclaimed they had the goods to give the common woman the edge she needed to be awarded the crown.

  It didn’t matter if the people of The Bay had supernatural powers or not, they all fancied themselves wizards when there was money to be made.

  The dull roar from inside of the city walls had fallen to a hush, but no more word from Asher. I didn’t expect him to stick to his word and go cold turkey on our relationship, or phoenix in his case. It stung. Each day I woke up with a gravity that I hadn’t experienced before. The heaviness in my heart was a constant whenever I was without him, but as too much time passed, it spread. My shoulders ached from the weight.

  I wrote most of the lyrics for Siren’s Song, and I was full poetry and pain that morning. The deck was only a few steps up from our living quarters, but I was winded by the time I reached the top. I could barely wrap my fingers around the neck of my guitar.

  No, this couldn’t be happening. I knew Asher still cared for me, and it wasn’t a rejection. If it was, I’d be as good as the anchor of this ship, and just as heavy. I had no idea if that was true, I was making up my own rules out of sheer panic.

  It didn’t matter how much it hurt, I had to play. I forced myself to strum the first few notes, letting instinct take over, my mind wandering to a place no map could find as the music poured out of me. I sang whatever came to the tip of my leaden tongue. My voice was lower than usual, and I couldn’t hold the notes very long. I had to rely on the breeze to carry them to their intended audience.

  With every shadow that moved in the corner of my eye or every creak of the old wooden floor, I expected to turn around and see him. Every beep of my phone I hoped to see a message. Every stray piece of paper I found I wished smelled like his cologne. And when I pulled my sore body to the stage to perform, I prayed I’d see him in the middle of the crowd, his gaze doing things to my body that no other man’s fingers could ever hope to achieve, and the promise of his lips brushing against my hard skin would take the heaviness away.

  I even sang the new song I wrote for him during that night’s show, desperate for the speakers and the voices of the crowd to carry the music to the Kingdom.

  “You have to pick someone tonight,” Teal pleaded with me after the show. I was thankful I hadn’t been booed off the stage after that performance. I could barely move. She picked up my hand, her eyes growing wide when she felt the weight of it. She did her best to hide her reaction, but it was useless. “I’m worried about you.”

  I shook my head. “They’ll know.”

  “They can’t possibly know.” Penelope ran her hand over my hair. “They’ll think you’re just a lousy lay like every other human woman they’ve been with.”

  Normally I would’ve laughed, but I couldn’t.

  Teal frowned, knowing this was no joke. “What if we bring you someone?”

  I needed to buy myself a little bit of time. “Tomorrow night. I’ll be back in the groove. The energy from the crowd makes me feel better.”

  She wrapped her pinky around my stiff finger. “Promise me.”

  “I promise.” Now leave me alone, I wanted to add. The ladies lingered a little too long before meeting their victims, like they thought I might change my mind, but they finally left without me.

  One of the bodyguards drove me back to the marina and helped me onto the boat. He didn’t take advantage of me; knowing exactly what would happen if he did. Still, I was grateful I didn’t have to deal with it. More because I was afraid in this state, I could actually be overpowered. I’d never been more terrified in my life. I didn’t have the luxury of showing it.

  The other thin
g I was thankful for was the bottle of wine that waited for me in the refrigerator.

  I didn’t drink often. My powers demanded my full capacities at all times. I didn’t have the option of bad decisions, because when dealing with mortals, all decisions were final. The first few sour sips made me wince since I’d never developed a taste for it. But I wasn’t one to quit when I decided on a goal. I brought the entire bottle to my bedroom along with the newspaper one of my roommates had left on the kitchen counter. It was time to face the truth, even if it was through a grape-soaked veneer. Not one person in the Kingdom considered me as a potential Queen, even though I was the only one fit for the title. But what was worse, Asher didn’t either.

  Queen Mania had yet to subside. The front page of the paper was plastered with pretty faces grinning at me, those bitches knowing they had something I didn’t. A chance. According to anonymous sources, a shape shifter, a spell caster, and a fucking human were all in the running to win His Majesty’s affection.

  Never.

  All they’d done was fold the paper inside out; moved the society page to the top of the heap. I skimmed the list of each woman’s accomplishments. They read much like a pageant application. The swimsuit competition would surely be coming soon. Many of them were active in the Kingdom, helping rebuild buildings ruined in attacks or helping the less fortunate citizens of the city. Admirable without a doubt, but none of it even hinted at leadership qualities.

  I wasn’t bitter, I was being realistic. Someone had to be. Asher wasn’t marrying for love. He was marrying for advantage. The least he could do was give himself one.