Chapter 13: Bloodties - Hunger & Harmony

Carved amongst limestone waves and maritime adornments, this statue remains the crown jewel of this old opera house, even in the quiet of the night. Moonlight scatters across the dead leaves near the placard, two simple words proclaiming the statue’s title: The Siren.

Familiarity settles my nerves as I stand here, even if I’ve only dared to meet her stone eyes a handful of times. While it was the closest I got to a big city before leaving home, this timeless statue is more out of place in downtown Halcyon Fields than I remember, with farmland surrounding for miles.

Huddling into my coat, I let my gaze go past the statue to the entrance. Staunch pillars, and flawless stone and brick command the Gothic structure’s full regard, even with an audience of one. It’s humbling how full circle it feels to be back. I used to beg for tickets here. Not even my wildest fantasies had me coming in through the artist’s entrance.

We’re a day early. Redmare was both a nightmare and a daydream, and I’m grateful for our smooth exit. Ezren’s mischief is slowly returning, and Selene seems more at ease.

Truth be told, a certain chocolate bar made its way into my luggage.

I don’t like sweets, but I like him. How hard and fast this infatuation has deepened is a little alarming, but I think I like that, too. Adventure and the unknown have always been my thing, right? Nothing more reckless than falling for a vampire king.

Butterflies flutter in my stomach. “Juice box” has suddenly become “cherry cheeks.” I suppress a smile. In the end, Niko is hardly maintaining his resistance. Cute.

I should be up in the clouds right now, but the anxiety eating away at my bliss is sobering. The hour-and-a-half proximity to my hometown is making my skin crawl, and my phone has been off since we got here.

I’ve had enough fresh air. I'd better get back before Lorelai comes searching.

My eyes linger on the siren statue as I back up. I want to remember her, even more than I used to. Not that anything’s the same. I crave something different now that I’m here on my own terms. Maybe an approval she won’t give. Maybe answers she doesn’t know.

I turn on my sneakers and scurry across the plaza. This part of the city has ritzy shops and high-rise glamor, though it’s still small enough that everything’s closed until daybreak. It’s nearly four in the morning, but there’s a bounce in my walk as I cross into the warmth of the hotel. I’m used to this witching hour schedule.

Rumbles sound off from my stomach as I enter the lobby. Thankfully, the hotel’s ground floor restaurant is open all hours.

But when I change course and turn, my appetite dies.

“Hey, uh, Cadence . . .” Lorelai says as she approaches, her fake meek tone not fooling me.

It helps that I see my parents sitting on the other end of the lobby.

“Your parents are here. I assumed you knew?” she asks, and every breathing technique I can think of fails me.

What the fuck. They ambushed me. I don’t know how, but they managed it. If I had to guess, my first thought is Viola. I clench my teeth, willing myself not to react in any kind of way. Good or bad.

Especially when I see Ryel and Niko. In the shadows of the hallway leading to the elevators, they hang just outside of my parents' view. Their full attention is on me, anyway.

Even from here, I can see the furrow of Niko’s brows. I wish I could muster any kind of reassuring gesture when our eyes meet.

Ryel, on the other hand, looks ready to throw me to the wolves.

I want to scream. Run away. Preferably into Niko’s arms. As far away from my parents as I can manage. With everyone right here, and even the front desk staff idly watching, I have no choice but to play nice.

And they know it.

Sucking in a silent breath, I then nod to Lorelai.

“Yeah, sorry,” I say, and she tuts softly.

“You should always inform us if relatives are visiting.”

I understand completely. There’s no way to tell the truth when they’re getting up from their seats and approaching, though.

“Noted,” I say, though she feels further away the closer they are. Like they’re ripping me from my current reality and trying to drag me back to theirs.

“Oh, Cadence!” my mom exclaims, nearly knocking Lorelai over as she forces me into a hug.

“Hey there, freckle-face,” my dad says, remaining off to the side. That nickname feels like an old pair of shoes that doesn’t fit anymore.

“Hey.”

I ease myself out of her tight embrace, a potent mix of annoyance and dread settling in as Lorelai excuses herself and leaves me with them.

Even in the obscured lighting of this nighttime lobby, they look the same as always. Silver weaves through my mom’s strawberry-blonde ponytail, and what’s left of dad’s hair is completely gray. My eyes match his warm, button-brown ones, unlike my mom’s blue eyes.

I’ve always hated this cheery facade. Down to their cozy, matching flannel, they’ve always weaponized their small-town charm. Sheryl Monroe runs the local daycare, and no baby fusses when in her arms. The town couldn’t run without Old Dale’s mechanical expertise, either.

I’m the only one who has a problem, right? I’m the fussy baby, and the only mistake they’ve ever made. Even school friends would point out how “lucky” I am to have loving parents whose marriage is still going strong.

I feel the furthest thing from blessed when under their watchful eyes.

“You look tired, honey,” my mom says, and I cross my arms.

“I’m fine,” I say. “What’re you doing here? It’s pretty late for y’all.”

“Oh, we’re in town for a get-together,” my dad drawls. “We just got here, and of course, we wanted to see you. It’s been too long.”

Yeah, sure. A get-together in the middle of the night.

“Well, you’ve seen me,” I snap. “I’ve got work to do, so if you could⁠—”

“We wanted to talk more about that,” my mom says, and my muscles tighten.

“What’s there to talk about?”

Out of the corner of my eye, Niko withdraws. Only Ryel lingers, his arms tight across his chest as he leans against the corner. While part of me wants to be upset, I’m thankful for Niko’s polite departure. I need the space to deal with my parents without worrying about them confronting anyone. Worst of all, him.

“C’mon, you were out there in the dark. Let’s get something to eat,” my mom says, and they work together to usher me away.

This isn’t how I envisioned getting dinner. Stiffly sitting on the other side of this cushy booth, my parents staring at me as I read the menu without registering a thing. I’m pretty sure they just ordered for me, but I didn’t hear what the waiter said. How could a homey restaurant feel so hostile?

I’d bet my life that Viola called them. Of course she did. It’s taken me so long to see she’s not far from them. Everyone always thinks I need saving.

“So . . .” my mom starts.

“You’re an assistant?” he asks, finishing her sentence.

The disappointment is far outweighed by their restlessness. All of their rules have unraveled in mere weeks. I know it bothers them, and their anxiety is barely masked by strained smiles. I hate it. They’ve never had a valid reason for their strict ban on music, and now what?

“I am,” I say, my words slow but firm. “I’m Arteria’s PA.”

Saying it out-loud, and seeing their faces contort in pure horror . . .I almost can’t put a word to how it feels. Freeing. Thrilling. Terrifying, too.

I don’t back down. As they try to rearrange their discomfort into benevolence, I remain steady.

“Well, we are proud of you . . . securing a job,” my dad says, gesturing awkwardly. “Of course, there was an expectation of finishing your degree and⁠—”

“Finance isn’t for me,” I say with a shrug.

There’s a nonchalance I’ve never felt before. Bit by bit, it grows stronger. The band-aid is off, and the world hasn’t ended. Because now I have options. There’s something beyond them and their expectations to return to.

“Honey, you’re a very smart girl,” my mom placates, and I nod.

“I know.” I look them both in the face before I say, “Which is why I made my own decision.”

Silence follows. A zip of giddiness has my toes wiggling in my shoes. I have to keep it together, though. I can’t be too hasty.

Especially when my mom’s right eye twitches a little. I keep my head high.

“We want you to be safe,” she continues. “Going off to some unknown city . . . and even touring? That’s very exhausting and dangerous, Cadence.”

“Not really,” I say, not stopping even when the waiter returns with plates. “I’ve been doing pretty well.”

Before the waiter can tell us to enjoy and leave again, my mom reaches across the table. Her elbow nearly smashes into my plate when she snatches my arm, and I gasp when her fingers find my inner wrist.

“Mom . . .!”

“Still beating.”

She glances at my dad as she says that. His shoulders visibly relax.

The initial stun wears off, and I rip my arm away from hers.

“What the fuck?”

My eyes find the waiter. He awkwardly shuffles his weight, like he’s wondering if he should do something.

“You know what?” I start scooting out of the booth. “I’m done.”

“No,” my mom says. “Stay there. We’re not done.”

“I am.”

I’m already standing when my dad raises his voice.

“Cadence, don’t cause a scene. Let’s just enjoy dinner and continue our talk.”

Walking away is the best option.

Fury roots me to the spot, and has me turning to glare at them both.

“Don’t lie to yourselves and say I’m the one causing a scene.”

His nostrils flare, and my mom lets her frown free.

“Why are you so angry?” she asks, my heart slamming against my ribcage harder. “We just want you to be safe. Those leeches⁠—”

I can barely breathe. My hands shake as I point a finger at her, a low hiss forming my words.

“Don’t speak about them like that.”

That shuts them up. I can’t tell if it’s hurt, confusion, or a healthy dose of both written on their faces.

“You don’t know them. You don’t know anything!” I press my hand to my wildly pumping heart. “You don’t even know me.”

“We—”

“You have nothing to say to that,” I say as I cut him off. “You don’t know me. You don’t even care to! All you want is to elbow your way back into my life and tell me what to do. Can you guess what I don’t have to put up with anymore? Exactly that.”

I let that marinate for a beautiful moment. Tears pool in my eyes, but a smile tugs at my lips.

“No one is endangering me. I love my job. And you know what? Yes, I do. I love music. I love touring, and traveling, and freedom. It’s not vampires that deny me that. They . . .They’re normal. Way more than the two of you combined.”

My dad is so red in the face, I wonder if he’ll blow steam. My mom, on the other hand, has never looked at me like this. Like I’m more than a compliant kid. Like I’m someone worth calling a threat.

I turn to the waiter, who is stunned and clearly trying to disappear into the floor.

“Sorry,” I say to him. “I’ll come back and pay. Just please make sure they leave.”

“No worries,” my mom says, her facade snuffed out. “We won’t stay where we’re not wanted.”

“Sherry—”

“You heard her, Dale,” she says, giving my dad a hard stare. “Vampires are normal.”

She says the word like it’s venom in her mouth. I’m completely blindsided by their hatred for vampires. This whole time, I thought it was only music. But as they stride away, and I shakily sit back down, my eyes drop.

I half-scoff, half-laugh as I glance over the plate they ordered me. A big breakfast, with chocolate pancakes at the heart of it. My least favorite.

Not only do they not know me, but maybe I don’t know them. I chew over that thought with a slice of bacon, letting my mind entertain it. The night the wrong notes were the loudest weaves with each thought.

Rather, what I don’t remember from it. The truth of what happened.

Whether or not my parents are keeping that from me.

* * *

“You should’ve told us your blood was entangled in this place.”

The elevator doors just opened, and Ryel’s standing there like he’s been waiting. Before I can form a response, Selene speaks from behind him.

“Is it not clear how blindsided she was?”

I peer around his lanky form to look at her. She’s not warm, but she is rational. She’s fair.

After stepping off the elevator, Ryel reels back like I’m contaminating his air. Nothing can get to me right now, though. The worst has already happened.

“How can we trust her?” he snaps, and her eyes narrow.

“It isn’t up to us.”

Static hangs in the air, like a storm of wrong notes threatening to spike from his rigid body.

“If you don’t trust her, that’s your burden to bear.” Selene looks me in the face, nodding shortly. “She has otherwise proven loyalty.”

Why does it feel like a medieval knight just bowed to me? It’s been such a shitty day, but I don’t lose sight of the significance of her defending me. Not just for Niko, either.

“I appreciate it, Sel.”

I didn’t even notice him to the left, leaning against the wall. Ryel apparently didn’t either, as his scowl dissolves immediately. It’s good to know he at least won’t disrespect me with Niko right there.

“Of course, Your Majesty,” she says, a knight before her king.

“I’ll take it from here,” he says, dismissing them both.

It’s only after they’ve disappeared up the hall that I face Niko. I’m not ashamed, but I’m definitely sheepish.

“I’m—”

“Don’t say sorry.”

He stares at me, with neither pity in his gaze nor understanding. I take a step towards him, trying to read that expression.

“My mother was between worlds, too,” he says, and I pause.

It shatters me when the pieces fall together.

Heartbreak curves his lips downward as he closes the space between us. His hands are stiff with worry, like he’s afraid I’ll disappear as he envelopes me. I settle into his arms, my fingers bunching up the back of his leather jacket.

His mother loved stars and found comfort in humans. His mother is gone. Echoes of my parents’ words from earlier bubble up, and I physically feel the gap between us widen. My throat tightens, and I sniffle into his chest.

I can’t explain it. I’ve always tried to defy my parents, and I’ve successfully ignored their expectations. Is there more to it? Something beyond them. Something beyond me.

My chin tilts up to look at Niko. He stares back, the weight of his gaze almost crushing.

“I want . . .”

The words catch in my throat. He reaches a hand to my face, and I press into his cool palm. His skin is a relief to my flushed, blotchy face.

“It’s okay, sweet girl.”

My bottom lip wobbles. His eyes flick down, and I want nothing more than for him to kiss me.

But I know. He can’t kiss my troubles away. If anything, the moment his lips press to mine . . .

It’ll mark the beginning of the end.