THREE
Revelations
Despite the fact that the three of them had spent the entire day scouring mythology books, they hadn’t been able to find out much more about how to help Gemma. But when Harper came home from work, she was feeling better than she had since the night Gemma left.
It was reassuring to have Alex and Marcy working with her, even if Marcy wasn’t all that helpful. Harper wasn’t alone, and that made saving Gemma feel more possible.
That feeling of hopefulness evaporated the instant Harper walked through the front door and saw her father.
Brian stood in the middle of the living room. It looked like he’d walked into the room, then forgotten where he was going or why, so he just stopped. He hadn’t shaved that morning, his eyes had bags beneath them, and his skin was ashen.
“Hi, Dad,” Harper said as she closed the front door quietly behind her.
He looked up at her with a ghost of a smile on his lips. “Hi, sweetie.”
“You didn’t end up going to work today?” Harper asked him.
When she’d left for work in the morning he’d still been home, but Harper had been hoping he’d go in. He didn’t have any paid time off left, and their whole family would be in really big trouble if he lost his job. Not only was he the breadwinner of the family, but his health insurance helped keep Harper’s mother in assisted living.
“I thought she might come home,” Brian said, his normally warm voice sounding gravelly from exhaustion and sadness.
“Have you eaten today?” Harper asked, walking past her father toward the kitchen. “I can make you something.”
“I’m not hungry,” Brian said.
“Come on, Dad. I’m making you something.”
Harper went into the kitchen and opened the fridge. She pulled out lunch meat and mayo, and by the time she’d started making him a sandwich, Brian had wandered into the kitchen and sat down at the table.
“Have you heard from her?” he asked.
“No.” She slathered the bread with mayo and refused to look back at him as she spoke. “You know I’d tell you if I had.”
“I just don’t understand why she’d run away,” he said, with a now-familiar frustration taking over. “She had so much she wanted to do. And she was even dating Alex. Why would she leave? Even if she was mad at me.”
“She wasn’t mad at you,” Harper reassured him. She put the sandwich on a plate, then set it in front of her father, still without really looking at him. “You know this wasn’t about you.”
“But it doesn’t make any sense!” Brian insisted. “I called her swimming coach today, and he said that her times have been amazing lately. She worked so hard for that. Why would she blow it to run away with some stupid girls?”
“She’s sixteen, Dad.” Harper went over to the sink to start rinsing off what few dishes had piled up, just so she’d have something to do. “Teenagers are unpredictable.”
“But you guys weren’t,” Brian said, speaking louder to be heard over the running water. “Gemma may be strong-willed, but I’ve always known what I was getting with her. It’s like the last week she’s turned into something else.”
Harper accidentally dropped a plate, and it clattered loudly in the sink.
“And the timing couldn’t be worse,” Brian went on. “There’s that killer on the loose going after teenagers.” He took a labored breath. “Something’s happened to her, Harper.”
“Those were all boys,” Harper said, trying to cut off his train of thought. “And I saw Gemma leave. She told me she was running away. She’s fine.”
“She’s not fine!” Brian shouted.
Harper leaned against the sink and closed her eyes. For a moment all she could do was breathe in deep to keep from freaking out. Her hands were trembling, and she wanted to cry. She had to convince her father that everything was all right, when in reality she had no idea if Gemma was okay or if they’d ever see her again.
“I went to the police today,” Brian said, and his tone had leveled out again.
“Did you?” Harper asked cautiously. “What did they say?”
“They’re looking for her,” Brian said. “They don’t prioritize runaway teens, and with everything that’s been going on lately, they’re going to do what they can.”
“That’s good.” Harper had finished with the dishes, but she left the tap on, preferring the sound so it would drown out the silence and tension in the room.
“Harper, turn off the water,” Brian said. “I need to tell you something.”
She shut off the faucet but grabbed a rag to wipe down the counter, continuing her attempts to busy herself.
“Harper. Sit down. I need to talk to you.”
“Just a sec, Dad,” Harper said, scrubbing at a nonexistent spot on the counter.
“Harper,” Brian said, with a firmness to his words that made Harper flinch.
She draped the rag over the sink, then went over to the table and sat down across from him. The whole time she kept her eyes lowered, afraid of how she might react if she looked at him directly.
Seeing her father so haggard like that, she was terrified she would spill everything to him. But she couldn’t tell him about the sirens or what had really become of Gemma, and not just because he’d think she was insane.
In fact, that would be better than if he believed her. If he knew that Gemma was a siren, that she’d run off with actual monsters, he would lose his mind trying to protect her, and Harper couldn’t bear the thought of that.
“I have bad news,” Brian said gravely. He reached across the table, wanting to take Harper’s hand, but she wouldn’t give it to him. “When I was at the police station, I found out something.”
She gulped, swallowing down the painful acid in her stomach that wanted to rise. She wasn’t sure what else Brian could’ve possibly found out. And she wasn’t sure that she could handle any more bad news.
“I don’t know how to tell you this, but…” He paused, trying to form the words. “Bernie McAllister has been murdered.”
And then in one horrible rush it all came back to her, pulling all the air from her lungs and twisting her stomach in knots.
Harper had managed to forget about it until now. But that wasn’t quite right, either. She hadn’t forgotten it. It would be impossible to forget about the death of someone who’d been so important to her.
Her mind had blocked it out, giving her a few more peaceful hours when she didn’t have to think about it. But now it was back, the image of his body eviscerated in the trees outside of his cabin.
Bernie was one of the kindest people she’d ever known, a gentle old man with a soft British accent. He’d helped care for both Harper and Gemma after their mom had gotten hurt in the car accident.
Then the sirens had killed him, gutting him like a fish and leaving him to rot as they danced and sang and tore up his home looking for valuables. The worst part of it was that he gladly would’ve given them anything they wanted, and not because they were sirens who put a spell on him, but because Bernie wanted to help everyone.
“I’m so sorry, honey,” Brian said, his own voice thick with tears. “I know how fond of him you were.”
Harper put her hand to her mouth as silent tears slid down her cheeks. With the image of his body burning in her mind, she realized she had to form a response. Her father didn’t know that she’d already found out Bernie was dead, and he couldn’t know.
“How…” Harper croaked, barely able to force the word out around the lump in her throat.
“They’re not sure yet,” Brian said, but he lowered his eyes when he said it.
Harper had a feeling that the police had told him more than he was sharing with her, and for a split second she hated them for that. Brian didn’t need to know the details of it. Everyone should be spared that gruesome image if they could be.
“They found his house ransacked,” Brian went on. “They think it was some kind of robbery gone wrong.”
Harper wondered if there was any truth to that. Had the sirens gone to steal from him, and he’d been a casualty? Or had his murder been their primary goal, and the robbery an afterthought?
“He had a doctor’s appointment in town yesterday, and when he didn’t show up, the doctor sent the police out on a well-being check,” Brian said. “With a man of Bernie’s age living alone, the doctor was being cautious. But nobody ever expected to find him murdered.”
“Do they have any suspects yet?” Harper heard herself asking. Her hands were trembling, so she put them on her knees, squeezing them to keep the quaking at bay.
“Not yet,” Brian admitted. “But they’re looking.” He paused. “They think it might have been the same person who’s been killing those boys.”
Harper nodded numbly, knowing for a fact that the same monsters who had killed Luke Benfield and the two other teenage boys had also killed Bernie.
“At least you just spent time with Bernie,” her father said, trying to change the subject and put a brighter spin on everything somehow.
It had only been on Saturday, a few days before, that Harper and Brian had spent the afternoon on Bernie’s Island, catching up with him and checking out his garden. She knew she should’ve found some comfort in that, a warm last memory with an old friend, but there was no comfort for her.
“I know this is a lot to take,” Brian said. “Are you holding up okay?”
“Yeah,” Harper said unconvincingly.
Fortunately, before her dad could press her more about how she was doing, her phone started ringing in her pocket. As she fumbled to get it out, her heart raced in hopes that it was Gemma, but then she saw the number. It was only Daniel again.
She stared at the screen and considered whether to answer it. Part of her really wanted to. If she was being honest with herself, it would feel really good to hear his voice, even if she wasn’t in desperate need of a shoulder to cry on.
But the logical part of her won out, and she clicked ignore. He might know something about Gemma, but Harper wouldn’t be able to hold it together in front of her father if Daniel told her something about her sister.
If Daniel had found something, he’d leave a voice mail, and Harper would check it the very second she was out of Brian’s sight. And if Daniel hadn’t found anything, not answering would save Harper from having a conversation with him. She couldn’t have him distracting her right now.
“Who was that?” Brian asked, his voice brightening at the chance that it might be about Gemma.
“It was just, um, Marcy, from work.” Harper stood up abruptly and shoved her phone in her pocket. “Sorry, Dad, I’m not feeling so well. I think I need to go lie down.”
Brian started to say something, but Harper was already leaving, rushing upstairs. She didn’t go to her room, though. She went to the bathroom, making it to the toilet just in time for her to throw up.
When she’d finished, she sat down on the cold tiles and rested her head against the wall. She pulled her phone back out. She clicked on the voice mail, just to be sure Daniel hadn’t left any message, and he hadn’t. Harper quickly scrolled through her contact list for Alex’s number.
“Hello?” Alex answered.
“We need to find Gemma,” Harper said.
“Yeah, I know.”
“No.” Harper shook her head, as if he could see her. “I mean, I don’t give a shit what she is or what the girls are. I’m done researching. We need to find her.”
Alex let out a sigh of relief. “I was thinking the same thing. We need to find her, and bring her back, by any means necessary.”