Chapter 8

EIGHT

CHIP

"Pickles, are you even listening to me?"

She pushed up on her tiptoes and looked over the crowd of our siren gang seated on the sidewalk of Main Street. While she still wore her usual pink rain boots and matching bucket hat, tonight she'd dressed up a bit in one of Mom's favorite outfits. It was a black dress with little white buttons running down the middle from the sweetheart neckline down to the hem below her knees. It was October already and the air was a little chilly, so she'd swapped the white T-shirt Mom would've worn under it for a long-sleeved, cream-colored turtleneck. I smiled. Mom would've loved to see her in that.

"I'm watching the parade, Chip. Just because you don't care about it, doesn't mean I don't."

"Oh, shit. Sorry, Pickles. Go ahead, go watch—" I gasped and grabbed her by the arm to drag her backwards until we were hiding behind the popcorn stand. " They're here. "

Monroe and Dawson were headed our way from the left. Dawson looked handsome in his tweed three-piece suit, like a proper businessman. While Monroe's jeans had a hole in the knee that didn't look designer-made, his white T-shirt was wrinkled, and that blazer had seen better days. My mother's clothes from the '90s had survived better than that thing. Dawson's gaze was locked on the parade as they walked, a smile pulling at his lips. Monroe was scowling at the ground like he wanted to dig up the cement and bury himself.

I frowned. It was a strange expression on his face. That was when I noticed the tiny little blonde wrapped around his arm. My stomach rolled. I'd seen her before in her sexy black bikini with her perfectly toned body on that boat he'd verbally assaulted me from. Right now, despite it being in the upper fifties in temperature, she wore skinny jeans, little sandals with some shiny gold G on them, and a long-sleeved crop top that showed off three inches of her stomach. She was talking and using her hands in super exaggerating hand gestures— oh. That face was about her. Interesting.

"They live on the Island. This shouldn't be a surprise." Pickles sighed and flipped the front of her pink bucket hat up, as if that was somehow blocking her vision. "I can't see the parade from here, Chip. Can I go?"

"No, they'll see you and he'll look for me." I untied my purple windbreaker from my hips, then draped it over the stone railing behind us that was damp enough to force her to shift. "Here, sit on this and you should be able to see. The tree is blocking you from their view."

"Thanks, Chip." She climbed up and sat on my jacket. Her eyes widened at whatever she saw in the parade. "Oh, this is a great view. Why don't you want to watch?"

"My mind is just a little hectic. There's a million thoughts fighting for my attention."

"And how many of those million are about Monroe?"

" Shhhh. " I groaned. "I wasn't actually thinking about him before I saw him over there."

"Why are you shocked they're out here?" she asked without looking at me.

"I just didn't think they'd be out here having fun?—"

"I don't know, the beignet incident was funny."

"That wasn't their plan. I assure you."

She shrugged. "So, what, are we gonna hide here all night?"

"No, they're walking by. We'll wait until they are out of sight."

She glanced down at me from under her bucket hat. "And you're not suggesting some wicked prank to pull right now?"

"And listen to Dad, Brownie, and Reese lecture me? Not worth it." Though I'd have been lying if I'd said the whipped cream hadn't felt sufficient. We may have made the best out of that powder explosion, but the intent to piss me off pissed me off. "I'm trying to figure out the best way to convince sirens it's safe and a good idea to venture out. They're all so reclusive."

Pickles gasped and sat up straight. Her gray eyes were wide and locked on our enemy approaching. Then she leapt off the rail and sank down into a crouch beside me. "Who's the girl with Dawson?"

I frowned and looked over to find the blonde had moved to stand between the cousins, yet her grip remained only on Monroe. "She seems to be with Monroe?—"

"Oh." My sister sagged like she was relieved, which made me scowl. "Okay."

"What does that mean?"

But before she could answer, Monroe and Dawson stopped and got in line at the popcorn stand we were hiding behind. They were definitely waiting to get the buttery snack as their gazes were all locked on the popping machine behind the glass. This was it. My chance to get back at him for last night. An idea began to take shape in my head. All I needed was to wait for my window.

"Oh no," Pickles grumbled. "Do we have to? Dawson is so cute and friendly?—"

"Whose side are you on?"

"Yours." She shrugged. "But he's so nice. I've talked to him. Look at that smile?—"

"Get a good look because I'm ending it."

Monroe stepped up to the counter and gave the lady a friendly smile, not one I'd ever seen before. His lips moved but with all the music blasting from the parade floats, his words were lost. The lady running the popcorn stand nodded, then spun and began filling the plastic pumpkin bucket full of popcorn. But popcorn wasn't the only food item she sold.

I grinned, then licked my lips and sang softly, " Take the bucket and hold with ease, fill it with the nacho cheese."

My siren song magic was not a gift I'd ever used on the regular. It felt wrong to take away someone's free will. I'd taken advantage of the trick when I was a rebellious kid dealing with the death of my mother. I used to steal stuff back then too. I'd stopped doing both in middle school, not that my sisters understood and believed that. Now, I only stole from my sisters and always returned their stuff. And my magic, I only used that in dire circumstances. This probably didn't count as one, but as the lady pumped hot, melted nacho cheese into the popcorn, I found myself growing giddy with excitement.

"Here you go, dear," she yelled over the music and handed the pumpkin bucket to my nemesis.

I grinned and braced myself for a show, except the skinny blonde girl reached out and took the bucket instead. I sucked in a deep breath and held on to the railing behind me. She was still blabbering on about something to Monroe as she reached into the bucket and screamed bloody murder. She yanked her skinny little hand out and it was covered in liquid cheese.

Monroe's and Dawson's eyes widened.

The girl screeched and shook her hand wildly to try and get the cheese off, sending liquid cheese splashing all over Monroe and Dawson and even a few innocent bystanders— those I felt bad for.

"Kristie, stop screaming!" Monroe yelled. "Just stop?—"

But she squealed right over his words. She reached out and wiped her cheese-drenched hand on his white T-shirt. When he tried to hand her a napkin, she threw the bucket at him and the cheese-covered popcorn rained down across his chest.

Dawson just stood there in the cheese splash zone, blinking as drops landed on his eyelashes.

I snort-laughed. "That worked out better than expected," I said to Pickles.

But he must've heard me because his body spun around, and his gaze latched on to mine immediately. Those pretty brown and gold speckled eyes narrowed on me in a nasty glare. I cackled and pretended to dust my shoulder off, then I shrugged. If he wanted a food fight, then I'd give him one.

Dawson took his wand out and pointed it at the cheese smeared into Monroe's chest like he was going to use magic to clean it, but Monroe grabbed his hand and swished it in my direction—sharp energy wrapped around my feet for a split second and then the ground was moving beneath me. My legs kicked out in front of me like I couldn't find traction. I gasped and looked down and choked on a scream. My feet were wearing roller skates. I wrapped my arms around the tree beside me and held on so I didn't go flying.

Pickles screamed as her roller skates swept her away from me and straight down the street where our father was sitting on the curb with the other sirens. I cursed and tried to slowly lower myself to the ground, but I slipped and my legs slid out from under me. I gripped the tree tighter, pressing my cheek to the rough bark. It shook a little and leaves fell all around me, catching in my hair.

"Lookie there! I caught myself a fish on the line," Monroe purred, then he pretended to reel in a fish on a fishing pole.

"MONROE, COME ON! RIGHT NOW!" Kristie screeched at him, her hand and half her face covered in nacho cheese. She fisted his shirt in her hand, and that was when I spotted the vintage diamond ring on her finger. That pissed me off more than it should have. "THAT'S ENOUGH! LET'S GO! YOU HAVE RUINED MY SWEATER!"

Monroe sighed and let her drag him back in the opposite direction. "It's just clothes?—"

"It's cashmere , Monroe! You're buying me a new one!"

Dawson started to follow them when he spotted Pickles slipping in her skates through the crowd. He grimaced and swished his wand in her direction. There was a flash of light and then Pickles was back in her rain boots. Without another word, he sprinted after his cousin and his apparent fiancée.

I cursed and pushed off the tree. The wheels on my skates were slick and greased up so I slammed full speed into Hershey and Twix from behind. It was like mummy bowling at the festival, except my sisters hadn't signed up to be run over. We were all sprawled out on the ground in a pile of tangled limbs and groaning in pain.

Pickles crawled over and immediately yanked my skates off. My rain boots were missing in action though, since we hadn't used magic to get rid of the skates. I turned on my knees and glanced all around that popcorn stand to see if my shoes had reappeared there. But they hadn't. Which meant I had to hope we could use mage magic to return these skates into my favorite boots.

My sisters all gasped, their eyes wide as they watched something behind me. I glanced over my shoulder and spotted the big float at the end with the Vauntero family on it. I spotted Queen Zenobia at the front of the float with her new twin babies perched on her hips. Tara and Laurie's eyes glistened with unshed tears just looking at her. Suddenly, instead of watching the parade, I was watching their reactions to it.

" That's Constantine? " Linda whispered to her sister-in-law, Rachel. " Not how I remembered him. "

Rachel's cheeks flushed as she fanned herself. "I'll remember this though."

I looked back to the Vauntero float and saw Josiah with his orange and purple feather boa dancing next to Lark whose purple lipstick matched my scales. Ida's blue eyes met mine. She tugged on her pigtail braids, then winked and gave me a smile—because I'd copied her go-to look. Next to her was sixteen-year-old Pemberley wearing neon-orange glasses and a twelve-year-old Rose wearing a candy-corn-colored wig. Their whole family was cheering and waving from the float.

In front of me, the new sirens had to scrape their jaws off the ground. Their eyes bounced up and down, left to right, and back again. They took in every detail. I wondered just how much more sheltered than us they were. At least we could come on land and see the other supernaturals.

Pickles waved her hand in front of my face. "What's happening in there?" she whispered.

I leaned into Pickles and whispered back, "There's so much of the world to see. We have to help them get out more."

"We will." Pickles nodded and pointed to the parade. "But at least turn to the parade so you don't freak them out?"

Oops. I turned and planted my ass on the cold cement sidewalk. The parade was rolling by in front of me, and I knew something good was happening because people were cheering and clapping. Laughter echoed all around us. But all I saw were plans on plans on plans. Chickles, the travel agency for sirens, was building in my head right then and there. I'd never been more excited for anything, so I just couldn't sit still.

There was a screech and then water shot into the air like a geyser at Yellowstone.

People screamed and dove away. But it happened too fast for us to move. A giant wave of water splashed onto our group. I saw it all happening in slow motion in my head . . . the inevitability of our siren nature. The second the water touched us, our human legs fused together and turned into siren tails. Random scales spread over our bodies. In the beat of a moment, there had to be two dozen sirens flapping their colorful tails in the water spraying out of the broken hydrant, all of them looking rather defeated.

I just sat there staring at my purple tail floating in the rushing water on the street. Dammit. This is inconvenient. How are we supposed to travel the world when we can't even watch a parade without shifting?

My mind was whirling and spinning with ideas to problem solve. I hadn't moved even an inch. Ria, the other half of the event-planning dynamic duo, had just plugged the hole so the water wasn't still pouring out. That meant I was in the drying stage now.

Ria held her walkie-talkie up to her mouth and said between breaths, "We're good. Everything is fine back here."

Hardly fine. We have some serious problem solving to do.

The walkie beeped, then I heard Carter say, "Ocean back in its containment area, Ria?"

"Ocean has been kicked off Main Street. Roger that." Ria wiped water off her face.

Pickles giggled beside me. "Well, that was entertaining," she whispered.

I hadn't even looked up to see what caused the water explosion, my mind had been too caught in its own whirlpool to care or notice, but I looked up now and found everyone on this block of Main Street was soaking wet. No one seemed angry. In fact, everyone was laughing and clapping, even all three dozen of us sirens huddled together that were now flopping around like fish out of water.

Except for one. A certain redheaded siren stood in the middle of us with both her human legs still going strong. She waved Ria off. "Just another day in paradise for us."

"Easy for you to say, Reese!" I groaned and flicked my black hair over my shoulder, finding that somehow my braids had come mostly undone. "You didn't shift!"

Reese shrugged and tapped on the necklace Holden had given to her as a gift last year that allowed her to control her shifting. She didn't need it anymore, not with the ring on her finger. A siren married to a non-siren gave us the tie to the land that prevented uncontrollable shifting. That was the whole reason Reese had struck that arranged marriage bargain with Holden. Unless she divorced Holden, which she would never since he was her soulmate, then she'd never shift without her own consent again. She only kept the necklace because it was a big gesture from Holden. It had sentimental value—I gasped. Wait a second. Hold on. Hold up.

"That's it. That's what makes our entire business." I slammed my palms into the ground, then pointed to Reese. "We need those necklaces to rent out to clients."

Reese shook her head and smirked. "Well, Chip, Peggy Bow made this."

"Then we need Peggy." I nodded and snapped my fingers in front of Pickle's face. "Pickles, are you listening?"

But Pickles was looking up at the sky with a frown. "Is that the Fruit Loops' bird?"

The other sirens all looked right up at the tree with wide eyes. I frowned and followed their stare, and my jaw dropped. Sitting pretty on the lower branch of that sugar maple was a bright-pink bird I'd never seen before. What the hell is that? And why is it looking at us?

"No," Reese said with a laugh. "That's a pink parrot. Though I have no idea how it got here."

It squawked, then flapped its wings and took off.

And I took that as a sign. Chickles was about to take off, and I was stoked.