SIRENA

Do you ever wake up and hope that today is the day that will change your life? I have that same thought every morning, but every day is the same—predictable in its monotonous rhythm. Don’t get me wrong… I love my job. I’m a visiting Professor of Anthropology at the University of San Francisco this year, and I’m in the middle of a book tour for my latest book, The Myths Behind Mythology. I’ve always been fascinated by the development of human culture through the ages, and the myths society creates to justify our existence in this world. It’s strange, though. I’m so fascinated by human interactions, but the reality of my life is that I like to be alone. Every relationship I’ve ever had has ended before it began. I don’t have a ‘type.’ I’m not broken by bad boys or searching for that one ‘Mr. Right’ who doesn’t exist. My problem is entirely different. My problem… is me. I didn’t feel anything for anyone I’ve ever been with. Men, women, both together—I’ve tried it all… and I felt nothing—no love, not even infatuation. I understand animalistic lust and the fulfillment of primal urges, but I don’t seem to possess the primal urge to procreate, to find that elusive ‘soulmate’—the other part of myself who is supposedly roaming the Earth looking for me. It doesn’t make me sad, and it doesn’t make me happy. I’m just… bored of the tedium.

From the outside looking in, I have it all. I’m attractive, intelligent, I have a great career, and I’m at the top of my field. I also sound conceited, but I’m not. I see the world as it is, and I know my strengths and weaknesses. You don’t get to be where I am in my career at the age of thirty-one if you don’t understand how to maximize what you have and work on those aspects that could drag you down.

I crave a new challenge in my life, but today isn’t that day. Today I have lectures to give from 9:00 a.m. to 3:00 p.m., and then I need to make an appearance at a local art gallery tonight. They had this great idea to do a signing for my book and display some amazing artwork that portrays various characters from mythology. I loved the premise instantly. This will be the bright spot in my week, something that deviates ever so slightly from my normal days.

I stop at the campus café to grab my usual coffee—black with two sugars—and sit down with the paper for ten minutes before heading to my classroom. Same old, same old in the news—death, murder, political scandal. But, there’s one picture that catches my eye. A local politician caught in a sex scandal with his intern—his male intern. He has a wife and two beautiful children who will be dragged through the mud with this devastating news. But it’s not the nature of the story that has my attention. These things happen all the time. Every month there is a new politician who is lying and scheming and getting caught. What has me glued to the page… is the man in the background.

I’ve never seen anyone like him. Striking… as if carved from the finest marble—tall and toned with eyes that pierce my soul through the page. I’m not even sure how to describe his features as I stare at them in black and white. I can’t take my eyes off him. Like I know him somehow, but that’s impossible. I’ve never seen this man before. I would remember.

A hand on my shoulder shakes me from my daze and back to the bustling coffee shop surrounding me. It’s my T.A., Josh.

“Hey, boss. Something interesting in the paper today?”

I quickly close over the pages embarrassed by my strange reaction. “You know San Fran, political scandal on every corner.” It diverts him long enough to gain some composure and gather my bag and laptop.

“Oh my God! I saw that story on Facebook this morning. His wife was H-O-T!”

“That was the part you focused on?”

“You know me. Never pass up the chance to gaze at a pretty face.” He gives me a wink and a smile and just like that, we fall into step together and make our way over to the main building to get ready for my first lecture of the day. Josh is a great T.A., very organized and goes above and beyond to help me in my research, but he’s more than that, he’s become a friend, and for me, those are in short supply.

* * *

I relish the quiet of the lecture hall right before the students come storming through the doors breathing life into this empty room. It never ceases to intrigue me how the mere presence of people can change the energy of a space. The anthropologist in me loves to watch and study social constructs and cultural diversity as they come together, merge and morph into something new inside these walls.

If you take the time to notice, it is fascinating how the human psyche affects our actions down to the smallest details. Have you ever watched two hundred students filter into a classroom? I have. Hundreds if not thousands of times. Every time it’s the same. The first student who arrives decides where everyone else will sit. Why? How? Because the second person to arrive will sit as far away as possible unless they are friends with student one. As more and more arrive, they will scan the room trying to space themselves at appropriate distances until there is no option but to sit next to a stranger. Social cues dictate you cannot walk into a room with a hundred and ninety-nine empty seats and sit in the seat next to the only other person in the room if you don’t know them. It would be seen as odd behavior. Instead, we try to distance ourselves until it’s impossible to avoid it. Humans pride themselves on community, on culture, on being social creatures, however, on some level, we close ourselves off from everyone around us. We live alone in boxes or with someone we choose to share our space with. We limit our contact with others, because when it comes down to it, no matter how many structures are in place, no matter how much research I do into anthropology, at the end of the day… we’re all alone… trapped in our own world, in our own minds… unable to share a hundred percent of ourselves with another person. Our experience of this world is unique.

I contemplate this with every class that filters in and out of my room. Day in, day out. Week after week. Month after month. Year after year.

When every seat is full, and I say good morning, silence descends like a cloud over the room. You could hear a pin drop in here. My students may not all be honor-roll material, but every last one of them is attentive to what I have to teach.

“Today we’re talking about the chapters I gave you to read on Monday, but I’m sure half of you… and that’s being optimistic… haven’t read them, so I’m going to give you the CliffsNotes version before we…”

I scan the room, looking at the same vacant, hungover students I’ve been trying to teach Anthropology to for the past four months, and then I see him. I know every one of the two hundred faces in this lecture room, but his… I’ve never seen before. No one else even seems to notice him. I know students are wrapped up in their own lives for the most part, but this guy is different—he commands attention.

“Miss Sovende? Is everything all right?”

Josh interrupts my blatant staring. “Emmm… yes… sorry. Just got lost in my own brain for a moment there. Let’s continue.”

I steal a last glance at the mysterious stranger to find violet eyes burning into my soul. He’s gazing right at me—through me—a look of confusion and anger on his face that I don’t understand. And as I tear my gaze from his focusing my attention on the class, all I can feel are his eyes on me—eyes that seem so familiar.

My body trembles, and my voice wavers as I struggle through the ins and outs of Greek Mythology, my mind comparing this unknown man to the mighty gods of Olympus.

When the bell rings to signal the end of class, I feel my body physically relax, relieved that I managed to get through the longest hour of my life. As the room begins to empty in a stampede of students filtering out into the hallways, I see him in my peripheral vision, but I can’t bring myself to look directly at him. As Josh gathers my papers, I quietly ask him about the man who remains seated at the back of the room.

“Do you know who that is? He’s not one of my students. Is he new?”

He starts laughing. “Of course not, he’s like sixty. Why on Earth would you think for a second that he’s a student? He came to me at the beginning of class and told me he would be auditing your class for the University. Nothing to worry about. I assumed you knew because you seemed a little nervous today. Off your game.”

“No, I didn’t know. There’s no way he’s sixty. What the hell are you talking about? He’s thirty at most.”

Josh looks at me as if I’ve grown another head. “Are you feeling okay? I know you’ve been flat out lately with the book tour and everything.”

I look toward the back of the room, but he’s gone. The elusive stranger. “I’m fine… I just wanted to know who he was.”

“We must be talking about two different people. The guy who audited the class was sixty at least. Short, balding, bit of a pug face, and wearing a cheap suit. Maybe he brought a student with him that I didn’t notice?”

“I guess so. I didn’t even see the man you’re describing.”

“Why don’t we just get your lectures done, and then I’ll grab us some take-out before the gallery signing tonight? Sound good?”

“Sure.”

I make it through the day, but my head just wasn’t in it. I’m distracted by the memory of those intense violet eyes—haunting me—watching me somehow.

* * *

The gallery looks phenomenal, and I’m excited to see a crowd of people waiting to get in. My publishers have outdone themselves tonight. The artwork is stunning with so many amazing artists displayed in one place. There is even a selection of work from students of the University. They were given a broad scope to create something from Greek Mythology, and they’ve surpassed themselves. I’m enthralled by every stroke of the brush and every carving of stone. I’m surrounded by representations of the myths that consume my world. It’s like my personal heaven.

The signing is over quickly, and it’s nice to see that some of my students turned up to support me. I give a short speech on the origins of this book and the motivation behind my research, thank my agent and publishers, and then comes the hard part—mingling. Josh is a good wingman for me in social situations. He keeps the predators at bay when they assume we’re together. He and I would be laughable together—we’re too alike to ever tolerate each other in a relationship. We enjoy discussing the book with various patrons and praising the University art students who have contributed such amazing work this evening. My glass is constantly topped up by the wait staff with pink champagne. I’ve lost count of how many drinks I’ve had at this point, and I’m starting to feel it. The warmth spreading inside, my inhibitions lowering, and my need for sexual release hitting a fever pitch. It’s been too long since my last casual dalliance. Every nerve ending in my body is aware of the slightest brush of my dress against my skin.

I’ve had the strangest feeling all night that someone is watching me. Obviously, the event is in my honor, but I don’t mean that… it’s as if someone is watching me from the shadows. Josh ends up leaving me stranded talking to the Dean while he makes a play for a woman at the open bar, and that’s when I decide it’s time to scratch my itch. My skin is flushed with the thrill of the hunt scanning the room for someone who makes me tingle in all the right places. There’s a stunning blonde woman across the room admiring a sculpture of Aphrodite. Her hair is long, flowing in waves down her slender back. She has curves in all the right places, and legs that go on for miles. A definite maybe. The bartender is cute—muscular, the shadow of some delicious looking ink beneath his crisp white shirt and dark hair accentuating beautiful chocolate brown eyes. He’s been flirting with me all night, and I’m not opposed to the idea of a quick but satisfying tumble in the back room. As I turn to answer yet another mundane question from the Dean, that’s when it happens. The feeling returns—intense eyes on me. I swiftly scan the room desperate to locate the source of my unease.

I find myself fixated on the darkest corner of the room. Violet eyes glow back at me, and the hairs on the back of my neck stand up. It’s him—the man from my lecture. Everything around me disappears into the background and voices fade to white noise as I make my way across the room. An invisible tether draws us together, and I watch in awe as he steps out of the shadows still holding my gaze. He is easily six-foot-seven inches with broad masculine shoulders and the physique of an ancient warrior. There are some form of tribal tattoos on his chest just visible above the open collar button of his shirt making me weak at the knees. I still can’t see his features properly under the dim lighting because of the way his face is angled down… but I’m sure it’s him. I’ve never seen someone with such distinctive eyes. What are the chances of seeing two people with violet eyes in the same day? They must be contacts—no one’s eyes are naturally that color, but they look sexy as hell!

A violent shudder wracks my body when I’m within touching distance of him. A physical reaction I have never felt to another human being before. It’s powerful and primal—sexual and seductive—mysterious and yet so familiar. As he tilts his head up into the light, I can’t help but gasp. He is even more stunning up close than he is across a room. His features are the definition of chiseled with just the right amount of scruff on his jaw to make me crave one small taste.

The self-assured look in his eyes only makes him more enticing. When I step closer and hold my hand out in introduction, a sly grin spreads across his face. Then it hits me… he’s the guy from the newspaper article. The guy in the background with the piercing eyes. As he takes my hand in his, an electric current passes between us. Not that spark of attraction, but a physical jolt like a bolt of lightning. His eyes dart down to where our skin connects before meeting my gaze with a look of bewilderment clear on his face.

“You felt that?” My voice is barely recognizable.

“Who are you?” His voice is dripping with sex. Sultry, gravelly, with a rasp that could render even the most intelligent of women dumbstruck.

“I…” He doesn’t let go of my hand, and the warmth radiating from his touch only intensifies.

“Who. Are. You?”

I’m snapped from my mute state by a hand at the base of my back. “You okay, Sirena?” It’s Josh.

I turn to see the concerned furrow of his brow, but my hand is still firmly ensconced in the grip of my mystery acquaintance. “I’m… fine, just mingling.”

“If you’re sure?” He looks down at the hand firmly grasping mine, his lips set in a firm line.

“I’m sure. Go have fun. I’ll catch up with you in a little bit.” I give him a reassuring smile before turning my attention back to the man causing my insides to do somersaults from a simple handshake.

“I’m guessing you already know who I am. My face is on every book that’s been sold in here tonight. I’m the guest of honor. The question should be… who the hell are you?”

“Feisty, I like that.” His smile is contagious. I know rationally that I should be concerned that this guy has turned up in my life three times in one day. I don’t believe in coincidence, and the other option is that he’s a creepy stalker… a smoking hot stalker.

“Why are you here?”

“To admire the view of course… the artwork is exquisite.”

I blush… I blush at his double entendre. This guy is seriously messing with my mojo tonight, and I can see he’s enjoying every moment of it.

“I feel at a disadvantage. You know who I am, and I know nothing about you. Do you have a name?”

His eyes sparkle as he answers. “I have many names.” He reaches out to move an errant strand of hair from my face, but I take a step back. He understands the gesture. “But, you can call me Lux.”

“Lux.” As that one small syllable drips from my lips, I feel my core tighten in anticipation. I reach out and place my hands firmly on his chest taking a step closer breathing in his fresh scent. God, he smells amazing. The moment my fingers make contact with his inked skin at the edge of his collar, I feel lightheaded. I lose the ability to stand, my legs giving way beneath me.

I’m blinded by a searing pain in my eyes, and I can’t even speak. I brace myself for the impact of hitting the floor, but it doesn’t come. Instead, I am enveloped by strong, warm arms. There is a commotion around me, but the pain in my eyes is too much, I can’t focus. All I can hear is his voice.

“Professor? Are you okay? Please say something. Can you open your eyes?” I try, but it’s as if a red-hot poker is being speared straight through my eyes. “Give her some room. Someone get her a glass of water and call an ambulance.” His voice is soothing. Every word he speaks causes the pain to subside, little by little. My breathing calms, and the panic dissipates.

I hear Josh standing over me. “She’s my friend. I can take it from here.”

In a tender gesture, Lux gathers me close in his lap and whispers in my ear. “We’ll see each other again soon, Professor.” I feel the panic creep back in at the thought of him leaving me, and I have no idea why. He places a tender kiss on my forehead and then…

I have never felt a pain and agony so intense and yet so beautiful. As his lips touch my skin, my body begins to convulse, the pressure behind my eyes becoming so concentrated I feel as if they are going to explode.

“What the hell is happening to her? Let her go.” There is terror in Josh’s voice.

“I didn’t do anything.”

“Let her go.”

I grip his arms tightly refusing to let him go. Something inside me is telling me that I need him here in this moment. “I can’t. She’s clinging to me. If I put her down on this floor, she could seriously injure her head. She’s having a seizure. Does she have any medical conditions?” I can feel his thighs flexing beneath my head as he strains to keep my body from thrashing.

“I… I don’t think so. I don’t know.”

“Great friend you are.”

The anger in his voice dissipates as he bends his head once more to whisper to me.

“Try to focus on the sound of my voice. Breathe. In… and out. You’re okay, Sirena. I’ve got you.” The minute my name leaves his lips, I can’t keep my eyes closed any longer. They fly open, the pain too immeasurable to contain. I hear a high-pitched scream, and it takes a moment for me to realize that it’s coming from me.

Everything around me is red. The walls, the floor, his face. Everything in my world is red… except his eyes. They burn a brighter violet than before marred by a look of horror that confirms my fears. I must be bleeding from my eyes. Maybe a brain hemorrhage of some kind.

My body stops shaking, my muscles stiffening to the point of pain. My eyes wide open in fear as I lose feeling in my limbs. “I… I can’t…”

“Your eyes…” There is something in his voice. Dread.

I see my eyes reflected in his… sparkling like rubies. Red. No trace of the pale green that was once there. What the hell is happening to me? One last blinding pain, and my eyes involuntarily close. My arms and legs go limp, and all I can do is listen.

“Did you see that?” He isn’t talking to me now.

“Yeah. That was scary.” Josh’s voice sounds distraught. I’ve never heard him so rattled.

“Has that ever happened before?”

“I’ve never seen her collapse.”

“I meant her eyes.”

“What about them?”

“The color.”

“I don’t know what you mean. They’ve always been pale green. Never seen anyone else with eyes like hers.”

“Neither have I.” The way his words trail off, I know he means something else.

He saw.

He saw my eyes turn red.

I can hear sirens in the distance. The ambulance must be here. Unfamiliar voices start talking to me, telling me what they’re doing.

“Sir, we can take it from here.”

I can feel his reluctance as I’m lifted from his arms. This stranger who gives me comfort with his violet eyes haunting the blackness as I give in to my body, to the darkness that is calling for me. Everything else fades away, and only he remains. As I’m lifted into the ambulance, I can still hear his voice through the barrage of noise around me. Barely a whisper, but somehow I hear him as if he was right next to me in an empty room. “Who are you? What… are you?”

The doors slam shut, and as the sirens blare and the ambulance speeds off into the night, I let myself drift off, his words going around and around in my head.

WHAT…

ARE…

YOU?