Chapter 7: Siren's Call
The street narrowed as they left the waterfront, swapping salt air for the smell of spilled beer and fryer oil. Siren sat at the end of a row of converted storefronts, its entrance marked by a single glowing fish sign that flickered like it was having a seizure. Neon blue light bled through the windows, and the bass leaked out through the walls, a low, steady thump that Kyle felt in his teeth.
Kyle held the door open and gestured grandly. "Welcome to Siren. Best kept secret in the district."
Roha stepped inside and stopped. The place was smaller than Vex, darker too. Metallic walls caught the neon glow and threw it back in streaks of blue and pink. A long bar ran along one wall, lined with bottles that glowed like gems in the backlight. The crowd was sparse for a weeknight, clusters of people scattered across the booths, one couple slow-dancing to a song that didn't seem to match the tempo.
And behind the bar, a woman with a cropped fade was pouring something into a glass with the practiced ease of someone who'd done it ten thousand times.
"Nell!" Kyle launched himself toward the bar, vaulting onto a stool with way too much momentum. "My favorite person!"
Nell didn't look up. "You said that about Joaquin yesterday."
"Yeah, but you're my favorite person who doesn't live with me." Kyle leaned over the bar, batting his eyes. "Come on. You know I missed you."
"You saw me Tuesday, Kyle." But she was smiling. She set down the glass and finally looked up, her sharp brown eyes landing on Roha, who was standing awkwardly by the door. "Who's this?"
Kyle spun around, grabbing Roha by the arm and dragging him to the bar before he could protest. "This is Roha! We met last night, totally random. He's new in town. We went to Vex together and dude, you should've seen him on the dance floor. He was a machine."
Nell's gaze slid over Roha, slow and examining. She took in the dark shirt, the long hair, the gold band on his wrist. Her expression didn't change, but something behind her eyes sharpened.
"Roha," she repeated. "That's an unusual name."
"So is Nell." Roha's voice was steady, neutral.
Nell's eyebrow ticked up. "Nell's short for Eleanor. Very normal."
"Ah." Roha met her stare without flinching.
The silence stretched a beat too long. Kyle looked between them, oblivious, bouncing on his stool. "You two are gonna get along great. I can already tell."
"Mm." Nell grabbed a glass from the rack. "What are you drinking, Roha?"
"Whatever you recommend."
Nell moved with the ease of someone who'd done this a million times. Lime, mint, a splash of something dark and sweet. She muddled, shook, poured. Two glasses slid across the bar, condensation beading on the glass.
"Test for that one," she said, nodding at Roha's drink. "House specialty. If you don't like it, I'll make you something else."
Roha picked it up. The smell hit him first, mint and citrus and something herbal. He took a sip. The flavors opened up slowly, cool and bright, nothing like the sharp burn of the gin and tonic from the rooftop.
"Good?" Nell asked.
"Yes. Thank you."
Kyle slammed his drink like it was a shot, then flagged her for a refill. "Bathroom, be right back." He hopped off the stool and weaved through the crowd toward the back, his pink head bobbing between shoulders until it vanished.
The bass thumped. A someone laughed too loud in the corner. Nell picked up a towel and wiped down the bar, slow and methodical. Roha sat very still, the glass warming in his hand.
"So," Nell said, not looking up. "What's your deal?"
"What do you mean?"
She lifted her eyes. Sharp. Measuring. "I mean you and Kyle. What's going on there?"
The magic hummed in his chest, warm and insistent. The friendship bond pulled at him, urging connection, urging honesty. He couldn't lie. Not about this. He didn't think he could lie to her at all.
"We're... friends."
Nell stared at him. Her eyebrow did that tick thing again, the one that said she wasn't buying it.
"Riiiiiight. Friends." She set the towel down and crossed her arms, leaning her hip against the bar. "And what do you think of your... friend?"
The question hung in the air. Roha could feel Nell watching him, searching for something, maybe a crack, maybe a shift in his face. The magic pushed at him again, gentler this time, like a hand at the small of his back. He thought about the beach. The waves. Kyle's grin as he'd shoved his phone in Roha's face, showing him the cat ears, the absurd mesh, the joy so uncomplicated it felt like sunlight.
"He's... very energetic."
Nell's face cracked. She laughed, a full, open laugh that made the couple at the corner booth look up. She shook her head, still chuckling, and grabbed a glass from the rack to wipe it down.
"Yeah, that's one way of putting it." She was smiling now, real and warm. "He's harmless, though. Legit the friendliest, nicest guy I know."
Roha turned the words over. He'd known tyrants and warlords, merchants and madmen. He'd watched empires crumble and religions rise. But he'd never met anyone like Kyle. A man who hugged strangers, who shared his fries without being asked, who spent his first wish on friendship instead of gold.
"He's different," Roha said quietly.
Nell's smile softened. "Yeah. He is." She set the glass down and leaned in, her voice dropping. "Just so you know. I look out for him. If you're here to mess with him, I'll find out. And it won't be pretty."
Roha met her gaze. The threat was casual, but the weight behind it was real. A protector. He understood that role better than she'd ever know.
"I'm not here to mess with him."
Nell studied him for another long moment. Then she nodded, once, and the tension in her shoulders eased. "Good. Then we're cool."
She grabbed a lime, sliced it, and popped it into a fresh glass. "So. How'd you two actually meet? Because Kyle's version usually skips the embarrassing parts."
Roha could feel the weight of her scrutiny. Unlike Joaquin, who had taken one sleepy look at him and shrugged it off, and unlike Kyle, who drifted through life on sheer good vibes, Nell was paying attention. Her eyes tracked every tiny flicker in his face. She was sharp, and Roha knew better than to push his luck.
"He was lost," Roha said, setting his glass on the counter. "Looking for Vex in an alley. We ran into each other, spoke for a moment, and then he grabbed my arm and dragged me there to dance."
It was technically Kyle's version, minus the brass lamp, the rolling smoke, and the ancient contract binding them together.
Nell let out a quiet sigh, dropping the lime wedge into the shaker. "That sounds like Kyle, alright."
Roha tilted his head, curious despite himself. "What do you mean?"
"He's just... quick to make friends," Nell replied, capping the shaker with a sharp, rhythmic clink. "The type to pull people into his good time, ya know? He doesn't think about it. He just assumes everyone wants to be part of the party, and usually, people just let him do it."
She shook the cocktail, the ice rattling hard against the stainless steel, before pouring it out into a lowball glass. She pushed it toward him, though he still had half of his first drink left.
Nell leaned her elbows against the bar, tilting her head as she studied him. Her sharp brown eyes took in the heavy gold band on his wrist, the rigid posture, the way he seemed to take up space without meaning to.
"You're different, though," she said, her voice dropping into a teasing, knowing cadence. "Definitely not the usual type cozying up to him."
Roha went still. "Cozying up?"
"Oh, come on." Nell chuckled, shaking her head as she picked up her rag again. "Kyle's oblivious, sure, but I'm not blind. The brooding, mysterious thing? Tall, built like a brick wall? It's usually twinks with glitter on their cheekbones, or meatheads looking for a fun night."
"What is a twink?"
Nell's hand paused mid-wipe. The rag hung in the air, dripping onto the bar. Her eyebrow climbed higher than he'd seen it go yet.
"You know," she said slowly, like she was testing whether he was messing with her. "Young. Skinny. Usually with little common sense and even less body hair."
Roha considered this. It sounded like Kyle. Especially the little common sense part.
"Ah," he said. "I am not that."
"No," Nell agreed, the corner of her mouth twitching. "You are definitely not that."
She tossed the rag into a bin behind the bar and leaned her hip against the counter, arms crossed. The neon from the sign outside caught the edges of her fade, painting it blue for a second before it shifted back.
"So what are you doing then? You had a fun time with him last night, and yet you're with him again tonight."
Roha stared into his glass. The ice had melted into a thin, watered-down pool at the bottom. The magic hummed, soft and insistent, and he found himself wanting to tell her something true. Not the whole truth, never that. But something.
"I... feel like I owe him, I suppose."
Nell's eyebrow did the tick thing again. "Owe him? For what?"
"For..." Roha hesitated. He couldn't say the wish, couldn't say the lamp, couldn't say any of it. "He showed me a good time when I needed one. I don't know how to explain it." He sighed and set the glass down. "On the other hand, I guess you could say I'm drawn to him."
Nell went quiet. She picked up her rag again, but she didn't wipe anything. She just held it, turning it over in her hands while she studied him. The neon from the sign flickered across her face, blue one second, pink the next.
And then her expression softened. Not the kind of softening that meant she trusted him, but the kind that meant she'd decided to give him a chance.
"I'll accept that." She tossed the rag into the bin. "Just... go easy on Kyle, okay? He's basically a golden retriever in human form."
Roha thought about the photo on Kyle's phone. The orange ears, the mesh top, the tail that looked like sad yarn. The joy radiating off the screen.
"He was a cat boy," Roha said. "He likes fluffy."
Nell's face cracked. She laughed, a full, unguarded laugh that rang out across the bar. The couple in the corner booth looked up again. She shook her head, wiping at her eyes with the back of her hand.
"Okay," she wheezed. "Okay. That's a good one."
Roha allowed himself a small, rare smile. It felt strange on his face, like wearing a coat that didn't quite fit.
"Hey, what's funny?" Kyle's voice cut through the bass. He was weaving back through the crowd, drying his hands on his jeans, pink hair sticking up at odd angles. He slid onto the stool next to Roha and looked between them with bright, curious eyes. "You talking about me? You were talking about me."
"Only good things," Nell said, her voice smooth as the pour she was doing. She caught Roha's eye and winked, slow and deliberate, before turning back to the bottle.
Roha blinked. The wink gave him the sense that there was a subtext to the conversation with Nell that he didn't understand.
"Yo, when do you get off?" He pulled out his phone, thumbs flying across the screen. "I just texted Joaquin. That new place by the stadium, Circuit? Apparently it's themed like a spaceship. He said there's a dance floor that lights up under your feet."
Nell glanced at the clock above the bottles. "Thirty minutes."
"That's perfect." Kyle bounced on his stool. "We can pre-game here and roll in when it's actually popping."
Nell grabbed three shot glasses and lined them up on the bar. The bottle she pulled from the shelf had no label, just a hand-drawn skull on the side. She filled each glass to the brim with something that glowed faintly green in the neon light.
"These are on me," she said, sliding one toward Roha. "Welcome to the inner circle."
Kyle snatched his shot and held it up. "To new friends and new clubs."
Roha picked up his glass. The liquid smelled sweet and sharp, like pineapple and gasoline. He looked at Nell, who was watching him with that measuring gaze again, but softer now.
"Drink up," she said. "It's a rite of passage."