“I’m glad you decided to meet with me,” Liv Hoonan said.

Anna tried to brush off the women’s obvious disdain for her small, disheveled apartment.    The well dressed Asian woman had even refused to take a seat when Anna had offered.

“You did have a good point.  I’m curious what you’re getting out of this though.  You have to know I can’t afford you.”

“Oh, that is readily apparent.”

Anna’s eyes narrowed, but she kept her mouth shut.  

“But I’ve made my living seeing potential, finding the diamond in the rough.”

Anna nodded.  She had figured as much.  “So you get paid if your plan works.”

“When it works, Siren.”

“Fair enough.  What do you see in me?”

“As I said, Americans have a short attention span.  You’re already getting in the public eye, and the backlash of an active mind controller is minimal.  You could not only change the current public opinion of you, but on people able to alter the free will of others.”

Anna’s hackles were up.  Something about this woman had always struck her as off, but that last statement seemed to sum up her true intent.  “The world has very good reason to be cautious of people like me.  I’d like the world to see me as I am, someone who’s trying to use her powers for the greater good, but I’m not some ambassador.”

“Oh, I’m not suggesting you be one.  But you are a minority.  And like all minorities seeking acceptance, someone has to take the first step.  I think you could take that first step, and with my help, you’ll succeed.”

“You don’t see me pulling this off on my own, do you?”

“You might, but it’s a long, hard road.  It’s not going to be easy even with my help, but if you do what I say, I can get you back on top.”

“I’m not as bad off as you think.”

“Oh really?  Have you Googled Siren recently?”

Anna had not, but she had a pretty good idea of what she’d find if she did.

“The entire first two pages of a quick search and over the first fifty images that come up are of you and the cruise ship debacle.  And then they start getting into what a menace to society you are, the class action lawsuit that was almost brought up against you.  It isn’t until the sixth page of a Google search that you can find an article about you aiding the police in bringing in a dangerous altered burglar.  And that is recent news, happened just over a week ago.  You’re welcome to keep plugging along on your own, but unless you can tell your body to stop aging with your power, I don’t see you accomplishing much in your lifetime.”

Anna opened her mouth to speak when she realized she had nothing to say, shutting it again.  

“I’m not trying to be mean Miss Carillon, just speaking from experience.”

“I get that.  Honestly it would be a lot easier if I thought you were just being mean.”  Even having a general idea that her public image wasn’t exactly stellar had not prepared her for the cold hard facts that the publicist laid on her.

“Nothing about this will be easy,” Liv responded.

“I suppose not.  And if I were to hire you, what exactly would you do to change my image?  I mean, it’s not like I can become this public figure, donating to charities and kissing babies.”

“You’re not running for office Miss Carillon.  No, changing your public perception will require a complete makeover.  We’ll distance you from your current image, start fresh.”

“I’ve actually been thinking about updating my costume, working with my, associate, to come up with a new design.”

“I already have a new costume for you to go with your new image.”

“I haven’t even said yes to your help, and you already have a costume?” Anna asked.  This was moving a little fast for her, and already she felt like her control was slipping through her fingers.

“You’re going to say yes precisely because I already have a costume.  I’m prepared.  This is what I do.  Your job is to be a hero; you shouldn’t have to worry about making sure the world sees you as one.  That’s where I come in.”

“You are persuasive, I’ll give you that.”

“Very few of us have the luxury of being able to get what we want simply by saying it.”

“Touché.  So new look.  What else?”

“You’ll need a new name.”

“What?” Anna asked incredulously.  “I can’t just change my name.”

“Forgetting for a second that your name is associated with all your past failures, the Sirens in Greek and Roman mythology were creatures that lured sailors to their death on sharp rocks with their singing.  That’s not exactly the image you want connected with a heroine.”

Anna chewed on her lower lip.  This woman was simultaneously earning her respect and infuriating her.  She couldn’t help but recognize the truth behind her words, but at the same time, she was just so wrong.

“I’m not changing my name.  I am Siren.  I can’t just sweep my mistakes under the rug and try to pretend they didn’t happen.  And the Sirens were dangerous.  So am I.  And a siren is also the sound of the cavalry coming in, the good guys.  Be a good publicist and spin that, but to anyone on the wrong side of the law, let them think of me as the mythological creature that’s going to bring them to their reckoning on the sharp rocks of justice.”  Anna crossed her arms across her chest, a thin smile crossing her lips.

“I still think you should change the name.”

“Non negotiable.”  Liv studied the redhead’s face, looking for any give.  “You’ve done your homework, you had to have known I’m not the easiest person to work with.”

“So you keep the name.  You’re not hiding, I can spin that, but you’re going to need to not just distance yourself from some of your less, glamorous, moments, but you’re going to have to actively oppose them.”

“So you can compromise,” Anna said, uncrossing her arms.  “What did you have in mind?”



She didn’t like it.  She was willing to concede that she might get used to it, but she did not like it.

Anna pivoted, studying her fractured reflection in her broken bathroom mirror.

Hoonan’s costume was, well, a costume.  Unlike her previous, functional armor, this was clearly form over function.  It wouldn’t stop a bullet, deflect a knife, or dampen an energy blast.  It was significantly lighter, and easier to move in.  That might have been a bigger plus if she was fast enough to dodge a bullet.

“You’re not a brawler.  You have it in your head that using your powers is bad, but you should be telling people to put down their weapons and stop fighting, not beating them up,” Hoonan had told her.  “Besides, if you’re really that concerned about getting shot, you’d have been wearing a helmet.  But literally no one does.”

A good idea, but not quite as practical in reality as Hoonan seemed to think it was.  But Anna had had to learn for herself from experience, and so she could let Hoonan do the same.  She just had to not get severely injured until then.

It was essentially a sleeveless unitard complete with a skirt, sporting her green and crimson color scheme.  The leggings featured a scale pattern reminiscent of her older armor, though the spandex material offered a fraction of the protection.

And then there was the cleavage.  Anna couldn’t deny that she looked good.  It was just, a little much.

How did Hoonan even get my measurements, she thought.  She wondered if the LC kept that on file somewhere, and couldn’t decide if that was creepier or the idea that Hoonan might have just guessed.

She stripped out of the costume, suddenly not able to get out of the thing fast enough.  She’d wear it as a show of a good faith, but not until she had to.

Anna, naked, eyed her old armor, lying on her bed, feeling the urge to put it back on, but she had to get ready to meet Macy and Ellen for dinner.

She got dressed, putting both her old and new costumes away in the trunk under the floor in her closet, and got ready to go.

Anna felt her phone vibrate from her purse as she headed for the door.

“Hello?”

“Anna.  It’s Israel.  Is this a good time?”

“Hey Izzy.  Is this about Liv Hoonan?”  She went back inside her apartment, shutting the door and tossing her purse on the coffee table.

“Who?”

“The publicist?  I kind of assumed you might have put her up to it.”

There was a pause on the line.  

“No, I don’t know anything about that.  This is, something else.  I’m going to send you a video I need you to look at.”

Anna froze.  “Does this have something to do with Ursula?”

“Maybe.  Hopefully not.  Over the past few months, ships have been going missing.  Not many, and the ships were never found.  Of course, with no evidence, it was still under the Coast Guard’s jurisdiction, and the LC hasn’t stepped in.  We may have to now.  A couple guys on a fishing trip disappeared off the coast of Florida last week.  One of them took a video with his phone, got it up to the Cloud before it went down.”

Anna grabbed her laptop, opening it and checking her email.  “All right, I got it,” she said, seeing the email from [email protected].  “Really Izzy?  Hotmail still?”

“They gave me an official one through the LC, but I don’t remember the password.  Anna, I should warn you, it’s rough.”

She opened the video file.  There were three middle-aged men on the back of a boat, and the camera man walking towards them.  One of the men was leaning over the side with a net.  

Anna leaned into the screen.  “What am I looking for?”  

“Wait for it, you’ll know it when you see it.”

Anna jumped back from the screen as a thick black tentacle erupted from the sea, snaking around the guy with the net, lifting him off the boat.  The other guys began panicking, running.

“Jesus, what the hell is that?”

“Just keep watching.”

The camera man obviously stopped trying to film what was going on, leaving the camera running and in his hand while he ran towards the front of the boat, capturing more of the tentacles rising up from the sea and engulfing the boat, tearing it to pieces.  The camera angle rose, presumably as the cameraman was lifted out of the boat, giving a sweeping shot of the boat behind snapped in half before it started to fall again.  Then, mercifully, the video cut off.

“What the hell was that Izzy?”

“We don’t know, but go back and pause it at 1:18.”

Anna rewound it back, the backwards footage somehow more horrifying, stopping it at 1:18.  The camera had angled out over the open ocean.  Standing on a black patch over the dark blue waters was a figure.  A woman in a short black dress with jet black hair.  Her arms were raised, frozen in a complicated gesture.  A sign language Anna didn’t know herself, but it was obvious that it was manipulating the black tentacles.

“Anna?”

“No,” she breathed, dropping the phone.

The picture was blurry, the figure way off in the distance.  But Anna knew who it was.  She was certain, a sick feeling in her gut.

“Sorry,” she said, finally picking her phone back up.  “That’s her.  That’s Ursula.”

“Well, fuck,” Izzy responded.  “Do you remember anything else from that night?”

“Izzy, she wants my voice.”

“I know, that’s what worries me.  I was really hoping your Sea Witch was some fledgling street magician.”

“She could take my voice.”

There was silence on the line.  Izzy wanted to reassure her, but anything he said would be an obvious lie.  He was no expert on the arcane arts, but Ursula clearly wielded tremendous power.

“What are we going to do?” she asked, still staring at the blurry picture.

“I don’t know.  I can take this to the LC and it should be enough to get them to step up and take over this from the Coast Guard.  I don’t know why they haven’t turned it over already; they’re not equipped to deal with this.”

“Do they know why she’s doing this?”

“No one knows anything.  We’d never even heard the name Sea Witch until she took you.  Now that we know this is her, we can broaden our search, but ships go missing all the time.  She leaves no survivors, no trace.”

Anna sighed, closing her laptop and putting her head in her hands.

“Look, this doesn’t change anything.  If she could take your voice, she would have done it that night.  But we have a lead now.  Just try and go back to normal.  I’m going to run this by the rest of the LC.  I’ll be in touch.”

“All right.”  She hung up, dropping her phone to the floor.  This doesn’t change anything, she thought. But it did.  Before Ursula had just been a nutcase who’d gotten the drop on her.  Sea Witch was just a name from a kid’s movie designed to add to her humiliation.  But she was a Witch.  A powerful one that left a wake of destruction with no survivors.  And she wanted Anna’s voice.

A powerful sociopath with the ability to control anyone if she succeeded.  

Her phone beeped.  A text from Macy.  “We got a table.  ETA?”

Anna started to text her back that she wouldn’t be able to make dinner, but she deleted it before she sent it.  “got held up sorry leaving now,” she texted back.

She got up and grabbed her purse, her eyes darting to her bedroom, her hidden costume.  Not that it would help her.  Anna took a deep breath and walked out of her apartment.



Anna liked Ellen, she really did.  Still, she found herself actively avoiding her adoptive sister’s girlfriend since she had dug her costume out of storage and taken up the mantle of Siren once more.  Ellen robbed her of the ability to talk with Macy about the one thing she could really only talk about with her sister.  She had never had much trouble being quiet about her rather boring life in her retirement, but the moment she’d stepped out into the night again, her tolerance for small talk all but disappeared.  

“Anna?”  Macy snapped her fingers, bringing Anna back into the present.  

“I asked how teaching was, and you just spaced out for a full minute,” Ellen said.  “Must be an interesting story.”

“Hardly.  Teaching is…” not something I give a damn about at all, she thought.  It was the first time she had consciously realized that fact.  “It keeps the lights on.”

“You know, I work with a woman who’s 56, she was starting to plan for retirement, working for the state, and one day just realized she couldn’t do it anymore.  She went back to school, got another degree, and started working in music recording.  And you’re, what, 28?  You’ve got plenty of time to find your calling.”

Anna regarded Ellen for a moment.  “Ellen, go outside,” she said abruptly.

Ellen looked confused for a second, but she nodded and got up, heading out of the restaurant.

“What the hell, Anna?” Macy asked, furious.

“I’m sorry, I just couldn’t play along anymore.”

“I don’t care, don’t order my girlfriend around like that.”

“Look, I’m sorry, but I just can’t keep pretending.  I’ve been in hiding for the past eight years, and I hate it.  I wouldn’t acknowledge it before because the thought of doing it for the rest of my life would have driven me nuts, but for the first time there’s a light at the end of the tunnel.  The LC’s not perfect, but I found my calling years ago, and I’m going to do whatever it takes to get that life back.”

Macy ran her hand through her hair, looking out the window where Ellen was standing by the car, looking around.  “Alright, that’s fair.  But you can’t pretend for an hour?  I mean, come on, you’re the one who doesn’t want to tell Ellen.  Sending her outside, not cool.”

“It’s a nice night out,” Anna responded, but she did feel bad about it.  “Five minutes.”

“Fine, but only ‘cause I want to show you my costume ideas.”  Macy reached for her purse, digging for her sketches.

“Actually, Hoonan already has a costume all made up…” Anna said hesitantly.

“What?  Now I’m really pissed at you.”

“Oh come on Macy.  She’s a professional.  It’s not too bad, and I can wear it under my clothes, rather than lugging around heavy armor in my trunk.”

“No, it’s fine, she can get you what you really want, I get it,” Macy said frowning.

“Macy.”

“We’re not kids playing hero anymore.”  Macy got up.  “I’ll be outside.”  She started walking away, pausing and reaching in her purse.  She threw a few crumpled designs onto the table.

Anna hung her head as she heard the tinkle of the bell as her sister left.  She looked down, unfolding the sketches.  They were good.  A lot better than what Hoonan had come up with of.  Of course, Hoonan’s was real, and she didn’t have to pay to have it produced.  There was an envelope at the bottom of the pile.  Anna opened it, pulling out a crimson and green domino mask.  She pursed her lips, sliding it back into the envelope as she looked outside.  Macy and Ellen were laughing out in the parking lot, their backs turned to her.

The waitress dropped off the bill at the table.  “Oh, those are neat.  You draw?” she asked, looking at the sketches.  

“Nope, that’d be my sister,” Anna responded.  The waitress nodded and left.  Anna looked at the bill.  “Well fuck me,” she breathed, seeing the total.  She supposed she deserved that.

She tucked the drawings and mask away in her purse, sorting through her maxed out credit cards looking for one that would be the least harmful if she paid the bill on.

Anna took one last look out the window, watching as Macy and Ellen climbed into Ellen’s little Civic.