Sirenz - By Charlotte Bennardo Page 0,13

she asked, breathless from our fast pace.

All I could do was hold up the palm of my free hand in confusion. Elf Boy was definitely in an altered state, but the others? Whatever it was, there had to be a logical explanation.

“Come on,” Shar said. “I need some retail therapy to calm my nerves.” She stepped out onto the sidewalk and I followed her. All seemed normal; people streamed around us, the usual pedestrian foot traffic. “We’ll go to Bendel’s first.” She grinned at me. “They have this eco-friendly bath line that even you can’t diss.”

“Watch me,” I chuckled, but the laughter died on my lips as a few guys turned their heads to look at us. We hurried along, and didn’t stop until we reached the department store. We passed through the heavy doors and around the sparkling cases filled with rainbow-hued displays of leather gloves and overpriced hair accessories. Shar paused to look at a crystal-encrusted evening bag and waved down a sales person.

“Where are you ever going to use something like that?” I asked, but she ignored me and started chatting up the saleswoman, who took forever to unlock the case. Bored with waiting for her, my eyes started to wander around the vast atrium. I followed the line of tasteful garland, twisted with anti-holiday shades of slate gray and purple ribbon, around the ceiling to where it culminated in an elegant display over the main doors. Then I froze. When I could force myself to move, I groped for Shar’s arm and clutched it fiercely.

“Wait a sec! Can’t you see I’m—”

She stopped dead. Four or five guys from the coffee shop, including Elf Boy carrying two sloshing cups, had arrived, along with at least one man who I thought passed us when we were in the docking bay, and one or two I know we saw on the street. They were milling around the cases, slowly moving toward us.

“They weren’t following us!” squeaked Shar, terrified. “I looked back!”

“There you are!” a male voice boomed. It was Sharp Suit. Shar blinked at him, like a rat taken by surprise when the dumpster’s opened. “Do you like that bag?” He snatched it out of the saleswoman’s hands. “Please, allow me.” Out came the billfold.

“No!” another shouted. “I’ll get it! And how about these earrings? Do you like these?”

“What do you want to do, buy us everything?!” I shouted. They froze and gaped at me for three long seconds, then ran around wildly, grabbing every black thing they could lay their hands on and throwing them at my feet. More wallets came out.

“You want me to get that for you, don’t you?” A cute guy about our age fell to his knees in front of me.

I smiled at him, liking the dimple in his chin and the way his messy blond bangs brushed his lashes. He had such a sweet face. Then I came to my senses. “Uh. It’s just that—”

“She wants me!” Cutie Face suddenly snarled, glaring at the men crowding around us. “It’s me she wants to be with. Back off!”

“Stupid punk kid!” A construction worker pulled Cutie Face up from the floor by his collar and cocked his arm back as if to hit him.

“Stop!” I screamed.

Construction Guy dropped his prey onto the floor. “Anything for you, sweetheart.”

In a flash, Cutie Face threw himself at the brawny older man and started swinging. Others joined in. Soon the whole male population was brawling, and it was spreading to the upper level of the store. Pink and black garments of all types rained down on us, and more men on the spiral staircase pushed and shoved, trying to get down to pay for it all.

“This is crazy!” Shar cowered against me as a pink nightie fluttered down from above. The female clerks and the few other customers were screaming. Shar had her hands over her ears.

Suddenly, my purse vibrated wildly—but it wasn’t my cell. I dug around inside and pulled out the iPhone, its screen glowing scarlet. On it, I read:

To stop the thrall, just give a call:

Ase me isihi!

I passed it to Shar just as two guys slammed into the case next to us, shattering the glass. I gasped, and both of us jumped back and stared at them in horror. Now security guards were running toward us, but instead of grabbing the men on the floor, they started loading their arms with clothes and waving them at us.

“What does that mean, ase me isihi?” I hissed.