Serena Jules had always rejected her siren blood, the blood she had gotten from her mother. Her mother who had left- abandoned her and her father without so much as a note. She didn't want any of the female-dominated community in her life, didn't want to see the fierce and terrifying creatures. They wouldn't hurt her, or her father, and she knew that. They scared her because they were everything she did not want to become. Everything that she denied.

It was that fact that she had started reminding herself of days when she began to hear gossip of the Hunt returning. She would ignore the knowing look from her coworkers who knew of her heritage and go back to price checking books or stopping children from reaching the more dangerous magical items they sold. She didn't pass along the information, the sirens already knew, and she didn't act as if it alarmed her any more than it would alarm your usual member of the 'in-the-know' magical community. Occasionally she would play dumb, "What's a siren anyway?", but mostly she would ignore it.

And that worked, for a time.

She hadn't even known when she had been found out when her facade had fallen. As far as she knew, she was Serena Jules, magically inclined human who worked at the local magic shop to all around her. That didn't stop her from staying alert- letting her roommate know when she left work, avoiding underpopulated areas- but these were all things she did simply because she was a woman in New York. She didn't do these things because she honestly thought she needed to, they were just habit. A habit that failed her.

She knew she was caught when, one night walking home after closing the store, she abruptly felt a strong arm yank her around and shove her into the wall. The forearm of the masked attacker pressed against her windpipe, cutting her breath short and making her eyes water. It wasn't until the attacker spoke that she had any idea about them, for they wore clothing to hide their appearance.

"Where are the rest of you?!" The voice, low and growling, demanded. She was so shocked that she didn't answer, "You women never listen…" He, as she had determined by now that it was a man, muttered before slamming her again. "Where are the sirens based?!"

"I- I don't know what you're talking about," She rasped, his pressure on her throat limiting her speaking ability. Were she trained she could still use her siren abilities to get away, to force him to destroy himself and leave her alone, but she was not trained. Nor did she have the resolve to do something like that. Her life on the line, and she still didn't want to fight, couldn't take a life. It didn't matter that he would find her, that he would tell others about her.

"Stop playing games!" He snapped, lifting her up the brick wall slightly. She felt her back burn, the skin tearing through the material of her shirt. Her feet dangled slightly, and her vision was darkening. This man wasn't playing around, he was highly trained, he was part of the Hunt. "I know you're one of them, tell me where the rest are or I'll kill you and use your blood to find them!"

"I'm not- a siren- just- human!" Serena gasped out with what she was sure was her last breath.

"Bullshit!" He snapped, "Now tell me!"

His demand was punctuated by his arm pressing harder into her throat. She was suffocating, and she knew that any moment she would pass out. She was going to leave her father, just as her mother had left them. Gone from the alleyway, no note, no warning, just dead for being a siren, for refusing to just be a mother. For refusing to just be there. In this moment Serena understood. She understood that it hadn't mattered that her mother had chosen to be a siren, because Serena had done everything she could to not be a siren, and yet still she would die by the Hunt.

It was then, seconds away from losing consciousness, that Serena felt the resonance in her soul that could only mean there was a siren nearby. Usually, it was a feeling that made her blood run cold, fear of the sirens that she wanted so badly to not become. Tonight, however, she felt such relief. She wanted nothing more than to sing. She was safe, and with her final conscious breath she let out a note that momentarily immobilized her attacker. His arm was off of her neck, and the last thing she felt was the hard ground of the alleyway and the comfort that she was safe.

When Serena woke up she was in her bedroom, lying above the covers with a glass of water and a note on her barren nightstand. She groggily moved to drink, and after greedily gulping half of the cool glass down, she pulled the note into her field of vision.


I hope that you wake up well and that this note finds you in good health. The man who attacked you had not yet notified his fellow members of the Hunt, so you are safe. For now.

I have refrained from pushing you into the community since you became an adult because I respect your wishes. When your mother selected me as your godmother, I promised her I would provide for you in all me, this has always included providing you with the life you chose, the life of a human. I cannot sit by without saying words any longer.

I will never take your free will, and if you choose, even after tonight, to stay in the dark, untrained, then I will do everything in my power to allow that to happen. However, I must say what I feel to be true. I do not believe it is safe or wise to remain out of the community any longer. In your mother's place, though I can never replace her, I would like to train you and introduce you to the community you have shunned.

You know how to reach me.


Serena had always feared the sirens because they represented what she did not want to become. She had assumed that she could ignore the call to sing, could pretend to be something that she was not, but she was wrong. Furthermore, the threat to her being had brought out the epiphany that her mother had not abandoned her and, as such, she felt pride in her singing blood. She was a siren, and she always would be.