“You don’t need to follow me all day,” Gemma said, casting a look back over her shoulder at Thea. “I’m not going anywhere. I said I would do as you guys asked, and I will.”

“I wasn’t following you.” Thea bristled, sounding annoyed. “I’m going out for a swim.” She paused, her expression softening to something only moderately bitchy. “You can join me if you want.”

Nothing in the world sounded more tempting than going out to the ocean for a swim. Gemma was hot and sticky with sweat, and the watersong was beckoning her. But ever since they’d arrived at the beach house on Monday, Gemma hadn’t swum. She refused to do anything fun.

The sirens had killed people and nearly killed Alex and Harper, and now Gemma was a siren, too. She was the same evil that they were, and she shouldn’t derive any pleasure from this life. That was her punishment for living and allowing herself to become one of them.

Gemma shook her head. “I’m just going to get something to eat.”

They’d reached the bottom of the stairs, and Thea stopped, leaning on the banister, groaning. “You’re making this so much harder than it needs to be.”

“I’m doing the best I can,” Gemma said honestly.

“If you would just eat and swim, you’d feel so much better,” Thea said. “I know you’re all hung up on the eating thing, but if you’d just spend, like, an hour in the ocean, you’d feel a million times better.”

Gemma shook her head again. “Go swim. Don’t worry about me.”

“Whatever.” Thea threw her hands up in the air. “I’m done.”

Thea turned, heading out the back of the house to the beach. Gemma could see it through the windows, the crystal blue water splashing against the shore. She swallowed hard and looked away before she gave in to it.

She went to the kitchen to root around for something to eat, even though she knew none of the food would appeal to her.

The appliances were stainless steel and stood in sharp contrast to the stark white of the rest of the room. She’d just opened the fridge when the owner of the house, Sawyer, wandered into the kitchen.

“Oh,” Sawyer said when he saw her, looking sufficiently disappointed. “I thought it might be Thea.”

“She’s out swimming,” Gemma said. She grabbed an orange from the crisper, since it was the only thing that looked even mildly appetizing, then closed the fridge behind her. “You can probably join her if you want.”

He glanced to the back of the house toward the ocean. A longing filled his face, but it quickly shifted to conflicted regret.

“Nah.” Sawyer shook his head and ran his hand along the smooth gray-and-white granite of the island. “Penn told me to stay around the house, so I should do that.”