It's a risk. It's always a risk. April wears her siren form as a kind of armor, too, because if it scares someone off, then that's it, that's all the proof she needs that they're not worth her time anyway. Les had stayed, but he's the only one.

Not that she makes a habit of showing this to many people. There are a few in Siren Cove who know, but most of them are sirens themselves and they're not bothered by the form she takes or the way her eyes go black.

It has nothing to do with her comfort. It has everything to do with gauging his reaction. She leans forward, just enough that he can see her eyes in the dark and she lets them go blow. She lets her teeth sharpen into jagged points. She lets the scales flow over her skin, though because she's dressed and on land, she limits it to just her arms, black scales that shimmer like oil in the candle light.

"I don't get cold very often," she says and even her voice is different, more musical, more commanding.