Siren Song

Creede looked at King Dahlmar, who gave a curt nod. Matty had blessed each and every person in our group. Those who weren’t Christian weren’t really sure what to think about the man in black with the cross, but a holy man is a holy man in pretty much every religion. It also surprised me that Matty was able to switch between languages easily and that the prayer he offered was slightly different for each person.



Creede stood directly in front of the king, Matty and I immediately behind Dahlmar; the four of us and Adriana were surrounded by a thick ring of soldiers. I felt my stomach tighten with nerves as a deep voice in the far corner began to count down from ten. At “one” I felt the familiar lurch, as if the world were moving sideways. I barely heard the word “now” and we were there.



23



It’s one thing to see a plan play out in a clairvoyant’s bowl. It is another to have it happen in real life. I’d half-expected Okalani to run into a magical shield like the one we’d erected earlier around the conference room. Whether Kristoff was too arrogant, didn’t have mages with enough oompf, or there were too many people going in and out of the room, he hadn’t bothered.



We materialized into absolute chaos. The press conference was being held in a large room, but the space was crammed with press and equipment. The only clear spots were a small area in front of the stage and another small space between the table where Kristoff sat behind the microphone and his uniformed men stood guard.



We appeared in front of the stage, weapons at the ready. Okalani disappeared immediately and the mages who’d replaced those injured by the demon attack raised a barrier, sealing the room.



There were screams and the flashing of cameras. Kristoff’s guards went for their guns and curses—and froze in place when King Dahlmar stepped into view.



Kristoff staggered to his feet so abruptly that the chair clattered to the floor behind him. He didn’t realize the mike was live when he gasped, “No. You’re dead,” in a tone of unmistakable horror that made it absolutely clear just how unhappy he was that his father had made it home. Kristoff reached inside his jacket, probably for a weapon, only to be knocked to the ground and subdued by one of his own guards—a man loyal to the rightful ruler of the country.



In all the confusion, I shouldn’t have been able to hear Matty’s horrified gasp: “Irene? Emma?”



I turned and stared at the familiar faces that Matty was addressing . . . Eirene? Eirene, Irene, Ren. How stupid could I be?



Her perfect features were twisted in rage. Emma screamed in shock and outrage as Eirene grabbed her from behind and wrapped an arm around her throat. Emma kicked and struggled, scratching at the siren’s arm, but Eirene had preter-natural strength and knew what she was doing. She’d cut off enough of her captive’s oxygen that Emma couldn’t fight for long before she passed out from lack of oxygen. Still using Emma’s limp body as a shield, Eirene pulled a small ceramic disk from her pocket. “You will let me go, now. Or I will summon the demon to destroy you all.”



Kristoff reached out a hand toward her, panic etched on his face. “Irene . . . beloved, wait! Take me with you!” Great, just great. The prince struggled against the guards holding him, but they shoved his face to the floor with considerable force. When the guard jammed the barrel of his 9mm against the prince’s temple, Kristoff stilled.



“Tell them, Celia. They do not believe me, but they should. I will loose the demon.” She smiled and it sent chills down my spine. God help us, a part of her wanted to do it. She’d used the demonic too often. The demon was gaining the upper hand. She thought she controlled him, but she was a fool. I could see it in her eyes.



“Let Emma go and I’ll tell them to let you leave.”



She laughed, just like I expected her to. But hey, nothing ventured— “You don’t get to give me orders, Celia. No one is ever going to give me orders again. Adriana may be satisfied with the scraps of power the others are willing to throw her. I am not.”



Matty struggled against the guards on our side to reach her. He still believed he could talk sense into her. I was sorry for that. Knowing that she was tainted by a demon, that she’d been in the DeLuca home, in the heart of their family—that was going to haunt him. “Irene . . . think of the baby. You have to give yourself up. We can help you.”



That’s when it really struck home with me that Bruno had lain with this . . . creature. He’d dated her, made love to her, and given her a child. Had he just been bewitched by a siren’s charms, or was it a much deeper, demonic issue? That thought scared the crap out of me.



“Baby?” She sneered and there was an unpleasant edge of hysteria to it. “Ah, you mean the lie I told your fool of a brother.” She turned to me. “There was no baby. I merely convinced the doctor to tell him that. But you—” She pointed at me with a long finger that was starting to blacken from her constant brush with the demonic. “You didn’t break. I took your man from you. That should drive a true siren insane. But it didn’t. You weren’t destroyed. Not by that, not by the curse, not even when we killed your prophet. You were supposed to break, supposed to die.”



At last I knew who was behind Vicki’s death. That she’d remained in ghost form after we jailed the doctor said something was wrong. I was both relieved that she could finally have peace and heartsick that she’d been killed just to hurt me. She deserved so much better.



A man’s voice came from behind me. “You’ll never get away with this.” It was a cliché, of course, but somebody had to say it. I suppose Creede was as good a choice as anyone else. “Give up while you can.”



“I don’t think so.” She turned to Dahlmar. “Order your people to drop the barrier. Let me leave, or die with the rest.”



He stared at her and for a moment I thought he’d take his chances, such hate blazed in his eyes. She’d cost him both his sons, nearly cost him his throne. I was sure he’d have his men shoot her through Emma’s unconscious body.



I was right. At a gesture they opened fire and hit—nothing. Over and over again. The press were screaming and stampeding each other trying to find cover where there was none. Bullet holes riddled the wall behind where Eirene stood, but there was no blood. None at all.



“Cease fire!” I bellowed, trying to be heard over the deafening sound of too much gunfire in a confined space. “You’re wasting your ammo. She’s phasing in and out too fast.” It was a smart move and not something I’d have guessed she could do. But it made sense. She might not be able to move out of the room, but she could teleport a fraction of an inch within the room and be dematerialized 99 percent of the time, giving them nothing to hit.



“Cease fire,” King Dahlmar repeated, and the guns fell silent.



Eirene held the ceramic disk in front of Emma’s face where we could all see it. “No more of this. I leave. Now.”



Dahlmar’s voice was cold, hard. But he gave the order she wanted: “Let her go.”



The world lurched and they vanished. Eirene and the demon had Emma.



Oh, shit.



24



“Is this another one of Dahlmar’s plans?” It was late evening and I was sitting in a cheap motel room. There wasn’t much space, the whole place was probably only twelve-by-twelve, with most of the room taken up by a double bed. There was a dresser and a battered old television, a mini-fridge, a microwave, and one of those small prefab laminate tables, its surface pocked with cigarette scars. Helen Baker had set up a scrying bowl in the center of the table and was trying to sooth my frazzled nerves by showing me what was going on.



It wasn’t helping. I was in a foul mood and trying not to take it out on anyone. Of course the only person I could take it out on right now was Baker, and she wasn’t exactly the type to put up with it.



I looked up from the scrying bowl to the woman using it. Baker might not be as powerful a clairvoyant as her mother but had enough talent for this. She also had the added advantage of being able to do double duty and serve as a guard.



“King Dahlmar may have been involved in the planning, I’m not sure.” She gave me a puzzled look.



“It just sounds like one of his plans.” I drained the last of my packaged shake and tossed the empty can into the trash. I knew I should stop grumbling, but I couldn’t seem to help myself. A big part of it was that the plan had been foisted on me. I hadn’t been part of the process. I’d just been told what to do. I don’t obey orders well. But the people in charge of this operation were all heavy hitters and I owed more than one of them my freedom and/or my life. So I went along . . . grudgingly. It didn’t help that I thought it was damned cruel, allowing most of my friends and family to believe I was dead—to the point of actually holding the visitation and funeral. Only a very choice few were privy to the truth: King Dahlmar, Matty, Bruno, Kevin, Creede, Queen Lopaka and a couple of her people, and my grandmother. Too many, really. If you want to keep a secret a secret, you don’t tell anyone.



“They couldn’t have at least picked a high-end hotel for this?”



Baker laughed. “High-end hotels have security cameras and staff that actually pay attention to the comings and goings. Our people wouldn’t be able to stand guard unnoticed.”



True enough. But still. I couldn’t help but look at the grubby carpeting again, not really wanting to walk across it in shoes, much less barefoot.



I turned my attention back to the scene playing out in the bowl. I’d been afraid Gran wouldn’t be able to pull off the whole mourning thing, but I could see she was acting up a storm. Maybe she’d missed her true calling in life.



“You did actually die, you know. During the exorcism.” Baker sounded impressed. I was guessing it was because of the exorcism, not the death. Being in the military, she’d probably seen plenty of the latter. Then again, the sirens aren’t exactly a military superpower, so maybe not.



“So they tell me.” King Dahlmar and Matty had arranged for me to have an exorcism right at the scene. A little unusual, but Creede’s spell had actually held the demon away from me and they were afraid if they waited, the demon would be able to zero in again. I’d gone along because I wanted the demon mark off of me. If we were going after Eirene to rescue Emma, none of us could afford for me to have that kind of a weakness. First, Matty had cleansed the room, moving in smaller and smaller circles until only Creede and I were left. The closer Matty got, the worse I started to feel and the more Creede had to drain his own energy to keep the gate closed.