Siren Song

“Ivan?” I leaned forward eagerly. “Did he get in touch with you? Tell you what it was he needed?”



Roberto nodded. “Ivan Stefanovich came to my office yesterday. He presented his identification and said that he had to see you as soon as possible. He indicated that it was a matter of national security. He asked that he be allowed to accompany me to this meeting. I was reluctant. But I called the embassy and checked on him and he voluntarily submitted to a truth spell. So I agreed to let him come in with me, pretending to be my co-counsel. He was going to say his piece, then leave, so that we could go over your case.”



“Only he didn’t show?”



“Exactly.”



“That’s bad. Really bad.”



“I waited for a half hour, then called the number he gave me. It’s not in service. When I called the embassy, this time they said he was out of the country. Do you have any idea what this is about?”



“No more than you do. He tried to talk to me the night of Vicki’s wake, but the police separated us. He’s a telepath. I half-figured he’d try to get in touch with me mind-to-mind, but I guess they have protections up against that here.”



“Yes. They do.”



“So what do we do?”



“I guess we just go forward with our trial prep. I’ll try to find out more when we’re done. Maybe whatever it was resolved itself. Or maybe he’ll get back in touch with me. But for now, your hearing is the day after tomorrow and we’ve got to get ready for it.”



So that was what we did. But in the back of my mind I couldn’t help worrying, wondering what was going on out in the real world while I was tucked safely in the nuthouse.



4



I spent the rest of the day going through the motions, my mind caught up in worries about the court date, about whatever the hell was going on with Ivan, and, oddly, about Bruno.



Bruno DeLuca is the love of my life. I know, corny. But he is. We met in college. He’d come out west to study with Warren Landingham in one of the best Paranormal Studies departments in the world. And to put a little distance between him and his very large, very domineering Italian-American family.



We hit it off almost from the start. He’s smart, fun, and sexy as hell. He also had enough of a sense of humor not to take himself (or much of anything else) too seriously. No situation was ever too dire for Bruno Deluca to crack wise about it.



We dated, fell in love, got engaged.



And then I met the family.



Oh boy. Wasn’t that a load of fun. Not. His mother didn’t just hate me. She loathed me. All of the other daughters-in-law hated me, too. And there are a lot of them. Uncle Sal was okay with me, so was cousin Joey. But that was it. Everybody else, no.



Then there were the arguments about where we were going to live—East Coast vs. West. Children? Him: yes, lots. Me: uh, no. I like kids, but my life has been a series of dangerous disasters since I was little. I was not going to put an innocent child through that.



They say love conquers all. They lie. We loved each other desperately, but there were too many things pulling us apart. We broke up. And we stayed broken up for years. Right up until he reappeared in my life a few weeks ago.



God, I’d missed him. Miracle of miracles, he missed me, too. So, older, maybe a little wiser, we were giving it another shot.



In my mind I went over the messages he’d sent with Roberto, short verbal messages on a flash drive from the law firm’s computer answering service. “The trip home to tell the family went pretty much the way I expected.” That meant badly. “Job negotiations are going well. Uncle Sal went with me to meet with Creede and Miller.” Oh, to be a fly on the wall for that meeting. “I love you. If you can get a day pass I’ll show you just how much.” Just thinking about that made my body react. Even when things hadn’t been going well emotionally, sex with Bruno had been spectacular.



I had to get out of here. Soon. Which meant the hearing had to go well.



A long day bled into a sleepless night. After a few hours of tossing and turning I gave up on the idea of sleep altogether.



I showered and dressed, wondering what I was going to do to kill the hours until the cafeteria opened and the day actually started. I needn’t have worried. I’d no more than pulled on my slippers when there was a tap at my door.



To my surprise a tall, slender woman stood in front of me, her long auburn hair pulled back to reveal a heart-shaped face with exotic features dominated by large eyes the rich blue-green color of the waters of the Mediterranean Sea. Her silk wrap dress was of the same shade and had been cut to make the most of a figure that was designed to turn men’s heads. She was too perfect to be true. Still, I’d have sworn that every inch of her was absolutely natural. I certainly didn’t feel any of the magic I’d come to associate with attractiveness charms and there were no obvious signs of cosmetic surgery. In fact, she didn’t even appear to be wearing much in the way of makeup.



“Good morning, Celia.” I got the full weight of those extraordinary eyes. And just like that I knew. She was a siren.



“Good morning.”



“Dr. Scott was good enough to give me permission to see you.”



Not by choice he didn’t. I thought it to myself, but I was surprised when she answered.



No. Not by choice. She admitted it inside my skull. Eek. There will be about forty-five minutes that he can’t remember. He’ll assume it’s just one more sign of post-traumatic stress and schedule an appointment for an assessment.



But it’s not.



No, she admitted with a small smile. I manipulated him. But he is having problems. He should make the appointment anyway. If this pushes him to get help sooner, is that such a bad thing?



Probably not, but that didn’t make me like it any better. Life had been a lot more comfortable for me before I realized just how easy it was for the psychically gifted to manipulate people. The more I found out, the more I could sympathize with the law’s hard-line policy. If only it didn’t apply to me. Damn the luck.



The big siren gift is to enthrall men to the point that they’d do whatever the siren needed even to the point of death. They betray their families, their countries, whatever, with a smile on their face and a song in their heart. It completely takes away their free will. Which is just wrong, on so many levels. I’m a big believer in free will.



“You’re not what I expected.” She tapped a manicured fingernail against her lip as she looked me up and down.



“Really? What were you expecting?”



“I didn’t think you’d be so . . .” She hesitated and I saw in her mind what she was about to say, which was “pretty.” She smiled and it was as beautiful as the first light of dawn after a long, cold night. I’m not gay, but I can appreciate gorgeous and this woman made the top-tier most beautiful in Hollywood look like day-old dog meat. I certainly wasn’t in her league. Oh, I do all right, better than some. But there’s a big step between playing in Little League and in the pros.



“Uh, right.” I didn’t believe her and it showed.



“I’m serious.” Her expression sobered. “I expected you to look more human, or more vampire. But there’s more than a trace of us in you. In fact, you bear more of a resemblance to Queen Lopaka than Adriana does. Except for the teeth, of course.” She smirked and even that expression looked good on her. “Of course, Adriana takes after her father in every way.”



I had no idea what that was supposed to mean, so I couldn’t answer. Probably best that I stay quiet anyway.



She must have taken my silence to mean I was insulted. “I meant no offense. It’s never a bad thing to have people underestimate you.”



“Particularly my enemies.” I kept my tone light, but I’ll admit to being a teeny bit worried. My first encounter with my grandfather’s relatives had been at Vicki’s wake. While my current visitor actually spoke in American idiom and seemed friendly, it was entirely possible she was giving me a line of bull.



“You don’t trust me.”



“It’s nothing personal.” I gave her a polite smile. “I don’t trust anybody.”



That was the honest truth, put bluntly enough to make her blink and give me a long look through narrowed eyelids. “You mean that.”



“I tend to say what I mean. It’s easier.” I gave her a grin that was only partly manufactured. “Of course I can lie, if the occasion calls for it.”



“Of course. We all can.” She walked over to the window, pulling aside the curtain with one hand and turning to watch the waves hitting the beach. “May I ask what arrangements you’ve made about your hearing?”



A siren had crashed Vicki’s wake to tell me that I would have to attend a hearing on the siren island. They seem to think the vampire bite has made me a monster that may need to be put down. I’ll have to go there and deal with it—assuming I get through the court hearing okay. “I haven’t made any. Why?”



She whipped around so fast she pulled down the curtain, rod and all. She stared openmouthed at me, delicate peach-colored cotton in a death grip in her fist and puddled at her feet



I shrugged. “The other one . . . Adriana?” I made the name a question and she nodded. “Didn’t tell me squat. She showed up, caused a scene, challenged me to a duel, said I’d be put up before the tribunal of Pacific lords. Then she left.”



“A duel? The Pacific lords?”



“To the death. And yes.”



She blinked a couple of times, batting lashes almost long enough to create a breeze. “Oh my. You certainly have managed to antagonize her.”



“It wasn’t hard.” My tone was dry. “She was monumentally rude and looking to take offense.”



My visitor threw back her head and let out a peal of honest laughter. “That would be Adriana all right.”



“I don’t suppose you’re going to tell me where the ‘Isle of Serenity’ is and when I’m supposed to be there? Or are you the escort?”