A Siren's Song (Ride of the Darkyrie 2) (11 page)

             
He didn’t acknowledge my reply. “It’s been days since you’ve slept, Brynn. Sleep. I’ll take care of sanitizing the apartment and I’ll clean up Sickert’s little pit too.”

             
My first instinct was to tell him that I could do it myself. I didn’t need him to clean up after me. Those thoughts must have been scrawled on my face. “This is what I do. I’m your partner in all ways.” He kissed my forehead. “Come over to my place tonight and bring The Hel Cycle with you.”

             
I felt like a dog. Sleep. Sit. Stay. Come. “I still have a job to do,” I told him.

             
“The victim died, the scene has already been processed. You’re not going to be any good to anyone if you drop from exhaustion. Your body can regenerate, but you’re not immortal yet. Trust in me, Brynn. I’m not trying to control you. I’m doing the job you set for me yourself.”

             
The first tentative fingers of dawn streaked pink and gold through the dark sky and I knew he was right. It wouldn’t hurt to sleep at least until mid-morning. I exhaled heavily. “I’m trusting you, Jason.” I wondered if he knew how hard that was for me to say.

             
“I know.” He kissed my forehead and pulled the blankets up around my shoulders before turning on my sound machine. Jason changed the setting to white noise. “Put one of these by the door and turn it on as soon as you get home. It won’t keep that bastard out, but the Cross can’t hide in the vibration of molecules with the white noise frequency.”

             
So that was how he’d seemed to be invisible. White noise. Sound had to be the key to his weakness. I’d find a way to break him. The thought soothed me. I wouldn’t allow any creature to have the kind of power of me he’d wielded by destroying my father’s letter. Bastard. I’d crush him if it was the last fucking thing I ever did.

             
“I’ll see you tonight,” Jason said as he closed the door.

             
Sleep crept over me and I drifted on waves of silence and shadow. When I was a child, I dreamt of things that all children do. Of strange vistas and sweet things on my tongue with petrichor in the air. After Thora, those places were closed to me and I dreamt of nothing. Sleep felt like death. Until today.

             
Strangely, I found myself reliving that last day in Swope Park. The one where Sickert had started watching me. The clouds crashed together overhead, rolling in like a convoy of semis spilling their cargo all over the landscape below.

             
Lightning split the atmosphere with a hundred sharp blades and out of the blinding light stepped my father in all of his godly glory. I knew him for who he was then, not the mortal serial killer, Erik Hill. But his true form. Loki.

             
My father was the God of Chaos and bringer of darkness. It was his son, the great wolf Fenrir who would swallow the world and bring about Ragnarok. The end of all things.

             
I was truly Helreggin, Queen of Hel and Shield Maiden of the Damned.

             
I suppose after everything that has happened to me, that should have been obvious. The truth hammered home with a pair of scissors thrust into my gut. Part of me still hadn’t wanted to believe. The part that was human.

             
For as much as I claimed to be something apart from them—human, I’d still been born of mortal flesh as well as divine. Hadn’t I?

             
Even though I knew it was him, I couldn’t resist asking, “Daddy?”

             
His hard features softened, his full mouth curving into the smile I’d only ever seen him give to me. He opened his arms to me and I ran to him, like I did when I was a little girl. He smelled of all things good: the storm, winter, and Nutella.

             
“I’m proud of you, Brynn.”

             
His approval bloomed warm and happy. Something I hadn’t felt in a very long time. I wanted to cling to these reminders of childhood, wrap them around me like a blanket.

             
“You’ve always been my favorite of all my children.”

             
“I’ve missed you. Your guidance.”

             
“It may not seem like it, but I’ve given you everything you need to defeat any foe.”

             
“Even the Cross?”

             
“Never let him bring you so low again.” He grabbed my chin with his fingers and tilted my face up so I was forced to look up at him. Electricity crackled through his fingertips, stinging my cheeks. “Do you understand me?”

             
“Yes, Father.” His eyes were shifting pools of the eternal, from the frigid blue of winter to the brown of a fawn, then to the leafy green of an ancient forest slipping away into black decay, only to melt into blue again.

             
“Don’t let them use anything against you. Especially not me. Don’t forget, Brynn. I’ve already given you everything you need. Remember your lessons. I’d rather not have to teach them again.”

             
His voice was so kind and even, but my father was the only thing that truly frightened me. Lessons at his hands were brutal and something to be feared. More than anything Baldur could devise, or even the Cross.

             
I’d forgotten that because I’d missed him so much.

             
“I failed,” I confessed.

             
“No, you didn’t fail. It’s a lesson you still have to learn.”

             
I barely suppressed a shudder. I’d asked for his guidance, and now I had it. My father was how I’d defined my world. I couldn’t change the parameters now because I didn’t like what he had to say.

             
Could I?

             
“A cop is dead.”

             
“You said yourself one day he’d be on the other side of the line, Brynn.”

             
“One day. Not yesterday. Not today. You know that’s not how I work.”

             
“Maybe it should be.” He flashed me a full blown grin.

             
“You were the one who taught me to take only what was mine.”

             
“That hasn’t changed, but maybe the definition of what is yours has.”

             
“You are very much like their devil, aren’t you?” I asked softly.

             
“Humans never reach their full potential without pain and suffering.” He stroked his thumb over my cheek just as he had when I was small. “It’s time to wake up now. You have a doctor to hunt.”

             
An explosion of thunder and light jerked me into wakefulness. They sky had been like a blushing virgin, all pink and pale when I’d fallen asleep, now it was black and grey, heavy with the storm.

             
The clock on my nightstand read four p.m. I’d slept much longer than I meant to.

             
I didn’t doubt for a moment that my dream had been real.

             
He’d said I had a doctor to hunt. Did he mean the Capri Killer or Larkin?

             
I’d promised myself I’d take care of Dr. James Larkin, so I decided it didn’t matter what my father meant. This was my realm and here I was judge, jury and executioner. Larkin belonged to me. I should have handled him already. Angela Crane deserved some peace instead of living in fear of the stepfather who’d killed her sister, raped her, and threatened to kill her, too. I’d already caught him hanging around the safe house. His behavior would escalate as soon as it became clear he wasn’t going to get his way and the little cage he’d built around Angela had already crumbled.

             
A familiar tingle that always made me think of fairies dancing on my skin skittered through my senses. This was what I needed. Not Jason and his pretty words, or pretty touches.
This
.

             
I dressed quickly, pulling on nondescript slacks and a white blouse, tucking my hair up under a ball cap. Casting a quick look around the loft before I left, it appeared as if Jason had been true to his word and had cleaned the place. I’d sanitize it again later, just in case.

             
I’d actually considered burning the building down since I’d contaminated my lair. There was no way to be completely sure I’d gotten rid of all of the evidence. Some stray fiber stuck to my shoe, a bit of DNA… If for some reason those things were found, I could say I must have picked it up at some crime scene like the Capri.

             
I pushed all thoughts of the previous night out of my head. I had to stop second-guessing myself. What was done, was done. There were no do-overs, no mulligans.

             
What I did have was Dr. James Larkin. If I hurried, I could probably catch him as he was leaving his office.

             
I hadn’t decided how I’d kill him. Something that would take a long time. I’d dig out of him what he’d done with Kelly’s body, Angela’s older sister, before I let him die.

             
For the first time, I wondered what happened to my prey after they were dead. It pleased me to think of impressing the good doctor into my army. He didn’t have any skills to offer, except service. I’d let him take his flesh with him to Hel and he’d be prey for the other predators. That resonated with the other presence inside me, Helreggin. If only I could remember how it was done.

             
My father said he’d given me all of the tools I needed. I trusted that when the time was right, I’d know what had to be done.

             
I Googled Larkin’s office on my phone as I left my loft and secured the door. It was a Prairie Village address. Lovely neighborhood. Normally, I would have stalked him, mapped out his routine and every possible scenario down to how long it took him to exhale his last breath. But my dream had emboldened me.

             
My mind was centered and focused as I drove and before long, I found the address. His office was in a large house that had once been a residence, but the sign out front proudly proclaimed it his place of business.

             
I knocked on the door and surprise was obvious on Larkin’s face.

             
“Is that offer to talk about Angela still open, Doc?” I gave him my best, do-gooder smile. Let him believe I bought into his bullshit.

             
“Officer Hill, truthfully, I didn’t expect you.”

             
Whenever someone added “truthfully” on to any statement, it was the first cue that everything else coming out of their mouth would be anything but truthful.

             
He was trying to hide something.

             
So I pushed past him like I’d been invited and I noticed the house place smelled of chocolate chip cookies.

             
“That smells wonderful.”

             
“My wife bakes cookies every other day to keep the place smelling so homey.”

             
“That’s kind of her. I bet she misses doing those things for Angela and Kelly.”

             
“She does. Cries herself to sleep every night. I just can’t stand what this has done to our family.”

             
“I’m sure.” I nodded. “So, what is it you think will help Angela?”

             
“Coming home.”

             
“Baby steps, Dr. Larkin. You know how the system works.” I wandered into his office and sat down in an overstuffed leather chair. There were the usual diplomas and certifications hanging on the wall. A picture of Angela, Kelly, their mother and Larkin.

             
Angela told me about long, torturous hours spent in this room. Being forced to submit to Larkin was one thing, but Angela made it sound like there was something even more horrible about the room. Some proof of Larkin’s depravity.

             
I opened myself up and reached for that silver cord that was his distinct aberration. He was so arrogant, so secure in the world he’d built himself. He was confident that no one would ever believe a girl over him—the esteemed country club shrink. Angela represented innocence, something he wanted to reclaim. He’d have to cleanse her, scrub her—I blocked those thoughts. I already knew what he was capable of with her.

             
Using my gift, I began unraveling the cord, looking for the fibers that wove it together. Kelly hadn’t been his first, there was nothing special about her, except she felt…present. Not a spirit, but…the gleam of the hourglass on his desk caught my attention. I picked it up.

             
It was white and smooth, like ivory. But it wasn’t ivory and the grains in the glass weren’t sand.