Call of the Siren (18 page)

Ronin let him go and knelt to run a hand down Lina’s cheek. “Lina, I’m sorry for everything I’ve done to hurt you. I love you.”

She gave Ronin a half-hearted smile, closing her hand over his. “I love you too, jackass. Now get the hell out of here before I inadvertently blow you to smithereens.”

Ronin wordlessly rose and headed toward Keegan.

The expression on Keegan’s face practically tore Dagan in two. He couldn’t have looked more sick to his stomach. Dagan gave him a quiet nod that acknowledged his eldest brother’s unspoken request to keep himself safe.

“Take care of yourself, little bro,” Taeg said, his voice uncharacteristically serious.

Dagan watched as his brothers and Maya left the clearing. Part of him wanted to yell for them to come back, not to leave him. He’d gotten so used to the four of them handling things together. But he’d made the right call. Lina needed his help, and he was going to give it to her.

“You should have gone with them,” Lina croaked, her voice resigned.

Dagan turned to her with a grin. “And miss out on the fun of hanging out with you? No way.”

She let out a hoarse laugh. “Here’s to hoping we live to see tomorrow.”

Wasn’t that the freaking truth? But she didn’t need to know he felt the same way about their chances. Right now, she needed strength and reassurance.

He gave her a cheeky wink. “Nothing like living on the edge, sweetheart.”

Nothing like living on the edge.

Chapter Seventeen

“What do you mean they’ve escaped?”

How was such a thing even possible?

After stomping down the wide stone steps leading to the castle grounds, Belpheg raked his chief sentinel Emry with his withering gaze. “They were outnumbered!”

Emry flinched, folding his yellow wings into his body. “They slipped away through the holes they rent in the shield and then lost us in the woods. We traced their tracks back to the site of the portal, but they were already gone, and we couldn’t pick up their trail on the other side.”

Belpheg gritted his teeth, and a stray bolt of energy zipped from his body, flitting through the air above Emry. The sentinel bit back a yelp and ducked, his eyes going wide with terror. Belpheg turned away before he gave into his urge to destroy the ishtari demon. Much as he might want to do so, halfway decent help was hard to find these days, and the kind that flew was even harder to come by.

“You assured me you’d be able to capture them once they broke through the shield,” he said quietly. “
Easily
, you said.”

“Ye-yes, but…we didn’t expect them to break the shield in so many spots…or to bring winged backup.”

The brothers had taken a great risk in bringing help with them. Of course, it was no more than could be expected, given their prior track record. Which was why Belpheg had taken the extra insurance of booby-trapping the blond angel. Time to make better use of her.

“Find Thorne,” he said to Emry. “Have him bring the angel to me.”

Once the brothers knew she’d been rigged to go off on his command, they’d be sure to fall into place. At least her adopted angel sibling would, and he already knew from witnessing their actions that where one brother went, the others would eventually follow.

A hoarse chuckle from somewhere behind him had him whirling around. It was Rage, Mammon’s long-lost son. He leaned casually against the stone railing with his hand in the pocket of his black jeans. A hint of a silver necklace peeked out from the collar of his fitted black shirt, and he wore a matching ring on his right hand.

“What is it?” Belpheg snapped at the vampire hybrid, who gazed at him in amusement.

“You’re gonna find it hard to talk to Thorne,” the vampire said. “I found him in the room of that hostage you took. He’s dead.”

Belpheg sucked in a breath, somehow setting off a momentary stutter in his heart.

“The angel killed him?” That should have been all but impossible, with the amount of score racing through her veins. While a small amount of it might have lent her strength, she’d had far too much to be able to do much more than vomit and shake.

Rage shrugged. “Don’t know if she was the one who killed him. But she’s gone.”

“Gone? But she must be here somewhere.” He couldn’t have lost the brothers, Thorne,
and
his leverage. That would be inconceivable.

“Ex—excuse me, sir.”

Belpheg furiously turned toward the stuttering voice. It was one of Emry’s ishtaris. He slunk forward from behind the chief sentinel, his gaze cast low to the ground. Immediately, Belpheg knew he wasn’t going to like what the ishtari had to say.

“What is it?” he bellowed.

“The—there was a hole in the shield along the rear of the property. I saw an angel fly out of it with another man and a blond woman in his arms. She looked like she was unconscious.”

“
What
?” His jaw clenched as he turned back to Emry, who flinched. “Wasn’t that the last hole to be placed in the shield? There shouldn’t have been enough time to rescue her, much less the fact that she was drugged insensible. Are you telling me someone actually made it inside the castle and came back out with her, undetected?”

Emry shook where he stood. “You-you said you wouldn’t need to expend any energy in bespelling the house. That they wouldn’t get that far.”

Damn, but the demon was right.

Belpheg drew in a deep, calming breath and paced a short distance from the rest of the men. The simple fact was he’d underestimated the brothers. Once again.

Though he’d expected Mammon’s sons to use the sword to tear the shield, he’d been overly confident his men would disable them once they arrived. He hadn’t wanted to expend any additional power on his shields because that was much-needed energy that could be conserved for himself.

Now he had only one card left in his deck. The tracking device he’d implanted on the angel. Thanks to it, he’d located the four brothers just yesterday and placed tails on them and their mates. If not for that, he’d have no clue about their secret hideout.

The brothers were bound to return to their hideout, but while part of him longed simply to attack them there, it was a risky endeavor. He’d have to bring his scrolls, would have to reveal that weakness. And they were so crafty he wouldn’t put it past one of them to escape before he managed to get them back here. Yes, he could bring the succubi and simply have Mammon absorb their powers right there, but that was too complicated a scenario, with far too many players.

Hmm… according to his spies, one of the brother’s mates and their child was already there. If he sent Mammon, would the demon be able to make it to the hideout before the brothers arrived?

Now there was a thought.

Turning, he strode back to Emry. “Get Mammon out here immediately. It’s time for him to make himself useful.”

The chief sentinel flashed him a grateful look before racing into the house to do his bidding.

“Didn’t you put some sort of bomb in that hot angel?” Rage spoke up from where he still leaned against the railing. “Why not set it off?”

Belpheg gritted his teeth at the vampire’s ignorance. “If I do that, I’m likely to kill the Detainors, and I want them alive.”

Damn Thorne and his incompetence. The angel had been his duty, the bomb nothing more than a method to bend the Detainors to his will. If Thorne had been able to keep her restrained, Belpheg would still have his leverage, but now his plan had backfired. Good thing for the hubrin demon that he was dead. Otherwise, Belpheg would have torn him limb from limb, unnecessary use of his powers be-damned.

“Too bad,” Rage commented, his tone amused. “The bomb was for nothing, then.”

Belpheg scowled and swept up the stairs, ignoring the vampire. He was a fool. If Belpheg didn’t have use for him, he would have destroyed the man by now. But what Rage didn’t realize was that his fate was to be the same as the brothers he’d never met. Though it amused Belpheg to keep Rage around, mostly because it clearly disconcerted Mammon so much, the vampire’s days were numbered. Once Mammon absorbed the life sources of the four Detainors through the succubi, Rage would be the final piece of the puzzle.

And Belpheg would at last have the twelve he needed for his circle.

…

The soft but steady croaking of crickets woke Lina from a dreamless, healing slumber, instantly telling her she wasn’t in her bed. Insects were far from a normal sound in her tiny West Village apartment. She suffered a moment of panic trying to remember what had happened, but then the memories came racing back.

Thorne…the bomb…escaping through the portal with Dagan.

From there, the memories dimmed, letting her know she’d probably relapsed into unconsciousness. The upside was that she seemed to have slept through the worst of the nausea and shakes. Now she felt mostly sweaty and grimy.

She slowly sat up in the small bed, waiting for her eyes to adjust to the darkness. She was in a rustic log cabin, lying beneath a blue, green, and ivory striped comforter. Windows were cut into the log walls, and they were cracked open to magnify the singing of the insects.

A moment later, the sound of footsteps along a wooden floor padded toward her. The electrifying energy stream told her it was Dagan.

Holy shit, Dagan.
He’d stuck with her, despite the fact that it could very well mean his death. Even more surprising, Ronin had allowed it.

Before she could further ponder that, the door slid open a fraction, admitting a sliver of light from what must be a dimly lit lamp in the other room. Dagan peered inside, his turquoise eyes landing on hers with relief.

“Thank the devil, you’re awake.”

She nodded, self-consciously patting down her hair. It was tangled beyond belief and slightly crunchy to the touch, as if she’d vomited in it at some point. Hell, she probably had.

Wincing, she forced herself to meet his gaze. “How long have I been out?”

“Not long. A couple hours at most,” he murmured, stepping further into the room. He didn’t turn on the light, no doubt recognizing that such a drastic lighting change would likely give her a splitting headache. Rather, he left the door open as he strode to the bed and sat down beside her.

“How you feeling?” he asked softly.

“Like shit.”

He chuckled, and for the first time she noted what he was wearing: an overlarge, gray T-shirt and black sweatpants that looked a couple sizes too big. While she couldn’t call it an improvement over the snug black boxer briefs he’d been clad in earlier, it was certainly less distracting.

“Where are we?” she asked.

“Somewhere in upstate New York.” He shrugged. “After we let out from the portal, I drove until I found an old, secluded cabin out in the woods. There’s no one around for miles as far as I can tell.”

She read his unspoken words.
No one else around to get hurt if I go ka-boom.

“Thank you,” she murmured.

A brief smile lit his face. His eyes moved from her face down her body, leaving a trail of heat and awareness she couldn’t quite ignore.

“I figured you’d want a shower when you woke.”

“Hell, yeah.” Now that Dagan had mentioned it, she didn’t know how she could go another minute without one.

“There’s a small bathroom right outside this room. I laid out some clothes I found on the countertop next to the sink, but they’ll be huge on you.”

“I presume it’s from the same benefactor who provided your clothes.”

When he nodded, she peeled the comforter from her body, wincing at the momentary stab of pain her stomach. He noticed it, though. His mouth tightened, and he reached forward, lifting her shirt up to reveal the spot where the dark fae had implanted her with a magical bomb. Thanks to her angelic healing power, the skin was smooth and unmarred. Only someone with Maya’s immunity to glamour would be able to see it for what it really was.

“I can’t believe it,” he murmured, his brows furrowing. “How was that bastard even capable of doing something like that?”

“Belpheg is strong. He has powers beyond what we’re accustomed to.” Which was what made him such an unpredictable foe. “If I try to cut it out, it’ll detonate.”

Dagan’s jaw clenched. “I don’t get it. If he’s so powerful, what could he possibly want with us?”

“I don’t know,” she answered. “But it is you he wants. The four of you.”

His eyes rose to meet hers, and the flaming blue heat in them momentarily stole her breath. “Does it hurt?”

“Just a bit sore.” Nothing to complain about. At least
that
wasn’t. “You shouldn’t have come with me. You’re risking your life for no reason.”

“I wouldn’t say it’s for
no
reason,” he murmured.

Something wild and heavy suddenly flavored the air between them, making her breath catch. Only the realization that she probably stank to high heaven was enough to make her unglue her gaze from his.

“I… I’d better go wash up.”

He nodded and rose, the hem of his sweater momentarily lifting to reveal that the sweatpants were slung low on his hips. A hint of a happy trail disappeared beneath the knot in his pants.

Lina held her breath at the sudden clenching of lust in her body. Horniness had never been one of the symptoms of recovering from score, so she couldn’t blame her reaction on anything other than pure, instinctive desire. She’d secretly lusted after Dagan for so long, and now they were alone together…for the devil knew how long.

How would she survive it?

After rising to her feet with only the minimal nauseous response, she followed Dagan outside the bedroom. She stepped directly into a tiny living area, with nothing more than a battered old couch in front of a grimy fireplace, a small two-seater dinette in one corner, and an adjoining kitchen with a two-burner stove. Soft, crackling music played from a radio somewhere, the song classifying the station as one that played the “Oldies,” but there was no television in sight. This was a hunting cabin with nothing but the essentials.

“Clearly a bachelor’s paradise,” she murmured.

Dagan chuckled. “At least there’s electricity and water.”

That alone made it better than her old hovel back on Infernum, so she wasn’t about to complain.

“I’ll be right back.” With those words, she disappeared inside the door to the right of the bedroom. The bathroom was even tinier than the kitchen, but it contained a small tub with a shower, and the water was hot. She peeled off her sweaty clothes, tossing them in a corner until she could thoroughly wash them out, and hopped in the shower. The steamy water sluiced down her body, washing away the aches and grime of her drug-induced high. If only it would wash away the memories as well.

Thorne had betrayed her. He’d sold her to the dark fae like no more than a second-hand possession. The worst part about it was that she wasn’t even that surprised. After all, a man who could forget his own daughter’s name would have no qualms about using his former bond mate to get in tight with a powerful fae.

Any warm feelings she might have still retained for the demon were long gone, leaving just one certain fact: next time she saw him, he was dead meat.

After using a thick bar of soap to furiously scrub her hair and body clean, she let it all rinse away, taking the remnants of her headache along with her. Honestly, she didn’t feel too bad considering she’d been drugged—twice—with more score than any person should realistically do in a month. Of course, this was only the first of many lulls in her recovery period. Another painful lesson she’d learned long ago.