The Siren Series 1: Ember

Volume One of The Siren Breeders

by Marata Eros

Volume One of The Siren Breeders

Copyright 2012 Marata Eros

http://marataeroseroticaauthor.blogspot.com/

Smashwords
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prior written permission of the publisher.

This book is a work of
fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are products
of the writer's imagination or have been used fictitiously and are
not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or
dead, actual events, locales or organizations is entirely
coincidental.

All rights are reserved.

Edited by Hazel Novak

Adult Reading Material

The material in this document contains
explicit sexual material that is intended for mature audiences only
and is inappropriate for readers under eighteen years of age.

For~

R
õ
nin the Brilliant.

You have the fattest brain I've ever had the
pleasure of engaging....

CHAPTER 1

Constantine opened his eyes to a great cavern, a
rushing sound in his ears, his head a throbbing mass of pain.

Con had learned the power of observing one's
surroundings and it did not fail him now. He carefully tested his
equilibrium and sat up, his head swimming with a vertigo that made
his vision triple. When that finally settled he took in a cavernous
space and a ceiling made of stone. Spikes of softly colored opaque
quartz-like stalactites hung as if suspended in midair.

The rushing sound had been the sea.

At the mouth of the cave the wild and churning
water roared and lapped at the entrance in angry turmoil. Night had
cloaked the water thoroughly, but to his vampire sight it had the
deepest tone of green, black kissed by emerald. Constantine stood
at the mouth of the cave and understood that he had survived the
“test” Desmond had set for him. He was everything and nothing.

A mongrel of many species. Druid enough to
respond like a rabid dog on a leash to a pure female, Faction
enough for criminal pursuits, and Exotic enough to be a sexual
slave to a female who also possessed that blood.

Now his blood had sung the melody of the
sea.

A siren's wail.

Con's blood had surfaced like an escaped bubble
and burst when it reached its end.

Now Constantine was alone in an obvious
intermediary place of the Sirens. They would come and he would be
ready.

The barest scrape on stone had Con turning in a
crouched pose, his blood starvation coming to him with a slamming
intensity when he saw the delicate feast that had slipped from
between two of the stones.

A female of the Mer.

There was not lighting poor enough to mask her
ethereal beauty. His eyes began at the roots of her platinum hair,
strands of silver like tinsel twined through it. As she moved
nearer, he saw that small pearls had been woven into the softly
curling strands. Nearly white, they shone with the faintest colors
of the sea, their watered green and blue iridescence emphasizing
her paleness.

It was her eyes that caused Constantine to
become utterly still.

They were the flame of a low burning fire, burnt
down to the coals of the deepest red, like wine. Like blood.

Con swallowed against his blood lust. Her gown
of the palest blue like the great glaciers in the north swirled
around her ankles, her feet bare.

“I am Ember,” she said in a throaty voice that
had a catch. It was water falling, sheeting on his mind.

His soul.

Constantine shook his head at the sound of the
waves gently lapping and got down to what mattered.

Feeding.

Then he would ravage this maiden of the Mer.

The demon of his sadism had been released and
found a home.

He moved forward and grabbed the maiden against
him and the sound of the sea washed against him.

It was no longer at the entrance of the cave,
but suspended above his head in a humanoid shape.

A wall of water with a head, gills and a trident
stood looming above Constantine.

Con hadn't known his true lineage. It had been
hidden from him. And unknown to him, he had been abused for his
uniqueness in an effort to break him.

Constantine was not broken.

He broke others.

Ducking from the calling card of a trident made
of water, he released the maiden with the eyes of fire and threw
his hand up instinctively.

The water exploded, the deadly fork becoming
droplets that sprayed everything within a ten foot radius and Con
straightened. Looking at what he'd done.

“Vampire,” a watery voice said from behind him.
“Do not move or I shall use what I have to spear your worthless
hide.”

Con didn't listen; in a savage twist he used his
elbow to hit the weapon and took it deeply into the flesh of his
bicep, the muscle giving to the metal and his fangs were released
from their prison of flesh as he raked them across whatever was
closest.

It was the neck of the one who'd spoken.
Constantine gave a satisfied grunt, drinking from his opponent and
tearing the trident out of the flesh of his arm with his opposite
hand, its barbed ends tearing chunks out of his skin.

Con was clubbed from behind and felt his mouth
fall away from his meal.

The leader of the Sirens stood above him. His
pale tunic and matching pants were of the lightest ivory, yet still
they contrasted with his skin. He was paler than even Con as the
vampire.

The female came to stand beside him, her deep
blood-red eyes giving Con a look of derision.

“This is the mixed-blood?” she asked and he
nodded.

“Hmmm,” she said like Constantine had been a
disappointment to her.

Fuck that
, Con thought as his head
throbbed from an entirely new problem. However, this time he took
note of where everyone stood, healing as he leapt to his feet. He
used the stone wall at his back and watched as three warriors, each
with identical tridents moved to flank Desmond and the female.

Ember.

A name that matched her unusual eyes.

Con was aggrieved, he wanted an explanation. He
wanted to feed, needed to feed. The blood from the Mer Warrior had
barely been sufficient. His fangs refused to retract, he was too
far gone for that.

He crouched again, hissing. Swinging his dark
hair out of his eyes he came at them and Desmond, looking bored
swung his obsidian gaze to the others.

“Hold him.”

Con tore at the throat of the first who
approached him and Ember used a cup made of alabaster, throwing the
contents on his wounded throat, the sea mixing with the blood and
the wound closed.

“I will heal all that you wound. Submit now,
Faction,” she said in her liquid voice.

Constantine looked at her, his body moving to
hers against his will. “I will never submit.”

“I know,” she said quietly and threw the
remaining sludge at him. It hit his skin like acid and Constantine
howled.

Con simply did not have enough blood in his
system to repair this newest affront. He gritted his teeth against
his screams of pain and the two other warriors of the Mer
approached him with caution.

It was warranted, his arm was still bleeding
slowly from the wound inflicted by the barbed sea fork and now he
had the concoction that healed the Mer burning like a cobweb of
fire on his flesh.

Still, Con swept his foot up in a stabbing punch
that took out the knee of the closest warrior and Desmond barked
out a laugh. “He is most resilient, our Con.”

“Yes,” Ember said with distaste. She thought him
a wild specimen.
Why her brother still worked with any of the
Faction was beyond her,
she thought as she watched the
half-breed incapacitate another Warrior of the Mer. He had proven
himself a vicious fighter.

Of course, there had been the Druid Faction that
had saved her, Kier. That one incident kept their indebtedness to
that group intact. Now that time was past, thank the Mother. It was
a good thing that he now ruled the Druid vampire, he and his queen,
Holly. The Faction had taken a great loss of numbers in the Seattle
coven and Ember was glad. She shuddered to think of it. Even though
her assault had been two decades prior....

“Do I bore you sister?”

“No, I was lost in thought,” Ember said as Con
felled the last warrior like a mighty tree, kicking the huge Mer in
the ribs for good measure.

Constantine faced the two sadistic fucks of the
Sirens and said deceptively calm voice, “Did I pass your litmus
test, Desmond?”

“It is Prince Desmond to you.”

“I bow to no one, obviously,” he said with a
certainty that was absolute.

“I like him,” Ember decided. He was a raw
presence, certainly, but fiercer than most of the Siren guard.

“Good. For he is your new guard,” Desmond
replied cryptically.

Constantine was stunned. He would not guard a
female. “I take my pleasure from females, I will not be called to
protect one,” he said with clear distaste.

Desmond lifted a muscular shoulder. “If you were
not Mer, then you would be without use or value. That you do not
wish to have this position of honor means the same.”

Constantine understood the implication: he would
guard Ember or he would be cast out yet again, shunned from another
group. Floating on the muddled ocean of his mixed species standing,
belonging nowhere.

Without purpose.

“If it is that you are afraid...?” Ember goaded
him, hoping to get underneath his thick skin.

Constantine blurred to her before the lilt in
her voice could make it a question. With a tightening of his eyes,
Desmond made the sea a drone of pain in Constantine's mind and his
hands came to the sides of his head, remembering instantly the pain
of the Mother. He remained on his feet through sheer grit
alone.

“You may have some control of the sea, I do not
know how it is possible with what little blood of the Mer you
possess, but know this: if you touch my sister with intent to harm,
I will let the storm of an unending sea undo you. And when you are
revived, a new tide will come to the shores of your mind.”

Constantine believed him. He hesitated, the
moment swelling like a scene in slow motion.

Then an odd thing occurred.

Ember opened her mouth and called to
Constantine, it was a singular note of music that jerked the
deepest part of himself to the forefront and he moved to her like a
puppet.

The purest musical trill lifted, soaring and
falling like a thread of silken timbre that caused the fine bones
in his body to vibrate subtly. Before he knew what he was doing his
hands were on her face, cupping the smallness between his massive
palms.

Her mouth closed softly and those lips, shell
pink and soft became a perfect tempting pout.

“He is Mer enough,” Ember said quietly, her eyes
held in his, fire and the deepest brown were mixed together in a
shade that was almost black.

Desmond nodded, taking in the Merstruck Con, his
eyes dilated and skin flushed.

“He is Druid as well,” Desmond said coming
toward the entwined pair.

Con turned to Desmond and hissed, drawing the
small Mer behind his huge warrior's body.

“Definitely Druid,” Desmond smirked.

“And Exotic,” Ember added dryly from behind
him.

“The perfect assassin.”

“The perfect bodyguard,” she agreed.

Constantine did not want to be either. He wished
to be included, to belong... and also have purpose. He did not like
what this female brought to him. He was not accustomed to
protecting anything but his own skin. It was a disorienting new
reality.

Constantine could not protest it anymore. He'd
used his body to shield the female when he had but moments before
declared that he was a user of their tantalizing flesh and no
more.

As it were, he was so much more than the sum of
his parts.

And more Mer than he wished to be.

*

Constantine roamed his new quarters, which even
included a bathing area. It looked organic, primitive. The shower
itself had a wall of the strange quartz material, the rough-hewn
floor was of the same material, but tumbled not polished.