“Why did you really come back?”
Now he faces me. He looks so conflicted.
“I don’t usually leave a city until all the vampires are dead. Leaving them all to you was eating me alive. How many have you killed since I left?”
I say nothing.
“You’re a miserable, lousy vampire hunter, you know that?” He frowns. “Where’s your badge?”
During the fight, my coat zipper broke, and he can clearly see I’m not wearing my badge at my hip.
My silence speaks for me.
“Going rogue might be the best thing for you,” he says softly.
“I know you want a partner, but really, I’m not up for it.”
“Isolation is a curse, Clarissa. I know that more than anyone.”
The pain, the sorrow, the guilt in his eyes… he’s lost someone. That’s why he’s so hardened.
“You willing to help me with the singers?” I ask.
“Nope. I’m a vampire hunter. I have vampires to hunt.”
“Beware the ones with—”
“Unlike you, I can handle myself,” he says cockily.
He starts to walk away.
“Watch your back, Blake,” I call.
The vamp hunter faces me, gives me a salute, and stalks off.
Follow the silence, he said. The bustle and hustle of the city sound in my ears. I glance at my car but ignore it. Cars make noise by themselves.
So, I take off on foot, walking away from the busy city. Slowly, the sounds of cars, children playing in the snow, and mothers yelling fade away. Nature noises take over. The more I walk, the less I hear.
Gradually, I come to a line of trees. The moment I cross it, I swear I’m in a vacuum. I hear nothing. Not even my own foggy breathing.
I step back. Hearing returns with a rush. My heartbeat. My sucking down air from walking for so long in the cold. The scampering of some kind of small creature nearby.
Once more, I cross over. Silence prevails, making me feel like I’ve entered some kind of twilight zone.
Or wardrobe or hole.
“If I see a lamppost or a rabbit with a pocket watch, I’m out of here.”
The quiet is eerie, frightening even. I didn’t even hear my words. It’s like they got swept away into the void. Wherever I am, it’s not Bethlehem. It’s a void of white. I can’t tell if I’m walking on snow or something else.
Up ahead, I see a glass coffin.
Inside is Selena.
I stroll right up to her and consider knocking on the glass.
Instead, I whip out my notepad and a pen. Being a detective, or because I had been a detective, I always have a notepad on me.
Quickly, I write that her sister and I had a chat and want to see her tomorrow at midnight at South Mountain Park.
I’m all the way back to the trees that bring me back to the real world when I hesitate. Damn it. I need to make sure that she wakes up and reads the note.
“Selena,” I whisper.
This word, and this word alone, shatters the silence.
The lid to the glass coffin rises.
I hesitate.
Selena reaches for the letter. She glances over at me and nods.
I nod back, heart racing with fear and worry.
Before she can say anything, I bolt out of there.
I’ve done it. The meeting is set up.
Step one down.
<<<>>>
For step two, I need my weapon. I wait until I’m stuck in traffic from a car accident from the snow to call the lieutenant.
“Any progress on that axe?” I ask.
“It’s not like I can just call up someone and order it,” he grumbles.
“I need it!”
“A regular axe won’t do? Why do you even need an axe in the first place?”
“Trust me. You don’t want to know.”
“I’m sure,” he grumbles. “We got all the bombs, by the way. All six hundred and sixty-six of them. We had help finding them.”
“Yeah, I called in reinforcements.” I hesitate. “They didn’t give you a hard time or anything, did they?”
“You run in strange circles.”
“You can say that again.” I grin.
“I’ll get you your axe somehow.” He hangs up.
I drive home. I don’t sleep. I can’t eat. It feels too much like it might be my last meal. I just lay awake until I can’t handle it anymore.
Once again, I go and visit my parents’ graves. I say nothing. Words at this point feel almost like they can betrayal me.
I’m isolated. All alone. Frightened. Terrified. Worried. Anxious. A thousand different emotions. Less than twelve hours until it all goes down. For better or for worse.
No goodbyes this time. I’ve been avoiding everyone anyhow. No Samantha, no Dean, no Diego, Travis, Marlon, Rex, or all the rest. Just me, Amarok, and the siren sisters.
It’s gonna be Hell.
I have no idea how accurate that statement will be.
Chapter 36
The lieutenant comes through in the clutch. He doesn’t say how he got it or how much it cost, but I have an axe strapped to my leg. My trench coat conceals it.
I’m ten minutes early for the meeting, but I can’t wait any longer.
“Selena? Lorelei? Anyone here?” I call.
No answer. It’s quiet here but not the deathly silence in Selena’s realm or whatever it was. That place gave me a real otherworldly feel that I did not care for.
“My sister isn’t here,” Lorelei snips.
“Someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed,” I mutter.
She flips her hair back. “You failed me.”
I look at my watch. “We have another two minutes.”
“Technicalities will not serve you,” she declares darkly.
Her eyes flash. She’s furious, fury visibly rising within her.
Man, she looks pissed enough to kill me.
I swallow a lump of fear and dread. If this backfires on me, I really am going to be the one to end up dead.
“Why don’t you sing to her?” I suggest.
“Don’t you think I would have if that were all it takes? A siren can’t call another. We can’t control each other.”
“Of course not,” I say quickly. “I didn’t mean to control her. I just meant something like, ‘hey, sis, let’s chat.’ Nothing major.”
“We haven’t spoken since…”
“Since Selena killed you sister?” I ask.
“Is that what she told you to get you to side with her?” Selena calls from behind me.
For once, her voice sounds a little flat. She’s even angrier than her sister.
“You tell her the truth!” Selena shouts. “You killed her!”
“I meant to kill you!” Lorelei’s never looked more powerful, terrifying, or fierce.
I back up, but the angle Selena approaches from forces me to remain between them. Not again.
“He never loved you,” Selena taunts.
“He sounds like trash,” I remark, finally slipping out from between them.
Both sirens glare at me.
“You know, like he needs to be kicked to the curb? What was he doing? Playing you all? He’s the evil one if you ask me.”
“No one’s asking you,” Lorelei hisses.
I shrug. It was worth a shot.
Indifferently, I fake a stretch and check out the time on my clock.
It’s after midnight.
And Amarok is nowhere in sight.
The sirens are back to shouting at each other, hurling insults. Any second and they’re going to slap each other or pull hair. Total girl fight.
But no. Sirens don’t fight fair.
I’m not sure which one starts the singing first, and there aren’t any words. It’s just a haunting, mesmerizing melody that leaves me shocked and awed. I can feel the power in it.
They aren’t fighting with fists or any other weapon.
Only their voices.
Lorelei turns toward me, still singing without words. A gust of air from her mouth pushes me backward. I end up face-planting in the snow.
I don’t even get a chance to use the axe. The singing reaches a fever pitch. The song reaches such a high note that I can’t hear anything.
And then the two disappear. They’re gone. Just like that.
Soft footsteps whisper on the snow. Amarok holds out a hand.
I ignore his offer and stand up angrily. “What the Hell took you so long to get here?” I demand.
My hands are clenched in fists of rage. I’m ready to use the axe on him even though I know it won’t kill him.
“I was detained,” he says indifferently.
“Well, isn’t that just fine and dandy?” Hands on hips, I fight the urge to rip into him. “What are we going to do now?”
“I don’t know.”
“Listen, Amarok, if you don’t help me kill them, no good word gets said. Understood?”
“I am not an imbecile. I know how our deal works. I will handle the sirens.”
“Yeah?” I tap my foot. “When? How?”
“Leave the details to me. I will let you know if I acquire your assistance.”
“Uh, how about no. I demand to be there and witness their deaths.”
“Murders,” he corrects.
I gape at him. “I’m sure they will give you a fight.”
“Not with what I have planned.” He grins wolfishly.
I shudder with revulsion. He’s revolting, and I’m sure I’ll disapprove of whatever he has in store for them.
Yeah, I know I don’t mind what I do to get results. The ends justify the means and all that. But his means? That’s a whole other story. I will never cross the line. Tiptoe along it, yes, but never cross it. Never.
“Regardless, I will be there Understood?”
“Yes. So be it. You will be there.”
“How are you gonna let me know when you want to kill them?” I ask.
“Oh, you’ll hear me.”
I shake my head. “Fine. Just don’t claim that you forgot.”
“Yes, yes.”
“So, are you going to sniff them out?” I ask hopefully, eager to get a move on.
Before he can respond, a huge explosion rockets downtown. I can see the smoke from here. It might be my imagination that I can smell the fire.
I hightail it to my car. Every few seconds, more bombs go off. I don’t understand. How is this happening? We got all the bombs!
Ringing fills my ears. At first, I think it’s because of the bombs going off one after the other. But then I hear something soft in between for just a moment.
The sirens. They’re singing.
An accident happens right in front of me. I slam on the brakes and get out of the car to help them. Too late. The driver of the car directly in front of me is dead. Car versus truck. Never a good thing.
I close my eyes and try to imagine a happier moment because right now, I’m close to breaking.
From the corner of my eye, I see a woman in her house. Her curtains are pulled to the side. For whatever reason, I’m confused but curious, and I go over.
She goes into her kitchen and comes back with something that looks suspiciously like dynamite. How in the world did she get her hands on that?
The woman tilts her head to the side as if listening to something.
I bang on the window, screaming for her to stop, but she doesn’t listen, at least not to me.
She lights the dynamite.
There’s a big explosion.
Worse, she must’ve had more dynamite within her house because there’s another explosion and another, along down the row of houses.
Now, my ears are both ringing and bleeding.
I stagger back over to my car. The truck driver already gave me his information, but he can’t drive away. There’s an accident farther up the road.
The silence of the sirens has proved deadly, but their singing is even worse. So much destruction, devastation, and mayhem. It’s terrible.
I’m not far from the hospital. I’m sure Dean doesn’t want to see me now, but since it’s closer than the police station, I hike my way over.
The emergency department is overflowing. Hours have passed already. I’m not even sure how. The slow traffic, the explosions, the chaos… I swear time is speeding up.
Speeding up and our time is running out.
Speeding up and winding down the clocks of our lives.
It takes some time for me to locate someone who is willing to let me help. I end up donating blood around six in the morning. It’s not much, but it’s one way to be helpful. The lieutenant hasn’t called me to help the police in any fashion, and I refuse to be useless.
I’m given a cookie to raise my blood sugar. Not wanting to take up much space, I head to the waiting room to eat it. Once I finish, I figure I’ll leave and try to find the sirens or something else to do that will help.
I’m halfway through my cookie when Dean marches through the door.
Carrying a woman in his arms.
“We need blood here! Antibiotics, antivirals, the works,” he shouts.
A nurse rushes over. “Do you need a gurney or—”
“Just give me a place to put her. I’ll carry her.”
He’s never looked so fierce, so protective, so strong, so in his element.
So hot.
I trail behind them, trying to stay out of the way and be discrete. There aren’t enough rooms because of all of the injuries flooding in. Ambulances have been coming in and out nonstop as fast as they can despite the snow and accidents.
A bomb detonates nearby, close enough that I swear the floor shakes beneath my feet.
Dean jerks, his balance off from the blast. He’s just put the woman down in a wheelchair. The nurse is starting an IV. Maybe of antibiotics. I’m not sure.
When he rights himself, his gaze falls on me.
Swiftly, anger and hatred burn into his eyes.
I gulp. Uh oh.
Dean stalks over to me and grips my arm tight enough to leave a mark. He pushes me to the side where it’s possibly but not really more private.
“What the Hell are you doing here?” he asks.
I grimace. “You’re squeezing right where they took my blood.”
He lets up slightly and then grips lower, my wrist, not holding my hand. “I kept my word. I never told her. Not anything. Not about the vampires or the werewolves.”
His voice is a low, angry hiss, but I glance around. No one seems to be paying us any attention, too wrapped up in their patients or their injuries or their hurt loved ones.
“That’s your sister? What happened?”
“A vampire bit her,” he grounds out. “Because of your ultimatum, she almost paid the ultimate price. She still might. If we can’t figure out for sure what cured the lieutenant, what saved him, she still could die.”
He straightens, staring down at me with contempt and disgust.
My stomach churns. “Dean, I’m so sorry. I never meant—”
“I don’t want to hear it.” He brushes my words, and my feelings, aside. “We’re done. Please leave. We need to help our patients. Anyone non-essential needs to be out of here.”
He clears his throat.
“Anyone who is not injured must leave now. We will update you as soon as we can. Please. Help us help your loved ones.”
There’s grumbling, but his sharp, terrible tone won’t be denied. Everyone in the hallway pushes his or her way through.
Dean turns his back to me. “Go on.”
“I hope—”
“I said I don’t want to hear it.”
His curt, abrupt tone leaves me in tears. It’s for the best, I try to tell myself, a way to keep him safe. I’ve been worried about something like this happening for a while now.
But the time seems off. Why has a vamp attacked? Have others been bitten? Killed? What about t
he wolves? Are they fighting humans? Or vamps?
I leave the hospital and enter a war zone. Bethlehem is burning, devastation everywhere.
My heart in my throat, I push my way back inside the hospital. I climb all the stairs and push through the door to gain roof access.
By now, tears are streaming down my cheeks. Bethlehem is completely on the blink of utter annihilation. I can’t tell through my blurred vision, but I think I see some flashes of fur in the distance. The wolves have entered the fight, and I’m sure vamps have too. Fighting each other and not humans I hope.
The singing of the sirens blends together, merging their melodies, soaring high in a chorus of pain, misery, and anguish.
The sirens are either going to kill each other or else Bethlehem will be the one to end up murdered instead.
Chapter 37
The ringing in my ears grows more and more intensified as I climb back down the stairs within the hospital. The sirens’ singing is actively causing my physical pain. Horrifically, the results on the people within the hospital is just plain terrible and tragic.
They, every one of them, are attacking each other. Punching, kicking, biting, strangling. It’s so terrible that for a moment, I’m paralyzed with indecision.
But then I break up a fistfight between two guys who don’t seem injured. One is Dean. The other has a stethoscope around his neck. I’m not sure if it’s his or if Dean was using his to try to strangle him.
Dean takes a swing at me. I duck before I can tell if his eyes are silver. “You’re a real—”
“A hero?”
I block a blow to my face and punch him in the gut.
He sweeps out his leg to try to trip me, but there are too many people in the room. Plus, the other guy is trying to hit Dean too.
I dance around and kidney-punch the other guy. A low move, I know, but I don’t have time for this. In two seconds, he’s cuffed to a door, so he can’t hurt anyone else.
Dean’s right hook connects with my jaw.
Damn.
“All right. I’ll give you that one but no more,” I warn.
Karate skills, don’t fail me now.
He swings again. I duck and grab his arm, forcing him down. Quicker than lightning, I’m behind him, an arm around his neck. If I can just reach for his wrist and cuff him to this door…
When Sirens Screech (Bedlam in Bethlehem Book 4) Page 18
