Mortal Scream (Harbingers of Death Book 1)

by LeAnn Mason

  Then I remembered.

  Nothing is ever free.

  I was pretty sure my dad didn’t invent that lesson either, but it became one of his most repeated after mom…

  “What do you want?”

  The southern belle answered. “Brenna says you’re being let in on the secret.”

  “Brenna?” I asked, and the blonde poked Raven in the stomach, which was not appreciated if the demon’s retaliatory teeth snap was anything to go by.

  I blinked. “I thought you were Raven.”

  Jessica giggled. “Right as rain, Grey. She’s one of those too.”

  What the fuck?

  “Show and tell, right? That’s what Cole said?” Ember asked, cocking her head at me in a manner similar to a bird. Similar to Raven…

  “You’re working with Cole?”

  “We’re a team,” Raven confirmed.

  Anything can be a weapon.

  I reminded myself of the lesson as a way to remain calm and focused.

  I was neither, however.

  And I had no weapon.

  My back pressed into the shower knob, and I debated twisting it off the wall. Or twisting the towel to use as a whip, though that really only ever happened in men’s locker rooms… on television.

  “A team in what?” My lips curled. “Intimidating people? Is that how you get off? What did I ever do to you?”

  Raven’s brows rose. “Besides get me hit with a rock?”

  I flushed, but that wasn’t worth this kind of retaliation, was it? And how did they get a guard on their side? Sexual favors?

  Ember stepped forward. “We’re not trying to intimidate you. We’re trying to help you understand.”

  Crowding me into the corner of a shower once it was deserted sure seemed like intimidation. “Oh, I understand,” I said. I understood that they were all crazy.

  Ember shook her head sadly, an oddly sage expression on her pixie face. “No. You don’t. But you will. Just… watch. And then we can explain. It’s best if you see first. Raven?”

  Jessica lifted a hand. “I got this.” Ember didn’t object though she said something unspoken to Raven with her eyes. Jessica’s head tilted as she looked me up and down. Unlike before, there was no lust in this perusal, just confusion. “I still don’t see what Seke sees.”

  Seke? They knew Seke too?

  I knew his dangling carrot of freedom was too good to be true.

  “But if you insist he gave you orders…”

  Raven replied as she removed her shoes and began to shuck off her shirt. “I do.” When she went for her pants, I snapped my attention away, staring into Jessica’s mirth-filled expression.

  What were they doing? I pulled the towel tighter, helplessness creeping up my spine and making me irate. My spine snapped straight, eyes alighting on the vixen invading my space.

  “Let me go.” My words had no punch. What could I say? Or else I’d call for help?

  The appearance of authority figures can be an advantage. Make sure you’re not doing anything that would implicate yourself and let them send your enemy fleeing faster than you can.

  I’d learned that wasn’t so true in the alley. And in here? I didn’t know if more guards besides Cole were fraternizing with the trio.

  “Well,” Jessica purred, stepping close and leaning her head toward me. Her finger slid down my temple, toyed with a wet strand of gray hair, and slithered toward the center of my chest where my towel stopped, her eyes tracing the digit’s bold path.

  I couldn’t back up any further, but my hand curled, ready to punch.

  “Jess,” Ember warned. “We’re just showing her the truth. Not trying to scare her.”

  Not trying to scare me? They had me cornered! They were cavorting with the guards… and lawyers. If that guy really was a lawyer. But he’d seemed so sincere… That hurt the most.

  “Little ol’ me? Scare her? I’m just lettin’ her face the music.” And she smiled wide, red lips splitting to reveal rows of sharp fangs not unlike a shark’s. Her voice was melodic and enrapturing, caressing my ears as she sang in a beautiful voice that echoed around the empty locker room. “The song of the supernatural.”

  A large raven landed on her shoulder, the flapping of wings sending the drying wisps of my hair across my face.

  I did what I was best at: I screamed.

  14

  Fluttering my eyes to adjust to the blinding fluorescence radiating above my head, I turned my face away.

  “There’s our nutty banshee,” Cole sneered from his perch next to me where he’d apparently been waiting.

  Waiting for what?

  And it all flooded back. The eyes, the teeth… the feathers! And then the screaming. Lots of that, causing the trio of supernatural not-supposed-to-exist creatures to revert to their human façades and rush me back to their teammate, Asshat Cole, for another round of “bitch be crazy.”

  I’d gotten a shot immediately upon entry to the infirmary this time. A sedative to calm my nerves, they’d said, but really, it was probably to keep me from running my mouth about the truth of nightmares.

  Cole’s dark, swinging tresses invading my vision reminded me of his presence, his face looming near mine.

  I tried pushing myself further away from the menace who was hell-bent on proving to the powers that be that I was crazy and needed tending. I couldn’t though. My limbs were once again secured to the bed’s railing.

  Fuck.

  I’d thought my mind would take longer to leave me, that I’d have to endure several years of a slow spiral into acceptance. Maybe I could bypass all of that and just jump right into senility. Might be a blessing.

  “You ready to hear what I have to say, cupcake?”

  I flinched at the rough tone, the inferred topic. I couldn’t help it.

  “Where’s the doc? I bet he’s anxious to hear what I have to say,” I sidestepped. It wasn’t really a threat. I mean, I would only confirm that I needed to be on psychiatric meds… at the least. But the idea of talking about what I’d seen turned my stomach to knots.

  “It’s just you and me in this neck of the woods. No need to call on the doc just yet. So, you going to let me talk this time?”

  “Do I have a choice?”

  His answering smile was feral, reminding me of my hallucinations. He’d turned into a gigantic black dog with bright red eyes… in my obviously disturbed and broken mind. “Listen, you have two choices. One: you can open your damn mortal-driven mind and listen—see what we can offer you. Or two: you can tell us to fuck off, and you can rot in this hellhole for the next decade. Up to you, Cupcake.”

  Well, when he put it that way…

  Narrowing my eyes, completely ready to scoff at whatever wisdom he was planning to drop on me, I decided it couldn’t hurt to listen. “Go on.”

  His mouth opened, closed, opened again. He looked at a loss. It softened his features. His mouth didn’t look so thin. There was less severity to his cheekbones and chin. His bushy eyebrows actually had a lot of character, conveying more feeling than any other feature on his face. He leaned forward, massive body bent at the waist, arms supporting his weight across thick legs. The guy was a tank, solid muscle, but still agile—much more so than his size would suggest. Maybe it was his… canine side?

  “Let me just start by saying you’re not crazy,” he finally segued.

  I stopped my perusal to catch his eye, seeking proof that he wasn’t messing with me. That was the least animosity his tone had held for me yet. Maybe this would be good for me. Maybe they would accept me. I mean my crazy wasn’t any crazier than theirs, right? Like finds like and all that, especially in a place like this…

  “The supernatural creatures that humans write stories about exist. Almost all of them, though maybe not in the exact way they’re portrayed. Anyway, when I… shifted, I showed you my harbinger form. I’m what’s known as a hellhound, or a black dog, in other mythology. An omen of death.”

  “A hellhound?” I deadpanned. W
as he telling me I was going to die? Threat or fact, like my vision about Michaels?

  He nodded sincerely. Eyes still bright and open, not narrowed in contempt as they usually were when he looked my way. It was almost more unnerving than the thought of him actually turning into a giant dog. I wasn’t prepared for a vulnerable Cole.

  I bit. “I don’t know of any supernatural creature with shark teeth,” I returned, my tone maybe a little sharp.

  My nose itched, and I wriggled again, only to be reminded that my limbs were useless. Maybe… “Could you please release me? I hate the restraints, makes me feel like I really am crazy.” I shook a cuffed wrist for emphasis.

  Cole sat back in the chair, flipping his long, corded hair away from his face with the move. He looked at ease as if in consideration. I watched him watching me until he made a decision. Fluidly, he rose from the plastic chair he’d dwarfed and moved to my left leg, deftly undoing the padded cuff from around my ankle before moving to the right.

  The moment my legs were free, I pulled my knees in, hearing the joints popping audibly with the movement. “Ah, man. Guess I’ve been here a while,” I remarked, noting the ache in my limbs as they began to tingle with renewed circulation.

  After another few swift moves, I was officially untethered. The moment the first hand was freed, it flew to scratch at the itch assailing my poor nose. Begrudgingly, I thanked him as I moved to rub at my newly freed wrists, an attempt to get the tingling to subside a little quicker if not to avoid moving forward with the conversation.

  After another moment where Cole apparently decided to wait for me to speak, a consideration I had not thought him capable of, I leapt in. “So… you can actually turn into a dog, and Raven… well, into a raven?” He nodded in confirmation but said nothing. “I still don’t know what the hell kind of being has teeth like a shark.” That tidbit definitely didn’t ring any bells with stories I’d heard. “She’s not a vampire, is she? I mean, they only need a pair of teeth to make a pair of little holes so they can suck at the vein… according to the stories. Are they real? Is that true?” I couldn’t remember if Jessica avoided garlic in the cafeteria.

  Cole’s open expression pinched the more I rambled until his eyebrows were back into their usual downturned caterpillars of disapproval. “It’s not really like in the movies, Cupcake. And, to answer your question, Jess is a siren.”

  That didn’t sound right.

  “I thought myths portrayed sirens as beautiful mermaids who lured sailors to their deaths? Now, don’t get me wrong, Jessica is a freaking knock-out, but there are definitely no sailors around here. And I saw no tail.”

  “Don’t trust everything you read. Why would it be limited to such a select group? Nah, it’s how they lure any prey. Man, woman, whatever. On land or sea. No tails. They aren’t picky, and you most definitely do not want one taking a shine to you,” Cole advised before a look of knowing came over his features. The corners of his eyes crinkled, one side of his full mouth hitching up in an evil smirk. “She was drawn to you, wasn’t she?”

  Couldn’t pull the wool over this dog’s eyes. “Good thing she didn’t take a bite, then.” I played it off like the thought of becoming siren chow didn’t give me the heebie-jeebies even with those rows of pointy chompers. “What about Ember? Or Seke?” He had to be in the group. I wouldn’t allow for that many coincidences of weirdness. “Wait…” He couldn’t really be…?

  Could he?

  “I think you know the answer about Seker. After all, you brought it up when you met. Dogs have good hearing,” he explained when my brow furrowed. I didn’t want him knowing the dirty jokes I made to a...

  “You’re not seriously telling me that the man I met, who claimed to be my lawyer, is in fact an Egyptian god? An ancient Egyptian god?”

  Cole’s whiskey eyes didn’t waver. His posture didn’t shift. Nothing indicated he was fucking with me, but surely, he was… Right?

  “Listen, we won’t have a whole lot of time for you to process and accept. If you’re over your default banshee reaction, we need to get out of here before they really do come to investigate and wrap you in a straitjacket. The girls can fill you in on the rest.” He stood and waited.

  “Banshee? Like the Celtic mythical fae creature?” Then it clicked. “Harbingers…”

  “Exactly. Now, let’s get out of here.” Cole steered me by the shoulders when I didn’t move.

  I was too focused on the fact that not only was he telling me that these mythical creatures truly existed and that I knew some of them. No, as if that wasn’t enough, he was telling me that I, too, belonged in that category.

  I was a banshee.

  That explains some things, actually.

  The walk back through the halls was quiet, almost vacant. Anyone we encountered seemed to look through us like we weren’t there. Odd.

  “So, what are you guys doing here? In a prison? Hiding who you are until some unsuspecting convicted murderer stumbled into your midst, like me?” My brain hopped to the repercussions of our newly revealed similarities. “Are we ...cool now, by the way? You and Raven seemed perfectly content to either directly cause my death or idly watch me die earlier. And apparently, Jessica would just plain love to eat me up. Literally.” I leveled the beast with an accusatory look. I wouldn’t be turning besties in a blink, and catching Cole’s unapologetic quirk, I knew they would feel the same.

  “So long as you keep your head down and our secret to yourself. It’s my job to protect the supernatural and my team. At least one of those applies to you now, so we’re good. For now. The girls, Raven anyway, will talk to you later. Right now, do your job.”

  “My job?”

  “Welcome to trash duty, Cupcake. This is Marla. She’ll be your superior… and I’m hers. Behave,” he warned before turning and walking away.

  I stared after the broody guard for a moment, my mind churning. Guess that would be all the life-changing info I got for the time being.

  I turned back to my “superior”.

  “Uh, hello there.” A stunted howdy wave followed my lame greeting. My new mentor’s response was only to grunt before standing, grabbing what looked like a custodial cart, and waving me to follow her with a jerky nod.

  The work was remedial, so I had plenty of time to get lost in my own head. Moving from cell to cell, cleaning wastebaskets and toilets, and restocking toilet paper allowed for ample self-reflection. Definitely a stellar opportunity.

  The revelation that I myself was not human—at least not entirely—dominated my thoughts. The atypical aspects of my upbringing were beginning to make more sense. I’d been missing a piece of the puzzle all of my life. The very piece that explained all the other misshapen ones.

  Little things my parents did, said, or taught me finally had purpose beyond the eccentric and paranoid ramblings I’d seen them for. Why we’d moved around so much, the tactical thinking exercises, the combat training. Maybe it even explained Mom. Had a human found out about her? Besides my dad… if he was human. I mean, banshees were female, right? I got my otherness from her at the least.

  When she was taken, the light went right out of my father. Any semblance of family we’d built up over the years crumbled in a heap. He’d been lost, angry. The somewhat comfortable nomadic lifestyle we’d adopted to that point became a frantic search as my father tried—and failed—to find her. For years, he tried until he, too, never returned, leaving me a lonely, maladjusted teen with no home, no family, and no hope—lost and alone.

  I’d had no idea who my parents really were—who I was. How could they have kept something like that from me? How could they ever have thought I didn’t—wouldn’t—need to know that I was a fucking harbinger of death whose specialty was to literally scream myself stupid—or caught?

  Why teach me what they did and not tell me why?

  I pushed searching fingers to my lower belly, to the spot where my tattoo was inked. I had no idea what the symbol meant, but I’d always wondered why my parents, well
any parent, would force some unknown and unwanted ink on a child. That’s what I’d been—a child. Eleven to be exact. Maybe it meant something to one of the four supernatural creatures I’d met in the last week... in a prison of all places.

  If my parents could only see me now, I lamented with a sardonic chuckle as I bent to retrieve yet another sloppily full basket from some random cell as Marla did the same next door.

  Wait. What if these creatures were the reason I’d been trained as I was? Could my parents have avoided speaking of or intermingling with other supernaturals for a reason? What if these new revelations are what got my parents killed?

  What if trusting these people got me killed?

  15

  Jessica couldn’t withhold the carnivorous display of teeth that twisted her full lips up in a grotesque semblance of a smile. Aria’s head jerked up when she’d entered the cell and saw the trio waiting for her.

  “Well, look what the cat dragged in. Our debutante returns. Welcome to the supernatural side, sugar.” Jess winked, scanning the newly realized fae. “Looks more like a banshee with the blood drained from her face, bless her heart. C’mon in. I don’t bite. Much.”

  The siren also noted lines of exhaustion and stress crinkling the harbinger’s face as Aria swung to stare at where she perched on the tank of the toilet, toes of one foot balanced on the trash bin rim, the other leg crossed over.

  Draining a little blood sounded truly delectable to Jessica about then, deprived as she was. Their awaited death had better happen real soon, or she might not be able to stop herself from having a taste from someone else.

  “Shell shocked,” Raven agreed, not moving from her recumbent state on the bottom bunk though her eyes were also fixed on Aria.

  Ember weighed in, leaning so far forward she nearly fell off the top bunk. “Maybe she’s afraid of dogs.” Aria didn’t look pleased when she noticed Ember’s location. The phoenix tended to gravitate toward high perches.