Sing Me to Sleep (The Lost Shards Book 3)

by Anna Argent

  “What the hell is wrong with me?” she asked, her voice muffled against his shirt. “Why do I keep touching you?”

  His hands cupped her shoulders, holding her in place, as if he liked her there, too. “Feels pretty damn right to me.”

  “This is just the shards talking, right? They have their own agenda.”

  “Maybe. But who’s to say it isn’t a good one? I’m willing to go along for the ride for a while and find out. You?”

  She lifted her head to look into his eyes. They were dark pools of shadows under his heavy brow, but light still glinted there, mesmerizing her. The lines of his face drew her in and held on tight. He was more than merely handsome, though he was that. There was power in the set of his jaw, magic in the curve of his mouth. All she could think about was how his lips would feel against hers if she kissed him.

  His fingers flexed on her shoulders, pulling her forward the scant few inches that separated them. As soon as she was pressed fully against the hard ridges of his chest, she knew it had been a mistake to get this close.

  Just like that, her Volvo wasn’t the only place that felt like home.

  “You’re casting some kind of dark magic on me, aren’t you?” she asked.

  “I was thinking the same thing about you. If not for Eden giving you the all-clear, I’d be questioning everything I feel right now.”

  “And what’s that?” she asked before she could stop herself.

  He shook his head. “Hell, no. I’m not giving you that kind of ammunition. You’ve got enough already.”

  Stygian slid his hands up her arms and cupped her jaw, tilting her head up. His gaze was fixed on her mouth, and she realized that she was seconds away from knowing what it was like to kiss a man as potent and powerful as he was.

  But before he could finish closing the distance, something changed. His body went tense, and his head snapped up to scan the darkness behind her. A split second later, he shoved her behind him and pulled a gun from the back of his waistband.

  “Something’s coming. Run!”

  Chapter Seven

  Stygian saw the creature leap out of the shadows a split second before it happened.

  It vaguely resembled a rat, but was a hundred times bigger. Covered in mousy brown fur and sickly pink scars, its eyes were a deep, blood-red. Sharp teeth lined its mouth, and there were bonelike spikes where whiskers should have been. Its flesh was ragged, like it had split open over and over again, healing badly.

  He had no idea what this thing was, but the stink of dark Vires magic was all over it.

  He lifted his Glock and fired, but his hands were still shaking from being on Echo’s sweet body.

  His shot was an inch too high and sailed past the creature into the nearby pavement.

  Whatever the thing was, it was fast. Its sharp claws dug into the ground, giving it plenty of traction and lots of power.

  “The rat man. He found me.” Echo said from behind him, her sweet voice pitched high with fear.

  “I told you to run.”

  There was no more time to argue. The creature was close enough to pounce. It launched itself into the air, sailing right toward Stygian’s chest.

  He steadied his aim and fired again.

  This time his shot was clean, and it hit just left of center mass. The thing spun midair before landing in a tumbling roll. It squealed in pain and snapped its teeth as if it could bite what had hurt it.

  There wasn’t any blood. His bullet had hit it, but it hadn’t punctured the tough hide.

  Marvel had created magical, non-lethal rounds that helped keep men like him from killing the bad guys instead of capturing them. They were designed to incapacitate, not kill. The downside was they lacked the same power of a lethal round. In this case, they didn’t even have the power to punch through the rat’s thick skin.

  It was more cautious now, studying them as if looking for an opening.

  “They’re impossible to kill,” Echo said. “We have to run.”

  “You first. I’ll keep its attention.”

  “I’m not leaving without you. I’m supposed to save you, remember?”

  She stayed a few feet to his right, completely ignoring his order to run.

  Before he could answer, the rat-thing charged again. Only this time, its target was Echo.

  She backed up. Her heel caught on a curb, and she tumbled backward.

  Stygian saw it happen an instant before it did, but he was too far away to stop her from falling.

  She landed on her ass and let out a whimper of fear. Even in her terror, her voice was musical and sweet. For a second, the tension riding his limbs faded and he relaxed, almost forgetting that he was in the middle of a dire situation.

  The creature saw her fall. Its blood-red eyes lit up with excitement as it saw its prone target, then it shot forward with an unnatural burst of speed.

  “Stay back!” Echo shouted, her voice ringing out like church bells, loud and clear.

  The rat-thing staggered for a second as if it had hit an invisible wall, but then shook it off. As soon as it did, its beady eyes fixed on her and it bared its sharp teeth in a snarl.

  Stygian stepped into the path of the oncoming attack and fired.

  Over and over again he hit the monster, but all it did was slow it down and shove it back a few feet. As soon as it regained its footing, it came right back at them, snarling and pissed at the sting.

  He was almost out of ammo. Usually an entire magazine was more than enough to get the job done. Clearly this time was different.

  He had only two rounds left, and the thing wasn’t going down without a better shot.

  Its eyes were small and beady—barely a target at all. Still, they were a soft entrance into the creature’s brain.

  He leveled his Glock, steadied his aim and fired.

  The round bounced off the boney whiskers, not even slowing the rat’s charge.

  One shot left.

  Stygian held his ground and tuned inward to the shards that inhabited him. Their souls were old and steeped in power. He didn’t like calling on them, but he had no choice. If he didn’t kill the creature, both he and Echo were rat food.

  His shards vibrated in his core, responding to his summons. Sweet, ancient power flowed through his limbs and sharpened his sight. His hands were rock steady around the butt of the gun. His target was clear and bright. The small blood-red eyes no longer seemed impossible to hit.

  He saw himself miss a second before he fired, corrected his aim and pulled the trigger. His aim was true this time, and the bullet slipped right through the grotesque rat’s eye and into its brain. It collapsed as it ran, coming to a clumsy, tumbling halt. Its legs twitched twice and then it went still.

  Echo stepped forward. He grabbed her arm to stop her from getting any closer to the creature.

  “Stay back. It may not be dead.”

  He felt a shudder of revulsion ripple through her arm. “I’ve never seen one dead before. I wasn’t even sure it was possible to kill them.”

  The idea that she’d faced something like this alone bothered the hell out of him. If she didn’t know it could die, then she hadn’t killed it. If she hadn’t killed it, he had no idea how she’d seen one of these things and escaped with her life.

  No way was he letting her face this kind of thing on her own again. Whoever—whatever—had sent this monster to attack her was going down.

  His shards cheered in agreement.

  He scanned the area, searching for signs of Vires. At least one of them had to have sent this thing after her. “Was this your rat man’s work?”

  The area was empty. There were two other business nearby, but they were closed at night. Beyond that was a pecan orchard, and cattle grazing in a wide-open pasture. No one would have heard his shots.

  He hoped.

  Echo’s sweet voice vibrated with fear. “He makes these creatures, but I don’t know how.”

  “Dark, twisted magic.”

  If the man was here
, there was no sign of him.

  Stygian took her hand. “We’re too exposed out here. Let’s get inside.”

  As he turned to escort her back to Asgard, he heard a car engine start. A few seconds later, a white van pulled out from behind one of the neighboring building’s fenced-in recycling area. It was painted with a logo for Harney Pest Control, which included a giant cartoon rat dead on its back with Xs for eyes and its tongue hanging out.

  Stygian hadn’t been able to see the van in its hiding place, but there was no question that whoever drove the van was Echo’s rat man.

  He’d intended to kill her tonight.

  There were no coincidences in their world. The shards were all too connected and too powerful for him to believe in something so flimsy as happenstance.

  The glare from the street lights cleared from the passenger window of the van for an instant, allowing Stygian to see inside.

  The rat man had dark red hair, cut military short. Even from fifty yards away, Stygian could see the man’s beady, blue eyes looking back at him. He was almost pretty, with a delicate nose and full mouth. The only thing marring the look was a burn scar bisecting one high cheekbone. As Stygian watched, the rat man smiled and saluted.

  Stygian saw his mouth move, but he couldn’t read lips well enough to understand what he’d said. The threat, however, was still clear. Whoever this guy was, he wasn’t done toying with them.

  There were no cars around, so Stygian darted toward the van on foot. He was out of ammo, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t kill. Bare hands worked just fine. Sometimes even better than a gun. Definitely more satisfying.

  He raced after the van, but it sped up, spitting out grit behind it. Before it had reached the corner, the gap between them had widened.

  “What are you doing?” Echo shouted. “Stop!”

  There was power in that command—the kind of power that had Stygian skidding to a halt.

  His body trembled with the need to keep pursuing his prey, but his feet stayed planted.

  He heard footsteps behind him. “What the hell were you thinking?” she asked.

  He turned around to face her. “I was thinking about eliminating the threat to your life.”

  “Well, don’t. The rat man is my problem, not yours.”

  “He’s one of the Vires. That makes him my problem too.”

  Her pale teal gaze slid across his face, studying him. Her cheeks were flushed, her mouth a dark pink, her lips parted around her heavy breathing.

  She could have been killed. That thought made him shake with rage.

  Was it because she was supposed to save his soul, or because he cared about her?

  He’d seen a lot of innocents die since his childhood. His grandfather had forced him to face death, to look it in the eye and call it by name. There were no hugs given after losing a loved one, no comfort offered. Death and suffering were part of life.

  Why then, in the face of almost losing Echo, was he trembling?

  We need her.

  His shards. Of course. Everything in his life revolved around those fragmented souls.

  Even with that easy answer in his mind, there was a little whisper of something else—something entirely his own. It shivered with fear, with hope. And as he looked down into Echo’s beautiful face, it swelled and grew.

  She was important, and not just because of the shards they shared. There was something more between them, and until he figured out what it was, he wasn’t going to let her slip away.

  “Come on,” he said. “Let’s get you back inside. You promised Harold coffee, and if there’s one thing I’ve learned, it’s to not anger the man translating the prophecy that might save my soul.”

  ***

  Echo was shaken. She wasn’t the clingy sort, but if not for her death grip on Stygian’s arm, she was sure she wouldn’t have made it all the way back inside Asgard Industries without falling over.

  She’d seen a lot of incredible things living on the streets, but she’d never seen anything half as amazing as the way Stygian killed that monster then raced after the rat man like he was going to tear him apart with his bare hands.

  She didn’t even think the giant rats could die. She’d fought them herself before, using guns and even a bear trap. Every time they’d shrugged off the damage as if she’d merely sneezed on them.

  Stygian, however, had killed one of them. Dead. One bullet through the eye.

  Why hadn’t she thought of that?

  Then again, even if she had, there was no way she could have stood as solid and unwavering as he had, letting it charge while he took aim.

  As she watched, the dead monster had shrunken, its bony protrusions melting until they were simple whiskers. All that was left was a normal rat with a few scars and a very large bullet hole through one eye.

  Even now, after seeing Stygian fight it off, she had no idea how she would ever replicate his act of bravery and marksmanship.

  “What the hell does he want from me?” she asked Stygian, because she couldn’t figure it out on her own.

  He gave her a strange look. “He wants you dead. I thought that much was obvious.”

  “But why?”

  “He must want your shards. Maybe you share pieces of the same soul and the voices are driving him to kill you and absorb your shards.”

  She shuddered again. “But Eden said I only have one bad guy in me. Would he want my good shards if he’s such a bad guy?”

  “Who knows?” Stygian said. “Maybe he’s getting mixed signals. Maybe his good shards need yours to keep the bad ones caged. I have no idea, but it’s clear he’s on a mission to take what you have.”

  “I’d give them to him if I could.”

  “It doesn’t work that way. Unfortunately.”

  Several people met them as they pushed through the doors leading to the main hall. Argo was there, without Eden, as well as a tall, black-haired man with amber eyes and a dark olive complexion. He had a deep widow’s peak that made his serious frown even sterner.

  “We heard gunfire. What the hell happened?” he asked.

  “We’re fine, Garrick.” Stygian pulled Echo close as he addressed the tall man.

  Echo didn’t know if the possessive grip was some kind of male territory marker, or if he was worried she’d run off again now that the rat man was gone.

  “That doesn’t answer my question,” Garrick said. “And who is she?”

  “I’m Echo.”

  He gave her a brief glance before dismissing her. He looked at Stygian. “Who is she?”

  “She found some prophecy and brought it to us. The librarian has it now.”

  “Found it?” Garrick’s dark brows rose in disbelief. “Where?”

  “A thrift shop in Arkansas,” she said.

  “How?” he demanded.

  She shrugged. “I was there to buy new jeans and saw it tucked in a book. Thought it looked important.”

  She didn’t say that the thing had hummed so loudly she kept asking the store clerks what the noise was. They’d all looked at her like she was off her meds. That’s when she knew that the noise was only in her head.

  Melody had that affliction, too. Mom had thought she was nuts until she’d find something at a flea market or garage sale or in the bottom of a dumpster that she knew was important—something that sang to her.

  The way that bit of paper had sung to Echo.

  “Why the gunfire?” Argo asked.

  “That was me. Apparently, the Vires know where we are now—at least one of them does.”

  Echo noticed that he didn’t say it was because she’d drawn the rat man here. She didn’t know if he was protecting her or if he actually believed it wasn’t her fault.

  Garrick stared at Echo now, glowering like she was to blame. “And you think it’s a coincidence that we’ve been here for months without being discovered and then a new girl shows up and the Vires have found us that same night?”

  Echo really didn’t like where this was going. She’d
seen people go from fine to ferocious in a matter of seconds, and all of the worst brawls started out just like this, with one person accusing someone else of something bad.

  She held up her hands. Pushing away Stygian was harder than she wanted to admit, but she’d dwell on that later. Right now, her only goal was to get out of here before shit went down. Survive, just like Mom had taught her. “Listen, I was only trying to help. If you don’t want the prophecy, then burn it. I really don’t care. And if you want me gone, I’ll leave. That’s exactly what I was trying to do when that…thing showed up.”

  “What thing?” Eden asked, finally showing up to the party.

  Argo glared at her like she was a toddler up past bedtime.

  “It looked like a zombie rat, only a lot bigger and meaner,” Echo said.

  Stygian gave Garrick a level stare. “This isn’t Echo’s doing.”

  “True story,” Eden said. “I checked her out and she’s clean. One little sliver of a bad guy, but way less than any of the rest of you carry around.”

  “That doesn’t mean she’s a good person,” Garrick said. “It only means that her shards are mostly good. She could be a deranged psychopath, shards or not.”

  “She’s not,” Stygian said.

  “No way to prove it,” Argo muttered.

  “I don’t need proof,” Stygian said. “I have good instincts.”

  “We’re going to risk the safety of everyone under this roof on your instincts?” Garrick asked.

  This whole conversation was going downhill fast, and Echo didn’t know these people well enough to predict how it would end. After a few more seconds of people talking over one another, she’d had as much stress as she could take.

  She summoned a ripple of power from a place she couldn’t name and slid it into her voice. Her words splashed out, bouncing off of the walls and back again, hitting everyone present with her command. “Stop fighting!”

  The group fell silent. Every gaze turned toward her, some with surprise, others with speculation, and others with suspicion.

  In a normal tone, she said, “I’m not worth fighting over. You all clearly have a group dynamic going here. I have no intention of crashing the party, so you can just calm down.” They continued to stay silent, so she went on. “The rat man has been following me for a long time. I’m sorry he found me here, but other than that little bit of baggage trailing behind me, I’m not a threat. When I leave, he’ll keep following me and be no problem for you, so I’m leaving.”