Call of the Siren (Demons of the Infernum) (Entangled Edge)

by Rosalie Lario

  His heart clenched with a strange blend of pain and relief when he gazed upon the woman he loved. He lifted a hand to her face and wiped the stream of tears coursing down her cheek.

  As if she’d read his mind, she hoarsely whispered, “He thought about killing me. Mammon did. Thought it would be a good way to finish driving you insane. But in the end, he decided to leave me alive, as penance for my part in having him locked away. He knew it would be the worst form of torture for me to have to live knowing he’d taken my son from me.”

  “I understand,” he murmured. That was just like the bastard. He couldn’t simply punish. No, he wasn’t happy until he’d broken someone’s spirit.

  Her face darkened with rage. “I’m gonna kill him. I’ll kill anyone who even dares to lay a hand on my baby.”

  She would too, no doubt about it.

  He could only pray Aegin would still be alive when they recovered him.

  No.

  His chest tightened in unbearable agony, forcing the breath from his lungs. No, he wouldn’t think about that. It was inconceivable. Aegin would be fine. And this hell they were currently living in would be over. Once and for all.

  …

  When Dagan had woken Lina from a dreamless slumber, she’d initially thought he wanted to make love again. But then she’d noticed how stiff his body was. His swollen eyes. And gods, when she’d heard what he had to say…

  She’d seen some sick, twisted shit in her days, and she knew from hearing the stories just how evil Mammon was. But learning that he’d use his infant grandson as a pawn in whatever cruel, wicked game he and the dark fae were playing…that was beyond disgusting.

  They’re not going to get away with it.

  No child should ever be used in such a way, much less a tiny, defenseless infant. She would do whatever it took to help them get Aegin back. She’d even give her life for such a cause.

  He’s just a baby…even younger than Sara.

  No. No, it wasn’t going to happen. Not while she was still breathing.

  “Let’s go,” she said, hopping off the bed.

  Surprise registered on his face. “Are you sure? You don’t need to rest for a bit?”

  “Dagan.” She tenderly cupped his cheek. “Mammon and Belpheg have Aegin. I know how much you must be hurting right now. How eager to get him back. I feel the same. So let’s go.”

  Relief and gratitude flashed in his expression. “You’re amazing, you know that?”

  She let out a warm, low laugh. “I know. Come on.”

  After redressing in her top and jeans, which she’d washed and laid out to dry after they arrived here, she and Dagan headed to his parked car outside. She slid into the seat, and Dagan closed the door before getting into the driver’s side.

  As they pulled out of the driveway and headed toward the address Taeg had given them, he silently reached over and grasped her hand, holding it tightly within his. The unexpected action and the warm, comforting feel of his hand sparked a shiver of acknowledgment in her spine. They were in this together.

  When a knot of cool, calming energy unwound from her abdomen and spread outward through her pores, she realized with a start that she’d unknowingly activated her angelic calming ability. For the first time since…

  Since Sara died.

  She tensed, but before she could draw her hand away Dagan glanced over at her with a small smile.

  “Thanks,” he murmured, squeezing her fingers briefly. “I really needed that.”

  Lina studied his profile. While he didn’t look happy by any means, he certainly appeared more relaxed. Better able to cope with the news he’d received.

  She readjusted her grip, clasping Dagan’s hand tighter to hers. In the grand scheme of things, this was something little she could do for him. After everything he’d done for her. She wouldn’t begrudge him the opportunity to feel a little better, even if only for a short time.

  Besides, something about their clasped hands just felt so right.

  Turning her head, she gazed out the window. Maybe she and Dagan really were good for each other. She didn’t deserve it…didn’t deserve to be happy after what had happened with Sara…but maybe they could help each other heal.

  …

  Keegan paced the interior of the hotel room he’d rented. He’d picked the first place he found, certainly nothing fancy. There wasn’t even a lobby. The rooms were accessed from the exterior of the building, making it more of a motel than anything else.

  Now that Dagan and Lina had arrived, they’d all convened inside his and Brynn’s room. Taeg and Maya had thrown open the door to the adjoining room they’d rented, but it still felt cramped and crowded.

  Not that it mattered. They wouldn’t be here long.

  “We have to act quickly,” he said. Much as he’d love to take days to plan their offensive, they didn’t have the luxury of time. Every minute Mammon and Belpheg had Aegin was another minute in which they could be…

  No.

  Shaking his head, he forced the errant thought from his mind. Heading down that path would only cause him to lose it once again, and right now, he needed the mental clarity. For the sake of his son, he had to be strong.

  “Belpheg told Lina he wants to drain our powers, to use our life essences to make himself stronger,” Keegan said. “We need to get Aegin without falling into his trap. If he catches us, we’re dead.”

  “I say we storm the fucking place and kill every bastard in sight,” Taeg said hoarsely from his spot on the bed. He hugged Maya tightly to him, clearly taking comfort in her touch, and Maya clutched Brynn’s hand.

  Brynn, his beautiful Brynn…she looked broken. Like a shell of her former self. She needed to hold her son in her arms, to know that he was okay. Keegan was going to make that happen, if it took his dying breath to do so.

  “That’s the plan,” Keegan said in response to Taeg. “But we need to do it in the smartest way possible.”

  Otherwise there was no doubt that one or more of them would die.

  “We still have the sword,” Taeg said. “Provided the fae dick hasn’t found a way to circumvent it, we can use that to rend the shield.”

  “I can make a call to some acquaintances,” Bram said from where he sat on the floor with his back against the wall. His tone was dull and his gaze downcast. He clearly mourned the loss of his friend, and would probably have been inconsolable if not for the low level of calming energy Ronin was pumping into the room. But Bram was here, and he was willing to die to retrieve Aegin, and that meant more to Keegan than he could ever say.

  “Don’t know how much back-up we can round up on such short notice,” Bram continued, “but I figure we can get at least a handful.”

  “And the rayamara mercenaries are on stand-by,” Ronin added from where he stood near Bram, leaning back on the wall with Amara hugged against his chest. Being in close proximity to his love strengthened Ronin’s ability to spread his calming ability. It also kept him from losing his shit, something they were all struggling with at this point. “They’re ready to go upon our word.”

  That was good. It would give them close to ten soldiers on their side, which would at least put them in the same ballpark with the men Belpheg employed. But Keegan didn’t kid himself. Belpheg had powers, the extent of which they didn’t even know, and he didn’t seem to mind passing some of those powers on to his minions.

  “That’s not all,” Amara added, her voice raspy and wobbly. “I called my mother and friends after we left the cave. They should be here shortly, and they’re willing to do whatever it takes to help.”

  Keegan shot Amara a grateful smile. Thanks to their enslavement to Asmodeus, Amara, her mother and their friends had inherited some of the powers Belpheg had bestowed on the incubus. Their abilities were bound to be useful in one way or another. Amara could burn with her touch, Solara could force another’s limbs to move with thin ribbons of energy that emanated from her body, and Amara’s friends could also boil blood and turn into distort
ed versions of wolf and panther shifters. They’d discovered that their powers didn’t last long, and once depleted they needed an extensive recovery period before using them again. But they would still be helpful, and Keegan didn’t kid himself…they needed all the help they could get.

  Lina, who sat atop the squat, wide dresser with her crossed feet swinging back and forth, let out a short whistle. “If I correctly recall the things they could do, then that’s an impressive list. It gives us a fighting chance, at least.”

  “Agreed,” said Dagan, who stood right next to her.

  Though they didn’t look at or touch each other, somehow Keegan got the feeling something had happened between them. Luckily Ronin was too preoccupied to notice. Keegan couldn’t afford to have his brothers distracted right now.

  The only thing that mattered was getting Aegin back. Alive.

  “We have more than that,” Brynn said, her voice hollow. For the first time since they’d all gathered, she shifted her head upward. Her gaze focused on his, taking his breath with its anguished intensity. “We have the power of the Book of the Dead.”

  “But…I thought it was destroyed,” Amara said, her brows furrowing.

  “It was,” Brynn replied. “But the spell is burned into my brain.”

  When Ronin took a sharp inhale and straightened his back from the wall, she moved her level gaze to his wide-eyed one.

  “I still have the power of the book,” Brynn continued, her voice hardening with purpose. “I can raise the dead. And I’ll use that to destroy Belpheg, Mammon, and anyone else who gets in my way.”

  “Holy shit,” Ronin uttered, his tone ripe with disbelief.

  There was a moment of shocked silence as the room’s inhabitants processed her statement. Then Dagan let out a low, soft chuckle.

  “Now we’re talking.”

  Before Keegan could respond, there was a knock at the door. Frowning, he glanced at his brothers.

  “It’s probably Solara or one of my friends. I told them what room we’d be in.” Amara slipped from Ronin’s grasp and stalked to the door. But when she threw it open, it wasn’t to reveal a beautiful succubus on the other side. Instead, Tenos stood at the threshold.

  Oh shit.

  Keegan’s heart twisted and cramped, and his body tensed for action.

  “Who are you?” Amara asked with a frown.

  That was right. She hadn’t met him before. No one apart from him and Taeg had. They didn’t realize…

  “That’s Tenos,” Keegan growled. “The Council liaison.”

  And much as Keegan considered him a friend, if he was here to take them in or try to stop them in any way, he was about to become a very dead man.

  Chapter Twenty

  The ends of Belpheg’s long, black robe trailed behind him as he stalked through the winding corridor leading to his reception chamber. His footsteps echoed on the cold, hard stone. Tonight was the summer solstice. At long last, it was time to take his revenge.

  While part of him rankled at the fact Mammon hadn’t gained his full strength yet, he only had two of the required twelve powers left to gain.

  And five sons…counting the deranged vampire.

  Given the strength Mammon had bred into his progeny, Belpheg remained confident Mammon would be able to use his sons to gain his full powers before the centering ritual began. He was counting on it, in fact. His body was fraying at the seams. It simply wouldn’t hold out another three months for the fall equinox.

  It won’t need to. This ends tonight.

  And the men who had decimated his clan would at last meet their justice.

  Willing his racing heart to pump steadily, he stepped into the reception chamber, where a crowd of men gathered to await him. Mammon stepped forward when he saw Belpheg, making it clear that he’d already insinuated his leadership over the remaining men. Well, if there was anything Mammon was good at, it was establishing dominancy.

  Belpheg’s gaze raked over those who would form the circle of twelve, all incubi with the exception of Mammon. They were handsome, intelligent men who’d all been broken in some way…who’d been ripe for the picking. Along with his guards, they would form his army tonight, and what they lacked in numbers, they made up for with sheer power.

  Tonight his men would join him in heralding the future—the destruction of the Elden Council.

  “All is ready, I take it,” Belpheg said to Mammon.

  Mammon nodded, his gaze moving to the bundle lying on the rug on the opposite side of the room. The sniveling infant let out a pathetic wail before stuffing its tiny fist in its mouth. Belpheg glanced away before he could be moved by its apparent frailty. The child was a regrettable but necessary pawn, and he wouldn’t let its innocence sway him. Not now, when he was so close to finally accomplishing his life’s mission.

  The evil that was the Council had to be destroyed.

  “What’s up with the baby?”

  Belpheg followed the sound of Rage’s voice. The vampire stood by the fireplace, his back against the heavy wooden mantelpiece. Next to him was one of the twelve, an incubus whose name failed Belpheg but who gazed back and forth between Belpheg and the infant with thinly veiled disgust. He disapproved of Belpheg’s methods. The silken threads binding their souls together made that quite clear.

  Well, too bad. He might not own Rage’s soul, but he owned the incubus’s, and the time had come for him to collect his payment.

  “The child is none of your concern,” Belpheg responded coldly.

  Rage shrugged as if he didn’t have a care in the world, but he snuck another glance at the infant, an expression of unease in his dark eyes.

  “Once the Detainors arrive, we’ll capture them and have my succubi drain their essences. After that, we’ll form the circle.”

  With the circle in place, he would be able to perform the ritual. His body would become centered and he would be indestructible. Using the spells he’d learned from his people, he would then summon the Council members to this dimension…

  And he would destroy them.

  Belpheg turned to address both Mammon and his head sentinel, Emry. “Let’s all gather outside to discuss where our respective positions will be. I want nothing to stand in the way of our forming the circle once we’ve captured and absorbed the Detainors.”

  Mammon nodded and started to step forward, but then he paused and glanced at the whimpering child. “What should we do with the prisoner?”

  He didn’t bother glancing at the tiny babe. Best it was put out of sight, where neither he nor his men would have to think about it anymore.

  “Put it down in the dungeon.”

  There, no one would be forced to hear its pathetic screams.

  …

  Mammon carried the squirming infant in his arms as he took the steep stone stairs down to the damp, murky dungeon. Once upon a time it had served as a prison for mortals in their puny struggles for power. It had seen countless deaths, no doubt, and though it was now empty, the lingering smell of human rot remained.

  As he hit the final step, the child let out a piteous wail. One of his tiny fists snatched at the cloth of Mammon’s shirt. To Mammon’s surprise, the gesture elicited a sympathetic tug from his heart.

  It wasn’t as if it mattered to him that the child shared his bloodline, but even he recognized infants needed a mothering touch. His prodigal sons could say what they would about him, but he’d always ensured they had nannies to properly care for them, up until the youngest of his brood had begun to reach manhood. Simply abandoning the infant down here…it seemed heartless.

  The child shifted and dug his grip tighter into Mammon’s shirt. His eyes closed in on Mammon with an amazing sense of clarity. Red eyes, so very similar to his own.

  He lost track of how much time they spent like that, their gazes locked on each other, as if the child was trying to communicate a silent message. Begging for mercy…

  Yet where had Mammon’s sons been when he needed them most? They’d abandoned him,
left him to his own defenses. Reminded him that a man could rely on no one but himself.

  The sooner this infant learned that bitter lesson, the better off he’d be.

  Forcing back his compassion, he pried the child’s hand from his shirt and held him at arm’s distance. The smartest thing to do would be to toss the infant deeper inside the dungeon, where his sad cries would be lost. But truthfully, all Mammon wanted to do was get rid of him and leave. Now, before he suffered any further crises of conscience.

  Setting the now-wailing bundle onto the floor, he then turned and raced up the steps. Out of sight, out of mind, as the saying went.

  But as he strode down the winding corridor toward the exit, where Belpheg and the remainder of the men awaited him, he couldn’t help but wonder. What would happen once Belpheg succeeded in his plot to destroy the Council? What would the dark fae do then? He’d already made it clear he had no designs on ruling the worlds, and even if he did, Mammon would at best be his servant not his partner. And given that Belpheg could be so heartless where a defenseless infant was involved, what did this say about his end-goal plans for Mammon?

  Time to admit the truth. By helping the fae bring down the Council, he might also inadvertently be sealing his own fate. The reality of that chafed him to no end.

  Yet there wasn’t much he could do to remedy the situation. Being here, having Belpheg on his side—at least for the moment—was infinitely better than rotting away in the Council prison.

  Wasn’t it?

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Darkness had once again fallen over Romania. A thick mist shrouded the castle grounds, partially obscuring Dagan’s vision. That last part was courtesy of the Council liaison Tenos, who had traveled with them and who, as a moon elf, drew his power from the moon. It enabled him to moderately control the elements, including casting mist. Sure, it impeded their ability to see just as much as Belpheg and his men, but they would take every little bit of help they could get.

  I can’t believe he’s even here.

  Dagan glanced over at the tall, dark elf. He didn’t know why he’d expected the guy to be an asshole. Maybe just because he worked for the Council. But then Dagan and his brothers technically did as well, and they weren’t assholes…usually.