Recovering the Siren

by Erin R Flynn

  If you did, thank you. Thank you for respecting me and other authors for their hard work, understanding this is our job, and while we love it, we do deserve to be compensated for all the hours, and hours, and hours we put into it.

  If you did not… Go buy one! You are a thief and your parents and grandparents and cute animals all around the world are ashamed of you. There is no justification for committing this crime because it is a crime, no different than walking into a physical bookstore, taking a print copy off the shelf, and walking out of the store without paying for it.

  There is no such thing as a victimless crime. If you truly believe that, you’ve never been a victim. And the victims aren’t only the authors, but the fans who lose authors that quit over our constantly being stolen from and mistreatment. Mistreating the authors that write the books you like or read—not liking them isn’t an excuse for theft, it’s just extra weird then—that’s not a fan. Fans leave reviews to support. Fans send messages of love. Fans… Well fans are nice. Be nice.

  There are lots of ways to fight ebook piracy, reporting the site even if you’re not the copyright holder is always a good option. If you want to help in the fight, Google it and you can see there are many ways.

  Two questions have been on everyone’s mind since Division Chief Seraphine Thomas went missing on her way home from NYC:

  Who abducted her?

  How do we get her back?

  The answer to the first is layered, the repercussions of it no one can fully foresee. The second answer is probably a given considering how kickass Sera is. Though she can’t do it alone and the one who comes to help wasn’t who most would think.

  Especially because it’s not a simple rescue. At. All.

  Months have passed when she returns home, and only her training with the FBI and going undercover saves her from too much crashing down on her at once. Oh yeah, and she’s still dying. They don’t know how she’s still alive when her own body was eating itself to survive.

  The road to recovery will be difficult, but she has help, and she does the best she can, especially when betrayal hits her hard from a place she hoped it wouldn’t.

  Thankfully all that work she put into building a solid foundation for herself pays off because the paranormals of Chicago will need to pull together or everything they built could be lost.

  Seraphine Thomas is a crime series filled with Chicago attitude and a strong heroine that pushes what most would think a female lead capable of, along with the heat being involved with several men brings while trying to figure out what she wants.

  1

  I came around to weird sounds, wet sounds and grunting, but was back out before I could figure what it was.

  “Fuck! Why are you not getting pregnant?” a deep voice growled, bringing me to the surface again. There was some banging which helped and worried me since I was still half out of it.

  And couldn’t move. Everything hurt, and my body was heavy, but I felt like I was restrained for some reason. The voice was muttering, and it wasn’t familiar.

  Had I been taken?

  He mentioned not being pregnant again, and I swallowed down the horror as I put two and three together and came up with someone trying to get me pregnant while I was unconscious. I could vomit over that later, but right then I had to get out of there.

  But I needed more information first. I tried to get my head clear, but it was too foggy, and soon this guy would realize I was coming around. He wasn’t a vampire, shifter, or fairy if he hadn’t yet because my heart seemed to be echoing in my head and I was on the verge of panicking.

  “Do you want a baby, Bri?” I muttered, reaching deep for all my acting talent to save me now. “You know the rule on that.”

  “What are you talking about?” he demanded, mumbling he’d have to up my dose.

  Which was bad since I was too weak. I needed to fix that. I made kissy noises. “You forgot? Give me a kiss and I’ll tell you.”

  “Just tell me,” he snapped.

  “Bri? You’re not Brian. He always kisses me. Where’s Brian?” I whimpered, sounding more out of it than I was, but trying for information and to trap him.

  “I’m here, sweetie,” he assured me, actually sounding like Brian.

  Witch. He was a warlock. Shit.

  “Brian kisses me,” I argued, making my voice like I was falling back to sleep.

  Rough lips quickly brushed mine. So he knew I could feed that way. He knew I was a siren.

  I pushed the panic and other bubbling feelings down, focused on nothing else except getting more information. “That’s not a kiss. Is my morning breath that bad?”

  “No, you’re perfect,” he lied, kissing me again. “Tell me the secret.”

  “You want to have a baby? I thought we weren’t ready?”

  “We are,” he pushed. “Let’s have a baby, sweetie.”

  His voice almost fooled me, but Brian never called me “sweetie.” It used to be “baby” now and again until he’d heard Jason call me that, and now he only ever called me “babe” when he was being affectionate.

  “I’ve got a migraine,” I muttered, not lying that my head killed me. “My eyes hurt.”

  “I’ll get you something in a minute and some nummy food. You promised to tell me the secret.” He got more into character, running his hand over my hair. It brought back more senses almost as I realized I felt gross, used, but I pushed that down, trying to rouse my wolf enough to help.

  But she wasn’t waking. We were dying. We were so weak we were dying, and even my siren wasn’t responding.

  No, no way, not like this. No way I’m dying here after some baby factory crazy nabs me! “I have to want to. Sirens have to want to get pregnant when they agree with their wolf.”

  “I’d forgotten about that,” he grumbled.

  Yeah, he wasn’t Brian because it was total bullshit. “Are we gonna have a little boy with your eyes?”

  “No, a little girl who’s strong like you,” he murmured, getting he had to play the part.

  And confirming this was all about power. A siren girl would be more powerful even before she shifted. But why did a warlock want one? My brain was coming up with nothing, and I missed what he said because he shook me. “Sorry, tired. I love you, Bri.”

  “I love you too, sweetie. Make a baby with me.”

  “Kisses,” I giggled as I felt my wolf finally stir. I begged her to give me the strength we needed now. He sighed and kissed me, but I kept teasing him for more as I felt why I couldn’t move. My wrists and ankles were bolted down somehow.

  It took me a few minutes to coax him into believing I wasn’t going to trap him or feed from him… But of course I did. I got him to move closer and in a flash shifted my hand to my third form claw which broke the metal cuff.

  And my wrist. I fought through the pain and dug my claws into his back, holding him to me as I gulped down his energy. He struggled as I felt my siren stir.

  Help me. Help me now or we’re dead. I begged her to help me and our wolf, and she snapped out of it, jumping in to feed. She started to get too full, but I pushed her. We needed to kill him. I had the mental image of her giving me a shocked look that I went there, but if we didn’t kill him, he would turn up whatever he was giving me and we were dead.

  She nodded as my wolf struggled to keep strength enough for the claw and the way he fought. A few more moments and he stopped, slumping against me as he died. I had enough strength to open my eyes at least, wincing at how the light hurt. It looked like a clinic almost. No, the corner of somewhere set up like a clinic.

  That was all I could see before I realized his body was sliding off of me.

  No, no, not yet. Hold him. We are not dying here!

  Phone. I n
eeded his phone. I yanked him up higher, crying in pain at how bad that hurt when my wrist wasn’t healing and my throat ached. I’d pushed that pain aside while acting, but now I couldn’t ignore it as more of my senses and feeling returned.

  And I was going to pass out from the pain soon. My siren was about to stall out from taking that much energy because he’d been powerful.

  We are not dying here! I screamed it in my head and snapped them both back to focus. I felt a lump against me, wanting to sob when I realized his phone was in his shirt pocket. I used my claw to flip him, swallowing down the agony it made me feel, and reached into his pocket.

  Only to find a notepad. I screamed, and tears filled my eyes. I was going to die here. My body was shutting down, and I’d taken that one chance to break the restraint, and now there was nothing left in me. I had flashes of all the people I would never get to see again, say goodbye to.

  No, this is not how we die, my siren argued, flooding me with energy to snap me out of it and help heal me enough to feel more, sense what was going on around me.

  Like the phone on my hip that had fallen out of his pocket when I’d flipped him. Fuck yeah. I grabbed it and shoved him off of me, relieved when he fell to the floor with the thump only a dead body could make.

  Someone was smiling down on me when there was no code to unlock the phone. It was a cheap burner, but it had a full fucking battery, so that was all I needed. I managed to dial 911, but it never connected.

  Not in the US.

  Fuck.

  I wracked my mush brain. What emergency numbers did I call on undercover cases?

  I hit 119, thinking of Japan and being a host there.

  No go.

  Most of the Middle East and several other countries were 999.

  No go.

  Tears filled my eyes as I tried 112, which was most of Europe. I had no idea after that, and my energy was waning.

  “Emergency services, do you need assistance?” a voice asked me in German.

  I hung up. Germany. I was in Germany. I could call home then.

  Except I couldn’t remember the country codes for the US, and I wasn’t sure if the phone would work for that.

  But I did know someone’s number where I regularly had to put in the code that popped into my head. I just prayed he answered. I hurried to dial Apollo’s cell, despair filling me when I got his voicemail.

  “Apollo, it’s me, Sera. Fuck, please get this. Please come for me. I’m in Germany. I’m still strapped to a table. A warlock took me. He was trying to get me pregnant. Please, get this. I’m fading, and I don’t think I’ll wake back up. I don’t have contacts in Germany anymore.” I put the message as a priority and typed in the number to text him.

  It’s Sera.

  Please it’s Sera, Apollo.

  Trace this number.

  Come get me.

  I don’t want to die here.

  I sent several more, not getting the spelling most of the time as my wrist and hand were now numb from the pain and breaks. I felt myself fading faster and realized I had no other chance but to risk the locals. I didn’t know if Apollo would even get it.

  Knowing my luck, I was getting one number wrong or something. I doubted it, but my brain was such mush I couldn’t be sure.

  “Emergency services, do you need assistance?” someone asked me when I called back 112.

  “My name is Seraphine Thomas, division chief of the United States FBI. I have been abducted. I do not know my location, but I beg for help and my people be called. He’s drugged me, and I can’t get free. Please help me.”

  “Chief Thomas, stay calm,” the woman said gently. “We will trace the call and send help. We can contact your people.”

  “Fading, I’m fading,” I mumbled as the darkness swallowed me. I quickly put the phone on my stomach so it didn’t slide out of my hand or off of me, needing that call to be connected to save me.

  God or whoever is listening, please let them save me.

  2

  When I came around I was restrained… Again. Not still, as both hands were locked up.

  Mother.

  Fucker.

  “No, let me go,” I screamed, struggling with the force of a wounded kitten as the lights and sounds assaulted me.

  “Chief Thomas, you’re safe,” someone yelled over me in German. “You’re at the hospital. Please calm down. We restrained you for our safety.”

  I started to settle, but my wolf whimpered. No, they were lying. Something about that wasn’t right.

  “Hurry up. The sedatives aren’t doing enough and we’re running out,” a voice I knew ordered quietly in English. He was blurry, but I knew that voice.

  And then I really panicked when I put it together. That was the former director of the CIA, and he was not my friend.

  And then more panic came when I heard someone use the word “harvest” in German.

  And then I panicked even more when I realized there were cold instruments on my girly parts. Why the fuck were my feet bolted down in stirrups?

  Again.

  I screamed as I struggled, putting all I had into getting free. It worked because I broke the restraints, along with my wrists and ankles, but something else happened. Some sort of electricity came out of me, and even with my blurry vision I saw the people in the room go down like I tased them.

  That was new.

  I rolled off the exam table and landed to the floor with a thump and heard several things break, wondering how bad of shape I was in that my bones just snapped like twigs. I managed to scoot away and into the corner so no one could get behind me, checking out the room and seeing the surveillance camera in the corner. So people were watching and would come.

  Someone groaned, and I locked eyes with the former CIA director as he lifted his head.

  He growled as he pushed up. “What was that? Since when do you have that power on top of the others?”

  “Fuck you,” I whispered, not able to force out more than that. “How?”

  He smirked at me. “I’ve got friends all over. Here I’m in Germany handling some private matters before I lose the pull you took from me, and the local office gets a call that you’re here asking for assistance.” His grin grew as his eyes danced with glee. “So I came to assist and get what the government wants more than me out.”

  It hurt to swallow, but I did it anyways out of instinct. Me. There were a lot of people with pull that wanted me as a lab rat or to figure out everything about what I could do.

  They were harvesting me while I was still alive. That was why I was so much weaker after my siren had fed. She had no juice to process it because I felt like I was several liters down.

  I wasn’t sure what I would have said, but there was a loud explosion and the floor under us shook. I sent up a silent prayer that they’d been stupid and left a trail, forcing myself to smile at the director when he gave me a surprised look. “That wasn’t the only call I made.”

  “You’re still dead, and we got enough of what we needed.” He pushed to his feet and glanced at the door, but his anger won over being smart and he came towards me.

  I blinked, and Apollo was suddenly there, snapping the director’s neck and stomping on the head of someone else I’d knocked out. Tears filled my eyes as I met his gaze. “They were harvesting me. He said they got the samples.”

  “Yes, and a variety,” he muttered, looking up at my head instead of my eyes.

  I reached up, and horror filled me when I found no hair. They’d taken all of my hair along with blood and whatever else they’d been trying for giving me an exam down south. It was the straw that broke the camel’s back though as I screamed, clutching my now hairless head. I screamed and screamed, even as he came over and hugged me.

  “You’re safe now, Seraphine. It will grow back, but we finally found you,” he rasped, hugging me tighter.

  Finally? How long had I been gone?

  My brain unplugged, the stress and emotions and everything overwhelming me, and I wa
s just out like when my clairvoyant side got overwhelmed. It was probably for the best as I’d been too hysterical to be of any use.

  But what was I going to wake up to next? If I was strapped down again, I was just seriously going to lose my shit.

  I gasped as I felt my seat jolt. I blinked around and locked eyes with Apollo, not restrained, but I had a seatbelt on.

  “We brought you right home,” he explained immediately. “We destroyed everything and flew out to bring you home. You’ve been asleep this whole time. You need medical attention and badly.”

  “Okay,” I whispered as the plane finished slowing down. “Thanks for coming.”

  “I’m sorry we didn’t get there first,” he murmured as he undid his belt and came over to me. “And I do not know the best way to tell you all of this or help you.”

  “Just give me a bit,” I muttered, my brain not firing right and on sensory overload. “Everything hurts.”

  “Yes, you’re in bad shape,” he admitted before taking off my belt. The plane stopped, and he gently lifted me. “I maybe didn’t help by getting you out of there before medical aid, but the situation was troubling.”

  “Thanks for coming,” I repeated, knowing it was a shit storm and not holding him to that fallout. I bit my lip to keep quiet at how much pain I was in as he managed to get me out of the door and onto the stairs. I flinched at the hot air outside, but there were sunglasses on my face so that helped. I saw a group standing there and gasped when I found Brian. “He looks ten years older.”

  “You were not gone that long,” he told me, answering my unasked question. “But yes, he has aged drastically from stress.”

  “How long?”

  “Almost four months.”

  Well, that was better than ten years, but damn, that would take a bit to process.

  “The ambulance is waiting,” Brian told Apollo, hurrying over to meet us. I flinched at hearing his voice, knowing it was really him this time but hating that whoever had taken me had sounded like him. “It’s really you. Fuck, Sera.”