Siren Song bs-2

by Cat Adams

  “Why do you ask?”

  He met my gaze, dark eyes earnest. “I have messages for you from Bruno DeLuca, and the Landinghams—Warren, Emma, and Kevin. And I was contacted by a representative of King Dahlmar—”

  “Ivan?” I leaned forward eagerly. “Did he get in touch with you? Tell you what it was he needed?”

  Roberto nodded. “Ivan Stefanovich came to my office yesterday. He presented his identification and said that he had to see you as soon as possible. He indicated that it was a matter of national security. He asked that he be allowed to accompany me to this meeting. I was reluctant. But I called the embassy and checked on him and he voluntarily submitted to a truth spell. So I agreed to let him come in with me, pretending to be my co-counsel. He was going to say his piece, then leave, so that we could go over your case.”

  “Only he didn’t show?”

  “Exactly.”

  “That’s bad. Really bad.”

  “I waited for a half hour, then called the number he gave me. It’s not in service. When I called the embassy, this time they said he was out of the country. Do you have any idea what this is about?”

  “No more than you do. He tried to talk to me the night of Vicki’s wake, but the police separated us. He’s a telepath. I half-figured he’d try to get in touch with me mind-to-mind, but I guess they have protections up against that here.”

  “Yes. They do.”

  “So what do we do?”

  “I guess we just go forward with our trial prep. I’ll try to find out more when we’re done. Maybe whatever it was resolved itself. Or maybe he’ll get back in touch with me. But for now, your hearing is the day after tomorrow and we’ve got to get ready for it.”

  So that was what we did. But in the back of my mind I couldn’t help worrying, wondering what was going on out in the real world while I was tucked safely in the nuthouse.

  4

  I spent the rest of the day going through the motions, my mind caught up in worries about the court date, about whatever the hell was going on with Ivan, and, oddly, about Bruno.

  Bruno DeLuca is the love of my life. I know, corny. But he is. We met in college. He’d come out west to study with Warren Landingham in one of the best Paranormal Studies departments in the world. And to put a little distance between him and his very large, very domineering Italian-American family.

  We hit it off almost from the start. He’s smart, fun, and sexy as hell. He also had enough of a sense of humor not to take himself (or much of anything else) too seriously. No situation was ever too dire for Bruno Deluca to crack wise about it.

  We dated, fell in love, got engaged.

  And then I met the family.

  Oh boy. Wasn’t that a load of fun. Not. His mother didn’t just hate me. She loathed me. All of the other daughters-in-law hated me, too. And there are a lot of them. Uncle Sal was okay with me, so was cousin Joey. But that was it. Everybody else, no.

  Then there were the arguments about where we were going to live—East Coast vs. West. Children? Him: yes, lots. Me: uh, no. I like kids, but my life has been a series of dangerous disasters since I was little. I was not going to put an innocent child through that.

  They say love conquers all. They lie. We loved each other desperately, but there were too many things pulling us apart. We broke up. And we stayed broken up for years. Right up until he reappeared in my life a few weeks ago.

  God, I’d missed him. Miracle of miracles, he missed me, too. So, older, maybe a little wiser, we were giving it another shot.

  In my mind I went over the messages he’d sent with Roberto, short verbal messages on a flash drive from the law firm’s computer answering service. “The trip home to tell the family went pretty much the way I expected.” That meant badly. “Job negotiations are going well. Uncle Sal went with me to meet with Creede and Miller.” Oh, to be a fly on the wall for that meeting. “I love you. If you can get a day pass I’ll show you just how much.” Just thinking about that made my body react. Even when things hadn’t been going well emotionally, sex with Bruno had been spectacular.

  I had to get out of here. Soon. Which meant the hearing had to go well.

  A long day bled into a sleepless night. After a few hours of tossing and turning I gave up on the idea of sleep altogether.

  I showered and dressed, wondering what I was going to do to kill the hours until the cafeteria opened and the day actually started. I needn’t have worried. I’d no more than pulled on my slippers when there was a tap at my door.

  To my surprise a tall, slender woman stood in front of me, her long auburn hair pulled back to reveal a heart-shaped face with exotic features dominated by large eyes the rich blue-green color of the waters of the Mediterranean Sea. Her silk wrap dress was of the same shade and had been cut to make the most of a figure that was designed to turn men’s heads. She was too perfect to be true. Still, I’d have sworn that every inch of her was absolutely natural. I certainly didn’t feel any of the magic I’d come to associate with attractiveness charms and there were no obvious signs of cosmetic surgery. In fact, she didn’t even appear to be wearing much in the way of makeup.

  “Good morning, Celia.” I got the full weight of those extraordinary eyes. And just like that I knew. She was a siren.

  “Good morning.”

  “Dr. Scott was good enough to give me permission to see you.”

  Not by choice he didn’t. I thought it to myself, but I was surprised when she answered.

  No. Not by choice. She admitted it inside my skull. Eek. There will be about forty-five minutes that he can’t remember. He’ll assume it’s just one more sign of post-traumatic stress and schedule an appointment for an assessment.

  But it’s not.

  No, she admitted with a small smile. I manipulated him. But he is having problems. He should make the appointment anyway. If this pushes him to get help sooner, is that such a bad thing?

  Probably not, but that didn’t make me like it any better. Life had been a lot more comfortable for me before I realized just how easy it was for the psychically gifted to manipulate people. The more I found out, the more I could sympathize with the law’s hard-line policy. If only it didn’t apply to me. Damn the luck.

  The big siren gift is to enthrall men to the point that they’d do whatever the siren needed even to the point of death. They betray their families, their countries, whatever, with a smile on their face and a song in their heart. It completely takes away their free will. Which is just wrong, on so many levels. I’m a big believer in free will.

  “You’re not what I expected.” She tapped a manicured fingernail against her lip as she looked me up and down.

  “Really? What were you expecting?”

  “I didn’t think you’d be so . . .” She hesitated and I saw in her mind what she was about to say, which was “pretty.” She smiled and it was as beautiful as the first light of dawn after a long, cold night. I’m not gay, but I can appreciate gorgeous and this woman made the top-tier most beautiful in Hollywood look like day-old dog meat. I certainly wasn’t in her league. Oh, I do all right, better than some. But there’s a big step between playing in Little League and in the pros.

  “Uh, right.” I didn’t believe her and it showed.

  “I’m serious.” Her expression sobered. “I expected you to look more human, or more vampire. But there’s more than a trace of us in you. In fact, you bear more of a resemblance to Queen Lopaka than Adriana does. Except for the teeth, of course.” She smirked and even that expression looked good on her. “Of course, Adriana takes after her father in every way.”

  I had no idea what that was supposed to mean, so I couldn’t answer. Probably best that I stay quiet anyway.

  She must have taken my silence to mean I was insulted. “I meant no offense. It’s never a bad thing to have people underestimate you.”

  “Particularly my enemies.” I kept my tone light, but I’ll admit to being a teeny bit worried. My first encounter with my grandfather’s relatives
had been at Vicki’s wake. While my current visitor actually spoke in American idiom and seemed friendly, it was entirely possible she was giving me a line of bull.

  “You don’t trust me.”

  “It’s nothing personal.” I gave her a polite smile. “I don’t trust anybody.”

  That was the honest truth, put bluntly enough to make her blink and give me a long look through narrowed eyelids. “You mean that.”

  “I tend to say what I mean. It’s easier.” I gave her a grin that was only partly manufactured. “Of course I can lie, if the occasion calls for it.”

  “Of course. We all can.” She walked over to the window, pulling aside the curtain with one hand and turning to watch the waves hitting the beach. “May I ask what arrangements you’ve made about your hearing?”

  A siren had crashed Vicki’s wake to tell me that I would have to attend a hearing on the siren island. They seem to think the vampire bite has made me a monster that may need to be put down. I’ll have to go there and deal with it—assuming I get through the court hearing okay. “I haven’t made any. Why?”

  She whipped around so fast she pulled down the curtain, rod and all. She stared openmouthed at me, delicate peach-colored cotton in a death grip in her fist and puddled at her feet

  I shrugged. “The other one . . . Adriana?” I made the name a question and she nodded. “Didn’t tell me squat. She showed up, caused a scene, challenged me to a duel, said I’d be put up before the tribunal of Pacific lords. Then she left.”

  “A duel? The Pacific lords?”

  “To the death. And yes.”

  She blinked a couple of times, batting lashes almost long enough to create a breeze. “Oh my. You certainly have managed to antagonize her.”

  “It wasn’t hard.” My tone was dry. “She was monumentally rude and looking to take offense.”

  My visitor threw back her head and let out a peal of honest laughter. “That would be Adriana all right.”

  “I don’t suppose you’re going to tell me where the ‘Isle of Serenity’ is and when I’m supposed to be there? Or are you the escort?”

  The woman’s head tipped down, her eyes narrowing dangerously. Her voice took on a dangerous purr. “She truly didn’t tell you?”

  “Nope. Got pissy, issued her challenge, and told me that since I wouldn’t treat her like a proper princess she didn’t feel compelled to tell me squat.”

  “That is also like Adriana and completely unacceptable.” The woman smiled again, but this time it was more a baring of teeth. “As you guessed, I’m a siren; in fact, I’m as much a princess as Adriana and as you.”

  She sounded defiant about it, as if she expected me to argue with her, and I did, but obviously not in the way she expected. “I’m no princess. Not even a little.”

  “Oh, but you are.” She shook her head, her blue-green eyes dancing with mischief. “You come from a royal line. Your great-grandfather was brother to the queen. In fact, you come from the Pacific royal line, just like Adriana. And she has pissed off so many of the other royals that having an alternative, even an unlettered heathen like you, will put her in a very precarious position indeed.”

  “Unlettered heathen?” I tried not to sound as hideously insulted as I felt but didn’t quite manage it.

  “You don’t know the first thing about our culture, do you?” Her smile was poisonously sweet.

  “Well, no. But unlettered heathen?” I repeated the words with some heat. “That has got to be an insult.”

  Her cheeks went a teeny bit pink. “I’m sorry. I’m just quoting some of the more vocal members of the family. Atrocious snobs for the most part.” She paused. “Just so you know.”

  “I take it you’re not from the Pacific line.”

  She blinked and blushed more furiously. “Oh dear. I really am handling this badly. How rude of me. I haven’t introduced myself, have I?”

  “Nope.”

  She curtsied. Actually pulled out her skirt and dipped a leg back before bowing her head for a split second. Then she stood. “I am Princess Eirene Medusi of the Aegean royal line, but you may call me Ren. I do beg your pardon. It was unbelievably gauche of me not to introduce myself the moment I walked in.”

  “It’s no big deal.” Right now, the lack of a proper introduction seemed like the least of my worries.

  She gave me a long, measuring stare. “You actually mean that. You’re not going to throw a fit or challenge me for the insult?”

  I smiled. “Nope.”

  She grinned back at me, showing a set of fetching dimples. “How very refreshing. If we’re not careful, I may actually come to like you.” Her voice bubbled with amusement.

  “Don’t sound so shocked.”

  “Oh, but it is surprising. Your branch of the family and mine very politely loathe each other. Your side considers us upstarts because my mother broke off from the clan and formed her own hierarchy. We think they’re a bunch of pompous . . . well, never mind. Let’s just say that my motive here was to see if I could catch Adriana having done something embarrassing. And I have.” Her delight was obvious. She gave me a conspiratorial wink. “Of course, the excuse we gave was something else entirely.”

  “Which was?”

  “We’re giving you a gift to welcome you to the family.”

  A gift? I tried to think positive and not conjure up mental images of big wooden horses. After all, my visitor could apparently get inside my skull.

  “Adriana is going to hate having you actually show up for the hearing before the queens.” Ren sounded positively gleeful. “You’ll appear before the queens, not the lords. Entirely different areas of authority. The lords tribunal handles the laws of the sea. The queens deal with family matters. Oh, this is delicious! She would have had you at the wrong time and in the wrong place on the island. Queen Lopaka will be beside herself at the insult to her brother’s great-grandchild.”

  “It’s the same queen as when my great-grandfather was alive? Yikes. She must be a sturdy old girl. Then you’re going to tell me where, when, and how?”

  “Oh, better than that.” She waved a hand, making the bracelet of seashells and tourmaline wound with gold wire she wore glitter in the sunlight. “If I can possibly manage it, I’m going to take you there myself. I can’t wait to see Adriana’s expression when you appear.”

  Ren’s voice was delighted, but I could hear a deep bitterness in her words. She really did loathe the other princess. While I didn’t have any reason to love Adriana, I’m not a fool. I was staying out of the middle of that catfight. “Um, I’m under house arrest.”

  She smiled. “You won’t be. The official hearing before the queens isn’t for a couple of days. By then all sorts of things will have changed.”

  “And you know this how?” I was really hoping she hadn’t “arranged” it. Because as suspicious as the authorities were, they’d never believe I hadn’t. And that would be so bad.

  “We have our ways.” Her eyes twinkled, then she started to pout at my lackluster reaction. “Oh, will you please relax. I haven’t done a thing, nor have any of the other sirens. But the king you helped has and your government is very interested in your talents and abilities. Between one thing and another, you’d have to do something fairly heinous between now and then to be stuck here. And you don’t strike me as the type for heinous.”

  She apparently didn’t know me very well. Or she had a very different definition of “heinous” than most. When I cause trouble it’s seldom intentional, but I still wind up in hot water.

  “Anyway.” Ren waved her hand in a theatrical gesture and I felt a surge of power. With a shimmer of light, a small, elaborately carved box appeared in her hand. It was quite beautiful, elegant and detailed with Egyptian-style carvings of a snake having swallowed the sun. It was inlaid with lapis and moonstone and smelled ever so faintly of cedar. I couldn’t say why, but it felt old. Old and powerful, in the way my favorite knives were powerful. Those knives, locked away in my safe, had taken Bruno five y
ears of daily bloodletting to make. Which made me wonder what in the hell was in that box.

  She reached out to give it to me and our hands brushed. The instant our skin touched I felt a jolt of power hard enough to rock me back a step. The box dropped onto the thick carpet, spilling out a small gold cup and a collection of brightly colored scarabs the size of my thumbnail. They scattered and I could see that symbols were carved into their flat bottoms.

  Ren didn’t fare nearly as well. The bolt knocked her onto her butt in the middle of the floor. I heard the roar of the ocean and outside a group of gulls began dive-bombing the windows, knocking themselves senseless trying to get in.

  “Ow.” I shook my hand, trying to make the odd pins-and-needles sensation that wasn’t quite pain go away. There was a mark on my palm, about the size of an old-time silver dollar. Dark red, it was irregularly shaped, like a tentacled birthmark. It was seriously ugly and looked old, which made no sense at all, since it hadn’t been there seconds before.

  Ren stared up at me, her face drained of all color, her expression one of abject horror. “Let me see your palm.” Her voice was shaky, but there was grim determination in her eyes.

  “Why?”

  She gave a hiss of displeasure. “Quickly, in case the mark fades! Let me see your palm!”

  I held my hand, palm toward her, being very careful not to touch. After she had a good, long look she very carefully scooted backward and stood without my help. Using her hands to smooth her skirt, she bent carefully at the waist to study the spill of scarabs.

  “I can see you’ve been given a death curse but not who did it or how. Perhaps the Wadjeti can tell us.”

  I watched as she very gingerly picked up the lid to the box, giving me my first glimpse of the exquisite scarab on the inside of the lid. One by one, she began gathering up the small bits of Egyptian pottery, looking carefully at the symbol on the bottom of each as she did.

  “Cursed?” Crap. We studied curses back when I was in school. I even knew a guy who’d been on the receiving end of one. And while he’d been an absolute jerk who richly deserved it—still, ouch. I understand that surgery helped with part of the problem and he and his wife eventually were able to adopt. “Is it fixable?”