Jack approached the open crate and quickly beckoned Samantha to his side. He dipped his hand into the crate and pulled out a handful of gold coins unlike any that he had ever seen before. Some glimmered brightly in the flickering candlelight, while others were tarnished and dull. The style of the coins varied greatly, most emblazoned with text that Jack couldn’t read. He recognized some as being Spanish, and he saw others that he thought might be Latin.
“Holy shit! Is this real? Some of these coins look ancient. There’s thousands in here,” he said.
Jack allowed the coins to fall back into the crate, and then he grabbed one between his fingers, holding it up to get a closer look at the impression molded into the precious metal.
“Does this look like Julius Caesar to you?” he asked his companion.
With her eyes opened wide at the sight, Samantha’s lips parted to reply. But the words were halted by a sound from across the room. She spun around quickly and leveled her Glock in the direction of the noise. Along the wall by the propane tanks was a jagged opening, which appeared to have been chiseled out of the stone wall. They could see a line of sconces with burning candles disappear into the darkened passageway. As they approached, Jack tapped Samantha on the shoulder and gestured toward the propane tanks. A long hose, which was connected to the nearest tank, snaked along the floor into the passageway and disappeared into the darkness.
“Maybe they’re having a cookout,” whispered Jack.
Samantha quietly responded, “Not funny.”
Inching forward, Samantha moved toward the passageway until she stood on the precipice. The opening itself looked as if it had been recently excavated, but the uneven stone stairs on the other side looked ancient. The narrow stone corridor sloped downward and to the right, making it impossible to see where it led. As she took her first step, Samantha could hear the faint echo of her footfall as it bounced off the aged masonry. So much for sneaking up on anyone, she thought.
The pair moved down the twisting stone passage, carefully watching every footstep on the damp stone treads beneath their feet. Jack guessed that they had dropped an additional eight to ten feet underground when they stepped out into a vast underground chamber. The first thing they noticed was the immediate foul combination of odors that greeted them. A moldy odor of damp had intermixed with the scent of human excrement to form an offensive smell that made Jack gag as they entered.
With only a few candles burning, the chamber was shrouded in shadows. The narrow propane gas hose, which they had followed down the stone stairway, attached to a small space heater on the floor near their feet, providing a minuscule amount of heat to the otherwise chilly stone cell. A simple twin bed sat against the far wall, with its arched wrought iron headboard showing signs of dilapidation; a white chamber pot rested on the floor at the foot of the bed. Across the corridor that they had just entered from was another passageway leading into further darkness. Jack took a few steps into the darkened passage ahead of them, while Samantha moved further into the chamber.
As extraordinary as the dark room was, the occupant of the bed made it almost surreal and a little terrifying at the same time. She was chained to the headboard by one wrist, while the other was attached to an IV bag, which hung above the bed. The young woman’s chocolate hair was matted and knotty, looking as if it had not been washed in a few weeks. The color of her heart-shaped face was pale, and her thin lips were a faded pink. Samantha thought she might be in her early twenties, but in her current state she looked ten years older. Deep in slumber, the woman’s eyes were closed, and her chest rose and fell with each shallow breath. A dingy white sheet covered her body, but it couldn’t hide the bulge of her abdomen.
“Jack!” exclaimed Samantha.
When he didn’t return, Samantha called out again, “Jack!”
Jack quickly returned from the darkened corridor and, gesturing behind him, said, “There’s another chamber back there. The old door’s got a barred window. Someone’s in there. I could just see him over in the corner.”
“What’d he look like?” inquired Samantha.
“I couldn’t see him well. Tall, thin, with white hair.”
“Could be Hardwick,” replied Samantha.
“The fertility doctor?””
Samantha gestured toward the bed, and said, “She’s pregnant.”
Quickly moving to the side of the bed, Samantha slid her firearm into its holster, and she leaned over the sleeping woman. The detective touched the woman’s shoulder and tried, unsuccessfully, to wake her. Samantha nudged a little harder, receiving only a faint moan in response.
Looking up at Jack, who was standing on the opposite side of the bed, Samantha quietly said, “She’s sedated. We’ve got to get her out of here.”
“If we can get this chain off, we could carry her out with the sheet,” Jack suggested.
“Look, Adonia. We have visitors,” echoed a disembodied voice throughout the chamber.
Samantha’s hand flashed to her holster, and her Glock was suddenly in her hand and sweeping the room in search of a target. From out of the shadows appeared the naked form of Adonia, with her fiery red hair flowing down to her shoulders. In an equal state of undress stood another woman who Jack, even though he had only seen her from afar, recognized from her brief appearances at Pulsar. In such close proximity, Jack was struck by her beauty, which was equaled only by that of her companion. Their shapely bodies looked almost identical, with the only visible difference between the two being their facial structure and hair color. He was mesmerized by the sight of her blonde hair flowing off her shoulders, like a golden waterfall stirring his memories of Emma. He now understood the power that the two could hold over men.
Smiling, Adonia asked, “What shall we do with them, Kallista?”
The one called Kallista replied, “Is this the little man you were telling me about?”
Adonia nodded her head in silent reply.
As she glared at the bare flesh of the two Seirenes, a flood of conflicting emotions and thoughts filled Samantha’s head. She hated them for what they had done in her city. Samantha was angry about the trail of bodies that these creatures had left in their wake and the seemingly easy manner with which they disregarded human life. Yet, to her surprise, Samantha found a streak of jealousy emerge from her subconscious. She had always thought of herself as being attractive, but Samantha had to admit that these two were the most beautiful women she had ever seen. The two naked creatures standing before her would put every Playboy model to shame. It was this jealousy that sent an even greater sense of hatred bursting from her psyche. The past few days had been an emotional roller coaster ride, and keeping her emotions in check was siphoning off all of Samantha’s reserves.
Samantha, who was swinging her gun from one to the other, glanced at Jack for only a moment. The snub-nosed revolver was still tucked away in his waistband. His eyes were focused on the exposed bodies of Adonia and Kallista, and they were not wavering. She suddenly felt very much alone.
“So, what’s the deal? You’re nudists, is that it?” Samantha asked, trying to make light of her precarious situation.
Kallista smiled. “Such simple minds. We find clothing to be abhorrent. To restrict one’s body with flimsy fabric is so distasteful.”
Adonia added, “One’s beauty should be worshipped and held aloft for all to see. Even you, detective, must admit that ours is a beauty far beyond any other on this earth.”
“But your modest conventions do not allow us to wander free without covering our beauty,” finished Kallista.
Glancing around the chamber, Samantha said, “Nice place you have here. Very rustic.”
Adonia raised her hands, and with a sweeping gesture, said, “You like our refuge? This shall one day be heralded as sacred ground.”
“It took three of your strongest men to unseal the chamber. We didn’t want to—what do wome
n say these days? Break a nail?” added Kallista.
Gesturing toward the unconscious woman in the bed, Samantha demanded, “What have you done to her?”
“She is our vessel, our carrier,” replied Kallista.
“She shall be exalted for all eternity as the First Mother,” added Adonia.
Glancing between the Seirenes and the woman in the bed, Samantha struggled to understand the meaning of what they were saying. Their unusual expressions combined with their strong Greek accents made it difficult to follow the conversation. With her mind clouded and conflicted, Samantha was finding it difficult to not be blinded by admiration of their beauty. As much as she hated these two creatures, Samantha couldn’t help but feel a sense of appreciation bordering on reverence. She wondered if this was just another of the Seirenes’ mind tricks.
Samantha shook her head, hoping it would clear her thoughts. “If there’s anyone in this room that’s a mother, it’s you two. Just a pair of mothe—”
“Now, now. There’s no need to be uncivil, detective,” interrupted Adonia. “It is our destiny to thrive, to break beyond the three and become those adored and worshipped for our beauty.”
Samantha laughed. “Worshipped? I don’t see anything worth worshipping. All I see are enormous egos.”
“It’s such a pity, detective. You don’t understand beauty that can transcend time when you see it. We are the ones who are irresistible. Men and even women are entranced by our beauty,” said Adonia.
Samantha chuckled. “Transcend time? All beauty eventually fades.”
Kallista tossed her head back and laughed. “Our beauty has remained for centuries. You can’t deny your admiration and wonderment of our beauty. I can see it in your eyes. I can see it in your mind. Look at your companion. Even he’s in awe over what’s before him, despite his broken heart.”
Samantha glanced at Jack once again. He hadn’t moved since the two Seirenes appeared. She tried to seem relaxed and unconcerned by the situation, but she could feel the fear building up inside her. Holding onto the hope that Peter would find his way down to the cellar was becoming the only hope she had left.
“What’d you expect? He’s a man, and you’re naked. Of course he’s in awe,” Samantha said.
“Oh, it’s far more than that. Far more,” said Kallista. Then she stared at Jack, and her eyes began to glow. At first, it started as a pale red incandescence but quickly increased in intensity until her eyes burned like an out-of-control forest fire. “Jack, kill Samantha Ballard.”
Chapter Twenty-Five
Jack had not been paying attention to the conversation up to that point and had found it difficult to focus on anything but Adonia and Kallista. His mind had become a hazy fog from which he couldn’t seem to escape. Faint whisperings had been echoing through his subconscious that Jack could hear but not understand. It was a feeling far different from that which he experienced during Adonia’s appearance at the radio station. Where that had been an overwhelming lust for the Seirene’s nakedness, this was more like an emptiness that hindered all conscious thought. He had been vaguely aware that a conversation was occurring around him, but Jack had no capacity to participate until the command had been issued.
The single command echoed through his mind, not so much as one that he should obey, but one that he was unable to disobey. Every fiber of his being said that he must disregard the mandate, but every one of those fibers seemed to be overridden by his mind. Jack’s arm slowly reached for the revolver tucked in his waistband.
Samantha watched helplessly as Jack’s arm moved like an automaton, slowly gripping the handle of her father’s Colt .38 revolver, and drawing it from his waistband. She swung her body toward Jack, aiming her Glock in his direction, and then, concerned about leaving the Seirenes unchecked, swung back toward them.
“Jack!” she shouted.
With the revolver gripped firmly in his hand, he slowly lifted his arm and turned to face Samantha. In desperation, she spun back toward him and took aim at Jack’s chest.
“Damn it! Jack! Snap out of it!” she exclaimed.
Leveling his firearm at Samantha, he heard nothing but the whispering voices repeating the command over and over, “Kill Samantha Ballard.”
Samantha looked deep into Jack’s empty eyes, and felt utterly helpless. She knew she would have no choice but to shoot him before he could pull the trigger. It was an agonizing decision, which she knew had only one outcome. She stared down the barrel of her father’s gun and fought back the tears, which threatened to pour down her cheeks. Being a police officer always came with the risk of looking down the wrong end of a gun, but she never thought it would be her father’s own gun that might take her life.
It was like playing chicken as Samantha desperately tried to judge when Jack would pull the trigger. She was hoping that Jack would suddenly snap out of his trance or that Peter would swoop in to save the day. The man across the bed from her had quickly become a friend, and even a confidant, in the inexplicable events of the past few weeks. Who else did she have who believed the reality that these creatures existed, and were a threat to the city?
“Jack! Please don’t make me shoot you! Jack!” she shouted, as she watched his finger tighten on the trigger.
Samantha’s eye had sighted the center of Jack’s chest down the barrel of her Glock, and felt the cold trigger pressed against her finger. It would be an easy shot at such a short distance, and Samantha had no doubt that she could put Jack down quickly. But she was finding it difficult to pull the trigger. Although not a religious woman, she found herself praying for some kind of reprieve. Not knowing how powerful the Seirenes’ influence was on Jack, Samantha was desperate for anything that could break the spell.
“Jack!” she shouted again. Then, as a desperate thought crossed her mind, “Jack, think about Emma! Emma, Jack! Think about Emma!”
The name echoed in his head, intermingling with the command “Kill Samantha Ballard”. The hazy fog in his mind had been burning a fiery red ever since the command had been issued from Kallista’s ruby lips. But as he sighted his target down the barrel of the revolver, something changed. Amidst the fiery haze, two tiny pinpricks of blue appeared, at first minuscule when compared to the burning red brightness, but growing in intensity. The vibrant blue orbs swelled, rapidly encompassing the fiery haze until it had vanished, leaving behind only a vision of two crisp, blue eyes, so beautiful and lovely that Jack couldn’t help but shed a tear. Lowering his arm, Jack slid the revolver back into his waistband, and weakly smiled at Samantha.
“I’m okay,” he said quietly.
Samantha returned his smile, nodded her head, and then replied, “Good.”
Before Jack could interpret the meaning of the nod, the detective swiftly swung her arm around, and the chamber filled with two booming echoes as Samantha’s finger pulled the trigger on her Glock twice in rapid succession. Her arm shifted again quickly, and two more loud concussions followed the first pair. In the enclosed space, the gunshots reverberated off the walls like a crushing cannonade, making Jack’s ears ring. He caught a glimpse of the two Seirenes reeling back as each took the full blast of the shots in their chests. Small crimson holes showed Samantha’s bullets had found their mark. But his glimpse was only momentary as Samantha rushed past, grabbed his hand, and dragged him toward the exit.
They stumbled up the stairs of the dimly lit passageway and burst out into the upper cellar of the old house. They could hear the two Seirenes behind them roaring with a bloodcurdling fury. Neither Jack nor Samantha believed that the bullets would stop them. Samantha halted momentarily, spun around, and fired two more shots down the darkened corridor, hoping to slow the Seirenes down, if nothing else. When she turned back to make her escape, she was surprised to run straight into the back of Jack, who had halted near the rickety old staircase that led up to freedom. Samantha followed his gaze up the stairs and felt her hopes
dashed.
Standing in the middle of the stairs towered Calithea Panagakos, looking like an Amazon goddess. She, like her companions, was unclothed with her black hair draped delicately on her shoulders. However, where the bodies of the other two Seirenes had been perfection incarnate, Calithea’s body bordered on the divine. Adonia and Kallista had physical beauty that was unimaginable, but Calithea had something else. She had a poise and sophistication that elevated her beauty above that of the other two Seirenes. As intense as Calithea’s beauty may have been, Samantha found her attention drawn more to the limp body within the woman’s grasp. The face was drooped away from view, but the detective instantly recognized her partner, his arms and legs dangling like a lifeless doll. Samantha’s only consolation was that he appeared to still be alive, barely.
“I found this pathetic creature roaming around the second floor,” Calithea said.
With a quick thrust of her arms, she expelled Peter’s slack body over the railing, sending it crashing against the stacked wooden crates. The jangle of gold coins and jewelry echoed through the cellar as the crates shifted with the impact, and Peter’s torso came to rest hard on the cold floor. Samantha felt torn between rushing to her partner’s side to assess his injuries, and emptying the remaining bullets from her Glock into Calithea Panagakos. But she didn’t have time to do either. In the mayhem of the past few seconds, she had forgotten the other two Seirenes, who emerged from the dark passage behind Jack and Samantha. With a swift swing of her arm, Adonia made her presence felt when the back of her hand impacted the side of Samantha’s head. The detective hit the ground hard and slid across the floor into the stone wall. Losing grip on her gun, the firearm clattered onto the floor, out of Samantha’s reach. Jack spun and ducked in time to avoid Kallista’s fist, which was aimed at his head. But the Seirene quickly compensated for the missed opportunity by driving her knee into Jack’s groin, sending him to the floor writhing in pain.
Sirens in the Night Page 22
