by A
He rose with a sigh. ―No, I don‘t. But I pray you‘re wrong. Because Dahlmar‘s determined
to do this. And if you‘re right, everyone on that plane is going to be dead meat.‖
―Get some rest,‖ I told him. ―I‘m going to go talk to my aunt.‖
20
I hate flying. Big plane, small plane, private, public, it really doesn‘t matter. I hate it. This time
I hated it more than usual when I found out that Stefania and Ren had teleported ahead to ―get
things ready‖ and wouldn‘t be flying with us. I‘d have felt more secure having Stefania right
here where I could both keep an eye on her and have her as sort of a hostage to good behavior.
Still, I couldn‘t fault the jet. It was midsized and very nice. Even nicer than Creede‘s car,
which was saying something. Adriana was rightfully proud of it. I just hoped it wasn‘t going to
be a really nice coffin.
The plan had changed slightly. Britain is an island and the British have very old, very secret,
ties to the sirens. Queen Lopaka had called in a favor from that other queen. The switch would
take place on a military airstrip. No one on our side knew, other than the family: Queen
Lopaka, Adriana, and me. It felt really weird, but I had to admit I was glad to be included. We
would keep it that way until the last possible moment, so we could watch all parties for signs
of trouble.
The head of the task force, Harry Thompson, had introduced himself and his men to those of
us civilians who were coming along. While he hadn‘t said a word against us, his approach had
somehow made it abundantly clear that he wasn‘t happy to be joined by a bunch of amateurs,
however well armed, and that we‘d damned well better stay out of his people‘s way. He‘d then
disembarked and made a nose-to-tail inspection of the aircraft. Creede had already checked for
magical problems, but that didn‘t stop Thompson and his men from checking again.
The task force‘s mage was at least equal to Creede and just shy of Bruno‘s talent. At first the
two men had watched each other with skepticism that bordered on hostility. Then they‘d
started crafting, and their hostility turned first to grudging acceptance of each other‘s talent and
then to open admiration.
Everything else that could be done was being done. Still, I found myself squirming in my
seat, wishing I were anywhere but here.
I didn‘t have to do this. I could get up, walk out, leave King Dahlmar and the others to
whatever fate awaited them. Thompson would be thrilled to see me go. One less civilian to
worry about. I‘m a bodyguard, not a magician, and not—I repeat not—an elite ops soldier. I
could even justify it by saying that the death curse on me put everyone in more danger.
Nobody would argue, nobody would blame me.
Nobody but me.
If I walked out now and everything went to hell—literally—I‘d spend the rest of my life
trying to live with the guilt. I‘m still dealing with two deaths like that: Ivy and Bob Johnson.
Every day I wake up I still wonder—what if I‘d done this, or hadn‘t done that. I might not be
able to make this mission a success, but I could protect King Dahlmar with my life.
Somewhere in the course of gathering my courage I‘d closed my eyes. I opened them at the
sound of a soft cough to find Hiwahiwa standing in front of me, wearing a more casual version
of the lavalava in green with a leaf pattern. Even without makeup she had an undeniable
beauty. She looked excruciatingly uncomfortable and hesitant to interrupt, but frankly, I was
glad for the distraction. Now that I‘d made up my mind to stay, I needed something to keep me
from thinking too much.
―Can I help you with something?‖
She flushed and I wondered what I‘d said wrong.
―There is a teenager outside named Okalani. She claims to have an appointment to meet
with you.‖
Oh, crap. The kid. I’d said I’d talk to her. But I hadn‘t had time, not with everything that
was going on. And now we were leaving and there was a good chance we wouldn‘t be coming
back.
―I‘m sorry, Hiwahiwa. I‘ve been so busy. . . .‖
―I realize you are leaving and there isn‘t much time. But this matters so much to her—‖
―No, it‘s all right. We don‘t have a lot of time, but I‘ll do what I can.‖
I hadn‘t even finished speaking when the kid stepped out of the empty air in front of me,
trying not to look scared in her very hip low-rise jeans and neon green tank top. She was
prettier than I remembered, and young. So damned young that she made me feel ancient.
Everybody out of the plane now. Adriana‘s voice sounded in my head and everyone around
me rose with an urgency just short of flat-out panic. Something had gone terribly wrong.
Before we could move toward the exits, I felt the world lurch sideways and every person on
the plane was suddenly standing on the tarmac a hundred yards or so from the jet. Which gave
us all a perfect view of the fireball when it exploded.
21
―I don‘t like this, Celia.‖ Queen Lopaka‘s voice was cold and harsh. Two spots of red had
appeared high on her cheeks and I wouldn‘t have been surprised if the storm gray of her eyes
would‘ve been flashing with lightning, given her expression. ―If it had not been for pure
chance and Okalani‘s extraordinary talent, I would have lost my daughter and many of my
people. We have a traitor in our midst. Proceeding further is simply too much of a risk.‖
We were in the palace, in the beautifully appointed office where Queen Lopaka did the work
of running the siren kingdoms. The floor was covered with thick carpet the color of sand,
carpet that felt the same underfoot as walking across a quiet beach. Two entire walls were
windowed, looking out over manicured gardens and, in the distance, the Pacific. There were
curtains, but I got the impression they were seldom closed. I would‘ve had to close them. The
view would‘ve been too distracting. I‘d never get anything done.
Now, however, I was having no trouble focusing at all. Because the queen and I were having
issues. ―I understand, Your Majesty.‖ I kept my eyes down, my voice even. ―But the jet had
been inspected, thoroughly inspected, by your people and mine just minutes before. The only
way someone could‘ve planted that bomb was by teleporting.‖
―There are others with that capability.‖
And thank God for that, I thought. But I didn‘t say it. Gran would be so proud. She‘s been
working with me on not mouthing off since prepuberty. Of course I was dealing with a
telepath, so Queen Lopaka probably heard me anyway. Maybe she‘d appreciate the effort.
―You believe that Eirene is the siren involved in Kristoff‘s coup.‖
Hell, yes! Her mother, too. And we only have one chance to defeat them. I kept my lips
zipped, but I thought it loud. Gulls began to swoop outside the window as I got more agitated.
The queen paused, glaring at me. I had told her my suspicions about Ren and Stefania
before. When the evidence was circumstantial, she‘d been willing to take the steps of
switching landing sites ―just in case.‖ Yet now that we knew we were betrayed she was
reluctant, not wanting to risk any of her people on what she considered a bad bet—even if she
might secure a strong European alliance
and flush out a pair of dangerous and highly placed
traitors.
Creede, Adriana, and I were arguing in favor of Plan B: acting as though everyone on board
had died and hiding us out of sight until Kristoff‘s press conference, then having Okalani
teleport us into the middle of it.
It was bold. It was crazy. And it just might work. If the queen would let us do it.
Adriana spoke up. ―Your Majesty . . . Mother. If our enemies believe they‘ve succeeded,
they‘ll let their guard down. If we are going to attempt to help King Dahlmar, this could be a
priceless advantage. I‘ve seen an eighty-five percent chance of success with this new plan.‖
―And if we‘re wrong? If they are innocent?‖
I thought—but quietly— You have got to be kidding me! She couldn‘t be that deep in denial.
What did I have to do to make her believe me? Show her the memories?
Yes. Adriana answered my thought.
Well, shit. Of course. Who could do the deed? Pili was down for the count.
Adriana answered me. I guessed she was projecting to both of us at once given the look in
Queen Lopaka‘s eyes. Nifty.
I can do it. I might not be strong enough to take you through all of your memories, but we
know what to look for now, know when it happened. If I show you, Mother, if you can see this
for yourself, will you give King Dahlmar the aid he seeks?
Queen Lopaka let out a frustrated breath and slammed a fist down on the desk, eyes
flashing. She looked just like . . . me in that moment. Why is this so important to you, Adriana?
Why do you press so?
Adriana let out a low noise that was like a refined growl. Her eyes glinted with righteous
anger. She cursed children, Mother. She brought demons onto the soil of our island. This
cannot be allowed to stand. If in helping ourselves we can help an ally as well, then it is well
and good.
Queen Lopaka stared into her daughter‘s eyes for a long moment. When she finally
answered, it was as if she‘d aged a decade before my eyes. ―Show me.‖
It took very little time. We knew the memory we needed, so there was no searching, no
spooling through my life and the damage the curse had inflicted. Adriana simply took my
memories and played them out as an image above the tropical fish tank against the wall.
Queen Lopaka sat, silent and still, for a long moment after the scene had played out. Neither
Adriana nor I dared move.
When the queen finally spoke, it was in an intense whisper. ―It‘s her. I recognize her, even
without seeing her face. I knew she was desperate for Eirene to rule, knew she was capable of
much to achieve it. But cursing our own children? Such evil—‖ She shook her head and a
single tear trickled down her perfect cheek. ―Dear Goddess. Stefania . . . why?‖
I didn‘t know what to say in the face of her obvious pain. I‘d expected her to be angry. God
knows I was. Then again, for me it was personal.
She wiped the tear away with an impatient gesture and turned to me. ―Do what you will.
You have my support.‖
I gave a low bow and started toward the door. I‘d barely gone three steps when her voice
stopped me. I turned back to see an expression on the queen‘s face that I‘d seen in the mirror
more than once. Contrite, pained. ―I‘m sorry, Celia. I should‘ve believed you. Know that I
would‘ve protected you had I known.‖
There was nothing to do but shrug. ―You didn‘t know.‖
―But I should have.‖ Something in her voice told me that this failure would haunt her for the
rest of her life.
Just like me.
They put us in a large conference room with attached restrooms. Everyone who had been on
the plane was there, along with a couple dozen more of the queen‘s Elite Guard—a special-
forces unit that worked together like a well-oiled machine. Creede is one hell of a mage. His
concentration and attention to detail were impressive. He, the guards, and the mage squad
formed a force to be reckoned with. The minute we were all behind closed doors, the mages set
up a magical perimeter so tight that even Okalani couldn‘t have teleported through it. Nothing
was going to break that barrier: not sound or sight and certainly no magic. The power of it
burned across my senses when I tried to test it, and the air in the room felt thick enough to
drink. My ears actually popped two or three times, adjusting.
I wasn‘t part of the military end of things. The queen had given her orders; General Carson
and his staff were calculating the best means of carrying them out. They went through the plan
minute-by-minute, covering contingencies that might arise and what the response would be.
The loss of the plane, despite their precautions, hadn‘t shaken them as much as made them
angry and even more determined to succeed. Before, they had been content with implying that
the civilians should stay back. Such subtlety had been abandoned now, with Thompson taking
Creede and me aside and bluntly telling us to ―stay the fuck out of our way.‖ They didn‘t like
that we were being brought along. But Okalani was our transport and King Dahlmar had
insisted that Creede and I be his personal bodyguards.
The clairvoyant was starting to display the image of the press conference on a wall of the
conference room when I felt a massive blow hit the shield. It had a pinpoint focus and two of
the mages responsible for the protections nearest the doors fell in their tracks, eyes rolling back
in their heads. A third staggered, only keeping himself upright by force of will—and because
he had a table to lean on.
No one knew what was happening. Medics rushed to aid the fallen. Creede looked grim and
rushed toward the door with me at his heels.
A second blow, followed by a sensation like maggots crawling across my skin. I smelled
sulfur, tasted bile. I started swallowing convulsively to keep the contents of my stomach in my
stomach.
Someone out there meant business. With the shields crumbling I could hear the sound of
fighting in the hall. Gunshots, boomers, and screams of pain were all clear to me.
―What is it?‖ Okalani stared at me wide-eyed.
―Get to the other side of the room, now!‖ I ordered as I pulled the 9mm I‘d been given to
replace my trusty Colt.
―It‘s going to fall,‖ Creede announced. ―I can feel it.‖
―Carson, you hear that?‖
―Civilians to the far side.‖ He barked out other orders and his people moved into place with
crisp efficiency.
Okalani ran to the far side of the room to join Princess Adriana, King Dahlmar, and most of
the others.
Carson sidled up beside me, weapon at the ready. ―You do realize that you‘re technically a
civilian,‖ he said coldly.
―Bite me.‖ I flashed fangs. I felt the shield wavering. It wasn‘t going to last much longer.
Creede‘s grin flashed bright for just an instant, fading as he started counting backward. ―In
three, two, one—‖
The shield fell and the door and a fair part of the wall were blasted into pieces—not by the
demon I‘d been expecting but by good old-fashioned explosives.
The ground shook and I dropped to one knee. The blast deafened me and the combination of
billowing brick dust and smoke was thick enough to make me choke. Chaos reigned. I
could
barely see through my streaming eyes. Adrenaline kicked in and with it vampire powers. My
vision shifted into hyperfocus and time seemed to slow so that it felt as though I had an
eternity to take it all in.
Carson was on one knee beside me. He raised a fist in a signal to hold positions. We froze,
guns ready.
Through the smoke I saw Queen Stefania, with more than a dozen of her personal guard
surrounding her. They had taken out the half dozen of Queen Lopaka‘s Elite Guard who‘d
been hiding behind magic in the hall. But more than a few black-clad bodies were down as
well. Stefania had to know she was almost out of time, that reinforcements were coming. But
she refused to give up. Eyes blazing, she turned and pointed directly at me.
Me? Why me? What the hell?
I used every bit of vampire speed I had to hit my belly and crawl as fast as I could, moving
toward the limited shelter offered by the nearest pile of debris as guns fired, aimed at where I‘d
been an instant before. Whether I‘d moved too quickly or just benefited from the smoke and
confusion, her men lost track of me for a second. I used that second to fire directly at Stefania.
The shots should have taken out most of her chest, but they didn‘t even hit. She had some sort
of shield, a force field protecting her. My bullets just bounced off as she laughed.
Well, wasn‘t that just dandy?
I ducked down again and scurried to another pile of debris as her people turned their sights
on my position.
Our troops had moved forward, cutting off Stefania‘s soldiers, forming a wall of resistance
between them and me. I was grateful for the cover and for the time. I needed to think. We
needed to take down Stefania.
But a force field? That was freaking impossible. No way in hell should she be able to do
that. And then it occurred to me—it was exactly that: the power of hell, the magic of a demon,
protecting her.
The nine clicked empty. I slid it back into its holster. I drew a different pair of weapons and
began moving carefully, keeping under cover as best I could, using the chaos to my advantage.
I couldn‘t get too close. But with the right angle, I didn‘t have to be close. I adjusted my
weapons, gauged the angles, and emptied both One Shots of holy water against her shield.
