Siren Song (Blood Singer #2)

Siren Song (Blood Singer #2) Page 53

It was a desperate plan, with every chance of failure. Still, it had the advantage of being simple, elegant, with success mostly dependent upon superior firepower. Of course I wasn’t getting any firepower. The assumption was that we’d all be searched when they brought me in, so I was weaponless.

Can I say how much I thought that sucked?

“What the fuck?” Kevin didn’t bother to keep the frustration and rage from his voice. The car began to slow. Terrific. We hadn’t even gotten out of the car yet and something was going wrong with the plan.

I felt the car come to a halt and heard the whir of the window going down.

The man’s voice was a Darth Vader imitation. He was using a voice synthesizer so he couldn’t be recognized. That meant it was either someone I knew or someone Kevin did. “Cut the engine and step out of the car.”

“Hello, gentlemen. What’s up?” Kevin was trying to keep cool, but I could sense his emotions. He was lividly angry and scared. I didn’t like it. He was the person everybody else feared. After a second or two of silence he turned off the car, apparently instructed by hand motions. He spoke one more sentence before the door handle jiggled from the outside: “What’s the problem?”

A wave of power hit me like a sledgehammer as soon as the word “problem” left his mouth. The magic holding me back was released so suddenly it was all I could do not to give the game away by gasping or opening my eyes.

The Darth Vader voice spoke again: “Out. Get out. Now.”

I heard the car door open, felt it shift as Kevin climbed out. I wanted so badly to move, to do something. But my one advantage right now was the fact that they thought I was unconscious. I had to bide my time and wait for the right moment. The truth was that I wasn’t positive I could move yet. My hands and feet were bound. My seat belt was on. And the drugs hadn’t worked their way out of my system.

Warren’s voice in my ear, sounding afraid: “Celia. What’s happening? I heard Kevin release you. What’s wrong?”

I cracked open my eyes a bare slit. An armed guard was watching me through the window. So I didn’t dare answer. Not out loud at any rate.

“Hands against the car.” I felt the car shift as Kevin put his weight on his hands against the hood. “Feet spread and back.” They were frisking him and the search was apparently pretty damn fruitful.

Warren. I still wasn’t very good at talking mind-to-mind, but I’d learned enough during my brief stay with the sirens to manage it. I tried to picture El Jefe’s face, tried to think of my words being written on paper and stuffed in his ear canal. I just hoped Eirene wasn’t listening, or things were going to go even further south than they already had. They had a roadblock set up. They’re frisking Kevin now. I’m faking still being unconscious.

“Do you know where you are?” Warren’s voice was an urgent hiss. Yay, I got through.

Faking unconsciousness, eyes closed. Even mentally it sounded bitchy. Then again, I wasn’t precisely the happiest camper at the moment.

“Celia, we have reinforcements, but they’re outside the warehouse. I have to know where to send them.”

I was deciding how best to go about it when I heard the first male voice give another order.

“Check the girl.”

Hang up Warren, now.

The door next to me opened. If I could’ve moved I might have used the advantage of surprise to fight. There were obviously problems with that. First, they were armed, I wasn’t. Neither was Kevin. And while I might want to kill him, I didn’t want them to do it. Too, even if I got away, the same basic problem remained. They had Emma. Our best chance at getting her back was to stick with Warren and Kevin’s plan. Warren, have them use magic to trace us.

I couldn’t move, at least not well enough to fight. Warren’s curse might have lifted, but the drugs hadn’t worn off. I let my eyes fly open, but that was the most I could manage. I had no choice but to sit there, utterly limp, as a strange man ran his hands all over my body. I fought down a wave of rage and panic. I tried to scream, I couldn’t help it. Too many memories. But all that came out was a whistling squeak that wouldn’t even carry outside the car. At least this wasn’t personal—some sadistic treasure hunter getting his jollies. It was just business. He was thorough, too, even to the point of running his fingers through my hair checking to make sure nothing had been hidden in it. He found the earpiece.

“She’s clean. She was wearing a phone, but the line is dead and she can’t talk anyway.”

“You sure?”

“She tried to scream when I searched her.”

“Bound?”

“Duct tape, hands and feet. Can’t tell whether it’s spelled or not.”

“Hands in front or behind the back?”

“In front.” My guy sounded disgusted by that. Apparently he was a pro and knew better. There are so many things you can do, even bound, if your hands are in front of you, and there’s a much better chance of escape.

Kevin’s voice came next, calm and clear. “There was no point in hurting her. It was just a precaution in case the drugs wore off more quickly than they should. Her metabolism is pretty weird. Besides,” he continued, “you know as well as I do that it’s hard to get the body to sit right in the car seat with the arms behind the back. I didn’t want to get pulled over by the cops.”

The grunt from the man next to me might have been an acknowledgment. It couldn’t have been exertion from lifting me out of the car. I’m not that heavy.

He threw me over his shoulder like a sack of grain. My head hung down nearly to his waist. The drugs were wearing off, but I had a horrible case of cottonmouth and my head was throbbing in time with each of his steps, to the point where I was in real danger of tossing my cookies. That would be bad with tape over my mouth. It would be easy to choke to death. Of course, I was facedown, so likely all that would happen is that the vomit would pool my sinuses and run out my nose.

Ick.

I tried to get my bearings with no success. Two men appeared from a hiding place next to the road, which was blocked by a pair of black SUVs. The first climbed into the Miata and took off, with the SUVs trailing it. The second man strolled over to our group.

“Should’ve put her in the trunk.”

“Have you seen what passes for the trunk of a Miata? No way she’d fit.” Kevin sounded disgusted. A couple of the men laughed shortly.

There were six of them. They cuffed Kevin, using handcuffs with hefty enough spells that I could feel the magic from ten feet away. Even so, they made sure that four men surrounded him, staying out of reach, weapons at the ready. A werewolf is no laughing matter. The man carrying me stayed well back and behind him. The man from the road, with his very businesslike semiauto, followed.

The scrub brush that lined both sides of the road gave way to loose rock, sand, and cactus. We were climbing. The man carrying me was breathing hard but didn’t say anything. Then again, neither did anybody else. The whole march was eerily silent; even the creatures native to this place had gone still at our approach. I was thinking hard, trying to figure out who to call for help and what landmarks to give them. There weren’t any. Desert covers a lot of territory in Southern California. We were far enough away from the bulk of the city that light pollution was minimal but not so far out that there weren’t still a few warehouses.

There was a definite chill to the breeze and the sky overhead was a rich indigo blue. I could see more stars than you ever catch sight of in town. I tried to find the North Star to orient myself, but it was too much effort to move my head and neck even that much. Which meant I had no freaking idea where I was. None.

Kevin, where are we?

I spoke in his mind. But it was Eirene who answered me, just before I felt a wall of power cut us off from outside help. It locked us down so that no magic, not even telepathy, would be able to penetrate.

The words she spoke raised every hair on my body: A place where no one will hear you scream.

25

Wow, that was nicely melodramatic. Had she been watching old movies or was that just her natural bent?

Sarcasm isn’t going to save you.

No. But it’ll keep me occupied while I ponder ways of kicking your ass. Hollow bragging in the face of disaster? Quite possibly. Then again, maybe not. Because I might be unarmed and physically helpless, but I wasn’t completely out of options.

The guy carrying me was really struggling now. It wasn’t so much the uneven ground as the sand combined with loose rocks. Made getting stable footing a bitch, which put more strain on the muscles. One of the reasons I run on the soft part of the beach is that the give in the sand works your legs harder than a firm surface does.

“Is there a problem, Barnes?”

“Nah, I’ve got it. At least she isn’t struggling. What’d you give her anyway?”

Kevin answered cheerfully, “Combination of drugs and a curse. She can be hell on wheels when she’s pissed and I didn’t want to deal with it.”

If we both got out of this mess alive, he sure as hell would be dealing with it. Thinking about going toe-to-toe with him gave me another little bit of incentive. I don’t trust people, but I’d trusted him. My mistake. One I wouldn’t be making again.

We stopped at the top of a rocky ridge. A narrow trail snaked down the steep incline to a narrow valley. I twisted a little and craned my neck to get as much of a look around as I could. I saw a trio of tents in a semicircle, their entrances facing a large campfire that had been surrounded by a stone ring, just like they taught us to do in Girl Scouts. My eyes shifted into vampire hyperfocus and I could see Emma’s body, curled in a fetal position on the ground.

Eirene was sitting on a director’s chair next to Emma’s head, holding a stick into the fire. She was roasting marshmallows. Roasting marshmallows! You have got to be fucking kidding me.

Her voice in my head was rich with amusement: I like toasted marshmallows. And it gave me something to do while I waited.