Siren Song (Blood Singer #2)

Siren Song (Blood Singer #2) Page 54

What have you done to Emma?

Don’t take that tone with me, Celia. You’re not a princess here. Just a victim.

I’m not really a princess anywhere. And I’m nobody’s victim.

We’ll see about that. She looked up at us and her smile was chilling. Setting aside the roasting stick, she stood. Reaching into her pocket, she pulled out a ceramic disk about the size of a quarter. There was a sigil on it.

My blood ran cold at the sight and I fought down a wave of nausea. A summoning disk. No doubt made for the sole purpose of bringing forth a certain major demon.

You’d think I’d be used to the idea. After all, I’d been facing the demonic more than most militant priests lately. But it’s just not something you get used to. Particularly not when you know for a fact that said demon has been making specific plans just for you.

My mouth went dry and I fought not to show just how terrified that little disk made me. Fought and failed. Because Eirene was a telepath. She could hear the fear in my mind. To my shock, the look of pure anticipatory evil it brought to her face wasn’t entirely hers.

The demon. She hadn’t summoned him yet, but the connection between them had reached a point where soon, very soon, she wouldn’t need to. She would be his permanent open door to this dimension.

She had to be stopped. Oh hell, who was I kidding? She had to be killed. Because killing her was the only way to seal the breach. Unfortunately, all sirens are about as hard to kill as Stefania had been.

I was thinking all this as our merry little band made its way down the treacherous trail to the camp. As I thought, I was testing my muscles. I was beginning to be able to move. The adrenaline pumping through my system at the thought of the demon was beginning to drive off the effects of the drugs. I felt a chill breeze blow gently against me, ruffling my hair. First one, then two. Both ghosts were here?

Part of me was relieved and part of me was sad. I’d actually panicked a little when I’d woken up from the exorcism. I’d been angry at Vicki, yes. But I’d been devastated that I hadn’t been able to say good-bye to Ivy. I guess in my mind, she’s not really dead. It’s more like she’s grown up and moved on with her life and sometimes comes back to visit. And then everything’s just like when we were little. The same bantering, the same old jokes. In reality, she’s been a ghost for a lot longer than she was a human. I know it’s best for her to move on. Maybe it’s me that’s keeping her here rather than her staying to finish something.

I waited until we reached a sharp turn where the track was narrowest. Kevin and all of his guards were around the bend, leaving just me and Barnes on this side. He was actually panting now. I knew he was too focused on his goal to notice the ghosts or much of anything else.

I managed to croak out a bare whisper, telling them what I wanted. “Sandstorm, on my signal.” Then I began carefully working my wrists back and forth, using vampire strength to try to loosen my bindings. At first I couldn’t feel any progress at all. But as we neared the campfire I felt the tiniest give.

Barnes wasn’t exactly gentle, dropping me to the ground next to the fire. It knocked the wind out of me with a sharp whoosh. In a blur of movement Eirene rose from her chair, rushed to where I lay, and kicked me in the gut as hard as she could. I rolled over, curling into a ball, and gasped out the word, “Now.”

I wasn’t curled up from the pain, although the kick had hurt. But this way nobody could see me tearing my hands free. It was working. I just needed a little more time. Even with both ghosts working together, it was going to take them time to do what I wanted. If they could.

“Oh no, Cousin.” Eirene raised a hand and I felt a burst of magic erupt in the air like firecrackers. “I’ve seen too well what your guardian spirits can do. They’re not invited to this little party.” A shield dropped around the group. I knew that protection against spirits existed. Many houses in Hollywood Hills had them, where murders and suicides had been rampant in the early days of film.

I could feel Ivy racing around the boundaries of the circle, attacking it from every angle. She was wearing herself out quickly in her panic. But Vicki was just hovering, right where she’d been following me.

Could ghosts plan? Was she still clairvoyant enough to be biding her time, waiting for a specific event to occur?

Kevin’s voice found my ears. It used to be that his voice calmed me. Now it just made me feel cold inside. “I’ve done what you asked. Give me Emma and let us go.”

Bastard.

Eirene curled up one lip in a sneer. I knew damned well she hadn’t planned to let Emma go. Why would she? “Beg me.”

Even as she spoke, I felt a wind starting to build and circle, tasted the first hint of dust on my tongue. How could that be? I could still feel the spell. It seemed odd that Eirene hadn’t noticed the light breeze, because there shouldn’t be any wind at all inside the bubble of the casting. Or had I just imagined it?

I stared into the pitch-darkness, looking for any hint of an entry point. When I found it, I smiled. She’d crafted the spell wrong, or at least hadn’t made herself clear to the mage who did. She’d made certain that nothing could get in that hadn’t been here when they dropped the curtain. She’d planned for things trying to get in, not things trying to get out. The lowliest of creatures was going to be her downfall if this worked the way I wanted it to. A little scorpion was out for its evening hunt and they’re surprisingly good diggers. One minute it was inside the shield. The next minute it was out, and two sparkling phantoms slid in along the path the insect had made. The larger spirit rose high into the air and the smaller one followed, creating the breeze I’d felt. People so seldom look up that it was a perfect place to hide in plain sight.

“What the hell are you talking about? I’m not going to beg you to do what you’ve already agreed to. Release Emma and let me take her.” Kevin always got mad when he’d been tricked. Warren was the same way. Of course, had they involved me, I could probably have mentioned all this.

Eirene’s voice was silken and unpleasant. She was really enjoying herself. “I would, but there’s this little problem.” Eirene turned to face him. “You failed to deal in good faith. There was a trap set up at the warehouse. If I hadn’t anticipated that, this whole situation could have gone very, very wrong.” She shook her head in mock sorrow. “I did warn you not to try anything. But some men just can’t resist playing the hero. I’ve no doubt my demon friend will enjoy using your sister as an appetizer prior to the main course.”

It explained the fetal ball that Emma was in. If she was actually seeing what was going to happen if the demon got loose . . . dear God.

I’d been working my hands the whole time. Finally, the tape tore. The ripping noise wasn’t loud, but I held my breath, waiting to see if Eirene would notice. She didn’t. She was too busy toying with Kevin.

“You bitch.” Kevin spit the words at her and then lunged, an inhuman growl rising from his throat.

Eirene’s expression darkened. I don’t know why the swearing angered her. I mean, seriously, she had to have heard it before and it certainly was richly deserved. Then again, sanity wasn’t her strong suit anymore—if it ever had been. She turned to Barnes. “Shoot him. But to wound, not kill. For that insult, he gets to watch them die.”

A pair of gunshots. Kevin screamed. I smelled blood and worse and my stomach heaved even as the glands at the back of my mouth tightened hungrily.

That finally pissed Vicki off. Kevin wasn’t her favorite person, but there was no way in heaven or hell that she was going to let Emma be tortured by a demon.

In the space of an eyeblink the temperature dropped and a pressure vacuum sucked air upward so that it was hard to breathe. The fire guttered in an instant of utter stillness before gale-force winds drove sand and debris into a swirling vortex that blotted out the night.

“Noooo!” Eirene screamed as she hit at the wind uselessly. Apparently she’d realized what I already had: in order to banish the spirits, she’d have to drop the spell circle. Of course, she couldn’t do that and still raise the demon, so she was quite literally screwed.

Dirt and debris peppered my face and arms, slicing away most of the hair on my skin like an electric sander. I had to narrow my eyes to slits or risk being blinded. The world had become a painful, seething brown soup inside a pressure kettle. I could barely hear Eirene’s scream of rage over the howl of the sand-laden winds that staggered her like a blow. Through slitted eyes I watched her reach into her pocket, knew what she intended to do.

“No!” I gasped as I launched myself forward. Grabbing her ankle, I pulled with every ounce of vampire, siren, and human strength I possessed. She went down and I saw the disk fly from her fingers before her body slammed against the unforgiving earth hard enough to stun her. I used that precious instant to crawl on top of her. Sand blasted against my skin as I pulled her gun from its holster. Heavy objects were being blown now, too—sticks, rocks, and chunks of cactus slammed into my body. I could barely see. Tears were streaming down my face. But I switched off the safety and pointed the gun between those startlingly beautiful eyes.

I saw her start to regain her strength, saw realization and consciousness flow back into her eyes. And as I watched her gather herself for one last desperate fight I thought of Bruno.

Of him singing in the shower. Her shower.

Of him in her bed, having sex, looking down at her and smiling.

I gathered every image I could imagine of the two of them together, focusing them, making them real, until jealousy filled me like water fills a cup.

It took just a second too long. She fought with the desperation of the doomed and damned. She began clawing, kicking, and biting: raining blows on my body, bucking and squirming. She screamed out nearly unpronounceable words and I felt the barrier surrounding the encampment go down. The sudden release of pressure hit me hard, the equivalent of a pocket of turbulence on a plane ride. The wind rushed out and the sand with it.

She struck.