Page 11

CHAPTER 10

F intan watched Odessa’s house from across the street. His ancestors were active in his head, but they spoke in hushed whispers as if arguing amongst themselves. Ignoring them, he continued his vigil. At any second, Narissa might sashay her arse out the door, but he doubted she would. The niggling feeling she was in trouble wouldn’t go away. Yet, walking in their aunt’s residence without a clear idea of the future would see him dead.

Female Sirens were stronger than males, their song ten times more potent and alluring. In demon form, men had the advantage, but only if they were crafty enough. There, he’d freely admit if asked, women were more intelligent and diabolical, in general.

“What does Odessa want?” he asked aloud, hoping the ancestors would pull their heads from their arses and give him a clue. Odds were they wouldn’t. They were undoubtedly still salty at him from the week’s reprieve and his association with Taryn.

“Bloodstone’s necklace.” Uncle Peter’s whisper brushed along his skin, raising the hair at his nape.

“And if she gets it?” he asked.

“My sister is a mad cow. She’ll take it into her head to go after the big fishes: the Aether, the Death Dealer, the Guardians… you.”

“And she’d likely win, yeah?” He didn’t wait for an answer. They both knew an amped-up Odessa would kill him. “Is Narissa alive?”

“Aye, but she’s imprisoned. Odessa utilized the ley lines and created a cage.”

“How do I?—”

“Do you frequently stand on the street and talk to yourself, cher ?”

“Jaysus!” Fintan’s heart was pumping so fast it could’ve performed a drum solo at a heavy metal concert. “Where the feck did you come from?”

Draven’s smirk was annoying as fuck. “Your girlfriend called.”

“She’s not.”

“I’ll let Creed know. I believe he’s interested if you aren’t.”

“Sure, and I’ll rip his head from those freakishly broad shoulders and spit down his windpipe if he so much as looks at her.”

Draven chuckled. “I’ll be sure to inform him of your penchant for violence.”

“Aye. You do that, ya scut.” Fintan refocused on Odessa’s Victorian house and noted the similarities to Taryn’s family home. Perhaps his original distaste stemmed from knowing what lay behind the doors of the one across the street. “My cousin’s in there. Trapped.”

“Narissa’s trapped?” Draven’s tone sharpened, and he stepped forward as if to get a better look. “Creed didn’t mention that little tidbit. He only said she was gone a long while.”

Fintan tapped his temple. “Uncle Peter.”

“What else did Uncle Peter tell you?”

“Odessa is a mad cow, and she’s after bigger fish, like Damian, you, and me,” he replied grimly.

“Did he say how we’re supposed to retrieve Narissa?”

“No. Only that the ley lines created a cage. I was conversin’ with him when you frightened years off me feckin’ life.” Fintan shot him a wry glance before returning his gaze to the house. “I’ve forgotten my ring, but now that you’re here, you can try the link to Narissa, yeah?”

“Here.” Draven slid the tanzanite ring off his pinky and handed it over. “Don’t say I never gave you anythin’, cher .”

“Ah, the feckin’ gift I’ve always wanted, it is. Where are you goin’?”

“To retrieve yours. Where is it?”

“My bedroom. Ask Brenna to find it.”

Draven gave a single nod. “Don’t do anything stupid while I’m gone. Rescuing one of you is challenging enough.”

“Aye. I’ll wait unless Narissa’s injured. I’ll not be leavin’ her to Odessa’s mercy.”

“Fair enough, cher . I’ll let the others know.”

Fintan latched onto his wrist. “Not Taryn. I’ll thank you to send her home, Masters. She’s stubborn and after insertin’ herself in the fray, but I’ll not have her hurt because she’s weaker than us.”

“She can decide for herself, Fin. I’m not about to tell a capable female what to do or not to.”

The rebuke in his friend’s tone was telling, and he didn’t love sounding like a sexist bastard. Yet the idea of Taryn being injured didn’t bear thinking about.

“Draven?”

“Yes?”

“Be sure to cloak when you’re comin’ and goin’. It’s better to keep Odessa guessin’ about our numbers.”

“Well, look at you, considerin’ all the angles instead of chargin’ in with fists at the ready!” Draven drawled.

“Sure, and you can feck all the way off,” Fintan growled.

“For the record, your woman believed you’d take the intelligent route and think things through.”

Warmth filled him, and he paused his surveillance to look at Draven. “She did?”

“Yes. Said you’d want a carefully crafted plan before going in. Looks like she knows you better than anyone, hm?”

* * *

Pissed didn’t begin to describe Narissa’s mood. Odessa had tricked her, which was a rarity in itself. Stuck in a high-voltage prison, her only option for freedom was to shape-shift into her Siren. Yet doing so would make her vulnerable to her aunt’s attack.

“I swear, this time, I’m going to snap your turkey-wattled neck, you beak-nosed?—”

“Such language, Narissa.” Odessa’s disproving tone was followed by a tsk-tsk. “My dear sister raised you girls better than that.”

“Don’t you dare mention my mother, you magic-stealing, prune-faced—ahhhh!” The shock was instantaneous, and Narissa spasmed as electricity coursed through her body, mentally cursing herself for being caught unaware. She entered the house knowing Odessa wasn’t to be trusted, yet she fell for her staged fall like an unsuspecting newborn.

“Manners, girl. If you fail to keep a civil tongue, I’ll fry it out of your head.”

As she lay on the ground, taking stock of all her limbs and praying to the Goddess she hadn’t wet herself, Narissa swore a silent oath that she’d murder Odessa the first chance she got. No way was that horrid wench living to torture another person!

She swiped her wrist across her mouth and wiped away the drool. Simply performing the gesture fueled her rage, but she needed to keep her Siren contained. If the creature felt threatened, she’d emerge. Though she’d always suspected hers was stronger than Odessa’s, they’d never been pitted against each other. And she was trapped at the moment, allowing her aunt the advantage and to syphon magic.

Her only hope was Taryn and Creed. They knew where she’d gone, and if she didn’t return by nightfall, they’d send someone after her. Narissa didn’t dare dream Creed would care one way or the other. Yet he answered to Damian, and he’d feel compelled to save her if only to stay in the Aether’s good graces. It seemed Damian Dethridge was the only person Creed maintained a healthy respect for.

Creed .

She should’ve never distanced herself to keep her position at the Authority. All these years later, she still hadn’t discovered who’d set him up to take the fall for the break-in at HQ. Perhaps their relationship had been unearthed, and whoever was responsible purposely kept her in the dark—if only to cover their ass.

“Why so sad, dear?” Odessa taunted. “Your cousins will come for you.”

“I hope they don’t. Then you won’t get your hands on Bloodstone’s necklace.”

“You and Fintan were inseparable as children. You’re the closest thing he has to a sister. He’ll come,” her aunt assured her, and the unwavering confidence scraped Narissa’s nerves raw.

“Last I checked, he was in stasis, so it’s doubtful.” She shrugged and cast Odessa a pitying glance. “Your pathetic attempts to preserve your life are—ahhh!” Gritting her teeth against the pain, Narissa prayed she wouldn’t stroke out or suffer a heart attack from so many electrocutions.

“Sadistic bitch,” she muttered.

“Would you care for another jolt, girl?”

With a shake of her head, she moderated her tone and asked, “Why do you want Fintan’s new necklace? What good will it do you?”

A rare vulnerability flashed across Odessa’s visage before she quickly pasted on her standard arrogant expression. “That’s none of your concern.”

“I beg to differ, sugar. It concerns me greatly since you practically hog-tied me and slapped butter on my backside for this little barbeque.” She deepened her Southern drawl to annoy her uptight aunt. “Why, the only thing missin’ is an apple between my teeth!”

Odessa’s lips tightened. “My intent was never to torture you, but you can’t keep your smart mouth shut long enough to see reason.”

Narissa studied her for a long moment, for the first time seeing her aunt’s underlying sadness. Having lost her only sibling, she was no stranger to grief and loneliness. Was that what Odessa was feeling? The pain of losing all her family and having no one left to care about her? She’d chased off Brenna a few years back, and living conditions had to have been terrible if her sweet-as-pecan-pie niece had bolted. A more loyal person didn’t exist than Brenna.

“What is it you want, Auntie O?” Narissa asked tiredly, feeling three times her forty-seven years. She’d lost too much to their stupid Sullivan “gifts.” Her twin, her mother, friends… Creed . Shaking off her melancholy, she sighed. “Tell me so we can be done with this. You want my magic? Fine. If you can take it without killing me, it’s yours.”

Odessa’s shock held her immobile, and her response was drastically different than any Narissa might’ve anticipated.

“What the bloody hell is wrong with ya?” Odessa dropped her upper-crust accent and adopted the Irish dialect of her youth. “Are ya a feckin’ eejit, then? Ya don’t go offerin’ your magic up—ever! And certainly not without a payoff, ya daft?—”

Compressing her lips, Odessa clomped away, her cane tapping out her agitation.

“Sure, and that’s one way to clear a room.” Fintan’s voice in her head surprised Narissa so badly, she almost did what her aunt’s shock treatment failed to do and wet herself.

“Holy crispy critters!” she hissed.

“Keep your words contained inside your mind, yeah?” he warned.

“You surprised me. I thought you were in stasis. And don’t forget, if she concentrates, she can tap into our thoughts. We all share a connection, sugar.”

“Aye, I’d forgotten. And the ancestors decided they were done torturin’ me for a wee bit.” He paused before adding, “Tell me what’s happenin’ with you. Has she hurt ya?”

“Nothing too serious. Electric shock treatment by way of the ley lines.”

His outrage curled her lips. Fintan would never admit it, but he had a hero complex. His biggest upset was if women and children were hurt.

“And why haven’t the ancestors allowed you to access that same power grid?” he asked.

“Don’t rightly know, but I suspect she’s concocted some sort of spell to harness their magic.”

“Uncle Peter just said it’s why they released me. They didn’t have enough to hold me and you at the same time.”

Narissa snorted, then glanced at the doorway, hoping like hell her aunt hadn’t heard. “Then maybe you should come in here, sugar, and bust me out. The two of us in this little ol’ cage would short-circuit their grid for sure.”

“It’s not the worst idea, to be sure. Hang on.”

Their connection fizzled and snapped before going silent.

“Fintan?” Why the hell was she worried about him when she was the one imprisoned? Still, he was her best chance to get the hell out of this creepy-ass place.

“He’s fine, Nari,” her mother said from beside her, giving her another fright.

For pity’s sake, when had she become so jumpy?

“But I’ll be urging you both to be careful,” Doreen told her. “My sister is not in her right mind.”

“I miss you so much, Mama,” she whispered.

“I’m always around, my love. You’ve only to summon me.”

But summoning required using her Sullivan gifts, and Narissa hated that side of herself. The constant battle to be perfect so she didn’t take an irrevocable step and hurt another. Yes, she used her Siren for Damian, and for the Authority before him in her capacity as a spy. Yet never to steal. Never anything that would turn her into the horrendous monster her aunt now was.

Tears burned her eyes as she stared up at her mother. They’d missed so many years when she’d run away.

“Thirty. It’s been thirty years since you’ve returned home,” Doreen said, as if she’d plucked the thought from Narissa’s mind. “I wish you’d stayed.”

“But you’re glad I didn’t?” she hazarded a guess. She didn’t want to tell her mother this haunted heap had never truly been her home. In all the time she’d lived there, she’d felt Odessa’s ghostly victims lingering.

Her mother nodded. “She’d have found a way to drain you, too.”

“So all this”—Narissa waved to encompass the cage—“is about gaining more?”

“Yes and no. She’ll explain as soon as Fintan arrives.”

Narissa’s brows shot up. “I said he should join me. Should I not have?”

“I’ve already sent him an invitation, girl,” Odessa said from the doorway. Fintan lurked beside her, none too pleased to be there. “He understands the terms.”

“What terms?”

“For your release.” Her aunt narrowed her eyes at Fintan. “He’s agreed. No tricks.”

“Aye, now release her,” he growled.

“Not until I get Bloodstone’s necklace. Until then, crawl back into the hole you came out of.”

“No!” Narissa knew fuck all about the pendant, but if Odessa wanted the blasted thing, it couldn’t be good.

“Too late, girl. Siren’s creed, and a deal’s a deal!”