Call of the Siren (2 page)

Chapter Two

New York City, Early June

Of the few things that Dagan did exceptionally well, sex was on the top of the list, and it was by far his favorite. The heart-pumping excitement of being with a new woman; the adrenaline rush of uncovering those silky bits of flesh normally hidden by her clothes; the musky scent of their mutual arousal filling the air…nothing beat it. Whenever he was with a woman, the never-ending symphony of songs that filled his head quieted down. But sometimes his overwhelming need to get it on was downright inappropriate.

Like now.

He was supposed to be working. His eldest brother Keegan had sent him to Opiate in an effort to track down information on the dark fae the Elden Council searched for. The dark fae he and his brothers might have apprehended last month if they’d done what the Council had ordered them to. Instead, they had chosen to disregard its commands in order to save the woman his brother Ronin loved. In so doing, they’d pissed the Council off, big-time. In other words, they’d seriously screwed up—no matter how pure their intentions.

So now, their only option was to fix things by finding the dark fae before the Council got fed up and deported them back to their hellish home world of Infernum. That was what had led Dagan to Opiate tonight, but what had landed him in this section of the Otherworldly club was another thing entirely—his stupid dick.

You’re such a dumb shit.

“What?” the chick plastered to his body asked.

Had he said those words aloud?

“Nothing.”

The woman smiled and pushed him back against the wall. Her hair was styled into a spiked pixie cut that accentuated the slight point at the top of her ears. Even with her glamour that made her passable as human, it was obvious to him that she was Elven. When he’d wandered into Opiate, he’d immediately noticed her sitting alone at the bar. She’d been wearing a tiny black tank top and low-slung jeans that showed off a miniscule thong, practically an open invitation for male company. Somehow, he’d ended up joining her. And less than an hour later they’d wound up in the back—which was separated from the rest of the club by a filmy curtain—and she had her top bunched up around her armpits.

No mincing words: people came back here to fuck. Dagan had been here himself on more than one occasion. But he was supposed to be asking questions tonight. Rumor had it a few of the patrons who frequented this very club were now in the dark fae’s employment. Dagan’s mission was to find out what the hell he was planning to do with them.

So why are you back here?

“Everything okay, baby?” she murmured.

The woman—what the hell was her name again?—nuzzled his neck while her hand slid inside his unbuttoned jeans and closed around him.

No, everything wasn’t okay. He was doing it again, resorting to sex whenever he got stressed out about something in his life. Lately there’d only been more and more to worry over. But sex wasn’t the answer. They all needed to focus on repairing the strain with the Council. He couldn’t even begin to imagine how pissed his brothers would be if they saw what he was doing here instead.

So why are you screwing up again?

Something cold and angry slithered around in Dagan’s chest like a poisonous serpent poised to strike, and strains of a hard, bitter song pounded his head. Even though his body was on board at the thought of getting it on with this virtual stranger, as evidenced by the hard-on she caressed, he’d never felt so empty inside. Just more confirmation that he was seriously fucked in the head.

What good was sex if you couldn’t even enjoy it?

The woman pulled back to throw him a vaguely disgusted look. Her bare breasts glimmered in the dim blue lighting of the club, and his cock jumped at the jiggling her movement sparked. “Are you down or not? ’Cause I can’t tell.”

Neither could he, and that wasn’t fair to her. Dagan opened his mouth to tell her…what, that he’d changed his mind? He didn’t even know.

Before he could figure it out, hair spun the color of moonlight caught his eye from beyond the transparent veil separating this section from the rest of the club. He jerked his gaze across the room, and his stomach knotted at the confirmation that the hair belonged to who he thought it did.

Iolina—Lina to those who knew her.

He made a sound in his throat that the chick plastered to his front must have taken for assent, because she grinned and started moving her hand again. Barely paying her any mind, he kept his gaze locked on the woman beyond the veil.

Lina was the adopted sister of his older brother. She had been a part of Ronin’s life before Dagan had known him, back when Ronin had lived with his mother. After their sadistic father had kidnapped Ronin at the age of nine and brought him to live with Dagan and his other brothers, Taeg and Keegan, Ronin hadn’t seen Lina again. Until several months ago, that was, when they’d run into each other by a pure twist of fate.

That was when Dagan had met her.

When Lina pushed the filmy curtain aside and stepped into the back, his hands tensed on Elven-chick’s hips, but before he could push her away, Lina’s searching gaze landed on him. She kept going for a moment before realizing what she’d seen and, with a start, turned her eyes back to him. They narrowed into little slits, and who could blame her? Even though the woman’s back was to Lina, she couldn’t miss that the woman’s top was scrunched up to reveal her chest.

Aw, fuck.

Self-loathing settled in the pit of Dagan’s stomach like a harsh pill, accompanied by the lyrics of Green Day’s hate-filled
Platypus
song. He yanked Elven-chick’s top down over her breasts. Even though Lina couldn’t see it from her angle, he had a feeling she knew exactly where the woman’s hand was. He reached down to disengage it, but the woman fought him, protesting the whole while.

“You can’t seriously tell me you want to stop
now
.”

His gaze still locked on Ronin’s sister, Dagan read the exact moment the shock and disbelief in her eyes morphed into bitter revulsion. Her mouth puckered, and she turned away, dismissing the scene before her with clear disdain.

“Sorry.” Dagan disentangled himself from the woman, ignoring her continued protests, and buttoned himself back into his pants. He surprised himself with the ease of his movements, when deep inside, crippling regret and humiliation fought for dominion.

The worst part of Lina catching him back here wasn’t that she knew his brothers, or that she might tell them what she’d seen. No, it was that his feelings for her were anything but brotherly. Every time he saw her, his heartbeat tripled and curling ribbons of a sweet melody unfolded in his head.

Clearly it was wrong to feel that way about someone his brother considered family, but he couldn’t help himself.

Pull yourself together, dude.

He had to find Lina, and somehow repair the damage he’d caused with his careless actions. Even if the thought of facing her made him want to lay down in shame.

…

Dagan.
Sexy demon hybrid, and sibling to the man Lina had once loved as a brother.

And he hadn’t been alone. A thin blonde had been plastered to his front, blocking a good portion of him from her view. Her tank top had been squished up underneath her armpits, baring the large tramp stamp decorating her lower back, and one hand had rested on his shoulder. The other was out of sight, but the movement of her arm was unmistakable.

When it had struck her that she was watching another woman jack Dagan off, her stomach had turned and a sour taste filled her mouth. She’d jerked her gaze back up to his face, and the chagrin in his eyes broke her out of her shocked daze.

Ew…gross!

She’d then schooled her features into a look of disgust and speared him with it before moving away. But the scene she’d just witnessed insisted on replaying itself in her head. There was no mistaking the intense clenching sensation deep inside her chest.

Envy, burning a vicious hole in her heart.

Stop it. You mean nothing to each other.

He was Ronin’s brother, that was all. But even though she knew that, Lina couldn’t help the way her body responded every time he was near. The shameful pulsing of her heart was eclipsed only by the dampness that covered her thighs. Only one other man had ever elicited such a response.

And look how well that ended.

That thought alone was enough to firm her resolve. There could never be anything between her and Dagan.

Feeling properly chastised, she stepped back out to the main part of the club. Gods, what the hell was she doing in this shithole?

After all the things Lina had seen and done in her twenty-five years of life, she wouldn’t have thought she could be talked into anything. Leave it to her pseudo-adopted brother Ronin to prove her wrong. When he’d asked her to speak with her fellow mercenaries in an effort to get information about the dark fae the Council was tracking, she hadn’t been able to say no. But then, the couple grand he’d offered had done a lot to persuade her.

Lina squashed her guilt at the memory of Ronin’s disappointment when he’d had to resort to offering money in exchange for her assistance. Truth was he had plenty of it, and she needed more. Ronin thought she was a money-grubber—that much was obvious from his expression. And he was right.

But he didn’t know why.

Or what she did with it.

Keeping her eyes firmly away from the section of the club where she’d seen Dagan, Lina continued her search for her contact, Sam.

As she neared the bar, a slimy-looking man in tattered jeans took stock of her outfit, from the dusty rose corset top underneath her black leather jacket to the jeans tucked into her calf-high boots, and made a beeline for her. “Hey sexy, can I buy you a—”

“Fuck off.”

He recoiled, anger transforming his face, but didn’t pursue her. Good for him. She knew just what to do with assholes who couldn’t take no for an answer.

Almost instinctively, her hand crept toward the stiletto knives she carried in a hidden interior pocket of her jacket. Weapons weren’t allowed inside Opiate, but she didn’t give a damn. As long as no one messed with her, they would stay sheathed.

She came to a stop in front of Crull, the gold elf who manned the bar. “Hey, Crull, I’m looking for Sam. Seen him?”

Crull snagged a mug and poured some lager into it. “Saw him around earlier. I’m sure he’s here somewhere.”

“Thanks.” She stalked through the club, searching for Sam’s distinctive black Mohawk. Sam was a lorne demon, as well as a kick-ass mercenary. She’d teamed up with him for a job or two in the past, and he’d been there a month and a half ago when she’d banned together with Ronin and his brothers to take down Asmodeus. The incubus creep had had it coming, of course. He’d enslaved Amara, the woman Ronin loved, along with a handful of other succubi, and had forced them to murder for him.

When Lina had called Sam yesterday, he told her he might know someone who’d done work for a powerful dark fae. They agreed on meeting here tonight, hopefully with his contact in tow.

“Lina!”

Aw, damn.

She groaned at the sound of Dagan’s voice. Couldn’t he just have pretended he hadn’t seen her? The last thing she wanted to do was rehash that little incident.

A moment later, a hand closed on her arm.

She took a breath, and turned.”It’s
Iolina
.”

Ronin and his brothers insisted on calling her by her childhood nickname even though she’d repeatedly asked them not to. Truth be told, Lina was the name she responded to the most, even if it did have so many bad memories attached to it.

When Dagan gave her a look that told her she was fighting a losing battle, she sighed and looked him over. He had rearranged his clothes into some semblance of respectability, and even though she knew what he’d just been doing in that darkened corner with another woman, she couldn’t help but notice how amazing he looked. His dark hair curled over his ears, its color perfectly matching the heavy brows framing his turquoise-glamoured eyes. A five o’clock shadow accentuated the powerful angles of his squared jaw. The black leather jacket that covered his fitted gray shirt and dark jeans was probably a tad too warm for the mild, late-spring weather, but who knew better than she how great jackets were for concealing weapons? Besides, demons and angels didn’t feel heat and cold in the same way humans did.

Damn it, why did he always have to look so good? That just made her even more pissed off.

Dagan took one glance at her face and released her arm. His hand clenched at his side. “Listen, I…uh…”

“Didn’t expect to see me here,” she finished for him.

His cheeks colored, and he edged closer, lowering his voice. “I came to see if I could find any more information about the dark fae. Keegan thinks he might be recruiting help out of here.”

“And yet, somehow, you ended up with some random bimbo’s hand stuck to your dick. Is that part of your cover? ’Cause if so, it’s a damn good one.”

She bit her lip as soon as the words escaped her mouth. Could she possibly sound any more like a jealous shrew? But he didn’t seem to notice. The color on his cheeks spread to his ears.

“I…”

A sheepish expression crept onto Dagan’s face, and he stuttered to a stop. That made her even more mad. The guy couldn’t even rustle up a weak excuse. Not that he owed her any sort of explanation for his actions, but still, the least he could do was refrain from chasing tail for a few
hours
while he worked.

Or maybe he couldn’t. Ronin seemed to think that was the case, and he often reminded her of it.

She smoothed an errant lock of her long, blond hair behind her ear. “Couldn’t resist fucking around on the job, huh? I’m sure your brothers would be so surprised.”

Hurt, then anger, flashed in his eyes, making him appear far more dangerous than a skirt-chasing player had any right to be. “Why do you care so mu—”