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Authors: Rosalie Lario

Tags: #Fiction, #General, #Paranormal, #Rosalie Lario, #playboy, #angel, #entangled publishing, #demon, #paranormal romance, #Demons of Infernum, #Call of the Siren, #demons, #Romance, #Entangled Edge, #New York CIty, #Fae

Call of the Siren (9 page)

BOOK: Call of the Siren
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“Dagan…” She averted her eyes and fidgeted, all too aware he probably didn’t even realize what he was doing.

“No, not the moon. The sun,” he whispered. “That’s what you are to me. My own personal ray of sunshine.”

“You’re wasted.” She tried to pull her hand back, but he didn’t budge. “You don’t know what you’re saying.”

“The hell I don’t.” He shook his head, a heavy scowl marking his features. “My whole life, I’ve always been trying to live up to other people’s expectations. Doing what my family thinks I
should
be doing. When do I get what I really want?”

“What do you want?” she found herself asking in a barely audible voice.

He let out a hoarse chuckle, his eyes surprisingly bright and earnest despite his state of inebriation. “Isn’t it obvious, Lina? Hasn’t it been clear from the moment we first met?”

His words made her chest tighten and an answering dampness spread between her thighs. Had he felt the same things she had? “What?”

“You. I want you.”

Lina had time for no more than a shocked gasp before he pulled her toward him, closing his mouth over hers. The automatic impulse to stiffen and pull away fled when his tongue coaxed her lips open and slid into her mouth with delicious persuasion. He tasted of whiskey and ocean spray and an erotic spice she’d never before experienced, and suddenly she couldn’t think of any reason why they shouldn’t be doing this. In fact, why hadn’t they done it before now?

Her arms wrapped around him, and she pressed herself closer, angling her head so he could more deeply penetrate the inner recesses of her mouth. Gods, he kissed like a devil. Hot and hard and full of delicious promise. His hands splayed along her lower back, sliding up the fabric of her jacket, and the heavy pressure of his fingers sparked a full-on body shudder that had her imagining what it would be like to feel all of him against her, skin to skin.

Why the hell had she bothered to put her jacket back on? She let go of Dagan long enough to slide it off her shoulders and undo the holster that strapped her daggers to her sides. Then she returned her hands to his shoulders.

“Are you always so heavily armed?” he mumbled against her lips.

“Yes.” Her hands wandered down his chest, then under the barrier of his T-shirt. His abs contracted at her touch, and once again, it struck her just how hot he was. His skin practically sizzled against her fingers, burning with delicious heat. When he groaned against her mouth, the reverberation strummed between her thighs, and her muscles contracted in response. The feelings he aroused in her were so intense, she was perilously in danger of coming right then and there.

He broke away to trail kisses down her neck. “You taste so good.”

She moaned and slid her hands up his chest until his heartbeat thrummed against her palm. Good to know she wasn’t the only one so deeply affected by their kiss. When his hands cupped her ass, then slipped under the waistband of her jeans, she moved her fingers to the front button, prepared to rip the damn things off. But before she could, Dagan broke away, setting her back with a heavy groan.

“No, we can’t.”

“What?” She sat there, blinking dumbly until the neurons in her brain started to fire once more. Finally, Dagan’s face came into focus. Beautiful and strong and 100 percent conflicted. Reasoning returned, leaving her flush with embarrassment. One tiny nugget of encouragement from Dagan, and she’d jumped his bones.

How freaking desperate.

Still, she couldn’t help but ask…

“Why can’t we?”

He cursed and raked his hands through his hair, his eyes desperate and sad. “This is what I’m talking about, Lina. I do this
every
time.”

Confusion prompted her to say, “Do what?”

“Use sex as a diversionary tactic to avoid whatever I’m feeling.”

Ouch
.

Lina recoiled from the pain his words sparked in the pit of her stomach. “Is that what you’re doing here? Using sex as a tool?”

“Yes.” After a beat of silence, he looked at her and sighed, then lifted one hand to caress the side of her face. “No. What I feel for you is real, but it’s also wrong. I shouldn’t be here.”

“Why not?”

Dagan let out a low, hollow laugh and rose from the chaise lounge. He strode to the edge of the roof. “I had a fight with Ronin.”

“Oh.”

So that’s what this is all about.

The endorphins from their make-out session must have still been flooding her body, because she found herself standing and walking over to where Dagan stood. “You know, maybe Ronin doesn’t get to dictate what we do with our lives.”

He gave a small smile at that. “Maybe.”

She found herself examining his profile. The strong jut of his chin, decorated by that sexy layer of stubble. The high, aristocratic cheekbones. His heavy brow. Not to mention his body. The man was utterly breathtaking.

When waves of desire flooded her system once again, she fought them back. Right now, he needed a friend more than a lover. Despite her resolve to stay away from Ronin and his family, she found she wanted to be Dagan’s friend.

And yes, gods help her, maybe even his lover too.

“It’s getting late,” he finally said. “I should get home.”

Lina read the message behind his words. He
should
go home, but he didn’t particularly want to. Not after his fight with Ronin.

“Stay here,” she said.

His body grew rigid, and his gaze met hers. The fire and lust shimmering in his eyes sent a rush of enticing heat through her body.

“On the couch, I mean,” she quickly clarified.

He opened his mouth, and she was certain he was going to say no. But then he surprised her by nodding. “Okay. Just for tonight.”

“Good.”

But half an hour later, as she settled down in her bed with her door firmly shut, she wondered just how much sleep she would really get. Knowing that Dagan was right outside her door, lying on her couch?

Not much.


At half past five in the morning, Keegan bit out a curse and jammed the end button on his cell phone. “No answer. Again. This is the tenth time I’ve called him.”

Ronin, who sat on the couch with his elbows on his knees, took a huge sip from the glass in his hand before quietly admitting, “I don’t blame him. We’ve never fought like that before.”

“Shit.” Keegan impatiently paced the length of his living room. “We need to find him and let him know what’s going on.”

“Calm down, we’ll find him,” Brynn said from her spot on the couch next to Ronin. She was acting strong for Keegan’s sake, but her eyes were bloodshot from the tears she must have cried while she was alone in the bathroom.

A sick feeling knotted Keegan’s gut. How the hell had he gotten them into this mess? What was going to happen to his family?

Amara, who sat on Ronin’s other side rubbing her hand over his back in comfort, leaned forward. “Don’t you guys have a GPS tracking device installed on your cell phones?”

“Yeah.” Ronin finished his drink in one smooth gulp and rose to get a refill from the bar. “We got them in case of emergency.”

“If this doesn’t classify as an emergency, I don’t know what does,” Keegan said.

Ronin nodded. “I’ll pull his address and go get him. We need to figure out what the hell we’re going to do, ASAP.”

“Did you call Taeg?” Brynn asked.

Keegan cracked his back, suddenly feeling much older than his years. “Yes. He and Maya are on their way back from Europe. They’re going to meet us there.”

“Where?” Ronin asked.

Keegan took a deep breath and confessed the secret that until this point only he and Taeg had shared. “Right about the time we decided to go after Asmodeus, I had Bram and Reiver start working on a secret hideaway for us. Just in case things ever went south.”

Brynn’s eyes widened. “
What
? Why didn’t you say anything?”

“I didn’t want to worry you.” Which was true, but it sounded so lame when he said it aloud.

When his wife’s eyes narrowed in on him, he knew he hadn’t heard the last of it. No doubt she’d ream him in private later on.

“Where is it?” Ronin asked.

Although he didn’t come out and accuse Keegan, somehow his quiet tone made him feel all the more guilty for keeping this secret. But even though Keegan had taken the precaution of building a safe space, he’d honestly never thought they’d have to use it. “Upstate. Several hours north, close to the Canadian border.”

Amara stood and crossed to Ronin. He enfolded her in his arms. She turned to Keegan. “Is there enough space in the house for all of us?”

Keegan winced. He wasn’t really sure how this was going to go over. “Yes, but it’s not a house… exactly.”

Arching a brow, Brynn rose to her feet. “Then what
exactly
is it?”

He took a deep breath and forced himself to meet her eyes. “It’s a cave.”

Chapter Ten

The rising sun brought with it a thick, gray mist that swelled through the entire grounds, making it appear as if the castle floated on air. Belpheg found he liked the imagery. It held an aura of romance about it that he found particularly fitting in this situation. Soon he would triumph over the evil organization that had massacred his people. And he would rejoice in his victory.

When his hand trembled, he let go of the ancient tapestry with an inward curse, letting it fall once more to conceal the square window in his reception chamber. Forcing a careless grin to his lips, he turned to face the man he’d summoned.

Mammon sat several feet away in one of his burgundy-velvet, high-backed chairs, and he appeared remarkably in control of himself. Arrogant even. That was something Belpheg hadn’t taken into account when he’d first decided to save him. The man’s haughtiness could fill the entire castle and surrounding grounds.

He’d grown too cocky lately. Had dared to intimate on several occasions that he would be a co-ruler of this world once the Council was defeated. Oh, how wrong he was.

After all his planning, Belpheg was ready to put the remainder of his plan into motion. Ready to draw Mammon’s sons to him, so he could absorb their power. But first, Mammon needed a lesson, a reminder about who was really in charge.

And the fact that it would be fun to catch him off guard?

Well, that was just a bonus.

“Can you believe how much has happened since the night I first saved your life?” Mammon asked, resting one elbow on the armchair and stroking his chin in contemplation.

“Indeed, no.” Belpheg had morphed from a frightened child in need of rescuing to the master of the man who’d once saved him. Not that Mammon had quite figured that out yet. The fool hadn’t realized that a simple agreement and a handshake with a dark fae of Belpheg’s stature would bind Mammon’s soul in servitude.

“To think I almost left you for dead,” Mammon rasped.

Belpheg let out a smooth laugh as the memories washed over him. “I recall.”

How could he ever forget the night when, at the young age of twelve, he’d woken to see his clan’s valley ablaze? His entire family was consumed by the supernatural fire. It had only been a stroke of good fortune that had saved him, that had allowed him to retrieve some of the clan’s scrolls. Even more fortunate that Mammon had been there, spying on the Council’s heinous acts. Belpheg had run into the demon hiding beyond the tree line, had talked him into saving him. He remembered that last view of his valley as if it were yesterday.

Belpheg swiveled his head to take one last look at the robed figure on the ridge—the man who’d managed to use subterfuge to do the impossible—disarm his entire clan. “Who are they? Who is
he
?”

“They’re Council employees, and he is Faelan’s Grand Councilman,” said Mammon.

Bitter tears choked Belpheg’s vision. “Why? Why would they do this?”

“Because, dear boy, you and your clan…you were far too powerful to live.”

Belpheg blinked, forcing the remnants of old, painful memories back into the recesses of his mind. But the anger still burned at him, calling for revenge. His clan had been destroyed simply because the Council had seen them as a threat. Men, women, and children, all wiped from existence.

Now, in retribution, Belpheg would show them just how dangerous he could really be.

“If you hadn’t saved me that night and smuggled me to a safe hideaway,” he said to Mammon, “who knows where I would be right now?”

“It was a big risk, hiding you away.” A shadow of a smile crossed Mammon’s face. “But somehow I had a feeling it was a decision I wouldn’t regret.”

“And so…here were are.” Belpheg inclined his head.

“I got the idea to breed sons of different races from you, you know.”

“Really?” Belpheg made his way to the chair that had been set across from Mammon’s, pausing only to caress the scrolls on the pedestal, absorbing a much-needed trace of their energy. “How so?”

“It was meeting you and catching a glimpse of your power that gave me the idea of crossbreeding for strength. Sadly your clan—the most powerful I’ve ever seen—had already been decimated, but I found some success among other clans and species.”

“Until your sons turned on you.”

Mammon’s mouth tightened at Belpheg’s reminder of his sons’ betrayal, and Belpheg gave an inward laugh. It was the very subject of Mammon’s sons that he wanted to discuss. He’d thought up an interesting way to keep Mammon in line, to impress upon him his power.

“Never worry, they’ll be paying for their sins soon enough. But first, I have a surprise for you, Mammon.”

When Mammon cocked one thick brow, Belpheg continued. “Unlike your traitorous sons, I found someone who is, in fact, excited to see you. I thought it would only be fitting that he join us in our quest.”

Stifling a laugh at the wariness that popped into Mammon’s eyes, Belpheg slightly raised his voice so that the vampire he knew lounged right outside the door could hear. “Come on in, Rage.”

The vampire sauntered in, looking every bit like one of Earth’s rock stars in his black leather pants and fitted black T-shirt. With great pleasure, Belpheg watched the confusion on Mammon’s face morph into slack-jawed astonishment as he took in the features of the vampire who had just joined them. The dark hair that hung almost to his shoulders had been carelessly tied behind his neck, showcasing the earring he wore in one ear and the stud decorating his right brow. Several days’ growth of stubble marked straight, angular features that Belpheg had, upon first sight, found eerily familiar. The vampire’s burning topaz eyes—eyes that weren’t quite right, that weren’t 100 percent sane—studied Mammon with reckless amusement.

With the two men in the same room, it was impossible to miss the resemblance. From the expression on his face, Mammon was clearly of the same accord.

“Figured it out, I see,” Belpheg said gently.

The vampire, clearly enjoying the moment just as much as Belpheg was, gave Mammon a feral grin that showcased his sharp, white canines. “Hello…Dad.”

BOOK: Call of the Siren
12.54Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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