Reckoning: A Fallen Siren Novel (17 page)

BOOK: Reckoning: A Fallen Siren Novel
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“Rose respects
me
. Whether human or vampire, I figured things wouldn’t end well for Owen. At best he was going to be a burden. More likely, a severe liability that would eventually have to be dealt with.”

“But then you changed your mind.”

“Because Rose was heartbroken. As Owen began to slip away, so did she. She stopped feeding. I relented. Took on the burden.”

“You did the right thing, despite the potential consequences.” I hug Zack’s laptop to my chest and start to head back toward the entrance to the building. “You’re a romantic.”

Suddenly he’s in front of me, blocking my path. His expression is stern, his features hardened. “I’m not a romantic. I gave up that foolishness the day I died. I’m selfish. I’ve grown used to having Rose around. I didn’t want her to leave me.”

I study him, trying to gauge whether he’s telling the truth or feeding me a line of bullshit. I decide it doesn’t really matter, at least not right now. What matters is that we might have both a lead and an avenue to follow up on it.

“Kal, these girls have families. They are young and vulnerable. They have lives, lives that are now in jeopardy because they volunteered to supply
your
vampires with blood—boutique blood.”

“Okay.”

“Okay what?”

He turns and heads for the entrance. “I’ll let you use Owen. If he agrees.”

“But only because he really
wants
to do it,” I say as I hurry to keep up.

“That’s right. And because I have a feeling it’s going to lead me to Ford and Lamont.”

I shoot him a sideways glance. “And to save ten young, blond virgins,” I remind him.

He shrugs. “And that.”

*   *   *

“That was totally unnecessary. You didn’t need to ask Simon to help,” Zack is saying as we enter Liz’s condo.
“I’m telling you, I can make it look like we were checking Craig’s email from his apartment.”

“I’m sure you can,” agrees Rose as she slips her cell phone back into her pocket. “But Simon lives for this kind of thing. Besides, we can’t afford any slip-ups and you don’t want to risk associating the Federal Bureau of Investigation with something so nefarious. Now, do you?”

Her bright green eyes are fixed on those of the six-foot-plus werewolf towering over her, but her attempt to compel him into compliance is met with utter failure.

Zack smiles wryly. “I told you already, Princess, you can’t put me into thrall. I’m immune.”

Hands on hips, Rose stomps her foot. “How are you doing that?”

I suppress a smile. Rose has no way of knowing Zack carries a talisman to protect him from thrall, a smooth, polished stone the size of a quarter. I’m sure it’s in his pocket right now.

I feel Kallistos’ hand at the small of my back. “Honey, I told you we shouldn’t leave the children alone.”

Zack snarls something unintelligible.

I hold up his laptop. “Where do you want it?”

Liz points to the dining room table. “How about you set up over there? I could use a cup of coffee. Anyone else?”

I raise my hand. Zack asks for a glass of water. By the time Liz returns with it, he’s already intently typing. I look over his shoulder. “You in?”

“Almost. Here we go.” He punctuates the last statement with a jab to the keyboard and then he leans back in the chair.

A list of emails begins to load within the in-box on the screen. I don’t realize I’m holding my breath until I see one pop up from [email protected]. “Bingo!” It comes out in a rush of air.

Zack clicks on it.

The message is brief:
A car will pick you up tomorrow at sunset.

“What time is sunset tomorrow?” I ask.

“Just after seven,” Kallistos answers.

“We should try to trace the email.”

After a few clicks, the nicely formatted email looks like one lengthy block of nondescript code.

The doorbell rings. Liz answers.

It’s Simon.

“I’m just about to run a trace,” Zack tells him.

“Wait! Wait!” Simon jogs over, pulling his laptop out on the way to the table. “Let’s race!”

Within seconds both men are staring at their screens, hopeful, expectant.

“Oh man!” groans Simon.

Zack shakes his head. “Whoever is behind this made sure we couldn’t track the location of the computer,” he explains. “The email could only be traced as far as an anonymous open proxy in Russia.”

“Looks like we’re back to plan B,” says Owen.

We all turn to look at him. Rose gently places her hand on his arm. “Are you sure you want to do this?”

Kallistos studies Owen for a moment, then answers for him. “He feels he owes Emma. For saving his life. And he wants to prove himself. To me. To you.”

Owen nods. “I can do it.”

Rose turns to Liz. “Sunset falls at eight minutes after
seven. Will that be enough time for you to work your magic?”

“That depends on how quickly we can pull all of the ingredients together.” Liz makes her way over toward the entry, stopping at the edge of the black-and-white area rug we’d all walked across.

She waves her hand gracefully.
“Alka awatum.”

A grimoire, huge, old, and familiar to me from when it had been her grandmother’s, materializes like a wisp of smoke from under the carpet and takes form in her hands.

Rose turns to Simon. “You know how you’re always complaining that your comic book collection is outgrowing your apartment? Well, there’s your solution.”

The leather-bound volume is now open on the table. Liz quickly turns to one of many dog-eared pages. “It’s been several years since I’ve done this spell. I’ll need some unusual ingredients.”

I peer over her shoulder, curious. What I see on the pages brings a hundred questions to mind. But Liz is deep in thought, running a finger over a list that looks to me like gibberish.

“Some of these things I have,” she says after a moment. “Vervain, mandrake root, almond oil, and the beeswax candles—one black and five red. I can get those from my condo. We need some of Craig’s DNA. Hair would work nicely.”

“Zack and I will take care of that,” I say. “Evan’s still at Craig’s, right? We just need the address.”

Liz continues absently, either ignoring or not hearing my comment. “Poplar leaves. Twenty or so should do it. I know of a nursery in Vista that’s sure to carry poplars, although there might be another one closer.”

Zack starts to click away on his keyboard. “Checking.”

“Frankincense resin,” she murmurs, looking up. “Anyone know a local priest?”

Simon raises his hand. “My brother.” He pulls out his cell and begins to dial. “We’re supposed to meet for breakfast tomorrow. I’ll ask him to bring some. How much do you need?”

“Four or five good-sized pieces. It’s the quality that’s most important. They must be translucent, no black or brown impurities,” adds Liz.

Simon nods. “It’s rolling into voice mail. I’ll leave a message.”

“Maybe you should call back and speak to him in person,” I suggest. “It’s kind of an odd request.”

Simon waves me off. “He’s my brother. He’s used to odd requests.”

Zack’s on the phone, too. Speaking in hushed tones. “They have a poplar at Anderson’s Nursery. It’s just a few miles from here.”

“Owen and I can run and get it. I have the truck,” says Rose.

Rose climbing into the cab of a pickup wearing her crinoline and taffeta? This I have to see.

Liz is looking now at Kallistos. “I’m afraid this last item is going to require someone with your special skills. And we can’t wait until nightfall.”

He nods. “Let’s hear it.”

“We need a three-horned chameleon, also referred to as a Jackson’s chameleon. A male.”

He crosses his arms in front of his chest, a smile tweaking the corners of his mouth. “And when I find this chameleon, just how do I substantiate it’s a male?”

Liz grins back. “The ones with the three horns are male. The last time I did this spell I . . . um . . . borrowed one from the San Diego Zoo.”

“So, I’m supposed to walk into the zoo in broad daylight and then walk out with a chameleon in my pocket?” he asks.

“Or you could just ask your pal Paul to do it,” Zack interjects with more than a touch of sarcasm. “I hear he’s been unexpectedly freed up from his last assignment.”

I elbow him in the ribs. Thankfully, Kallistos doesn’t rise to the bait and everyone else ignores the gibe.

“No. That won’t work.” Liz grabs her jacket off the back of one of the dining room chairs and starts to slip it on.

“No?” Kallistos’ arms are still crossed. “And why not?”

“It’s going to be too big to slip into your pocket.”

Kallistos is frowning now, which makes us all smile. Suddenly I realize Liz is heading for the door.

“Where are
you
going?” I ask.

“To pick up a fifth of Ketel One.”

I glance down at the list of ingredients. “You need
vodka
for the spell?”

She shakes her head. “No. The vodka’s for me. I have a feeling I’m going to need it. Come on.” She claps her hands like a schoolteacher rounding up errant students. “You all have your assignments.” She checks her watch. “Let’s get moving.”

CHAPTER 19

Craig’s place is in the downtown area, not far from Evan’s condo. It happens to be around the corner from the former site of Barbara Pierce’s lab. Zack is driving, so I have the opportunity to scrutinize the building’s exterior as we go by. No outward sign of the blast that destroyed it remains.

“Looks like a brand-new building.”

Zack frowns. His shoulders tighten. His grasp on the wheel becomes firmer. I know what he’s thinking, that if it weren’t for Kallistos, there wouldn’t have been anything to repair in the first place. I focus once again on the view. The streets are dotted with Padres fans dressed in the requisite blue and orange. They’re heading toward Petco Park, which is just a few blocks away.

I point to the parade. “Padres are playing this afternoon. We might have trouble parking,” I say.

All I get from Zack is a “Hmm.”

He makes one final right turn, then pulls into a loading zone. He shuts off the engine to the SUV, then rolls down his window. A GO-4 three-wheel scooter heads for
us, a parking enforcement officer inside. Zack holds his badge out the window and waits for her approach.

“We’re here on official business,” he says smoothly. “We shouldn’t be more than thirty minutes.”

The attendant looks up. I can tell from the expression on her face it’s not the badge that makes her nod and smile. It’s Zack. I turn away to hide a grin. When the attendant moves on to the red pickup in front of us, I give his arm a playful jab.

“What?” he asks.

I point to the attendant who has emerged, ticket book in hand. She can’t resist a glance back at us before focusing on the meter.

“The Armstrong charm wins out again.”

Zack sniffs.

Our destination is across the street, but Zack makes no move to get out of the car. Instead, he turns in his seat to face me.

“Before we go in, we need to talk.”

“About?”

“This mission. Your vampire. The thousands of different ways he could screw this up,” he says. “Those girls are nothing more than a commodity to Kallistos. I refuse to be blindsided by him again.”

“I get it. You don’t trust him.”

“What you don’t seem to get is that neither should you. Your judgment is clouded where he’s concerned. Your feelings for him—”

“I don’t have
feelings
for him.”

“Right, I forgot. You just let him fuck you.”

The bitterness in his tone cuts me to the quick. I can’t give in to the hurt. If I do, I’ll unravel. “I’m a Siren, Zack.
Sex doesn’t hold the same meaning for me that it does for you. It doesn’t hold any meaning. It’s . . .” All I have. All I’ll ever have. “Never mind.”

He looks away. “Lie to yourself all you want. What we share isn’t about sex. And it isn’t meaningless. Maybe that’s what it is that terrifies you. Why you feel safer with Kallistos.”

“I don’t—”

“Don’t bother denying it. I can smell your fear of me. It’s suffocating, intoxicating . . . confusing. I don’t understand it.” He waits a beat. When it becomes clear I’m not going to respond, he points to my neck and asks, “How did he take it, by the way?”

I shrug, grateful for the change in subject. “Surprisingly well. You could have told me he’d sense the removal of the mark.”

“I didn’t know.” He seems to ponder the idea. “Normally the connection goes both ways. Although not necessarily to the same degree.”

“Like between Owen and Kallistos?”

“Yeah. What about when the mark was severed? Did
you
feel anything?”

I feel heat rise to my face. “Only you.”

Suddenly I’m back in that bathroom with Zack, enveloped in his passion. His mouth on my neck. His fangs tentatively grazing my skin. His cock pressing into my backside.

“Nothing of him? Are you sure?”

Zack’s nostrils flare. I’m certain he senses my desire—desire not for Kallistos.

“I’m sure.”

I close my eyes and hope he’ll let it go, as he’s done so
many times in the past. Instead he reaches out, cupping my cheek in the palm of his hand. I feel my breath hitch, my heartbeat quicken. I feel him move closer. Know his mouth is hovering over mine.

“You know you are driving me completely insane.” His thumb is stroking the side of my cheek.

The warmth of his breath feathers across my lips. The sound of my own blood rushes in my ears. He’s waiting for something. A sign. A signal. An invitation.

It doesn’t come. It can’t. I keep my eyes shut tight, my shoulders rigid. If I relax, if I look into his eyes, I’ll be lost.

We’ll both be.

After a moment, Zack pulls away, placing distance between us. “I smell both your desire and your fear. I don’t understand it. When this is over, when the girls are safe, you’re going to explain it.”

I release a breath, open my eyes.

He shoots me a sideways glance. “Assuming I survive.”

For the first time, the gravity of what we’re about to undertake begins to settle in. Kallistos is older than Lamont. It never occurred to me that Lamont might best Kallistos. That any vampire could best Kallistos. And that if Lamont does, Zack would surely be a target of his wrath.

“And if I don’t,” he continues, “you’re going to do whatever it takes to save those girls. Can I count on you?”

I draw a breath. “Always,” I reply.

Zack continues. “We aren’t going to have long to prepare for what’s to come. Kallistos is cooperating because
he sees this as an opportunity for revenge—a chance to get rid of Ford and Lamont. Let the vampires fight one another. We go for the girls.”

I touch the Glock at my waist. Then drop my hand.

Zack notices.

“These guns aren’t going to cut it against a room full of vampires, are they?” I ask. “We’re going to need . . . something else.”

That makes Zack smile.

“You have a plan.”

“Damn straight. Let’s go get us some DNA. We have another stop to make.”

“What for?”

“The something else.”

It’s then that I notice Evan across the street, leaning against the building. The ground floor contains a sandwich shop, a dry cleaner’s, and a barbershop. Above the businesses are five floors of residential apartments. Zack and I exit the SUV and head across the street. Evan tosses a set of keys in our direction as we approach. Zack plucks them out of the air.

“Fourth floor, unit four hundred and six. His sire’s gone,” he says. “Don’t know when he’ll be back. Don’t know
if
he’ll be back. I tried to reason with him.”

“But it’s his call,” finishes Zack. “We can’t do anything for Craig.” His words now are directed at me. A warning.

“It’s a stupid call,” I add before heading for the door. “I realize Craig’s sire has the right to punish him as he sees fit. I don’t have to like it.”

Evan reaches out for my elbow. “But you’ll abide by it?” His eyes dart from Zack to me and back again.

Zack nods, his expression grave.

“For now,” I agree. “See you back at the condo.”

The entryway is nothing more than a hall—mailboxes on one side, elevator at the end. I punch the call button. We don’t have to wait. The doors open right away. We step inside, face front, and in short order begin our ascent.

A sign on the fourth floor directs visitors who are looking for apartments 401 through 405 to the left, 406 to 410 to the right. We head right. Music spills out from a unit down the hall. I can feel the heavy bass through the floor. At the same time, my nostrils are assailed by the smell of garlic. I sniff the air. Zack tilts his head toward the door marked 407. The offender is right across the hall from our vampire. I wonder whether the odor is what drove Evan out of Craig’s apartment. And whether this is deliberate. Does the occupant know or suspect that his neighbor is a vampire?

Once Zack unlocks the door and we step inside, I realize the odor is not what drove Evan out. A wooden casket sits in the middle of the living room. At least I assume it’s made of wood. It’s wrapped so heavily in silver chains that I can’t tell for sure. The whimpering coming from within it is faint, barely discernable. I edge closer. Zack doesn’t follow. When I look back over my shoulder, his back is to the wall. Sweat is beading on his forehead. I’m reminded that Weres have just as much of an aversion to silver as vamps do.

“The proximity to the silver is weakening him,” Zack says. “My guess is what’s out here is meant to be a deterrent. To remind anyone inclined to execute an impulsive rescue of the fate that would await.”

He’s looking at me, his last words pointed as a barb. Another warning.

I move closer. It’s not just one chain wrapped around the coffin. There are dozens. My eyes scan the intricate pattern, taking in the various padlocks.

“We aren’t here to interfere with vampire politics. You said you’d abide by the decision for now,” Zack reminds me yet again.

“Well, my now is short. I’ve moved on to the next moment and I’m not finding this one quite as agreeable.” I pull out my cell phone. “This is barbaric. You saw how Kallistos reacted to what Barbara Pierce did. I can’t believe he would condone this.”

I dial the phone.

Kallistos answers on the first ring. “That took longer than I expected.”

“Do you know what Craig’s sire is doing to him?” I ask.

There’s no hesitation. “Yes. You’re not to interfere.”

“But—”

I’m wasting my breath. He’s already hung up.

“And you thought the news of me obliterating his mark went well,” Zack says.

“Shut up.”

I kneel down, lay my hands over the top layer of chains, and tug. They don’t budge.

“If you free him, his sire will merely track him down and kill him.”

I put my back into it and give the chain another tug. “Wouldn’t that be better than this?” I feel Zack’s hand on my shoulder. I shrug it off. I’m fueled by fury now. It doesn’t matter that he won’t help me, that Kallistos won’t help me. That I’m on my own in this. In life. Tears sting my eyes. The words pour out. “Endless torture? Being
trapped here . . . forever. Alone. Bound by a vindictive, unforgiving bitch!”

I feel a crackle in the air. A spark of charge as I yank once more. A wind is rising up within me. This can’t happen. I know I need to contain it. Zack is too close, the potential consequences too dire. Yet I feel the push. I want to ride the sensation of my rage.

“Emma!”

Zack’s strong arms wrap around me. He tilts my chin up. Blue eyes meet mine for an instant. Then Zack pulls me closer, dips his head. His nose nuzzles the place where he’d bitten me just hours before. He swipes it with his tongue. Once. Twice.

I feel the tension dissipate. Such a close call.

Then Zack is murmuring into my ear. “You aren’t alone.”

BOOK: Reckoning: A Fallen Siren Novel
8.63Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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