Reckoning: A Fallen Siren Novel (9 page)

“Yes,” I answer. “Do you think they’re trying to negotiate a truce of some kind?”

“I was hoping you could tell us that.” Seamus leans back in his chair and smiles sheepishly. “Even Kings have been known to talk in their sleep.”

“It’s remotely possible this is a diplomatic mission,” Zack adds. “But preparations for a visiting dignitary would be hard for anyone in Kallistos’ inner circle to miss.”

Meaning me. I search my memory but come up with nothing. “I haven’t seen or heard anything out of the ordinary. I don’t think Kallistos knows he’s here.”

“I want to know what this visit is about.” He turns those greener-than-clover eyes on me. “You can find out for us. Ask Kallistos if he has been in touch with Philippe Lamont.”

“And if he hasn’t? Seamus, do you really think Lamont would be foolish enough to challenge Kallistos on his own turf?”

“I do.” He lets the words drop away and takes another pull of Guinness.

“I lived in Lamont’s territory,” Zack says. “You’re right not to underestimate him. The bastard is ruthless, cunning, and will stop at nothing. He has no conscience, no limits. He glorifies the old ways, views humans as cattle. His influence has been spreading slowly west. He may be consolidating power, hoping to increase the size of his realm. If that is true, Kallistos may well be in danger.” Zack glances back and forth between Seamus and me. “And, I hate to say it, but if he loses power and Wade and Lamont take over, all of the supernaturals in the territory will be in danger.”

“Not to mention the humans,” I add.

Seamus nods. “Kallistos is old and powerful. I’d like to be able to say I’m not worried, but I can’t. Because of his progressive views, he’s made enemies. And he has vulnerabilities. You, for one.”

“Are you suggesting Lamont would use me to get to Kallistos?”

Seamus looks at Zack. “You know Lamont. What do you think?”

“I’ve met him. I wouldn’t exactly say I know him,” replies Zack.

The discussion stops when Candy comes to the table to refill our Cokes. As soon as she leaves I ask, “What can you tell me about him?”

Zack shrugs. “Just the rumors. He was turned around 1575, so he’s younger than Kallistos. Rumor has it Lamont was a lover of Catherine de Medici. He was instrumental in overseeing the assassination of Admiral Gaspard de Coligny, an event that set off an orgy of killing, resulting in the massacre of tens of thousands of Huguenots all across France. A river of blood was spilled and Lamont bathed joyously in it. If the stories are true, he lost his soul long before he became vampire.”

Seamus finishes off the rest of his beer, then stands up. “Maybe I’m overreacting. Maybe when you go home tonight, Kallistos will be hosting a dinner party for the Southern King and his visit is nothing more than a stop on a coastal vacation.”

“Doesn’t explain why he’d bring Asa Wade with him,” Zack interjects.

“Perhaps he needed an extra guard dog.” Seamus laughs at his own joke while Zack and I stare at him. “Well, I thought it was funny. Zack, you might want to check on Sarah. She’s pretty shaken up. I wanted her to come back to the ranch, where we can protect her, but she didn’t want to come without you.”

“You want me to convince her?” Zack says.

“Don’t you think that’s for the best?” Seamus turns and winks at me. “Now, off you go, too, Mata Hari. I’d like a full report by morning.” He throws a couple bucks on the table. “For the tip.” Then he leaves.

Zack reaches for his wallet. “You get the car, Emma, and I’ll get the check. You can drop me off at the hotel. Seamus is right. I need to talk to Sarah, and you need to speak with Kallistos.”

“Johnson’s going to want a report.”
Now that the Were pissing party is over, we still need to find these girls.

“After I get Sarah settled at the ranch, I’ll call and update him. It should take an hour or two at the most. By then, maybe we’ll have more info from the Ocean Beach PD about the missing computer.”

“Or maybe something from the school’s security footage or Julie’s hard drive,” I add as I fish my keys out of my pocket.

Zack pulls out a couple twenties and calls out to the waitress.

I move to leave, but he reaches for my arm and stops me. “You had your gun out. Would you have shot Wade?”

“Depends.”

“On?”

“Whether he tried to hurt you.”

When I arrive at the Palomar Hotel, I’m told by Ernesto, the valet, that Kallistos is out on business. The twentysomething is sporting a pin-striped vest with matching trousers and his ever-present bowler hat. His dark eyes, accentuated by kohl liner, take in everything.

Ernesto isn’t just a valet; he’s also a vampire. Young and eager to please. In addition to parking cars and carrying luggage, it’s his job to keep track of all of the guests’ comings and goings, and to report anything unusual up the chain—to Kallistos. My arriving this early in the day is unusual. He’s furiously texting someone. My guess? Kallistos. He tries to hide his discomfort as he takes my keys.

“Let me get you a claim ticket,” he says, stalling.

He checks his phone. Takes off his hat and wipes his forehead. Checks his phone again. This time whatever he reads brings a smile.

“I’ll take you right up,” he says. Then he hands my car keys off to one of the other valets and takes my computer bag.

“Do you know when Kallistos is expected back?” I ask as we walk through the great swinging door into the lobby. On the way to the elevators we pass staff preparing the space for the downtown happy-hour crowd. Several nod. Others are too busy lighting candles and laying out drink menus to notice.

“Less than an hour. Shall I send something up? Charlie’s behind the bar tonight. She makes a mean pomegranate martini.”

We pass underneath the chandelier that hangs over a cluster of sofas and chairs. A collection of lights that resemble jellyfish hang from the ceiling, casting a soft glow, setting just the right mood. I check the time. It’s four thirty.

“I think I’ll wait for Kallistos.”

Ernesto nods. The short ride up to the penthouse is uneventful. He leaves me alone with a promise to have drinks sent up whenever we’re ready. I toss my bag on the sofa along with my jacket, then head upstairs.

I’m not sure why I’m here. Since Kallistos isn’t, why didn’t I go home to work? I could have reveled in privacy and solitude. Had Ernesto page me when Kallistos returned.

And yet, here I am.

I toss my keys on the table beside the door.

Maybe I’m not sure where home is anymore. Maybe I’ve found it. Kallistos knows I can’t allow myself to fall in love or allow anyone to fall in love with me. More important, he knows the cost. He’s a realist. He accepts it. While his pragmatic approach may not be particularly romantic, it is a relief. Liz is convinced we’re the perfect match—a vampire who makes no demands, except for
the most exquisite sexual ones, and the Siren who can fulfill those demands without sacrificing her heart.

*   *   *

When I enter the bedroom, my eyes are drawn to Kallistos’ private writing table. My lover may be a vampire King, but he’s also a businessman. The eighteenth-century Louis XVI mahogany piece arrived shortly after Kallistos decided to remain in San Diego. I realize that although it appears to be well used, I’ve never witnessed him sitting behind it. I pull out the chair and run my fingers over the leather-inlaid top. When they brush the keyboard, the desktop computer comes to life. A calendar is displayed. My breath hitches. No password. No security. Why?

Because no one has unsupervised access to this room.

Except for me, now.

Today’s appointments are all right here. A click of a button and I’ll be able to see the days, weeks, months ahead. My hand hangs, poised, over the mouse.

Instead I go to Finder, hit sleep.

The screen returns to black.

I head over to the closet, kicking off my shoes on the way. The light automatically turns on when I open the door. It’s filled with his suits, shirts, and shoes. The scent of Kallistos’ aftershave perfumes the air with a delicate and familiar subtlety. I reach for a starched white button-down with traditional cuffs and a spread collar. My blouse and lingerie go into the hamper. The slacks and jacket are hung in the closet. I pad, nude, across the thick caramel carpet into the bathroom, shirt in hand. I hang the shirt on a hook behind the bathroom door, turn on the taps, and add a generous portion of bath salts to the swirling water.

My phone rings. “Bad Moon Rising.” Zack.

Rather than race downstairs to get it, I pick up the handset in the bathroom and call him back. “What’s up?”

“Heard from Garner. His review of the security footage at the school for the last several days turned up nothing out of the ordinary.”

I can hear the disappointment in his voice as he continues.

“So far the school’s the only location we can place all three girls. Seems logical that’s where whoever is responsible identified his victims. I’m thinking if it wasn’t someone on the outside . . .”

“Maybe we should be looking closer at those on the inside.”

“Exactly what I’m thinking. I have a list of the faculty and staff. I’m going in to start running background checks tonight.”

I turn off the water. “You’re going in now? What happened to driving Sarah out to the ranch?”

“She took a cab.”

“A cab?”

No reply.

“Zack?”

“You have this idea about what Sarah and I have. It’s not what you think.” Before I have a chance to respond he asks, “You want to come in and help?”

I hear the door downstairs open, then close.

“Kallistos just came in. I need to talk to him about Lamont. Maybe after.”

Seconds tick by.

I hear footsteps on the staircase. “Emma?”

Zack hears Kallistos, too. “I’ll let you go. I’ll update
Jimmy tonight, put in a couple hours. Meet you in the office tomorrow morning at eight.”

“I’ll see you then,” I tell him. Then I hang up, and slide into the tub. The water is almost scalding. Steam rises up. I close my eyes and try to relax.

“Emma?”

“In here!”

Kallistos appears in the doorway. He’s wearing a sleek-cut, single-breasted black suit. In the breast pocket is a neatly folded white handkerchief. It matches the white dress shirt, open at the collar. His dark hair is combed back from his forehead; shoulder-length layers frame his handsome face. I see something in his clear blue eyes that I haven’t seen before: worry. “Is everything all right?”

I pluck one of the larger sea sponges from the basket perched on the tub’s surrounding rim and hand it to Kallistos.

A smile smooths the worry frown from his brow. He removes his suit coat and hangs it on a hook. His smile broadens when he sees another of his own shirts, the one I brought with me from his closet, hanging nearby. “Need help with those hard-to-reach places, do you?”

He’s already removed his onyx cuff links and is rolling up his sleeves.

I lean forward, hugging my knees to my chest. “You came home early. Am I keeping you from something?”

“Nothing as important as you. What is it? Has something happened?”

His voice is low, even, soothing. Water spills down by back, over my shoulder. His strokes are slow and deliberate.

“Nothing. Everything. I’m working a case. Young girls, three of them. It’s going nowhere. I’m worried,” I confess.

“That you won’t find them?”

“That they’re already dead. There haven’t been any ransom demands, not for any of them.” I turn to face him. “But I need to speak to you about something else. Something I heard at lunch today.”

“About?”

“You. Well, maybe you. Seamus O’Malley—”

“You had lunch with Seamus O’Malley?” Kallistos drops the sponge back into the tub, then moves to lean against the counter.

The better to watch my face. I swallow a sarcastic retort and, shaking my head, begin, “Not exactly
with
Seamus. Zack and I stopped at Hodad’s to grab a late lunch. Asa Wade showed up.” Kallistos’ vantage point proves to work to my advantage, too. I see no indication that he recognizes the name. “He’s Zack’s old pack master. They have a history. Bad blood between them. Seamus showed up and diffused the situation.”

“Zack involves you in werewolf affairs now?” His tone is sharp and disapproving.

“I’m actually more concerned with what I learned from Seamus about vampire affairs,” I reply. “He had a warning. For you.”

Kallistos’ arms are now crossed in front of his chest. “A warning? What did he say?”

“That Asa came here with Philippe Lamont.”

A flash of wariness widens his eyes.

“You didn’t know,” I add.

He shakes his head. “It’s not true. I don’t believe
Lamont would enter my territory without permission, without going through appropriate channels. Besides, he’s being watched. If he’d come here, I’d know. I haven’t maintained power for this long by happenstance. I know who my enemies are and I keep close tabs on them.”

“Seamus seems pretty certain it was Lamont with Wade. He thinks you may be in danger. He believes that Lamont is here to foment unrest between the factions who oppose the Blood Emporiums and those whom you rule. If it is Lamont, wouldn’t the fact that he hasn’t made his presence known to you prove Seamus’ point?”

He snaps up the handset for the phone and dials. He speaks into the receiver. “When did we last hear from Gideon?” He listens. After a moment, he says, “Find out why he hasn’t reported in. I want Lamont’s current position.” He waits. More seconds tick by. Concern mars his brow.

“What is it?” I ask.

Kallistos holds up his hand. “Call me as soon as you have word.” He hangs up, then reaches for a towel, holding it open. “My man didn’t answer.”

I step out of the bath. His arms, strong and certain, wrap the towel around me. For a moment I lean into him. “What does that mean?” I ask.

“I don’t know. But I aim to find out.”

He tilts my chin up. My eyes meet his.

“I can take care of myself, you know. Been doing it for a long time. You needn’t be concerned.” He smiles. “Someone might mistake that concern for caring.”

“You know I care.”

“Which reminds me . . .”

He takes my hand and leads me back out to the
bedroom. On the center of the moss green coverlet is a black velvet box, a little longer and wider than a deck of cards.

“It occurred to me after you left this morning that I haven’t been expressing myself very well. This is probably going to come as a surprise to you, but I’m a bit rusty when it comes to negotiating the great relationship gauntlet.”

“So you bought me jewelry?”

Kallistos picks up the box. “No. Not jewelry.” He appears to measure the weight of the box in his hand. “For months I’ve been asking you to move in with me. I realized today how that must sound, as if I’m asking you to give up something of yourself—your freedom, your privacy. That isn’t my intention. I don’t want you to have to give up anything, ever. Not for me. I can be difficult to access, to understand. I’ve been with thousands of women, but how many have known me? What I’ve been trying to do, Emma, is invite you in. Not just into the penthouse.” He opens the box. “Into my life.”

The box holds a hotel card key attached to a short gold chain, one that resembles an old-fashioned watch fob. He holds it out to me.

“Keep your place. Come and go as you please. Commandeer a closet and one side of the medicine cabinet. Or continue to have room service bring you emergency toothbrushes and steal my shirts. I don’t care.”

“Yes, you do,” I say, fingering the key. “This proves it. Thank you.”

“Don’t thank me yet. My life is often messy. If Lamont’s presence in town is any indication, it might be getting messier. He plays dirty, Emma.”

“I’m a Siren,” I remind him, letting my towel fall to
the ground as I drop to my knees. My hands move to the waistband of his trousers and I unfasten his belt. “We like it dirty.”

His long fingers reach down to remove the pins from my hair. It falls loose down my back.

A slow smile forms on his lips. “How dirty?” he asks me, encouraging me to stand. His voice is rough with desire as he kicks off his shoes and steps out of his trousers.

His rock-hard erection brushes the softness of my belly.

I need it. Him. Desperately.

As I work the buttons of his shirt, my heart is racing with anticipation. “What do you have in mind, sire?” The air around us warms, stirring an almost imperceptible perfumed breeze. It’s a deliberate crack in the armor, small but effective. His control crumbles.

Suddenly, I’m pinned to the wall. Vampire molded to my body, mouth at my neck.

My breath hitches.

So does his.

It pulses against my skin. “You know what I want,” he whispers. “You. I want you.”

I thread my fingers through his hair and pull him away. My eyes search his. They reveal more than they should, but then again, mine probably do, as well. I don’t have much time to think. His lips cover mine. Hungrily, he drinks me in. Mouth open, tongue probing. A fang pierces my lower lip. I taste my own blood. Surprisingly, this time I don’t care.

Kallistos does. He’s respected my wishes up until now
and he’s prepared to deny himself what he wants yet again.

“I’m sorry.” His tongue darts out to lick the drop of ruby liquid from his lower lip.

I shake my head. “Don’t be. It’s who you are. Don’t hold back, not tonight. Not with me.”

It’s all the permission he needs.

His hands are on my ass. He lifts me, effortlessly. My legs wrap around his waist. I’m wet and wanton. My power rails, begging for release. A wind rises around us. Blinds rattle against the balcony doors. Papers, neatly ordered on the writing table only seconds ago, can be heard beating against nearby walls.

I could stop it, but I don’t want to. More important, I don’t need to. Not with him.

Lips trail down the length of my jaw. I feel his tongue on my neck.

Then with one sure thrust he’s buried inside of me. His hips piston, fucking me with a new ferocity. Something crashes to the floor. Hands grasp, searching for purchase. My light breaks through. The temperature around us climbs, higher and higher until both our bodies are slick with sweat. I’m dizzy. Slipping. All I can hear is my own distant breaths, my own waning heartbeat, my own screams of ecstasy as fang pierces flesh.

I shatter completely, my body wracked by uncontrollable tremors.

I’ve never been so free.