Siren's Surrender (7 page)

Without quite thinking about it, Blake let his gaze edge over toward Gwen. An hour ago he’d been chomping at the bit to leave town. Now he was mulling plans to bring his son to Port Rock. What was wrong with him?

Blake hated to admit it, but his heart had sped up double-time when she’d touched him. Yeah, he knew it was simply a gesture of concern. Somehow she’d sensed his discomfort and tried to calm his fear.

He shook his head. She might already have a boyfriend. Hell, she might even be in a serious relationship already. Or engaged. The one thing he did know was that her ring finger was bare.

That meant she might be open to something with him.

If I decide to pursue her,
he thought.

At this point it was all wild speculation.

He’d had these gut-level attractions before and they’d never panned out, mostly because he’d always backed off at the last moment. Once bitten, twice shy didn’t begin to describe his hang-ups with women.

Then there was his job, which often entailed insane hours and a lot of travel. Finally, he was tied up with trying to be a part of his young son’s life and wrangling with his ex-girlfriend. It was a lot to take care of, and twenty-four hours just didn’t cover all he needed to do.

Still, Gwen was definitely different. The simple touch of her hand had set his nerves afire. He’d had to shift away and brush her off to keep his composure. That or end up with a very prominent hard-on. She’d accepted his slight with grace.

He’d tried to make it up to her by asking her out. It wasn’t much, but it was a start.

“What about a hotel on the island?” he blurted out. “You know, one of those little inn-type places?”

Blindsided by his unexpected entry into the conversation, Gwen looked at him like he’d lost every marble in his head. “Excuse me?”

Blake pointed out an acre that had caught his eye. “I was just wondering why you don’t consider building on the island. With the lighthouse and access to the mainland, it seems like it would be a perfect tourist destination.”

Gwen lifted her chin. “Maybe because I don’t happen to have a few million dollars sitting in my checking account,” she countered.

Addison jumped in. “Ken’s made the offer—” she started to say.

Gwen immediately shook her head. “And I’m not asking my brother-in-law to finance my business ventures,” she countered firmly. “Anything I do, I’ll do it with money I’ve earned.”

“But it’s a possibility,” Addison prodded.

For some insane reason, Blake nodded his agreement. “It’s something I’d keep in mind. You’ve got a good piece of real estate. Would be a real shame to waste it.”

He didn’t know why he felt compelled to add his two cents. It really wasn’t any of his business. It just seemed like a good idea.

Gwen Lonike was giving everyone the evil eye, looking at him and Addison like bugs she wanted to step on. She pinned her sister with a stare. “We enjoy our privacy.” She coughed discreetly into her hand. “Remember.”

Addison flagged a hand. “Oh, that’s overrated nowadays.” She threw out her arms. “How are you going to get noticed if you don’t think big?”

Flashing a look of annoyance, Gwen put them both off. “I’d rather think big, but stay discreet. That gets me along in life just fine. Thank you.” She jabbed a finger toward Blake. “And I’d appreciate it if you’d keep your meddling in my family’s business to official business only. Whatever you’ve got to do, do it and go away. Please.”

That said, she marched off toward the main house in a huff. For the second time that day Blake had a view of her back as she stomped away.

He had a feeling he’d be eating alone tonight.

Nibbling her bottom lip, Addison shrugged off her sister’s anger. “Aw, she’s just being moody today. She’ll forget about it in an hour or so.” She cocked her head toward the house. “Might as well come in. Everyone’s waiting.”

Blake nodded. Far from being put off, he found himself admiring her spunk. Gwen appeared to be unwilling to rely on anyone but herself. Her determination was appealing.

It was too fucking bad he’d probably never lay eyes on her again after today.

Guess I blew it big-time
. . .

Blake had no chance to finish his thought.

Four women appeared suddenly over the edge of a nearby embankment. Dressed in some sort of scaly-looking skintight apparel, their heads had been completely shaved save for a thin strip of hair down the middle of their skulls. Stranger than their looks were the weapons they carried. Long knives were sheathed at their hips and a couple of the women carried spears.

The two who weren’t armed with spears wore some kind of bejeweled adornment that looked like a snake winding up from their hand to the crook of their arm. The jewels were alight, flashing with strange colors.

Addison stiffened. “Holy shit, we’ve got trouble.”

Blake looked toward the women. They didn’t look friendly and were advancing rapidly. “You know these people?”

A frown turned down Addison’s lips. “I hadn’t planned on meeting them, but I guess I’ve got no choice now. They’ve got their ass-kicking gear on.”

Blake reached for the weapon holstered under his jacket. “Not necessarily.” He stepped in front of Addison. “I’ll handle it.”

“You don’t know what they’ve got,” he heard Addison warn from behind. “I don’t think you’ll be able to stop them with just a gun. Her weapon beats yours any day of the week.”

Blake’s head swiveled. Nothing Addison said made sense, but he didn’t care. A well-aimed bullet could stop an assailant in their tracks. And he was an expert shot.

He thumbed back the safety on his 9 mm, aimed, and got ready to squeeze the trigger. “Federal agent,” he announced. “Stop there and lower your weapons.”

They women didn’t slow their advance. If they heard his warning, they ignored it.

One of the advancing females lifted her hand. Oddly enough Blake noted that her arm was also strangely tattooed. Just like Addison’s.

At the moment he didn’t make the connection.

No time to think about it either.

The jeweled object around the woman’s arm pulsed, sending out a violent bolt of light.

Moments later a searing blast of heat tore through Blake’s arm. The air in his lungs instantly evaporated. Fingers going numb, his gun dropped from his hand. The odor of burnt material and sizzling blood assailed his nostrils.

“Fuck!” he yelped, clamping his hand over the injured area. It felt like someone had stabbed him to the bone with a burning-hot branding iron.

A second flare whizzed within an inch of his temple. His sunglasses went flying, hitting the ground in a heap of twisted metal and melted plastic. It was so close he felt its heat and saw its blazing kaleidoscope of color. Had the blast hit the mark, his skull would have exploded like a water balloon hitting concrete.

Brain whirring frantically, Blake stared in pure shock at the advancing females. He struggled to make sense of the events as they were unfolding, but none of the pieces came together.

Pulling in a gulp of much-needed oxygen, he felt his stomach do a backflip. Acid rose from his stomach, burning the back of his throat.
What the hell’s happening?

He definitely hadn’t been expecting to walk into a war zone when he’d rolled out of bed this morning. Everything around him had taken on a surreal quality, as if he’d somehow stepped from his own world into an entirely different dimension.

An extremely hostile dimension.

The women had ambushed and attacked, with no questions asked. Their only intent seemed to be to annihilate everything in sight.

A fresh volley of blasts sailed past him. He wasn’t the only victim in plain sight. A man’s scream of agony hit his ears, turning into a long, low moan of the mortally wounded.

Realization hit Blake.
The old man!
He started to head back toward the dock.

Grabbing a handful of his jacket, Addison pulled him backward and swung him around. “Lucky’s gone!” she shouted, dragging him after her. “We need to leg it!” Her strength and speed were impressive.

Blake had no choice but to shift his ass into high gear and go with her. He didn’t know what those women were armed with, but they clearly had the upper hand.

G
wen was just about to lift her hand and knock on Tessa’s door when Addison and Agent Whittaker came zooming up.

“Get in the house!” Addison warned, twisting the knob and flinging the door open. “We’ve got trouble!”

“What the—” Gwen had no time to finish her sentence. Whittaker barreled in from behind, practically shoving her under the threshold. “Move it!” he shouted.

Gwen stumbled into Addison, who tripped and hit the floor, skidding painfully on her hands and knees. This in turn scared the hell out of Tessa, who yelped and dropped the coffeepot in her hand. The pot shattered into a billion pieces. Shards of glass and boiling-hot coffee splattered everywhere.

Splashed by the hot liquid, Addison squealed and scrambled to her feet. “Ow! That fucking hurt!” Glass crunched under her tennis shoes.

Thoroughly pissed off, Tessa grabbed a roll of paper towels. “Quit clowning around, Addison!” she snapped.

“She isn’t clowning.” Whittaker slammed the door shut, and locked it. “I don’t know what’s going on, but we’re being attacked.”

Gwen’s jaw dropped. Tessa’s followed. “Attacked?” they chimed simultaneously.

Alarmed by the commotion in his kitchen, Kenneth Randall hurried in. “I thought I heard glass breaking. What happened?”

Gwen shrugged helplessly. One minute she’d been walking along. The next she’d been shoved into the middle of pandemonium. She had no clue about anything. For some reason Addison and Whittaker had all of a sudden turned into maniacs. “I don’t know.”

Addison supplied the answer. “That thing you said you took care of in the Mediterranean—I don’t think you quite finished the job.”

Recognizing the reference, Gwen felt the blood in her veins turn to ice. “Oh, my God,” she started to say. “They can’t be here.”

Addison gave her a wild look. “They are, and they’re about to play some catch up.” The words barely left her mouth before a blast hit the door behind Whittaker. Flaming bits and pieces of wood flew through the kitchen. A hole about the size of a baseball appeared, edges still smoking and sizzling from the intense detonation of energy against it.

Whittaker beat at the flames chewing up his jacket. “Shit, I’m on fire!”

Another sizzling blast tore through the door. A third followed. It was beginning to disintegrate. In another few minutes there would be nothing left.

Kenneth paled, the blood instantly draining from his face. “Everybody hit the basement,” he ordered. “Now!” He grabbed for his wife, pulling her over to his side.

Nobody questioned his command.

Realizing he didn’t know up from down, Gwen grabbed Whittaker’s arm. “This way,” she urged, dragging the confused agent in the direction Kenneth indicated.

One by one they clattered down the narrow staircase. Kenneth brought up the rear, herding them all toward the back of the basement. “Hit the safe room,” he snapped.

Hand still clamped around Whittaker’s arm, Gwen dragged him into a small concrete room. The final sliver of light disappeared when steel scraped against concrete.

Then everything was black. Pitch-black. The space was cold, the gloom impenetrable.

A minute later, a set of emergency lights snapped on.

Gwen blinked as the glare hit her eyes. So did everybody else.

Everyone looked around.

Addison was the first to find her voice. “I think we made it.”

Kenneth stood in front of a panel, punching more buttons. More lights came on. “It’s not finished, but I think we’ll be okay for a while.” His face took on a grim, shadowed cast.

Whittaker shook off Gwen’s hand. “People usually don’t have panic rooms unless they’re expecting trouble.” He turned an unblinking gaze toward Kenneth. “I take it those women who just tried to turn me into cinders are a part of that trouble.”

Kenneth’s jaw tightened. “You could say that.”

Whittaker nodded. Now that the shock of the moment had passed, his features had reverted back to immobile. His expression might have been cast in lead for all the emotion he was showing. “Mind telling me why they want to kill you?”

“I hope you’re prepared to stay a while,” Addison piped in. “This is going to be one hell of a long story.”

Gwen inwardly winced. The narrative involving Ishaldi and the opening of a tomb that was really a sea-gate-come-portal that led into another realm was almost too incredible to be believed. She’d hardly been able to comprehend the tale when she’d first heard it from beginning to end.

This is too much
.
Whittaker’s going to think we’re all nuts.

Or maybe he wouldn’t.

Given the fact he’d just been ambushed, he might have more of an open mind. Either way, the situation definitely sucked.

Kenneth hedged. “Let’s get settled in, first,” he finally said. “Then we’ll talk.”

Agent Whittaker shook his head. “No time. I need to get out of here, and get those people into custody.” He looked around. “Where’s the communications center?”

Kenneth ruefully pointed to a section of wall where another panel was installed. Unfortunately it was just a jumble of parts and wires. “We were still in the process of putting in a two-way radio system,” he explained ruefully.

“I’ll handle it.” Whittaker dug in his pocket and retrieved his cell. He flipped it open. “Damn.”

Gwen glanced at his phone, a sleek little ultramodern number. “Let me guess. No signal.”

“Right.” Whittaker flipped his phone shut. “So much for the global coverage Uncle Sam has been paying for.”

“Cell reception is iffy on the island,” Addison said. “There are some places around here where you can’t get a signal. That’s why we have to rely on the old shortwave radios for communication with the mainland.”