To Seduce A Siren (16 page)

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Authors: Jane Cousins

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BOOK: To Seduce A Siren
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Nate
got to his feet, picking up the nearest lantern. “Time to get dinner organised.” 

“Nate?” 
Charisse scooped up the remaining lantern following him to the kitchen. 
“I’m not trying to be… high-maintenance.  I’m just telling you here and
now, that you and I… together…”  She stopped talking, realising that she
had Nate’s full, an undivided attention, as he leaned back against the kitchen
bench, watching her intently, waiting for her to finish her rambling
sentence.  “…. Er.”

“Don’t
stop now.”  He folded his arms, cocking his head to the side slightly. “It
almost sounded like you were about to stop with all the half-truths and tell me
something important.”

“Nate.” 
She took a deep breath in frustration.   “I’m…” The words practically
hurt to say but she forced them out.  “… not like other girls.”

“No
you’re not Cyd.”  He nodded solemnly in agreement.

“What
do you mean by that crack?” She folded her own arms across her body, now
glaring at him.

“You
can’t get upset when I agree with you… come on, spit it out, the rest of what
you need to say, I’m getting hungry.”

“This
is not a joke Nate.”  She felt tears begin to gather, determinedly pushing
them away.  He had no idea how hard, how isolating it was to be her, to be
a Siren. 

“And
I’m not laughing.  I get that things are complicated for you Cyd. 
Knew that the moment I laid eyes on you.  And I know that whatever you’re
dealing with, you have to face it on your own terms.  That it’s your fight
to win or lose.  But that doesn’t mean you have to push everyone away,
keep them at a distance, be alone, does it?”

Charisse
hugged herself tighter as Bettina clamped down hard on their bond, sending a
timely reminder that she loomed ever large in her life.  Thinking dagger
like thoughts back she was pleased when Bettina retreated.  Now where was
she with Nate?  Nowhere it seems, he had already turned his back on her
and moved over to start laying out plates and cutlery.  Then he was
grabbing a couple of tea towels, lifting something divine smelling out of the
ancient oven. 

“Grab
a couple of wine glasses would you?  Oh, and the salad from the fridge,
I’ll serve up the lasagna.  We can eat in the kitchen tonight.”

Five
minutes later Charisse was sipping a lovely glass of merlot and contemplating
Nate across the rickety oval kitchen table as he dug into his meal.
 
“I don’t push people away.”  She couldn’t let
the conversation drop, Goddess damn her.

“Sure
you do.”  Nate picked up his own glass, savouring the ruby red
liquid.  “You think you’re protecting them.  It must have been hard
growing up in this community, surrounded by all this magic. By all these people
with amazing powers and yet still be apart from them.”

Double
damn him and his intuition.  Blinking furiously as lightning lit up the
room, she concentrated on shovelling food into her mouth.  She’d need fuel
to fight Bettina now that the rock was almost back to her normal level of
power.  Wondering what sneaky trick the bitch-rock would come up with next
to try and bring her back into line?  Hurt Nate again? 

She
couldn’t let that happen but nor would she be able to ignore Bettina’s pull
soon. Grrr, how had her life swerved so dramatically out of her control so darn
quickly?
 
Before Nate she’d been
perfectly… well not happy… and not particularly content, living with the not so
metaphorical gigantic rock on her shoulder, but she’d been…?  Enduring? 
Coasting?  Existing? 

Goddess,
when had she stopped fighting Bettina and started managing her?  Placating
her?  Avoiding confrontations?  Shit, exactly at what moment, in the
last fifteen years, had she become so fucking complacent with her situation?

It
had taken Nate to shake up her world.  A man just as likely to scowl at
her as he was to gift her with a sexy taunting smile.  Either expression
made her sex damp and her heart race.  He was so damn compelling with
those whiskey coloured eyes of his, where bolts of sunlight danced and
flared.  Full of intent, of promise, of wicked take no prisoners (unless
you had a penchant for being tied up) heat. 

Goddess
he tempted her.  To take chances.  To abandon her responsibilities.
She wanted to take him to the floor, kiss, lick and taste him.  Spend
hours exploring all that lean golden muscular flesh until they were both
boneless with fatigue and sated.  Then she would whisper in his ear,
confide all her secrets, her link to Bettina, her burden, her shame. 

For
Goddess sake, the man would run a mile, who wouldn’t?

Suddenly
she couldn’t eat another bite, her stomach churning.  She’d managed to
force down half of what she’d been served, that would have to be enough. 
Wiping her mouth with her napkin she pushed away her plate before picking up
her glass of wine.  Outside the lightning and thunder had eased off but
the rain continued a steady distant drum on the roof three storeys above their
heads.

“You
okay there Cyd?”

She
forced a rueful smile.  “Just thinking of all the responsibilities I have
on the back burner right now, commitments, deadlines, that sort of thing. 
What about you?  Don’t you have a weekly TV show to film?”

Nate
shrugged, finishing the last of his lasagna.  “You know the show is just a
smoke and mirrors cover for our real missions?”

“Yes,
Hadleigh has mentioned more than once that the segments you film for the show
are meant to be nothing more than… distractions.”

Nate
laughed.  “Knowing Hadleigh she probably said they were a waste of time,
but they’re not.  It’s a great way to generate tips for one thing. 
Even with all our resources we can only monitor so much.  You’d be shocked
at the number of people, who not wanting to be labelled kooky by the mainstream
law enforcement arms, reach out to us instead.  Credible threats we can
deal with off-camera, discreetly and efficiently.”

Charisse
nodded.  “And if you’re seen out and about in combat gear swinging an axe
or shooting off a flamethrower, you tell people it’s all just part of the
show?”

“Exactly. 
We’ve deliberately created a show that has just enough action, tension and
wobbly - blink and you might have missed it - camera shots that mean half our
audience think it’s all real and the other half believe it’s all staged.”

Charisse
laughed.  “So the very real scary monster can be explained away as an
actor dressed in a rubber suit?”

“Sure
why not, we deal with the bad guy, then hand out business cards and tell people
to tune into the show.”

“Then
shouldn’t you be filming or something?”

Nate
shook his head, finishing the last of his wine.  “The grommets who run the
tech will add in some audio I’ve done from previous shows as well as some shots
of me running down an anonymous dark corridor.  Smoke and mirrors.
 Between the bad lighting, intentional blips and wobbly camera angles no
one will notice.”  Nate grinned broadly.  “Trying to get rid of me
Cyd?”

“Just
checking you’re really up there on that roof as you claim rather than out partying.”

“Tell
you what, tomorrow I’ll put you in a harness and take you up there.” 

“Then
who would finish sanding back the bannister?  No thanks.” 

“You
realise that’s only the ground to first floor bannister you’ve started working
on?  You have two other floors to do if you’re setting yourself a goal.”

Goddess,
did he really expect she’d be here that long?  It was a matter of a day or
two before Bettina was back at full strength and demanding her presence,
wanting to be fed.  “Have you thought of tracking Destiny and her gang
back to their daytime lair?  They can’t be too far away.”

“Destiny
may be crazy but she’s not dumb.  I’ve seen her travel miles in a matter
of seconds when she gets motivated.  I’ve already asked Drum if he’d be
able to track her but he thinks the ocean spray and all the levels of salt in
the air around here would block his abilities.”

Damn,
damn, damn.  She grabbed her plate and his.  “You got the meal
together; it’s only fair that I clean up.”

“You
sure you’re okay Cyd?  If I’ve said something out of line?  If I’ve
offended you?”

Charisse
concentrated on filling the sink with water to clean the dishes.  “I’m
fine, just tired.  Unused to all this physical exertion.  Once I
finish in here I think I’ll head to bed.”  She held her breath, praying
that he wouldn’t push her further.

Nate
studied her bent head, her hair glinting with red lights thanks to the glow of
the lanterns.  He wanted answers from this frustrating woman.  More
than that, he wanted her to stop fighting her attraction to him.  But
suddenly she seemed fragile and she did look tired.  Coming to a decision
he stood up, he wouldn’t push for more from her right now, no matter how
frustrated he was. 

Maat,
he needed something to take his mind off her.   “Well if you need me
for anything, I’ll be in the library, pulling up floorboards.”

Charisse
gripped a slippery plate with two hands… need him for anything?  Of course
she didn’t, she was an independent, take charge, had everything under control,
Siren.  Need him for anything?  She scoffed mentally.  The man
was full of it… and he was taking his t-shirt off.  Why was he doing that?
 

His
ripped abs and chest displayed to golden perfection for just a moment before he
turned to exit the room whistling.  That bastard.  Why couldn’t he
keep a shirt on?  She’d be lucky to sleep a wink tonight. 

Then
she smiled, well at least she had a soft bed on which to rest.  Mr - I
haven’t met a shirt I couldn’t get out of in two point one seconds - would be
sleeping on the hard floor tonight… served that taunting devil right.

 

 

Chapter
Fourteen

 

“There’s
something wrong with Charisse.”

Nate
was already running before Surly Dave’s words fully penetrated his
consciousness. The crowbar he’d been using to pry away the panelling of a
section of wall on the third floor still gripped in his hand.  Thank the
Sands and last night’s storm he’d been working inside this morning.  He
hit the stairs at Mach two, not caring he’d long left Dave behind.  He
needed…. had, to get to Cyd.

He
was barely aware of Trevor and Colin parting to let him through, his pace
slowing as Charisse came into view.  She was seated about half-way up the
staircase, between the ground and first floor, all her focus on sanding one of
the bannister spindles. 

At
first glance nothing appeared out of the norm, Cyd was wearing black shorts,
smeared with dust, an olive green V-necked t-shirt and bright red sneakers on
her feet.  Her hair was back in a bouncy pony-tail, swaying gently as she
moved.

He
glanced back at Trevor and Colin.  Had he got it wrong?  Was this
some silly trick?  No, the brothers looked genuinely concerned, Colin
actually wringing his hands in worry.

Moving
at a steady pace so as not to surprise her, Nate knelt on the staircase just
below her.
 
He yanked down
the bandanna he’d been using to shield his nose and mouth. “Cyd?”  He
frowned.  Damn, her colouring was weird.  She was ghostly pale except
for two bright spots of colour high on her cheeks as if she was running a
fever.  There was perspiration on her forehead and her breathing was too
fast and slightly ragged.  “Cyd?”  He tried calling her name
again.  But all her attention was locked on the spindle she was sanding.

That
was when he saw the blood dripping down the spindle, the piece of sandpaper
she’d been using had rubbed away long ago.  It was like she was sleep
walking or caught in a fugue state.  What the fuck? 

He
was tempted to grab her but something made him hesitate.  He caught a
sound, a low mutter and realised her lips were moving.  What was she
saying?  He leaned in closer to hear her whisper ‘
I don’t belong to you’
over and over again.

He
caught a hint of movement just below her heart.  Shit, that invisible to
everyone but him black entity that all but encased her psyche was going crackerjack-box
crazy.  It had two rigid tentacles encircled around her waist and even as
he watched a third came into view, sliding up between her breasts, headed in
the direction of her throat.  Without pausing to consider the
ramifications, he enclosed his large hand around her slender throat a split
second before the tentacle settled into place. 

It
appeared to flinch for a moment as it came into contact with his flesh before
tightening abruptly.  Nate resisted, flexing his hand outwards, no way was
he letting this thing hurt Cyd.  After a few seconds the entity seemed to
realise squeezing was futile.  It changed tactics, sending sharp,
teeth-clenching pulses of electricity down its length.  Nate grit his
teeth, fighting the urge to clench his hand into a fist.  It would be a
poor showing indeed if by trying to protect Cyd; he accidently ended up
throttling her. 

A
minute passed and then two.  The electrical pulses came and went with
varying degrees of intensity.  As if the thing was testing him.  He bought
his other hand up to try and pry it free but couldn’t seem to get a purchase on
it, shit.

“Ummm.”

Nate
had forgotten about Dave and his sons.  Glancing to the left he found Dave
hovering there, his face white with concern and confusion.  Dave’s hand
instinctively reaching for the crowbar Nate had dropped. After all, to him and
the boys, it probably looked like Nate was trying to choke Charisse. 
Great, just what he didn’t need, three wannabe white knights distracting him
from the real problem.  Nate didn’t let go of Cyd but he swung a leg
around, slamming his boot down on the crowbar. 

He
switched his focus back to the more immediate problem.  The tentacle
wrapped around his hand and by default Cyd’s throat, was growing bigger,
thickening.  He glanced down noting the two tentacles that had been
wrapped around Cyd’s waist were receding, as if they were feeding all their
strength into the one wrapped around his hand.

Abruptly
Cyd blinked and stopped sanding, frozen in place she glanced down at Nate, surprise
widening her green eyes.  “Nate?”  Her voice just above a whisper.

“I’ve
got you Cyd.  Just don’t move.”

Her
eyes flicked down to his arm and the hand she couldn’t see but only feel around
her throat.  “Why…” 

They
both flinched as another pulse of electricity travelled through the
tentacle. 

“Charisse
are you alright?”  Dave demanded in her ear, causing her to flinch
again. 

“You
need to tell them to leave Cyd.”  Nate clenched out between gritted teeth.

Cyd
was a little confused, last thing she remembered she’d been sanding when
Bettina began to bite and chew at their bond with what seemed to border on
rabid determination.
 
Focusing on her
breathing, on the rhythm of sanding she’d been successful in blocking bitch-rock’s
demands when the attack had escalated and… nothing. 

Next
thing she knew, she was waking up to find Nate kneeling before her, for some
reason his hand was wrapped around her throat and Bettina was far from happy
with his interference. 

“Charisse,
should I call someone?”  Dave tried again.

Nate
shook his head, his concentration on keeping Cyd safe and that thing… whatever
it was, at bay.

“Everything’s
fine… Dave.  You and the boys have been… great.”  She hissed out a
breath as Bettina shot another pulse through her… ouch.  “I’ll…”  She
blinked back unshed tears.  She would not give the bitch the
satisfaction.  “Call you… okay?”

“Umm.” 
Still Dave hesitated.

It
cost Charisse a lot to force a low sultry laugh, sending her voice to wrap
around Dave and his two sons.  “I promise.  The sooner you leave, the
sooner I’ll call.”

Nate
rolled his eyes as the three men tromped down and out of the house
speedily.  “One of these days.”  He pushed back on the pain. 
“You’re going to tell me how you do that.”

“Sure.” 
Charisse managed a small nod.  “One of these days.  So Sheriff, you
want to fill me in on what’s going on?”

“Well
Cyd, we seem to be at a bit of an impasse…”  He clenched his teeth for a
moment, as another bolt of energy passed through him. “You want to tell me what
the hell this thing is that has you in a choke hold?”

“You…” 
Charisse let out a slow breath as the pain from Bettina’s last zap began to
recede.  “You can see it?” 

“I
can see something, that’s for fuck sure, and I’d like to know what the hell it
is?  And what the hell it wants from you?”

“I’m
not…”  Her back arched as a particularly powerful jolt slammed through
her, causing Nate to swear one second later as it hit him. 

“This
thing is really starting to piss me off Cyd.”  He watched as the tentacle
slowly began to shrink in width, the pressure on his hand lessening. 

“I…”

He
held up his other hand to stop her.  “Hold on, I think it’s
retreating.”  Yeah it was, the tentacle unfurling completely and
slithering back in to the meta-physical nest it had created around her psyche,
just below her heart.

“Yes.” 
Charisse breathed deeply, twice.  Bettina must have exhausted herself
expending all that energy, served her right, trying to dominate their bond like
that.  She relaxed her shoulders, suddenly aware that her right hand was
throbbing.  Ouch, she’d rubbed it raw whilst she’d be battling Bettina
internally, fighting the pull of the rock bitch.  “I think… I think you
can let go of my throat now.”  She wiped a trembling hand over her face as
Nate slowly, cautiously, released his hold.  Goddess, she couldn’t believe
Nate, it was hardly the time for him to be staring at her breasts… no, slightly
lower than that.  What the hell was he looking at?  She glanced down
at her tummy, couldn’t see anything different.  “Is it still there?” 
She forced herself to ask, even though she already knew the truth. 
Rubbing her hand over the spot just below her breasts, she could feel nothing
there but a lingering ache from where the bolts of power had originated from.

“Yeah,
it’s still there.  Cyd…”  He badly wanted to reach out and cradle her
gorgeous pale face but he needed answers more than he needed to indulge the
urge to touch her.  “So help me Maat, if you don’t start talking, I’m
going to shake the truth out of you.”

Charisse
chuffed a laugh, wincing as her ribcage protested. Damn, that bitch Bettina had
sunk her teeth in deep this time.  She must be getting mighty frustrated
with her pet Siren. 

Staring
down at Nate, seated the step below her, she took in the messy sun-streaked
hair falling to his shoulders and into his eyes.  Those gorgeous light
coloured eyes of his, it was like looking at candlelight through a pane of
amber.  And Goddess forbid the man wear a t-shirt.  Grime and streaks
of dirt clung to his rock hard abs, magnificent chest and those arms… Goddess,
take a look at those arms of his. 

It
was funny, with the black bandanna hanging loose around his neck it made her
think of the Sheriff he once was, the warrior he was now.  Shake her…
right.  Even coming out of a trance to find his large hand wrapped around
her throat and a fierce scowl on his face, she’d known instantly that Nate had
been trying to protect her, not hurt her.

“I…” 
She drew in a slightly shaky breath.  How could she start?  What
could she even say?  Nate could see the link?  Was it a stain? A
nightmare?  Though she saw neither horror nor disgust in those whiskey
coloured depths, just determination and… heat. “Nate…” 

Nate
made a grab for her as out the corner of his eye he saw of a flicker of
movement.  Four whip cord thin tentacles flicking out from her core,
encircling her around the waist and upper body and just like that… she was
gone.  “Cyd!”

Fuck. 
What had just happened?  One moment she’d been sitting before him, then
poof, she was gone. 

He
roared her name again.  Sprinting down the stairs, he burst out of the
house, blinking as the noon day sun blazed down on him.

Where? 
Where could she be?  Her eyes had widened in surprise and dismay the split
second before she’d disappeared.  Where ever she’d been taken, Cyd hadn’t
wanted to go.  Turning his head instinctively, his eyes were drawn to the
rock… her rock.

*                        
*                     
*

Charisse
bit back a scream of frustration.  On her hands and knees she glared down
at the rock with hate filled eyes.  Taking short shallow breaths as pain
racked her body, her insides felt hollowed out and raw.  Beneath her,
Bettina emoted smug gloating satisfaction before sending out a wave of
possessiveness and hunger, causing Charisse to sway and almost buckle under its
weight. 

With
a shaking hand Charisse rubbed her middle, a litany of curses running through
her head.  It was like being at the mercy of a playground bully, pay up or
take another beating.

“You
had no right to do that, you evil, hissy-fit throwing shrew.”  Charisse
gathered her strength, staggering to her feet.  “You aren’t even close to
starving yet… but could you wait, be patient?  Of course not, because
you’re the uber-bitch rock, dragging me around like a fricking tea cup
poodle.   I swear to the Goddess above, if you ever zap me here
against my will again, I’ll invest in a drill and start carving pieces off of
you.”

She
closed her eyes, counting to ten and taking several more deep breaths,
wondering what Nate must be thinking.  Seriously, could this incident get
any more embarrassing?  Way to tempt fate Charisse, she inwardly flinched
at the sound of booted feet approaching rapidly.

Nate
strode across the rock like he owned the damn thing.  His trousers
plastered to him, his boots steadily leaking water, a grim expression on his
face.   The man wasn’t even panting but he must have set practically
a world record to swim out here that fast.

“Please
tell me you did not just dive off Corkscrew Point again?  Do you have a
death wish?”  She couldn’t believe he’d survived the dive yet again.

Nate
abruptly swung out and down with the crowbar she hadn’t registered he was
carrying.  It hit the rock, sparks flying high.  Through their bond,
Charisse felt Bettina actively cringe in fear. 

“I
don’t know who I’m angrier at right now Cyd, you, or this blasted rock you’ve
let dig its claws into you.”

“You
don’t get to judge me Nate.”  She wrapped her arms around her waist.

“Well
someone bloody well should, what did you bargain for?  Youth? 
Beauty?  The ability to enslave men?  Was it worth it Cyd?”

“You
don’t understand…”

“I
understand perfectly.”  His whisky eyes flared with dark heat.  “This
rock, it owns your ass.”

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