Siren Song

“Not really. My grandfather might have known something. But he’s been dead for years. Gran told me everything she knew. Maybe somebody at the university can help me. If nothing else, they probably have some information in the library. One way or another, I think I’m going to need a day pass.”

He scowled. “You aren’t due for a day pass. You certainly haven’t earned one. More to the point, I’m not positive the courts would approve. Whatever it is can wait until tomorrow when you have your hearing.”

“Can it?” It was a pointed question. “You’re the one who was complaining about the magic that thing’s giving off. I’d like to get it into the safe at my office. The layers of wards should be heavy enough to block whatever the Wadjeti is giving off.”

If I did get a pass I was also going to find an expert to check out the death curse. But I didn’t want to tell Jeff that unless I absolutely had to. It wasn’t easy with him sitting so close to me, but I was doing my best to make sure that he didn’t get a glimpse of that palm. Less easy but just as important, I was trying not to think about it so that he wouldn’t “overhear.”

Death curses are nasty, nasty business, dangerous to not only the victim but also those around them. My having one might get me kicked out of Birchwoods. I don’t think Jeff wanted to see me in the state prison/asylum, but I absolutely believed he was anxious to get away from me. And if I got kicked out of here, there was a good chance no one else would take me—and that would mean the state facility, unless charges were dismissed at my hearing. I wouldn’t need a death curse to get killed there.

“You’re not telling me everything.” Dr. Scott leaned back in his chair, steepling his fingers in front of his lips.

“Well . . . no,” I admitted, “but I’m not lying. And you really don’t want to know everything, do you?” That was a guess but a good one. The longer we talked, the more obvious his unease became.

He stared at me for a long moment in silence, his dark eyes burning with intensity. The tension built until he could stand it no longer. He spoke in a quiet voice, but his entire body was quivering, as if it was costing him everything he had to maintain control. “It doesn’t bother you at all, does it? We were kidnapped . . . tortured. You killed people.”

He sounded so damned judgmental. I felt sorry for him, but I was also angry. I’d saved his ass out there. They were going to kill us both. He knew it. He’d seen it in the driver’s mind. “What the hell was I supposed to have done? It was a professional kidnapping. We could have died—would have if it hadn’t been for Ivy’s intervention and my fighting abilities. You want someone to blame? Fine. But it damned well better not be me, because it wasn’t my fault.” I met Jeff’s gaze without backing down. I was pissed. How dare he sit there acting all high-and-mighty?

I continued. “Of course it bothers me. And it scares the hell out of me. Because they were pros—pros with police connections. But it wasn’t your fault. It wasn’t mine, either. And if it’s a choice between me and them, I choose me. I made up my mind about that a long time ago.”

“It’s not that simple.” He crumpled in the face of my anger. He was whispering and looking down at the palms of his hands in the classic “Lady Macbeth” pose. He was suffering, really suffering. He needed professional help.

“Yeah, it is.” I spoke as gently as I could. “Ultimately, it really is that simple. You don’t need to feel guilty. You didn’t kill anybody. And I only killed those who would have seen us dead.”

“That doesn’t make it any better.” He looked at me, his eyes haunted.

“It doesn’t?”

“No. You can’t imagine what it felt like to have him inside my mind—slicing, cutting just to hurt me. . . . It was—” He swallowed hard. “He laughed when I screamed and then did it again.” Dear lord, they’d raped him, as surely as if it had been his body. He’d been tortured. Just like I’d been, with Ivy. “I can’t even close my eyes at night without seeing flashes of raw magic.”

Well, shit. Then I really didn’t know how to help. I started to touch him and then realized it would be the wrong thing to do. Too personal. “Look, Jeff, you need to talk to somebody. You really do. Post-traumatic stress can do terrible things to a person if they don’t get help. You know that better than anyone. I know it from firsthand experience. You’ve been tortured. Just because you don’t have scars doesn’t mean you don’t have scars.”

I watched him fight to pull himself back together, saw the pleasant mask slide into place. In a minute, two at the most, he looked like his old self. It was a good act. Anyone who hadn’t seen him break down would never guess there was anything wrong.

“You can have the day pass. I’ll take care of the paperwork. It’ll be ready for you in a half hour.” He stood, the usual signal that it was time to go. I rose but didn’t move toward the door.

“I meant what I said. You need to get help. I know you don’t want anyone here to know, but if you go somewhere else—”

“Word can still get around,” he said sourly. “People talk. Oh, they don’t use names. But it always gets around. It’s too juicy not to.”

“Not if you make them take binding oaths.” My voice was cold, hard.

His eyebrows rose high enough to disappear beneath his hair. Obviously, I’d surprised him. Maybe it was that I cared enough to suggest it. Or maybe it was the whole “binding oath” thing. Most people aren’t willing to take a true binding. It impinges too much on their free will. And it’s not an easy thing to do. Only a top-flight magical practitioner or a true-believer cleric can pull it off. But if you can get it done, they are completely reliable.

“I’ll think about it.” I hoped he would. But I wasn’t sure.

He gestured toward the door with one hand. I was being dismissed.

I felt bad, but I couldn’t think of anything more I could do for him. So I left.

6

It took me an hour to leave Birchwoods. Thanks to Jeff’s orders to the staff, I was able to get my keys, cell phone, and some of my personal belongings. I made a few calls, making arrangements, and decided to change into real clothes. I was almost deliriously happy not to be wearing gray. Stupid, I know, but still true.

Most important, I needed to eat—or, rather, drink. Oooooh, baby. I was overdue and it was starting to show. Thus far I’ve avoided actual uncooked blood, even animal. The longer I can keep it that way, the better, as far as I’m concerned. I mean, ewwww. And even if I eventually have to do the animal blood thing for nutritional reasons, that’s as far as it will go. I am never going to taste human blood. Period. End of story.

Of course nobody else seems to believe that. They tell me that once I taste human blood, I’ll turn into a full vampire. And everyone seems to believe that someday I’ll “succumb.” I refuse to. I am not a fucking bat and I have no intention of becoming one. Still, temptation is definitely something to be avoided.

On the plus side, the chef here has taught me that it’s possible to have shakes that actually taste like what they were in the solid stage. I asked him to put together some recipes. It’ll be worth the money. We’ve been experimenting with baby food in hopes that I can eventually work my way up to solids.

For the moment, I asked for a repeat of the waffle shake, with an additional protein component of some kind to get my day started on the right nutritional footing. They said it would take a few minutes to put together, so I took my time picking what I wanted to wear from among the extremely limited choices available to me at the moment. In the end I decided on my favorite pair of faded blue jeans and a polo in a shade of blue. My hair is naturally silver blond and while my eyes are gray rather than blue, the shirt was in one of the few colors that didn’t look odd with my new complexion I decided to bring along a long-sleeved denim jacket and hat for practical reasons. Slathering on heavy-duty sunscreen works for a while, but when it wears off I can wind up with second- and third-degree burns in no time. They don’t scar, but they’re painful as hell. So like it or loathe it, I cover as much skin as I can during daylight hours.

I wished I had my weapons. Any weapons. But I hadn’t brought any with me to the wake, so I didn’t have