Siren Song

knew you were the one who poisoned my daughter against me. You influenced her, manipulated her. Bitch, I swear you won’t see a dime of the money.”

Why wasn’t I surprised?

Vicki interrupted. “Celia had nothing to do with my decisions, Mom. This is all me. Just me, and if you’d only listened when I tried to tell you, Celia . . .” She paused and looked my way and panic was suddenly etched in her voice. “No! Celia! John, do something!”

I turned to Creede and saw a bright flash of red light. Creede flung one arm toward me and I flew across the room, hit the wall, and slid down to the floor. His other hand was thrust in the opposite direction. I heard glass breaking and the sound of a rifle shot far in the distance.

The lights came up abruptly and hanging in the air where I had been sitting was a copper-jacketed bullet, a Glaser round that expanded on impact. They’re used by the police when they don’t want stray bullets going through walls to kill innocents in the next room and by bodyguards everywhere who want to make sure that a shot into a bad guy doesn’t kill their client. Vicki’s ghost zoomed down from the ceiling to hover around me protectively. I wasn’t sure cold gas could do much, but it was a nice thought. Gran was likewise by my side in seconds.

I could feel the pulse of incredibly powerful magic sealing the entire length of the windows. The second and third bullets never made it through, just hovered in the air, not quite touching the glass, outside the window. The magic raised the hairs on my skin, more a caress than a sting. The sensation was soft and electric, close to erotic, and pulled at parts of my body that shouldn’t be excited by a near assassination. I really didn’t want my body equating nearly dying with sex, so I refused to look at Creede to see if it was intentional or not.

I didn’t know many mages who could pull off a shield this powerful just with raw power and no prior spell. Even Bruno might struggle with that. There was a box of tissues sitting on the table; Creede took one and used it to keep his fingerprints off the bullet as he plucked the bullet out of the air. “The police will want this.” He looked up at the screen. “Any idea where it came from?”

Vicki shook her head, looking actually shaken from the experience. “No idea. Sorry. I only saw the red light. It looked like a laser sight on a gun. Apparently, this is why I invite you to the party. I’ll definitely have to spend some time to figure out how to get you here, since you’re working for my parents right about now. Hmmm—”

She dropped into her own thoughts while everybody watched me struggle to my feet. The slam against the wall hadn’t done my back any good, for which Creede at least seemed a little embarrassed. But I waved off the apology that was about to escape from his mouth, even though I still couldn’t look him full in the face while my body struggled to shake off the effects of his magic. “No apologies. I’ll be fine in a few minutes. Great thing, vampire metabolism. And nice job with the window. Can you keep that up for the rest of this, or should we get the heck out of here until they find the shooter?”

Barney Arons was busy typing on his laptop while Vicki mulled on the screen. “No, we’ll stay here. I’ve just activated the emergency shields for this floor and have e-mailed Becky to call the police. Nothing, not even a bullet or a bomb, can get in or out of this room for the next hour. So please sit down. I’d frankly forgotten about this part of the event after a year or I would have put up better shields. I should have watched the tape before the appointment.”

“And yet, Vicki knew you wouldn’t. So she made alternate plans.”

“An amazing woman.” He shook his head in renewed awe. “Mr. Creede, you may release your shields whenever you feel appropriate.”

“I’ll leave them up until someone flies up to collect the bullets. I wouldn’t want them disappearing.”

“Again I thank you for the compliment.” Vicki was back with us. “Now, this reminds me. Celia, I know you distrust most people. Sadly, you have reason. But let me assure you now that John Creede, even if he can be an ass occasionally, is being honest with you. About what, I don’t know. But you can trust him. Trust me. You’ll need him soon, so please know you can rely on his skill and his courage.”

This time, it was John who let out a snort. “Even if I can be an ass occasionally. There’s a ringing endorsement.”

I couldn’t help but smile as I picked up the chair, righted it, and settled painfully down. “That’s about the best you’ll get from Vicki. She was nothing if not a realist.”

“Now,” she said, right on cue, “let’s finish up quickly before anything else happens. Sybil, I’m leaving you my clothes, jewelry, furs, and Cadillac convertible. I’m sorry you got sucked into the middle of my life. It was bad enough for one of us to live it. At least you can sell the furs and buy some new clothes.” She turned her head. “I mean, really, Mom. Her clothes? You took back her clothes? For what? What could possibly be the purpose in that?”

My jaw dropped. I knew Cassandra Meadows could be a bitch, but that was ridiculous! I agreed with Vicki.

“They weren’t hers. I bought them. I paid for them. They were just a uniform and I had every right to take them back when the job ended.”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa.” The outraged voice belonged to Jason. “Cass, when you said you’d retrieved ‘our belongings’ from Ms. Jones, you didn’t say anything about clothing. Good god, hon. That makes no sense.”

Cassandra’s mouth was tight-lipped, so it was Sybil who spoke up. “The people who showed up at the door were from one of the local charities. They were very nice about it and I probably wouldn’t have minded much if I’d had warning. But it was a surprise.”

Oh, for heaven’s sake. Jason let out an exasperated breath. “Of course, we’ll have your clothing returned to you, Sybil. And if that’s not possible, I’ll personally replace it. Please pardon my wife. Apparently, grief has made her . . . well, anyway, we’ll get your things back to you. It’s the least we can do.”

“Thank you, Daddy,” said Vicki from the screen. She took a deep breath and let it out slow. “The residue of my estate, other than a few minor bequests and what I’ve given to you already, less what will be expended in the Will contest suit, will be divided as follows. One-quarter goes to Heather Alexander, the love of my life. It’s not enough to show you how much you meant to me, but money’s all I have to give now.”

Alex’s lip was trembling and Sybil reached out to touch her hand gently. “Next, a quarter will be donated to the Birchwoods Therapy Center for the sole purpose of creating a new building. The Ivy Graves Center for Gifted Children will be built and fully funded for the next ten years through investments and bonds. Dr. Scott, I leave it to you to handle the details. You know my wishes after all those weeks coming up with a curriculum and program, for both inpatient and outpatient care. Emily, I wanted you and Celia to both be here to hear the news. Celia, of course you will have a quarter of my income, even though I know you’ll probably give it to the Center. But do try to keep a little for yourself. You really do deserve it.”

Jeff Scott bowed his head gently and then looked up at the ceiling to where Vicki’s ghost had returned after the threat to me was gone. “I know your wishes and I’ll take care of it.”

Gran let out a sob that could be either joy or sorrow and I couldn’t deny that I was getting choked up. It was more than I’d ever dreamed Vicki would do and I honestly didn’t know how to respond. She was right, though. If it was between me and a center for other messed-up magical kids, the kids would win. I’d just sign over the check wholesale when I got it. I could still make my own money. I didn’t need hers.

Creede handed me the box of tissues as Vicki spoke again. “If such a center had existed when you were young, maybe Ivy could have learned to use her gifts to protect herself before . . . well, before. And maybe if I’d had early training, I wouldn’t have wound up in a nuthouse for most of my life.”

The room erupted in explosions of sound, as everyone who knew Vicki rejected that statement. But she held up a hand. “Nope. Folks, I appreciate the support, but I am very nearly nuts. I tried my damnedest to have a normal relationship with each of you, but it was hard. So very hard. Just ask Dr. Scott. Every visit from you, no matter how much appreciated, came at a price. I hid it well, but the stress has been getting to me for some time. I’m making this tape now because I’m still fully in my right mind, competent by both legal and medical standards to dispose of my estate. That’s why you’ll lose your suit, Mom.”

Cassandra let out a very unladylike snort.

The ghost floated down from the ceiling and hovered right in front of her mother’s face. Then it drifted down the table until it was in front of Sybil. The apparition vanished and Sybil’s head dropped face-first to the stone table with a crunch that made me wince. After a moment, she sat back up, but Sybil wasn’t home anymore. The woman sitting next to Alex was Vicki Cooper. I could see it in her eyes, in the way she held her body. Alex flinched and swallowed hard but didn’t move away. I was proud of her for that. No matter how much she loved Vicki, sitting next