Siren Song

I hadn’t anticipated that, this whole situation could have gone very, very wrong.” She shook her head in mock sorrow. “I did warn you not to try anything. But some men just can’t resist playing the hero. I’ve no doubt my demon friend will enjoy using your sister as an appetizer prior to the main course.”

It explained the fetal ball that Emma was in. If she was actually seeing what was going to happen if the demon got loose . . . dear God.

I’d been working my hands the whole time. Finally, the tape tore. The ripping noise wasn’t loud, but I held my breath, waiting to see if Eirene would notice. She didn’t. She was too busy toying with Kevin.

“You bitch.” Kevin spit the words at her and then lunged, an inhuman growl rising from his throat.

Eirene’s expression darkened. I don’t know why the swearing angered her. I mean, seriously, she had to have heard it before and it certainly was richly deserved. Then again, sanity wasn’t her strong suit anymore—if it ever had been. She turned to Barnes. “Shoot him. But to wound, not kill. For that insult, he gets to watch them die.”

A pair of gunshots. Kevin screamed. I smelled blood and worse and my stomach heaved even as the glands at the back of my mouth tightened hungrily.

That finally pissed Vicki off. Kevin wasn’t her favorite person, but there was no way in heaven or hell that she was going to let Emma be tortured by a demon.

In the space of an eyeblink the temperature dropped and a pressure vacuum sucked air upward so that it was hard to breathe. The fire guttered in an instant of utter stillness before gale-force winds drove sand and debris into a swirling vortex that blotted out the night.

“Noooo!” Eirene screamed as she hit at the wind uselessly. Apparently she’d realized what I already had: in order to banish the spirits, she’d have to drop the spell circle. Of course, she couldn’t do that and still raise the demon, so she was quite literally screwed.

Dirt and debris peppered my face and arms, slicing away most of the hair on my skin like an electric sander. I had to narrow my eyes to slits or risk being blinded. The world had become a painful, seething brown soup inside a pressure kettle. I could barely hear Eirene’s scream of rage over the howl of the sand-laden winds that staggered her like a blow. Through slitted eyes I watched her reach into her pocket, knew what she intended to do.

“No!” I gasped as I launched myself forward. Grabbing her ankle, I pulled with every ounce of vampire, siren, and human strength I possessed. She went down and I saw the disk fly from her fingers before her body slammed against the unforgiving earth hard enough to stun her. I used that precious instant to crawl on top of her. Sand blasted against my skin as I pulled her gun from its holster. Heavy objects were being blown now, too—sticks, rocks, and chunks of cactus slammed into my body. I could barely see. Tears were streaming down my face. But I switched off the safety and pointed the gun between those startlingly beautiful eyes.

I saw her start to regain her strength, saw realization and consciousness flow back into her eyes. And as I watched her gather herself for one last desperate fight I thought of Bruno.

Of him singing in the shower. Her shower.

Of him in her bed, having sex, looking down at her and smiling.

I gathered every image I could imagine of the two of them together, focusing them, making them real, until jealousy filled me like water fills a cup.

It took just a second too long. She fought with the desperation of the doomed and damned. She began clawing, kicking, and biting: raining blows on my body, bucking and squirming. She screamed out nearly unpronounceable words and I felt the barrier surrounding the encampment go down. The sudden release of pressure hit me hard, the equivalent of a pocket of turbulence on a plane ride. The wind rushed out and the sand with it.

She struck.

I cursed as she knocked the gun from my grasp. In a hand-to-hand struggle, we were almost perfectly matched. I still had the advantage; I was on top, and despite her best efforts, she couldn’t get out from under me. I felt her call in my head as she tried to summon the men to her aid. I felt them responding, trying to get to her, despite the fury of the tornadic winds that tried to kick up the storm again. Vicki was really doing herself proud. If this didn’t kill her, I’d buy her something nice. There must be something that a ghost needs.

But first, I had to survive. If Eirene succeeded in taking control of the minds of every male here, it was over: for me, for Emma, and for Kevin.

Fuck that.

I gathered my will, using everything I’d learned on Serenity to throw out my own call. Yes, it was the caw of seagulls versus the sweet melody of songbirds. But there is something very compelling about gulls and I used it to my advantage. I used the energy of my rage, hurt, and fear as fuel to power it. My mind met hers in a battle for the hearts and wills of the men we could reach. The fight was every bit as desperate as the physical battle we were fighting. I didn’t feel Kevin, and even angry as I was at him, I hoped he didn’t feel this, that it wouldn’t control him. In fact, I only felt some of her men. Were the others dead? Gone? I didn’t know. I only knew I couldn’t let her control those who were left.

The power of our clashing wills was too much. I felt their minds flicker like candles in the wind, felt their sanity and will snuffed out.

No! I didn’t mean to—

“You’re weak, Celia!” She said the words out loud, saving her mental energy for the struggle. “You actually care for these pitiful humans.” She considered my guilt a weakness and tried to use it against me. That was a mistake. Yes, I would have to live with the knowledge of what we’d just done for the rest of my life. But Eirene made the mistake of putting a person who’d been a victim in a corner. Every survivor has already been faced with a life-or-death decision and chosen life. Nothing else matters once that choice has been made.

I dived off of her, reaching for the gun.

She scrambled to her feet, but I lashed out in a vicious kick of my bound feet to her knee. Even over the wind I heard the grinding wet pop as it bent backward and tore. She screamed in agony, swallowing sand as she did.

I had the gun. I turned, watching as she crawled away from me as fast as she could manage.

It was hard to see but not as hard as it had been. The winds were dying down. Vicki and Ivy had worn themselves out. I could see Eirene well enough to aim. So I did. I aimed my weapon and thought of Bruno locked in a postcoital embrace with her. I embraced my jealousy. Then I pulled the trigger.

26

I lay on the ground for long minutes, utterly exhausted. The barrier was down. Which meant I could call for help. If only I had the energy. But my mind was as exhausted as my body. My head hurt and at the same time felt strangely empty. The power I’d come to recognize and use these past few weeks was gone. Maybe forever.

I looked around the encampment. Moon- and starlight illuminated a strange and eerie scene. Everything was coated with dust and debris. The dome tents had been pulled up from the ground to roll where they would. One of them was upside down, pressed up against a rock outcropping.

One of the men was lying on his back, breathing but utterly limp, his eyes wide open and empty staring at the night sky. Another sat up, drool tracking from his mouth through the coating of dust that covered a face that was vacant of any semblance of intellect.

I felt a new wave of guilt and my stomach lurched. I did that. At least part of it. I didn’t feel guilty about killing Eirene. But this, oh, God, yes.

Movement and moaning to my left. I turned to see Kevin struggling to free himself of the enveloping sand, some of which was wet and stained dark with his blood. His motions were getting slower with each beat of his heart. Not far from him, Emma stirred. She was coated with dust but not buried, whether from a trick of the winds or by Vicki’s and Ivy’s deliberate action I had no clue.

I didn’t have the energy to stand, even if my feet weren’t still bound. But I had to try to help. Yeah, I was mad at him . . . furious, in fact. But it was his sister he’d been trying to save.