When Sirens Screech: A Mayhem of Magic World Story (Bedlam in Bethlehem Book 3)

by Nicole Zoltack

  Ten minutes pass before he joins me on the front porch. “She’s upstairs, resting. What the Hell is going on that you couldn’t risk telling me in front of her?”

  “Sir, we have a bit of a situation.”

  “Back to sir, are we?” He snorts.

  “Would you rather I call you—”

  “You ever call me by my first name, Tempest, and I swear I will lock you in a cell and throw away the key. You tell anyone my first name, and I will lock you in that same cell. I will then swallow the key and flush it down the toilet with my next dump. Do you understand?”

  “Understood loud and clear, but, sir, are you really that worried about Dorcas? Seriously, we have more important matters to attend to.”

  “Spit it out, Tempest.”

  I gaze out into the night. Here, it seems peaceful. The stars are bright. No clouds in the sky. The moon has a strange halo.

  The lieutenant lives on the outskirts of Bethlehem. The sirens haven’t reached his house. Hopefully, none of the bombs are near here. I don’t even know how the effort is going myself. There’s no hint of a fire anywhere, and we haven’t heard an explosion, so maybe we’re all right.

  So far.

  But a lot can happen in a minute.

  Or even in thirty seconds.

  What kind of a monster has bombs set off to blow in thirty seconds? I guess they have to be activated remotely.

  “Tempest? Are you going to make me pull teeth? Because I’m not a dentist, and it’s going to hurt. Big time.”

  “Bombs all over the city. Her and a friend. I marked off all the spots. They’re being detonated as we speak.”

  “How many?”

  “One hundred and eleven between the two of them.”

  He mutters a curse.

  “And that’s if they were the only duo going out tonight. Or another night. The truth is that we don’t know for sure how many bombs are out there.”

  His expletives become louder and are now pointed in my direction. “Don’t you think you should’ve let me know about this earlier?”

  “We had a situation here that I tried to use to the best of my abilities. You have a solid team around you. They know the drill. They don’t need you to bark orders.” I quirk a smile. “Plus I called in some extra bomb-sniffing dogs.”

  He wipes a hand wearily down his red face. “Are you telling me that—”

  “Yes. The wolves are helping.”

  “Can they be trusted?”

  “More so than the others.”

  He rubs his throat. “What in the Hell am I supposed to do now?” After a moment, he nods. “You. Stay here with Kat.”

  “What?”

  No way. He can’t be serious. I have too much to do. I need to get back in the fight. I need to nail this siren. Rip out her vocal chords or something. Silence her screeching one way or another. That he wants to chain me down with a ball and chain is infuriating, frustrating, and downright insulting.

  “But—” I start again.

  “I don’t want to leave her alone, and I have to know what’s going on with the… situation.”

  His face gets redder and redder with every word he’s saying. Volcano Reynolds is getting ready to explode with anger and fury.

  “I have to handle it,” he adds. “I need to know if I can trust you to stay here with her.”

  “That’s a negative,” I throw back his words at him. “Sir,” I add as an afterthought.

  It almost bothers me that I’m talking to my former boss in such a disrespectful, humiliating tone.

  Almost.

  Because what he’s asking of me is crossing the line, and he knows it.

  “You aren’t my boss, and I’m not a babysitter,” I continue, growing hotter with anger every second. “I have way too much at stake here, and—”

  “But the siren possessed her tonight. The siren talked to you through her tonight. You might be able to get another crack at her. Besides, you can’t disarm bombs anyhow. That’s why you came here in the first place. You did your part already, and I…” He takes a deep breath. “I thank you for that, but I need you to do this for me.”

  “With all due respect, ah, screw it. For you to ask this of me is unfair. You have no right to try to chain me here. Is it because you don’t trust me? That you have to think up a way to keep me under lock and key so you can keep tabs on me?”

  “Damn it, Tempest, it’s because I do trust you.”

  I gape at him. “Despite the fingerprints?”

  “Despite them. Don’t get me wrong. If I ever find out that you did something so stupid and reckless and life-threatening, I will prosecute you myself. But, this? I’m sure you didn’t do it. Now, will you stay with her?”

  “For a little bit.”

  “Tempest—”

  “Please keep me in the loop, and I’ll send you updates about Kat. Do we have a deal?”

  He nods curtly.

  “And if I have to leave, I’ll see if your neighbor can stay with her.”

  “Tempest—”

  I hold up my hands. “That’s the best you’re gonna get.”

  He grits his teeth but nods again. Without another word, he rushes to his car. The lieutenant never did put on his coat. It’s a chilly night, not quite as cold as it has been lately.

  Sighing heavily, I go back inside his house. Light snores sound from the guest room. I risk cracking it open to check on her. Kat’s sleeping, not exactly peacefully. I don’t hear any faint sounds. She’s not being sung to. Hopefully, she’ll settle down soon.

  I’m too anxious and uptight to sleep. The settling of the house has me jumping. Every creak sounds as loud as a gunshot. I keep expecting to hear a devastating explosion at any second. That none come don’t make me feel carefree. If anything, I’m even more worried. There’s no way we can get them all, right? Not without a hitch. Now that the lieutenant is involved, he’s sure to call in for reinforcement from other bomb squads in nearby cities. He might even have to call in the government. Who knows? If they get involved and start digging, it’s not gonna be easy to keep a lid on the happenings here. The supernatural happenings.

  Then again, maybe he’s already been in talks with them about the vamps and wolves. I don’t know. I’m not privy to that kind of intel considering I’m not the head of the Special Investigative Unit. I still think that’s the stupidest name ever. Supernatural Investigative Unit is more apt, but, no, we have to keep everything on the down low.

  Ugh. The whole thing is giving me a headache.

  I head back downstairs and flop onto the couch. Battery’s low, so I end up in the lieutenant’s study. There’s a charger plugged in, and I zap my phone.

  His computer is already up and running. I hop into his sleek rolling chair. So comfortable. The back even reclines some. Man, I think I’m in love.

  Okay, time to do some more detective work. Sirens.

  “Sing me a song,” I murmur.

  Most of the stuff on the Internet seems to be fiction. Then again, until recently, I thought sirens were fiction too. Fiction or not, every single mention of sirens is just that.

  Sirens.

  Plural.

  There’s never only one mentioned.

  Does that mean I can safely assume that there are two in play? Or, rather, at least two in play, with the possibility of more.

  Huh. Is there a way to test this theory? I wrack my brain but come up short.

  I roll my neck from side to side to try to loosen my stiffening muscles. Fatigue is starting to set in, and I might have to crash soon. Maybe I should make a pot of coffee and get something to eat.

  My gaze falls on the window, and suddenly, I’m wide awake, startled and frightened into awareness.

  The lieutenant’s study is on the second floor.

  Yet I can clearly see a woman’s face just outside the window.

  Chapter 31

  My mouth falls open, but no sound comes out. My first thought is a vamp, but she doesn’t have red eyes or the b
lack colored contacts.

  Which leads me to my next guess.

  I stand and march over to the window as if I’m strong, powerful, and capable. Truthfully, I feel frightened, worried, and completely out of my mind.

  Maybe I should have Lacey’s cell in the inpatient behavioral unit since she doesn’t need it anymore.

  Man, am I getting morbid.

  I halt in front of the window but don’t open it.

  “Who are you, and what do you want?” I demand.

  “Open the window,” she sings, her voice every bit as lyrical and melodious as the siren’s. Slightly deeper. An alto to the first’s soprano.

  “Nah. We can talk through here.”

  My heart’s hammering in my chest, although I’m doing my best to remain cool, calm, and collected.

  Sirens can fly.

  Maybe this shouldn’t come as a shock. After all, in a lot of stories, they’re portrayed as half woman, half bird type creatures. Birds can fly, ergo sirens can too.

  But seeing it is a whole other story.

  “It would be better if you came outside anyhow.” The siren beckons me to come with her.

  At least she’s talking and not singing. A faint buzzing always fills my head whenever they sing.

  “Who are you?” I demand as I cross my arms defiantly.

  “Open the window and come out. I will answer you.”

  I glance in the direction of the guest room.

  “Yes, that’s why I want you to leave. My sister’s presence is within the house.”

  Sister? How many siblings are there?

  My gaze shifts to her. Her sister is a raven-haired beauty with amazingly dark eyes. This one looks like Barbie came to life. Blond hair, blue eyes, full lips. Both are curvy and slender.

  I shake my head. “I can’t fly. Not part bat. Sorry.”

  She holds out her hand.

  “Okay, so, what, is this gonna be like the whole Ghost of Christmas Past type thing? Because it’s not December yet. Thanksgiving just happened.”

  She holds up her hands. “It is snowing,” she points out.

  “Flurrying,” I counter. “And barely.”

  “Every second you waste is a second my sister gains,” she hisses.

  Hm. So the siren sisters don’t get along, huh? Interesting. Maybe I can play that to my advantage.

  Really, I don’t have a choice but to go to her and hear her out. We just don’t know enough about our foe.

  Foes.

  Damn it.

  I open the window and only hesitate a second before accepting her hand.

  One step after another, I climb onto the ledge.

  “Let go,” she whispers in a song, her eyes flashing silver.

  Ah. So that’s where the silver comes from. Their singing power. Magic. Whatever you want to call it. I can’t say that I’ve paid enough attention to that before now.

  I force my fear and doubt away and step off the windowsill.

  My eyes shut.

  I don’t fall.

  My eyes open.

  We’re floating in the air. It’s freaky and unreal.

  I hate it. I’m completely powerless. The lack of control over my own body messes with my mind.

  “Who are you?” I demand.

  “I am Lorelei. My sister is Selena. I take it she never bothered to introduce herself.” She rolls her eyes. “Prone to drama, that one. She thinks she’s mysterious and alluring. She can’t lure her way out of a brown paper bag.”

  Oh, yeah. There’s definitely sibling rivalry going on here.

  “So, you two don’t get along?” I ask.

  Lorelei focuses her eyes on me, and I would shift my weight nervously if I could.

  “You can say that,” she says dryly. “We are at war.”

  At war?

  Like the vamps and werewolves.

  A coincidence?

  It has to be. After all, I’ve been afraid that I sparked the war myself considering I killed a vamp before he could kill a werewolf.

  A werewolf that is now under the influence of a siren.

  And the clearly planted bodies, the vamp with the fur and the wolf with the fang. They had been staged. I’m starting to think.

  “Are the wolves on your side? The vamps on hers? Is that your war? Or has it boiled over to include them?” With my free hand, I stroke my chin. “I’m just trying to figure all of this out. You’re right. Selena likes to be mysterious. She didn’t explain any of this to me.”

  Lorelei exhales deeply. “How our feud started doesn’t matter. Yes, it spilled over to include them. But humans… we agreed to leave them out of it. Selena has become jealous, vindictive, and bloodthirsty. She will not stop. She will do anything to win.”

  “What does winning entail?”

  “Destroying Bethlehem and killing me.”

  “Why Bethlehem?” I almost jerk my hand free from hers and end up squeezing tighter to make sure I don’t fall.

  “We were born here, thousands of years ago. Our power rests here. If one of us were to die, the other would gain the fallen one’s power, but only if the one dies here.”

  “You’re telling me this because you want me to help you.”

  “Yes. Please.” Her eyes flash silver, and she begins to sing. “Help me. Kill all vampires. Seek out the werewolves. They know what to do.”

  She looks at me expectantly.

  Waiting.

  For what?

  The buzzing fades with her last note.

  “The bombs were just her doing, right?” I ask.

  Her eyes revert completely back to the blue of a bright sunny summer day. “Bombs?”

  “Bombs. All over Bethlehem. At least one hundred and eleven of them, but I think it might be more than that. By a lot. Like six times that.”

  Her sneer forms slowly as if she’s fighting it.

  “Help me. Kill all vampires. Seek out the werewolves. They know what to do,” she sings again.

  Then she shoves me back onto the windowsill. Just like her sister, she can do the disappearing act.

  Well, isn’t all of this just dandy?

  I’m just closing the window when I hear footsteps behind me. I whirl around, my hand going to my side for my spare gun.

  Kat stands in the doorway.

  I relax and then tense again immediately.

  Her eyes are silver.

  A few blinks and her appearance takes on that of Selena.

  Who doesn’t know that I know her name. I can’t dare let that slip.

  “Siren witch, you’re back,” I say almost cheerfully.

  “Why did you have the window open?” she demands.

  “It’s musty in here.” I fan myself. “I thought some cool air would be good.”

  “It’s snowing,” she says.

  “Flurrying,” I correct.

  Like sister, like sister.

  “I thought I heard something,” she says suspiciously.

  “Oh, sorry. I was talking to myself.”

  She glares at me skeptically.

  “I do that a lot actually. I’m definitely one of those people who sings in the shower. Do you do that?”

  It’s a white lie. I used to sing all of the time, but then my mom forced me to take opera singing lessons. Yeah, that cured me of singing.

  But the siren doesn’t know that.

  And I can’t let her know that I talked to her sister.

  “Well, do you?” I press. “Sing in the shower? Or do you only sing when you want the vamps to do your bidding? Are you still using them or only humans?”

  “Wouldn’t you like to know?” Selena smiles cruelly. How can someone so beautiful look so terribly vicious?

  “Whatever. I’m going to bed.” I move to walk around her.

  She holds out a hand to stop me. “Why did you say vampires?”

  I shrug. “Vamps, werewolves, humans. I don’t know anything about you. I don’t even know why you’re here. In Kat. In Bethlehem. What you want. I just want you g
one. Maybe if you tell me what you want, I can either help you or hinder you.”

  “Oh, you’ll want to help me,” she says haughtily.

  “Why is that?” Hand on hip, I tap a foot and fake a yawn. “I’m beat, so if you can hurry this up a bit, I’d appreciate it.”

  “Watch your tongue,” she snaps.

  “Oh, ho. Be nice to me. Father dearest might take exception if you speak to me like that.”

  Her face looks stricken. She’s frightened of my father.

  No. Scratch that. She’s terrified.

  Who the Hell is he?

  Well, it’s been twenty-seven years since I was born. There’s no reason to think he’ll make an appearance anytime soon, right? I mean, why bother to wait so long?

  But if he has major supernatural baddies running scared, and they only just started to make an appearance in Bethlehem, maybe he will.

  And what then?

  This is one thing I seriously have to keep under wraps. The rest of it, fine. I’ll tell the lieutenant without delay. No muss, no fuss. But, this? That my birth father might have been some kind of extra evil goon? That no one can ever learn.

  “Actually,” I add, trying desperately to not seem needy or, well, desperate, “I do want to know more about you. And your powers. Your past. How did you come to be born? How many sirens are there? If you want my help, fine, but I want some answers first.”

  Her eyes turn completely silver. “You don’t need to know anything about me to obey,” she sings.

  Forget soprano. High soprano one. Her singing definitely leaves my ears buzzing, but if I’m supposed to feel some overwhelming notion to drop my questions, I don’t.

  “Yeah, I hate to disagree, but I disagree. Can you start answering now?” I tap my foot impatiently.

  She inhales and exhales a few times, clearly annoyed and anxious. I bet she’s never come across a human who could withstand her magical influence.

  And she still hasn’t. Because I’m only half human.

  That is if my mother had been human. Is she alive too? Or just my father? It had always been easier to just write them off as dead in my mind.

  “Fine. You want some answers. I can give you some. Bethlehem is where I was born.”

  “How were you born?”