“That doesn’t matter. You don’t need my whole personal history,” she snaps.
Her eyes are no longer silver. She seems dejected, depressed. Maybe I’m hitting a nerve. Maybe she has daddy issues or something.
“I have a sister. She is vicious and cunning. Everything she wants, she gets. She’s older than me and thinks that she is entitled to everything she touches.”
“Let me guess, this all stems over a guy.”
Not at all,” she says, sounding surprised.
I’m equally startled and then ashamed. To assume a guy is the root of their problems is kinda sexist.
Then again, what problems can sirens have?
“Power,” I murmur.
“Recently, we have learned that the more sirens there are in the world, the feebler our individual power is. At one time, there used to be five sirens singing their way around the world. Now, it is only the two of us.”
“If one of you were to kill the other…”
“That last standing siren would be the single most powerful siren in all of the world. Think of the wonderful chaos that could be wielded! The terrifying devastation! The—”
“The amazing goodness you could accomplish! You could end world hunger and bring about global peace with a simple song,” I say cheerily.
She looks at me as if I have three heads. “You are so simple-minded,” she says as if bored. “Our power stems from our song, yes, but we feast on chaos, on devastation, on terror.”
My eyes widen. She can’t mean that. A body can’t really gain sustenance from chaos, right?
But vamps gain sustenance from blood. And Amarok and possibly other wolves from eating flesh.
I gulp. The sirens are an incredible foe. And it’s actually better to face the two of them than just one.
Great. This is just great.
“I know what you’re thinking,” she says suddenly. “What is our weakness? There is none.”
No weakness. Of course, I don’t believe her. Because I’m her weakness.
Her song has no power over me, no control. I’m immune.
“Let me get this straight. You want to kill your sister. She wants to kill you. You’re using the vamps, am I right? Is she using the wolves? Where do the humans come in? And the bombs?”
I still don’t understand why they would need Bethlehem to be destroyed. Maybe for a ritual of some kind or the transfer of siren-y power. There’s still so much I don’t know.
“I’ve answered enough questions,” she says sharply. “Now, if you’ll help me, I’ll ensure that all of those you care about, including those they care about, will be kept safe.”
I hold up a hand and shake my head. “Hold up. How did you just come to learn about killing the one and gaining the power? Who told you? Aren’t you powerful enough? Why do you have to kill your sister? There’s more to the story.”
“Like I said, you don’t need to know every detail. Will you take my offer or not?”
I snort a laugh. “You still haven’t even told me your name.”
Her eyes flash with anger. “I’m Selena. My sister, if you must know, is Lorelei. Now, have I answered enough? Because my patience is wearing thin, and I have no more use for this human, so I might as well kill her.” She shrugs as if Kat’s life means nothing.
And to her, Kat’s life doesn’t.
Not unless I give it meaning.
By siding with her.
Or pretending to at least.
“You’ll keep everyone including Kat safe?” I demand.
“Of course,” she purrs.
All signs of anger and frustration melt away. She’s the perfect picture of demure and pleasantries.
“Fine, but I need to know more about your plan and what it entails.”
“I’ll be coming for you soon when it is time for you to play your part.”
My breathing hitches. “You want me to be the one to kill Lorelei for you.”
Her grin is vicious and victorious. “Precisely.”
This time, when she leaves Kat, Kat blinks a few times and doesn’t faint.
“Who are you?” she whispers. “Wait. You’re Clarissa, aren’t you? Why are we in Dorcas’s study? How did I get to be here?”
“You were sleep walking,” I say soothingly. “Dorcas had to go out. You had a fall earlier and bumped your head. He asked me to keep an eye on you. Why don’t you go back to bed? Do you need some medicine to help you sleep?”
She yawns. “I am tired,” she admits, rubbing her head. “I hit my head?”
“You’ll be fine in the morning,” I say.
I sure hope that last bit isn’t a lie.
Once Kat’s settled and her breathing evens out, I head to the second guest bedroom and fall asleep myself. My dreams are terrible, haunting ones, but I can’t recall the details when I wake up.
My cell vibrating like mad is what stirs me. The lieutenant is calling.
“Hello?” I mumble.
“We’re still working to recover bombs. If you’re right about there being six hundred and sixty-six of them, then we’ve only gotten half.”
My stomach churns. The one time I wish I had been wrong…
“Sir, please.”
I fling off the cover and run out of the house. Just in case Selena is still lurking inside of Kat, I can’t risk being overheard.
Once I’m outside, I continue, “I need to have my badge back. I know I can prove my innocence. They broke into my house. They stole my hairbrush to get my fingerprint to purposely set me up. But I have a way to go undercover and learn their plan. I really think that being a cop and having this done by the books is the way to go.”
There’s a lot of commotion going on in the background, so I’m not sure if he heard me.
“Sir?”
“Did you say ‘they’? As in there’s more than one of them?”
“Two. I’ve talked to both. I guess you could say that my interrogation skills have improved.”
“Damn it, Clarissa. I don’t have time for games. Spit it out already. What do you need?”
What do I need?
There are two sirens. There’s only one who can hear their singing and not be affected.
I need someone else who can’t be affected.
Oh, God. I made a horrible, terrible, devastating mistake.
My fingers pinch the bridge of my nose. I’m getting a migraine.
“I need Amarok,” I whisper.
Chapter 32
The lieutenant cusses me out and hangs up on me. Yeah, I can’t blame him for that. Honestly, that act alone, my releasing Amarok, should’ve gotten me fired.
So I’m on my own to find Amarok. Only fitting. I should be the one to fix my mistake.
It’s not even seven in the morning, but I quickly get ready for the day and then check on Kat. She’s sleeping peacefully. I’m torn between wanting to keep her safe and getting to work.
Work wins. Like I have a choice. I have to save everyone, not just Kat.
So I knock on the lieutenant’s neighbor’s house to ask her to keep an eye on Kat. I explain that she hasn’t been feeling the best. I also ask her to call me if she sees silver eyes or if she hears any strange singing.
The neighbor gives me a strange look but agrees.
One small weight lifted from my shoulders.
Now, to get the weight that is all of Bethlehem off.
How best to hunt down an ancient wolf vamp zombie type creature? Well, I guess my best bet is to ring up his closest kin.
Calliope answers on the third ring. “Why do I have the feeling you only call when you need something?”
“Isn’t that what friends are for?”
She sighs. “What is it?”
“Remember Amarok?”
“Is that a serious question?”
“When he came around, did any one of your wolves deflect for his cause? If so, do you know where that wolf is?”
“As a matter of fact, there was one. We don’t know where
he is, but we can go sniff him out.” She hesitates. “Finding volunteers for that mission won’t be easy though.”
“Why not? Oh.”
“Yes, oh. Because he might be with Amarok, and no one wants to see that brute monster again. Why do you need him? Does this have something to do with the silver eyes?”
“Sirens want to kill each other to gain power. Their songs are controlling vamps, wolves, and humans. I’m immune. My hope is that I’m not the only one immune.”
“You don’t want the deflecting wolf. You want Amarok. You want to bring him back here.”
The terror and fear in her voice grow with each word she says.
“I want to make a deal with him. Another deal. He honored the first, so maybe he’ll honor another one. I don’t know. It’s a stretch, but I’m desperate.”
Calliope huffs a sigh that almost sounds like a soft howl. “I’m desperate too. More and more of the pack have silver eyes. They’ll disappear and be gone for odd hours. I have no idea what they are doing. I trailed one, and he almost bit my nose off. If you think Amarok might be willing to help, I guess we might as well make a deal with him. Just don’t get burned. You make a deal with the devil, and the burn will last for all eternity.”
Man, does she have a way of making your life seem like it’s doomed for terror.
A half hour later, I meet up with Calliope on South Mountain. She’s wearing flowing pants and a sleeveless top. I really don’t get her attire. It is freezing out. No chance of a burn here unless it’s freezer burn.
“No one else willing to come help?” I call as I cross over to the clearing where she stands waiting.
“I’m not willing to risk any more of my pack,” she says grimly.
Her hair is tied up in five braided buns. Even though the wind blows our clothes and my hair like crazy, not a single strand of her hair is out of place.
“You’re a good alpha,” I comment.
Unlike your husband, I think but don’t add.
“What does that matter if my pack is all killed or driven mad by a siren’s sweet song?” she demands. “Let’s get on with this.”
“So, how does this work? You change and sniff him out or…”
“First,” she says wryly, “we try a rather human technique.” She brandishes her cell like it’s a weapon.
Why did we have to wait a half hour to meet up then if she’s just going to call him? She’d been insistent on that half hour.
Then it hits me.
She doesn’t expect to come back. She thinks either the wolf in question or Amarok will peg her. She wanted to say goodbye to the rest of her pack that is still loyal to her yet.
Now that’s a true leader. Someone who is not selfish. Someone who will take the fall. Someone who will do whatever it takes for her people.
“Voss. I’m glad you haven’t gone savage enough that you still know how to pick up a phone.”
My eyes widen with shock. Calliope’s voice is dripping with disdain and even hatred. The animosity she feels toward Amarok has transferred over to his wolfie goon.
“No, I haven’t seen the light. I can’t believe you don’t realize what a cancerous black hole he is. Look, I have a friend who wants to see him. Yes, her name is… How did you know?”
I swallow hard. Amarok knew I would seek him out. Or at least he suspected I would, even to tell his goon about me. Is that good or bad? I’m starting to think all things Amarok related are evil. That he foresaw this upcoming meeting leaves me with an awfully bitter taste in my mouth.
“How soon can we—wait, you’re in Hellertown? That’s hardly far away! I thought Amarok was supposed to. Fine. No. We’ll come to you. I do not… I don’t care what he wants.”
She closes her eyes and whirls around so that her back is to me.
“Very well. Five minutes.”
I stalk around her. “Well? Is he coming?”
“Voss is. He’ll take you to Amarok.”
“They’re really holed up in Hellertown?” I ask.
I can’t believe it. Hellertown is a spit’s distance away from Bethlehem. Amarok’s a sly son of a gun to have done something so underhanded. He told me he would leave Bethlehem alone! He knew I thought that included the surrounding area!
He doesn’t know the future, right? I mean, it’s not as if he really did know for certain that I would want a meeting with him. It was just a guess on his part.
Man. I am so missing the days of hunting down drug dealers and squeezing the little fish to get to the big ones.
At least with them, you always knew where you stood. And you didn’t have to worry about any kinda of BS.
“Yes,” she says shortly. “I have to go.”
“What? Why? No. That’s fine. Go ahead.”
“Voss is one of Amarok’s followers. He will kill and eat a werewolf if he sees one. He will not dare harm you. Of that I am certain. Amarok wants to see you. You’ll be safe enough.”
“Unless he wants to see me to eat my flesh and drink my blood,” I say dryly.
Calliope hangs her head. “I wish I could say that you will be safe and live a long life. Sadly, I fear that will not be the case for either of us.”
“Yeah, I get that impression too.”
She turns to leave.
“Hey, Calliope?”
“Yeah?”
“Howl free and stay safe.” I wince. Man, that sounds cheesy.
But she smiles. “I’ll try.”
She races to her car. Her tires peel as she burns rubber in her haste to flee the scene.
Her car has just disappeared from view when the air around me changes. I’m not alone anymore.
“Voss?” I ask.
I glance around, but I don’t see him anywhere.
But then I hear a low roar.
A fighting sound.
A hungry sound.
I swallow back my fear and worry. I can do this. I can face Amarok’s goon, and then I can face Amarok.
It doesn’t matter that he isn’t caged this time.
It doesn’t matter that I don’t have a weapon on hand that can kill him.
It doesn’t matter that I’m basically at Amarok’s mercy.
Even though he’s a monster who doesn’t have any mercy.
I wipe my sweaty palms on my coat.
“Come out, come out, wherever you are,” I sing to try to ignore my growing apprehension.
Wait a second. Me? Singing? Even as a joke, that’s out there for me. My mom scarred me. I used to really enjoy singing and won that contest once, but Mom forcing opera classes on me crossed the line.
I guess the sirens are rubbing off on me. Kinda scary to think about.
Eerie yellow-orange eyes glow from the shadows of the nearby trees. Emerges forward is a tall brute of a man. He’ll make for one massive wolf in animal form.
“Are you Voss?” I ask.
Duh. Who else would he be?
“I am indeed.” He sweeps into a low bow.
Strange. His surprising formality reminds me of Jace.
And even stranger. I kinda expected him to a mindless goon for Amarok. Not drooling, of course, but not exactly with it.
“I suppose you are Clarissa then?”
He gives me the once-over. Not because of anything sexual. More like he’s apathetically curious.
I shrug. “Yep. So, you’re going to take me to Amarok, huh. Why couldn’t he just come with you?”
“He’s busy.”
I grimace as a mental image of him eating someone’s flesh and blood dripping down his face springs to mind.
“He’s eating, yes. I suggest we take our time before returning unless you wish to risk seeing something you will not appreciate.”
I hold up my hands. “Works for me. Not like I’m in a rush or anything.”
Only I am.
Mom would ask how I could change this into a positive. And there actually is one way.
“So,” I say casually. “You know Amarok pretty well, huh?”
He blinks slowly. “One could say that.”
“Mind telling me about him? I’m just confused as to why you would leave your pack to be his lapdog.”
He doesn’t bristle at my slight, indifferent and apathetic.
Or unflappable. It’s actually not a terrible trait to have.
Besides, I shouldn’t be trying to needle him, but he’s getting under my skin. That he doesn’t care that his master is eating someone as we speak irks me to no end. What kind of unfeeling monster is he?
Actually, now his apathetic nature makes more sense.
“Did you meet the alpha?” he asks me.
“Alphie? I mean…” I wrack my brain. Oh, yeah. “Shane! Yeah, I met him. Okay, I’ll give you that. He was an arrogant, haughty werewolf. I wouldn’t want him to lead me. But what about Calliope? Did you know that Shane is… gone?”
“I did not know.” He wrinkles his nose with disdain, or maybe he smells something. The direction of the breeze has just shifted.
“I take it that doesn’t matter?” I ask.
I’m confused. Calliope seems capable to me. At least a major step up from Shane, that’s for sure.
“Calliope does not have the strength to run an entire pack.”
Well, it’s not a full pack anymore.
“Why do you say that?” I ask even though we should be talking about Amarok instead of the female alpha.
“She’s too indecisive. Always wracked by fear and worry. Werewolves are strong. We’re noble. We’re powerful. Anger is fine but fright? Never. She’s a disgrace.”
“And Amarok is a being of anger,” I murmur.
“Very much so,” he agrees.
“Any other emotions controlling him?” I ask casually.
The more I know my foe, the better. Amarok might not be in Bethlehem, but wherever he is calling home, he remains an enemy. To me, to all humans, to wolves, to vampires.
He is a disgrace to all those living.
Worse, he is a threat to all those living.
“He is a trickster,” Voss says with the utmost respect.
“Yeah, tell me something I didn’t already know,” I murmur.
He tricked me into freeing him. I want to make a deal with him, but I just know he’s going to make it benefit him more than me somehow.
Voss shuts up, and nothing else I can say or ask gets him to speak again. Evidently, twenty minutes later is the magical hour because he sweeps out his arm.
When Sirens Screech: A Mayhem of Magic World Story (Bedlam in Bethlehem Book 3) Page 15