Siren

by Jessica Wayne

  “She is going to take the boy. You have to save him,” he warned, and Anastasia spun as Gwen began choking, falling to her knees just as Ashton had moments before. The little boy stood beside her, screaming and crying. Anastasia pulled him away and handed him to Ashton, then bent over Gwen.

  Anastasia did just as she had for Ashton, pouring what little energy she had into Gwen, but it was too late.

  The being took form in front of her just as Gwen’s life faded away. “What the hell are you?” Anastasia asked, horrified.

  The thing smiled. “I’m Rosabel.” She disappeared and reappeared in front of Dakota. “And he is mine.” She placed her lips on Dakota’s, and Anastasia jumped to her feet to defend him. Just as she approached, the woman disappeared with a laugh, and Dakota fell to his knees.

  “Dakota? Dakota, are you okay?” she asked frantically, cupping his face.

  “I’m fine.” He stared at her. “What happened?”

  “Your mermaid just fucking kissed you.”

  “She did what?” He looked completely horrified and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “What the hell did she do that for?”

  “I have no damn clue. Is this your fault?” She looked up at Vincent, who shook his head.

  “Anastasia, who are you talking to?” Dakota asked, getting to his feet.

  “Vincent.” She followed suit, standing beside him.

  He straightened and searched the room. “He’s here?”

  “He can’t see me,” Vincent commented, looking over at his son, who was staring directly at him from Ashton’s arms. “But my boy can.”

  “You can’t see him?” Anastasia asked, her eyes flicking back and forth between Dakota and Vincent.

  “There is no one here but us and Ashton.” He looked back at Ashton. “You okay?”

  “I will be as soon as someone tells me what the hell is going on.” He checked Gwen’s pulse. “She’s dead.”

  “No shit, Sherlock,” Vincent muttered angrily. “No thanks to any of you. Aren’t you all supposed to be the good guys?”

  Anastasia placed her fingers to her temples. “Will you just shut the fuck up?” She aimed at Vincent.

  “Listen,” Ashton started, but Anastasia held up her hand.

  “I’m not talking to you.”

  “We need to go,” Dakota warned. “And he needs to come with us.” He gestured to the little boy, who was sobbing uncontrollably.

  “You expect me to allow you two to remove the child of a homicide victim?” Ashton gaped at them.

  “He is not going to be safe here,” Dakota retorted. “Whatever that thing was—”

  “You mean the naked woman who kissed you. How do I know you aren’t working with her?”

  “Do you honestly think I would allow someone to make a move on my husband?” Anastasia growled, more pissed off than she’d been in years. They didn’t have time for this crap. “Whatever it was, it is immune to my magic. And not just magic, but bullets as well. She also managed to almost drown you, and did drown the child’s mother, in a dry room.” Anastasia took a step toward the detective.

  It didn’t matter he stood over a foot taller than her; she refused to let his hard headedness interfere with what she had to do. “Do you honestly believe you can keep him safe? Because the way I see it, if he stays with you, it will mean death for you both. And probably your family, too.”

  “Are you threatening me?”

  “It’s not a threat, it’s a promise. She will come for him, and you can’t keep him safe.”

  Ashton bit the inside of his cheek, and the look of disgust he shot her both irritated and amused her. She’d saved his life, and he still hated her. Figures.

  “How do I know you aren’t going to kill him for his relation to Vincent alone?”

  “I suppose you don’t,” Anastasia answered. She was damn tired of people thinking she was a ruthless killer.

  “You know I won’t.” Dakota stepped up and put his hand on Anastasia’s shoulder. “She won’t either, I don’t know what the hell your problem is with her, but Ana is not a murderer. If you remember, she’s saved your ass more than once.”

  Ashton looked down at the child in his arms and then back up to them.

  “Fine,” he growled and turned on his heel to head down the stairs. “But you’d damn well better be gone before I call this in. Child services will never agree to this,” he called over his shoulder.

  Anastasia turned back to Vincent, who stared almost sadly down at Gwen.

  “She didn’t deserve to die,” he mumbled.

  “Then she shouldn’t have gotten involved with you,” Anastasia shot back and followed Ashton down the stairs.

  He waited for them beside his car. “If you hurt this child, sorceress or not, I will kill you.”

  Dakota stepped between them. “You better watch your mouth, Ashton. Threaten my wife again and she won’t need to kick your ass.”

  “It’s not a threat,” he said to Dakota and then turned his eyes to Anastasia. “It’s a promise.” He switched his attention to the little boy, who was now sniffling. “You’re going to go with these two people, okay bud? They will keep you safe.”

  “Momma.” The little boy’s lip started quivering as Ashton handed him over to Dakota.

  “It’ll be okay, little guy.” Dakota lifted the little boy into his arms.

  “Let’s go,” Anastasia said.

  “Wait.” Ashton turned and walked back to his vehicle, and a minute later, returned with a car seat. “It’s for an older kid, but it’ll do for now.” He handed the seat to Anastasia and then turned to head back inside the house.

  After buckling the crying little boy into the seat, Dakota climbed into the driver’s side and drove them back to his family’s house.

  They pulled into the garage of Dakota’s family home, and once the door was shut safely behind them, climbed out of the Mustang. Anastasia didn’t waste any time and conjured a portal as soon as she stepped away from the car.

  “Momma!” the little boy cried as Dakota walked to the light.

  “It’ll be okay, I promise.” He tried to soothe the child.

  “Anastasia.”

  Anastasia looked behind them. Vincent stood just inside the garage door.

  “What the hell are you doing here?” she asked.

  “Who are you talking to?” Dakota asked, looking around the garage.

  “Vincent.”

  “There is no one here, Ana.”

  “He can’t see me. Dead, remember?” Vincent put his hands up. “Where my son goes, I go. You don’t have a choice.” He stepped past her, then through the portal, and Anastasia cursed under her breath.

  “He is here, Dakota. But apparently, since he’s dead, you can’t see him.” She stepped through the light and waited in their living room for Dakota and the little boy to join her.

  They appeared a second later, and she waved her hand to close the portal off.

  It was still dark in Terrenia, but they headed out into the night to Tony and Elizabeth’s house anyway.

  “Are you sure leaving him with them is a good idea?” Dakota asked.

  “I’m sure we don’t have a choice. And besides, your mother is the most maternal person I know; he will be in good hands.”

  “He should be with family,” Vincent growled from behind them.

  “Yeah, well, dead people don’t get a say,” she muttered.

  “This is going to get old fast,” Dakota groaned.

  “You’re telling me,” Vincent responded in disgust. “I don’t understand why you can’t just keep him with you.”

  Anastasia stopped and spun on Vincent. “Because I don’t fucking trust him, that’s why. He is your spawn, and I don’t know whether I should stop him from becoming you now, or wait until his first attempt to take over the world.”

  “Don’t you dare harm him,” Vincent growled, clenching his fists. “He is innocent.”

  “For now.” She scowled back at him and then
turned to continue walking.

  Dakota had already reached the porch, and Elizabeth was opening the door when Anastasia stepped up.

  “Who is this handsome boy?” Elizabeth offered a smile to the little boy just as Tony stepped up and placed a tattooed arm around her shoulders.

  “Vincent’s son,” Dakota responded.

  Elizabeth’s eyes widened. “He had a son?”

  “Apparently. We need you two to keep him for us.” Anastasia crossed her arms.

  “Where is the boy’s mother?” Tony watched the little boy as if he might grow eight arms.

  “Dead. Dakota’s mermaid girlfriend killed her.”

  Elizabeth shook her head. “I’m sorry… mermaid girlfriend?”

  “Long story, Mom.” Dakota handed the squirming little boy over.

  “I want Momma,” the child cried out.

  “I know, handsome,” Elizabeth soothed. “But can you please just stay with us for a little while? I promise we will take good care of you.” She turned back into the house, and Tony stepped up to the door.

  “Why bring him here? What if he is just like Vincent?”

  “You have got to be kidding me. He’s a child,” Dakota argued. “An innocent little boy.”

  “Thank you.” Vincent tossed up his hands. “Besides, I wasn’t that bad.”

  Anastasia shot a glare behind her. “You nearly wiped out everyone and everything.”

  “Who is she talking to?” Tony asked as he searched the dark porch.

  “Vincent.”

  Tony’s eyes widened, and his hand shot reflexively to his side, where he usually kept his knife. “Vincent is alive?”

  Anastasia turned back around. “No, but apparently he decided to grace me with his ghostly presence.”

  “Are you certain he is really there? Perhaps you’re—”

  “Hallucinating again?” Anastasia shook her head. “No, he is really here. I can feel him.”

  “Great. Fuck you, Vincent,” Tony growled and slammed the door.

  “Well, that wasn’t very nice,” Vincent quipped.

  “Leave us alone,” she said to Vincent. “I don’t care where you go, but until tomorrow, you better fucking disappear before I find a way to kill your semi-transparent ass.”

  He put his hands up in mock surrender. “Fine. Consider me gone.” He faded from view, and she and Dakota made their way back to their house.

  8

  Terrenia

  Anastasia

  Anastasia removed her weapons as soon as she and Dakota stepped into their cabin. She was angry, exhausted, and her body was still sore from being slammed into the wall.

  “So, do you want to fill me in on what happened in Gwen’s house? You’ve been quiet,” Dakota said cautiously.

  Like you making out with a fucking mermaid? Anastasia turned to face him. “What did she do to you?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “When you were frozen and staring at the wall, what had she done to you?”

  Dakota grimaced, and he rubbed the back of his head. “You don’t want to know.”

  Anastasia folded her arms. “Oh, I really do.”

  He let out a sigh and ran his hands through his hair. It wasn’t that Anastasia was concerned about fidelity; Dakota was hers. There was no doubt in her mind he was faithful, but the way that creature looked at him worried her.

  It wasn’t like they were any strangers to mental manipulation. With the right power, even the best people were capable of doing horrible things.

  “The nightmares I’ve been having, where I’m drowning. It was like that, only she didn’t save me until the very end. When she kissed me in the vision, it tasted like blood, and it—I don’t know what the hell she did to me, Ana, but I feel wrong.” Dakota looked down at his shaking hands. He let out a ragged breath, and turned glistening blue eyes up to hers.

  Anastasia crossed the floor to him. She wrapped her arms around his waist and leaned against his hard body.

  For as long as she could remember, Dakota had been her strength. The solid driving force behind the start of each new day. To see him so upset over what transpired pained her. Especially when her own nightmare crept up her spine.

  A sea of the undead.

  Dakota turning into a dark sorcerer.

  Not possible. She shook her head to clear it. Save it for tomorrow. He was already upset, no sense in making it worse before they knew anything was wrong.

  “Of course, it felt wrong, she probably tasted like fish.” She tried to joke with him, but there was no humor in his eyes.

  “Even right now, Ana. Something is off.”

  “You’re tired,” she assured him. “We’ve both been going pretty nonstop since we ran into each other in that alley.”

  He nodded, but Anastasia could see in his narrowed eyes it was still bothering him.

  “What happened?” he asked again.

  Anastasia sighed and poured them both a glass of Terrenian whiskey. “After she froze you—or whatever it was she did—I blasted her with power. She wasn’t even fazed by it.”

  He gaped at her. “What?”

  “Then the bitch turned into rushing water and tried to drown Ashton.”

  “Wait, she turned into rushing water? Not just a puddle?”

  Anastasia nodded, and Dakota turned his glass up, downing the amber liquid in one gulp. She poured him another and continued, “After Ashton, she jumped into Gwen and, well, you know how that turned out.”

  “Why did she kill her?”

  “She wanted Vincent’s son.”

  “But why, and if no one could hurt her, why not take him? Why did she leave?”

  Anastasia shrugged. “She kissed you and left.” She left out the conversation they had about who Dakota belonged to, because she didn’t think he needed to hear it. He was already shaken enough, and no matter what that bitch said, it wasn’t true. Dakota was hers, just as she was his.

  “And now, Vincent is apparently back from the dead?”

  Anastasia pinched the bridge of her nose. “Hardly. He’s a ghost.”

  “So, now ghosts are real.”

  “Honestly, I wish I were more surprised. At this point, I’m surprised Santa himself hasn’t shown up.”

  “Are you sure you aren’t imagining him?” Dakota asked, repeating Tony’s earlier concern.

  “Positive.”

  “Can I pop back in?” Vincent asked from the open window.

  Anastasia closed her eyes and used her magic to slam it closed.

  “Whoa, what was that for?”

  “He wants back in.”

  “Who?”

  “Vincent.”

  “Well, this is going to be annoying.”

  “You’re telling me. Bed?” she asked, exhausted.

  “Absolutely.” Dakota got to his feet, and Anastasia gripped the front of his shirt and pressed her lips to his. She kissed him hard, pouring her power into him in an effort to erase whatever Rosabel had done.

  When she pulled away, his eyes were heavy and full of lust.

  “She won’t get her hands on you again,” Anastasia promised, pulling him toward the bedroom.

  After making sure they weren’t being watched—apparently, she couldn’t be too careful these days—she pushed him back against the mattress.

  “I thought you were tired?” Dakota asked darkly, but when his hand tightened on her hips, Anastasia knew he wanted—needed—this as badly as she did.

  “I’m never too tired for you,” she whispered against his mouth. His hands buried themselves into her hair, and he rolled her over so he was pressed between her thighs.

  The hardness of him rubbed against where she ached for him, and Anastasia reached down between their bodies and undid the front of his pants.

  He stepped away momentarily to remove them, and she made quick work of her own.

  The need for closeness turned to desperation as they removed the layers separating them.

  Dakota slipped back on the
mattress, trailing his lips up the inside of her leg, his hands sliding up her body as he moved.

  “Dakota,” she moaned, desperate for him, but still he took his time. When the heat of his breath fanned across her core, Anastasia arched up, a silent plea for what she wanted.

  His tongue darted out, running up her center, and Anastasia cried out, her body desperate for more.

  Dakota’s hands slid up her body as his mouth devoured her, his fingers reaching her bare breasts, teasing her nipples to hard peaks as he drove her to the edge with his tongue.

  When the orgasm ripped through her, Dakota moved up, driving into her with a single thrust that sent waves of pleasure straight through her.

  As their bodies moved together, Anastasia met him thrust for thrust in a frenzied attempt to sate the power building in her blood.

  As her release built inside her, Anastasia pulled his mouth down to hers and shattered around him.

  9

  Terrenia

  Dakota

  Dakota stared up at the ceiling and listened to the sound of Ana breathing softly beside him. He’d tried to follow suit and get some sleep, but even awake, his nightmares plagued him.

  He’d been completely powerless against whatever the hell Rosabel had done to him. He hadn’t even known her name until Ana had told him just before she fell asleep. Every single damn time he tried to close his eyes, she popped into his head.

  Dakota knew himself well enough to know something was off, and it started when she’d kissed him in that house. His body felt heavier than usual, and his slight headache was turning into a full-on migraine.

  It was more than just the physical, though; his thoughts were turning darker. The few minutes of sleep he’d managed to get were plagued by nightmares of murder.

  He’d held a sword in his hand, watched blood dripping down the blade after he’d killed a man. His brother, or at least that’s who he’d been in the dream.

  Dakota rolled over to study Ana’s sleeping form. He had to find a way to stop Rosabel because he had the worst feeling that she was far from done with him.

  Deciding sleep was just not going to work for him tonight, Dakota slipped on some clothes and stepped outside into the dark.