by Krista Walsh
Custom made to fit over those paws, no doubt, Gabe thought.
“Good afternoon,” Allegra said with a smile. “We’ve come to speak with Mr. Deverill, if he is available?”
“Do you have an appointment?” David asked, and his voice was so deep that Gabe’s stomach dropped, as though he’d slipped from the porch into the depths of a cavernous trap. He considered it a good thing the butler hadn’t spoken during his visit to the apartment. If he had, it was possible the building might have collapsed with the vibration of the bass.
“I’m afraid we do not,” Allegra said, full of regret.
Gabe cleared his throat, and David’s gaze landed on him, no apparent recognition in his black eyes. “I thought I’d take Mr. Deverill up on his offer and hear how he wanted to help me catch the siren.”
The butler continued to stare down at them, even when Allegra flashed her brightest smile. Then he stepped forward and raised his hands, likely to usher them away, but a voice, sweet and rich, spoke behind him first. “Let them in, David. Don’t be rude.”
David stepped aside to reveal John, who stood in the middle of a wide flight of stairs in the center of the room, with one hand on the gilt railing and a wide grin on his face.
Gabe shifted his attention from the owner of the house to the house itself. He took in the living room that stretched to the right and the curved archway to his left that hinted at a bright, spacious kitchen.
Allegra entered onto the large black and white tiles, and Gabe followed beside her, happy to let her take the lead until she passed the reins to him. Once they were inside, two wolfhounds emerged from behind the stairs and paced toward them. Their thick charcoal-and-silver fur shimmered in the sunlight streaming through the skylights. Gabe eyed them warily, and they stared back with eyes as bright as their master’s. He didn’t trust dogs that large even when they were corporeal, and ethereal guard dogs like these were just excessive.
The hounds sat down and remained in place on either side of the staircase as John stepped down and crossed the foyer. Today he wore another dark purple suit with a lavender shirt and mauve tie. His violet eyes flashed with something Gabe might have pegged as smugness.
He got the impression the man had been expecting him.
“Allegra,” John said as he swept toward them to take the succubus’s hand. He bent over it to plant a kiss on the back of her knuckles. “So lovely to see you again. This is a wonderful surprise.”
“John,” she replied. “When Gabriel invited me to accompany him, I couldn’t refuse the opportunity to see you. You’re looking well.”
He released Allegra’s hand and shifted his attention to Gabe. “Mr. Mulligan, I’m happy you’ve come.” He grinned. “I can tell by the determined look in your eye that my assessment of you was not far off. You’ve decided to carry on hunting our beautiful Ligeia, haven’t you?”
“Yes, sir,” Gabe said. “I was paid to see it through and I mean to do just that.”
“Good man,” John replied. “I admire a person who can roll up his sleeves and get his hands dirty. But just because you won’t let me see to things myself doesn’t mean I’ll stand by and let you do everything. Now that you’ve had time to consider my proposition, I suppose you’re interested in hearing what I have to offer by way of help?”
Gabe straightened his hands at his sides to prevent them from curling into fists. The man’s arrogant tone grated on his nerves, but playing it friendly would work to his advantage. “I thought it would be in everyone’s best interests to hear how we can pool our resources. It’s our greatest shot of getting rid of her quickly.”
“That is a wise decision. Having known Ligeia as I have done, I might have the best insight into how to trap her again. And this time, we can make sure that she remains bound for an eternity.”
13
Although John’s intention to bind the siren didn’t come as a surprise, hearing him say it aloud made Gabe’s conscience squirm.
John extended his hand toward the living room. “Come, why don’t we make ourselves comfortable while we discuss the issue. David, coffee.”
The giant of a butler bowed and moved into the kitchen, graceful and silent for a man of his size.
The wolfhounds waited until Allegra and Gabe followed their master, then padded along behind them. Although the hounds kept their distance, Gabe angled his head to keep them in his periphery as they entered the living room.
“I assure you they mean you no harm,” John said without turning around. “I simply keep them for the company. And to ensure no one decides my collections are worth the trouble of sneaking into my house.”
His reassurance caught Gabe off guard. He didn’t think he’d let his mask of neutrality slip so far. He allowed the moment to pass without comment, not wanting to confirm John’s assumptions about his state of mind, and turned his attention to the room, which was even more awe-inspiring than the foyer.
A plush purple carpet covered the floor, surrounding a rich collection of gray-upholstered furniture that sprawled across the open space. Three couches and six large chairs were scattered in various circles, flanking the gold-gilded tea service that was laid out on the wide coffee table in the middle of the room. Curio cabinets lined the walls, each shelf covered in artifacts and art from around the world. Gabe passed one cabinet that boasted Egyptian coins and another that displayed a lapis lazuli-studded gravy boat. One shelf of treasures would have been worth his entire apartment building, if not a dozen of them. Gabe might have believed he’d accidentally transported them to a national museum if the view from the window wasn’t of a quiet suburban street.
He settled himself on one of the gray couches beside Allegra, while John made himself comfortable in a tall wingback chair. The deep tick-tock of the mahogany grandfather clock beside the window filled the silence as they relaxed into their seats. John brushed his fingers over the head of one of the wolfhounds as it passed by, and a jolt of surprise passed through Gabe when the dog’s fur ruffled at the touch. He eyed the beast closely, using the strength of his Fae blood to make out the illusion around it: the shell of corporeal matter that housed the ethereal spirit beneath. Like a ghost walking around with a bedsheet draped over it.
A crackling fire popped cheerfully in the marble grate, and the two dogs arrayed themselves in front of it, content to stretch out and soak up the heat. They appeared to fall asleep, but each time Gabe shifted a leg, the dog nearest him cracked its eye open to follow the movement.
John steepled his fingers and rested his head against the back of his chair. He looked tired — more so than when he had come to Gabe’s apartment. He rubbed his brow as his gaze jumped between the two of them, finally settling on Gabe.
“I can see into your minds clearly enough to know my suggestion of caging her again is not your preferred conclusion,” he said. “I understand your reservations. As a solution it seems cruel even to me, and I have lived long enough to watch men commit the most heinous of acts toward their brothers and sisters. But believe me when I say our options are limited.”
His voice carried a soothing lull that wormed its way into Gabe’s ears and settled over his brain like peach fuzz. Gabe gave himself a shake and cursed the fire for its entrancing pop and crackle and the couch for the comforting way it cradled his body. He forced his eyelids open and shifted his weight in his seat to keep himself focused.
A question tugged at him that perhaps John’s voice was nudging him toward sleep, but a glance at Allegra showed her to be alert, unaffected by the same lethargy that had swept over Gabe.
Just exhaustion. Wake up, Gabe, or you’ll get derailed and wind up on the wrong track.
He clasped his hands in his lap and said, “While what I’m about to suggest isn’t that much better, what would it take to kill her? I feel ending her life would be kinder than caging her again.”
John propped his steepled fingers under his chin, his brow pinched with thought. “I wish it were as simple as shooting her through the
heart and silencing her song forever, but any such human methods would fail us here. Like most of the species in our world, sirens are not easy to kill.”
Gabe glanced at Allegra to gauge her reaction to their discussion. In a way, Ligeia was one of her own kind, though a variation on the species. But the succubus wore a soft smile, and no matter how closely he watched her expression, he found no hint of discontent.
Either the woman had no feelings on the subject of her kinswoman’s fate, or she was even better at covering her emotions than he realized. Either possibility made him uncomfortable.
“Can you think of any way we could do it?” he asked her.
She frowned at him and a trace of gold glittered in her eyes, as though she were offended that he should ask. Then she rolled her eyes and raised her shoulder in a half shrug. “The only sure methods I know of are to remove the head or stab through the heart, and if you choose to attempt either of those, I wish you the best. Alternatively, you can attempt to turn her song back on her. Just as a mirror once turned Medusa to stone, rumor has it the same trick can be used with the siren’s song.”
John stiffened in his chair and clenched the armrests. A strand of his slicked-back hair fell over his brow as he sat up. “That is not a valid option.”
The brusqueness with which he spoke forced Gabe the rest of the way out of his haziness, and he stared at the jinni with curiosity. Sure, he hadn’t known the man very long, but based on the reactions of the two wolfhounds, both of whom had been startled awake at the sharpness of their master’s voice and now sat at attention on the plush carpet, Gabe guessed such outbursts weren’t usual in the Deverill household.
“What would be so wrong with trying it?” Gabe asked.
John passed a hand over his face and his shoulders stooped forward. When he spoke again, he sounded as fatigued as he’d appeared earlier. “I apologize, I didn’t mean to be so abrupt. I just —” He shook his head, replaced the lock of hair that had fallen out of place, then pushed himself out of his chair and wandered toward the window to stare into the driving snow. “I’ve kept an eye on this situation since I first caged her, always hoping I had seen the last of her, but somehow knowing she would haunt me again. I see how many lives have been lost and feel each death as a personal punishment for my failings. I don’t want anyone else injured because she has a vendetta against me.”
“I have a friend who could probably rig something up that would echo Ligeia’s song back at her,” Gabe said. “It could be worth a try.”
John rolled on his heels toward them, his hands clasped behind his back. “Yes, what Ms. Rossi says is true. The rumor about using their song against them does exist, but never in all my years have I heard of a case where it worked. On the contrary, even a recording of the siren song can lure her victims into submission. Beheading Ligeia would be the best way to kill her, but the risks required to see it done are, in my opinion, too great to be worth the effort. You’ve fought her already, Mr. Mulligan. Do you feel ready to go back and face her a second time, armed with a weapon she could so easily turn against you?”
Distaste ran down the back of Gabe’s throat at the image John presented. He didn’t want to approach Ligeia again, never mind tackling her down and cutting off her head. And with what? He’d already gone through his personal arsenal and come up with a knife he’d immediately lost in the struggle against her. John struck him as the kind of man to keep an ax around the house, but what then? He pictured swinging an ax at the siren’s neck, only to have it bounce off her metal collar.
John’s suggestion hovered before him as an alternative, but it didn’t appear any more appealing than trying to drive a knife through her heart.
“I don’t see that chaining her would be any safer,” he said. “I would still have to get close.”
John nodded. “You would, but part of what I have to offer would allow some distance. A way to entangle her and sap her strength before you made direct contact.”
Gabe tapped the side of his thumb against his lip. “If such a miracle device exists, then why don’t we use that, pin her down, and then kill her? Strikes me that would be the safest option of any of them.”
A faint flush crept up John’s neck, but he cleared his throat and released a slow breath. “I know it’s unreasonable, but I find it difficult to think about killing her. Perhaps it’s my collector’s heart that makes me so reluctant. As you can see, I have a passion for preservation, for history. I feel it would be a blow to the world to lose such a rare gem when the opportunity to keep it among us presents itself.” His violet-blue eyes glittered and, for a moment, it was as if he no longer stood in the room with them. Then he blinked and said, “But you are correct that killing her would be the safest choice in the long term.”
Gabe readjusted himself on the gray couch, the velvet upholstery catching on his unfamiliar coat and tugging at his shoulders and waist. “So I can use this contraption you mentioned to bring her down. I’d prefer to go for the heart over the head, but if it comes to it, is there any way you could magic off her collar? It’d be a lot easier to strike the neck without it.”
He marveled at how calm his voice sounded. He ran his tongue over his teeth and grimaced at the bitterness he tasted. He wondered what his mother would think of him sitting here, on a jinni’s couch, debating the best way to end someone’s life as though he were discussing how to clear the weeds in the garden.
John’s hands dropped by his sides as he squeezed and released his fists. “I wish it were possible, but my power does not work quite like that. Those shackles were not designed to be removed easily, by magic or man.”
“It might not be necessary.” Allegra arched an eyebrow in Gabe’s direction. “There is always the option of using your particular ability.”
John’s gaze shot to Gabe. “What ability would this be?”
“Gabriel is part Gorgon,” Allegra explained before Gabe could stop her. “If he chose, he could turn this siren into a lovely statue for the tourist board.”
Gabe bit down on the inside of his lip to stop himself from reprimanding her. What right did she have to spill his secrets when she kept her own so tightly bound? They were supposed to be on the same side in this meeting.
Casting her a dark glare he knew she wouldn’t see, he opened his mouth to argue, but John spoke first. “You do keep your secrets, Mr. Mulligan, although perhaps I’m more surprised than I should be, considering your permanent accessory.” He tapped his finger against his temple in reference to the sunglasses. “I didn’t think true Gorgons were to be found anymore.”
“As Allegra said, I’m only part Gorgon. Unfortunately for me, it’s the part that turns people into art.”
“I take it by the fact that you did not suggest this option, you don’t consider it a valid alternative?” John returned to his chair and folded his hands together, brushing the fingers of his top hand against the knuckles of the other. “It seems to me that such an ability would be ideal for this mission.”
“For the mission, maybe,” Gabe said, “but not for me. The side effects aren’t worth the trouble.”
John eyed him closely. Gabe knew he was burning to inquire what the side effects might be — being a collector, he’d want to know all the details — but the jinni swallowed his curiosity and asked, “Would you have any issue using this ability against Ligeia if the threat grew great enough?”
The question set off a heavy throbbing in Gabe’s head. He pictured himself standing out on the ice, catching the siren’s gaze. He imagined the cold chill as their minds linked for that brief moment, as he leached the memories out of her brain and left her as nothing but a hunk of rock sitting on the river. He thought about how many years of memories that siren would be carrying, each of them pressing against the insides of his skull as they found places to settle in his mind, her past and his jumbling together. It would be years before they sorted themselves out. Until then he’d be plagued by glimpses of life underwater, of chains wrapped around his n
eck, his wrists, his ankles. Sure, he could open his eyes and be a free man, but when he closed them, he’d be just as trapped as she had been.
In the face of their slim alternatives, though, he forced himself to nod. “If I had to.”
“Then perhaps it’s for the best Allegra mentioned it on your behalf,” John replied, a small smile teasing his lips in spite of the tension tightening the corners of his eyes.
David chose that moment to enter the room with the coffee tray, and Gabe appreciated the opportunity to put his thoughts together. Allegra accepted her cup without adding anything to it and took a mindless sip. Her gaze drifted toward the fire where the dogs were still dozing, her attention clearly elsewhere. John glanced in her direction and raised an eyebrow, as though he guessed where her thoughts had gone, but he said nothing. He went about adding cream and sugar to his coffee and grabbed a shortbread cookie before settling back in his chair.
Gabe left his drink black. He took a small sip, vaguely appreciating the coffee as a quality, and therefore a cost, he could never afford on a regular basis, then set the cup in the saucer.
“What if we didn’t kill her, but also didn’t capture her again,” he suggested, throwing out the idea that had half-formed in his mind during the silence. “What if we captured her and released her somewhere out of harm’s way. Somewhere she couldn’t hurt so many people.”
The suggestion sounded weak even to his own ears, but at this point he wanted to have a few options on the table before he made up his mind in any direction.
“She is not a stray cat, Gabriel,” Allegra chided gently, shifting her gaze away from the fire. “If she’s gone feral, as it seems she has, I would wager a guess that she will continue her rampage regardless of where we set her loose. She’s likely also acting out of revenge against the people who captured her. Even if you did manage to catch her and bring her to another location, it would not stop her from coming back to finish what she has begun.”