Song of Wishrock Harbor (The Invisible Entente Book 2)

by Krista Walsh

  John arched an eyebrow. “Oh?”

  Gabe held up his free hand. “I’m not about to choose sides. Memories fade over time. It’s possible that the truth of what happened two hundred and fifty years ago is lost to the annals of history. What I do know is that your story and Ligeia’s don’t match up, so I’m thinking we need to sit down and come up with some middle ground.”

  John’s smile remained, but the amusement seeped out of his eyes, the violet irises sparkling like amethysts.

  “What kind of middle ground do you have in mind?” he asked, and although no threat had entered his words, Gabe picked up a hint of impatience.

  “Ligeia and I have discussed it, and if you agree to set her free from the binding spell you cast before you trapped her, she agrees to leave you alone, to stop killing the men of New Haven, and to make a new life for herself elsewhere. Isn’t that right?”

  Gabe’s tongue felt like cotton as he turned to Ligeia. He wasn’t ready yet to check John’s reaction to his gamble. If John were telling the truth, this option would be the most palatable to him, a way to protect what mattered to him without any further loss of life. If not, the suggestion could potentially be the push that set the house on fire. Compared to John’s subtle manipulations — the steps he’d taken that Gabe hadn’t even noticed until Allegra and Ligeia pointed them out to him — he felt like a bumbling idiot, but he’d had to take the chance. He just prayed Ligeia would go along with him.

  Fortunately, she nodded, although her narrowed gaze never left John’s face.

  “You see?” Gabe said, turning his attention back to John. He was proud of himself for keeping the uncertain waver out of his voice. “We agreed the primary concern was to protect the people of this city. This agreement achieves that end.”

  John brushed his fingers over his mouth, then cleared his throat and said, “I see. That’s a very noble cause you’ve taken up. What sort of tale did the fair maiden weave to win you over to her perspective? I thought the agreement was that no one else should suffer for her crimes?”

  “I prefer to look at the well-being of everyone involved,” Gabe said.

  “And what of the lives she’s already taken? Should she not be held accountable for them?”

  “I believe two hundred years underwater is punishment enough,” he replied. “Ligeia swears she’ll feed only enough to survive and choose victims who are already close to death. If this is a lie, I promise to track her down wherever she goes next and stop her for good, but I don’t see any reason to believe that what she says is false.”

  John didn’t bother to restrain his laugh. “You are either the most noble-hearted creature, Mr. Mulligan, or the most naive. Is that what she told you? The lying little minx can’t bring herself to be honest for a single moment, can she? What web did you spin, little spider? Did you tell the brave young man that you were wronged? Did you play the innocent dove who was caged by the nasty old crow?”

  He sneered and Ligeia’s pale skin flushed pink, her arm trembling in Gabe’s grip. Her narrowed white eyes flared blue and her teeth sharpened into fangs that cut into her lips.

  “You dare deny it?” she demanded. She stepped forward, and Gabe jerked her back.

  Percy sucked in a breath in Gabe’s ear, and Gabe jumped, having forgotten he was there. “I can’t confirm who’s telling the truth,” Percy whispered. “Any records from New Haven from that time have either been destroyed or make no mention of the quarry. There was a sweep of the flu at the end of the century, but nothing to suggest it was unnatural. I’ll keep digging.”

  Gabe took a step forward and edged between the siren and the jinni, not trusting either of them to keep the peace.

  “Of course I deny it,” John said. “You and I made a deal, Ligeia. As long as you carried through on your end of the bargain, I had no reason to kill your lover. But women are not creatures to be trusted. You tried to steal away in the night. You broke your oath, so I took what was mine. Look at how many lives were lost because of it.”

  Ligeia clenched her hands into fists by her sides, and Gabe stared back and forth between them. He still suspected Ligeia hadn’t told the full truth, but John’s comments at least confirmed that she hadn’t straight-out lied.

  Whether he intended it or not, John had just confessed that he’d trapped Ligeia out of a jealous rage and not to stop any wild killing spree.

  Anger prickled the back of Gabe’s eyes and red crept into his vision. Although the soft voice that had encouraged him to let Ligeia have her revenge whispered to him that he shouldn’t be surprised, the sharp stab of betrayal turned his fingers numb.

  “The lives of the men she killed mean nothing to you, do they?” he said in a strangled voice, the heat of his anger rising. “You risked my life just to add another plaything to your toy collection.”

  John’s eyes widened, a hint of darker purple leaching into the edges of his violet gaze. “Are you really so innocent as to believe I came forward with the truth? I’m afraid you have quite a lot to learn about the rules of business.”

  The insult only fueled Gabe’s Gorgon rage. It struggled against his restraints and rose inside of him like fire, urging him to throw himself at the jinni and tear off his head. But his rational side knew that if he lost control now, he would lose his grip on the entire situation. Any advantage he’d possessed walking in would slip back under John’s more experienced thumb.

  He squeezed his shaking hands and breathed through his racing heartbeat so that when he spoke, it came out in a calmer growl. “Regardless of whether or not she broke your deal, she’s paid for her crime. She doesn’t want to be with you, and I think it would be in everyone’s best interests if you just let her go. Then you can both move on with your lives.”

  John’s gaze switched back to Gabe, the bright purple of his eyes weaseling past Gabe’s sunglasses into his soul. His brain tickled with the sensation of something crawling through his mind and he released a breath to ground himself, wiping his thoughts before John could pry anything out of him he didn’t want found.

  “I believe it would be unwise for you to step into my affairs,” John said, the friendly levity of his tone gone. “Perhaps the succubus should have accompanied you today to remind you of your place in this house. You may have captured the siren, but you are in my domain, and my rules will be obeyed. It’s best you don’t forget that.”

  Gabe released Ligeia’s arm to keep from squeezing her too tightly. Warmth crept up his cheeks and down into his hands. “I don’t take kindly to threats. You and I made a deal and I’ve kept my end. She’s here, isn’t she? That means any bond between us is broken.”

  He doubted that bringing Ligeia into the house actually completed the entire deal, but he didn’t feel like pointing that out.

  John dropped his gaze, and as though he realized he’d overreacted, he held his palms up. “I’m willing to agree with you, but it sounds like you’ve come to me in search of a new deal. If I let the siren go, what do you promise to give me in return?”

  Ligeia stepped on Gabe’s foot, and he pressed his lips together. He’d known John would try something like this, but he had hoped it would be while they were still on a more amicable footing.

  “Psst,” Percy whispered. “You said this guy would do anything for his reputation, right? Try using that against him. I’m bringing up some of his corporate history. The early files of New Haven are lost, but I’ve tracked him around the world. Looks like he’s had a string of bad luck with employees over the past few centuries. As in, they died. As in, horribly. I’m still digging up the deets, but this guy hates not getting his own way.”

  A smile tugged at Gabe’s lips, but he schooled his expression. “If you let her go, you get to continue living your curator’s lifestyle and carry on with your businesses, and I don’t tell the authorities about certain secrets you’d rather they not know.”

  He didn’t feel good about being reduced to blackmail, but as things stood, he thought Percy had the right o
f it. Gabe doubted the jinni would want to give up his precious collections just for the sake of one pretty face.

  John chuckled, but the laugh sounded cold. “What do you hope to accomplish here? You could reveal a dozen of my supposed crimes, but I earn enough money from this town to buy my freedom ten thousand times over. Then where would you be?”

  Percy whispered in Gabe’s ear, and Gabe’s struggle to keep his smile hidden grew greater. “I wasn’t thinking of reporting you to the human authorities, Mr. Deverill. I bet it’s been a long time since you’ve dealt with the Tartaran guards. I’m sure they’d love to remind you that they don’t care if you have the money to buy the prison out from under them. It wouldn’t make any difference.” The wardens of Tartarus cared for nothing but a harsh justice.

  The first hint of uncertainty glinted in John’s eyes. “They would not imprison me based on the pitiful evidence of one woman’s story about events that took place over two centuries ago. Where is your proof?”

  “He’s going to wish he didn’t ask that question,” said Percy, a laugh in his voice. “You should see the files I’m bringing up on all of his companies. A lot of events that, on the surface, look like bad accidents, but there’s definitely more to it than that.”

  “There will be enough of it, I promise,” Gabe said to John. “In another half hour, I’m going to have more information about you than you probably remember about yourself. So how about we keep things civil, play nice, and you let her go.”

  John’s smile widened, his confidence clinging to him like a shield.

  “I don’t believe you’ve yet learned this about me, Mr. Mulligan, but I don’t play nice. I take what’s mine.”

  “Okay, well that doesn’t sound good,” said Percy.

  Ligeia screamed, and Gabe twisted toward her to see David wrapping his beefy arms around her torso. In the foyer, the wolfhounds howled, and their claws screeched against the tiles. John threw back his head and laughed as a heavy weight landed on Gabe’s shoulders and sent him crashing to the floor.

  He rolled onto his back and braced his arms over his eyes to block the jaws of the slavering hound. Its sharp teeth gnashed in his face, and drool slithered over its maw to drip onto Gabe’s chin.

  The second hound wrapped its jaws around Gabe’s left ankle, and its teeth sank into his flesh. He cried out and jerked his right leg back to slam it into the side of the hound’s snout. The dog vanished at the impact and reappeared in the doorway to launch itself at him again.

  The dog on Gabe’s chest snapped at his face. He raised his arms and thrust it back. Again, as soon as he shoved it away, the hound vanished and reappeared. But then four of them stood around him, all of them drooling and snarling, their teeth bared and hackles raised.

  Gabe jumped to his feet with his hands in front of him. He’d always had an affinity with dogs. Dogs were loyal and ruthless when threatened. Just as he could be. He snarled and leapt at them. As he came down on them, three of the four beasts vanished, and he crashed to the floor where they’d stood. His head smashed against the gilded edge of a chair and stars burst in his vision.

  He shook himself out and rolled onto his side to survey the room. David and Ligeia were struggling beside the couch. His hand was clamped over her mouth, and he had her wrapped so tightly in a thick-armed bear-hug that Gabe was sure he’d crack a rib. She struggled to free herself, but the harder she pulled, the more the muscles beneath David’s suit bulged.

  Near the window, John stood with his arms crossed, his expression hungry and fascinated.

  He wasn’t getting his hands dirty, just as he hadn’t in Ligeia’s story. John used humans and beasts to commit his crimes, making him as much a coward as a monster.

  “Gabe,” Percy hissed, drawing Gabe’s attention to his ear. “I hear another one coming on your left.”

  Gabe rolled out of the way, and one of the hounds landed where his head had been. He swung his fist toward the dog’s face. It vanished and reappeared at his feet.

  Gabe lurched away from the wolfhound and sprinted across the room to Ligeia’s aid, barreling into David. He wrapped his arms around the man’s waist, but barely shifted the giant’s center of gravity. The butler removed his hand from Ligeia’s mouth and took a swing at Gabe’s head. Gabe dodged and spun out of reach as Ligeia started singing.

  Three notes cut through the air before David backhanded her. She tumbled onto the couch, and Gabe ran at him again, his head aimed for the man’s gut. David wrapped his arms around Gabe’s torso from the top, and Gabe went dead-weight. The force of his body dragged David down, and with a shriek, Ligeia leapt on top of his back. Gabe saw nothing but the floor from his bent position, and his glasses tumbled to the purple carpet. He squeezed his eyes shut as he heard a cry from David. The pain in his chest grew in intensity until the man collapsed sideways and hit the floor, his grip going slack.

  Gabe grabbed his sunglasses and jumped to his feet. His chest ached with the force of his panting and the speed of his heartbeat. The black spots that had entered his vision when he’d hit his head continued to dance.

  Something wet dripped down his chin, and when he wiped the back of his hand across his mouth, it came away red. He spat out the blood pooling behind his bottom lip and glanced at Ligeia.

  The nightmare version of her stood in front of him with her shoulders hunched, her bound hands curled in front of her. Blood dripped from her elongated claws, and when Gabe dropped his gaze to David, he saw the butler curled on his side, blood streaming from his eye sockets.

  Ligeia and Gabe turned their attention to John, who had lost his detached confidence and stood with his hands squeezed into fists by his thighs. His violet eyes were wide, the whites bloodshot. His formerly slicked-back hair now wisped around his head where he must have shoved his hands through it.

  He curled his lips into a snarl, and his wolfhounds, six of them now, crowded around him.

  Gabe braced his feet against the floor, ready to fly at the jinni if he moved first, but John remained still. A tic in the corner of his mouth formed a sick half smile, and Gabe’s vision shimmered around him.

  At his side, Ligeia let out a shriek that raised the hair on Gabe’s arms. Her eyes went white and she tore at her dress, the chains stopping her from raising her hands higher than her chest. As though she’d been possessed by some unseen demon, she grabbed at the air in a way that made her look like she was swimming, then she dropped to the floor and began rocking back and forth.

  “I can’t be back! No. No! Get me out of the dark!”

  Gabe’s stomach churned as he realized that somehow her mind was no longer in the jinni’s cluttered palace, but was once more trapped in the river’s darkness, hunted by the shadows reaching for her with the current.

  John’s laugh erupted from his chest, and the sound swept through the room as though through a dozen speakers. A pain punched through Gabe’s head, and the room around him turned smoky.

  When his vision cleared, he found himself standing in the forest next to a singing river. Next to his brother.

  21

  Gabe’s skin tingled, his hair dancing on his arms. He glanced down at his hands, expecting to see the smooth skin of a child. Instead, the scars he’d accumulated over the years showed pale against his golden tan, the fingernails thicker and shorter than they’d been when he and Rick had run through the forest as if they owned it.

  Tears pooled in his eyes as his fourteen-year-old brother smiled up at him. Rick poked Gabe in the ribs with his knobby elbow and jerked his head toward the river, then started to run. Ice formed in the pit of Gabe’s stomach and his throat closed at the reek of river water and the crash of waves against the rocks. He never moved, but the world around him shifted. When it settled, he stood on the river bank, one foot on the edge, the rushing current lapping over the toe of his boot.

  Trapped air pressed against his lungs and his blood pulsed in his veins. He longed to breathe to settle his nausea, but he couldn’t move — couldn’
t think.

  He tried to call for Rick, but couldn’t form the words.

  Rick is dead.

  The part of Gabe that knew this to be true struggled against the images that stood so vividly around him. The scene was so clear, so true to his memory, that he couldn’t believe it was fake.

  Because it felt so real, he knew what he would see if he looked down at the surface of the water.

  He screwed his eyes up tight to avoid reliving the moment he had run from for most of his childhood. The moment that had turned his life from an idyllic boyhood to a spiraling nightmare of tragedy and loss. Brother, father, mother — all lost because of his failure.

  Even as he fought against the urge, the need to open his eyes and look pierced through his mind like a physical pain. Against his will, his eyes flew open, and he stared into the river. White caps bubbled along the surface with each new wave. They washed against the bank, against Gabe’s boots, and his toes curled with the cold.

  For a brief moment, the white caps cleared, and his brother’s face appeared under the water. His mouth gaped open in a silent scream, and his last breath bubbled upward.

  A cry caught in Gabe’s chest, choking him. His knees ached with his desire to kneel down and pull his brother free, but in the depths of himself, he knew such action would only lead to madness. He needed to get a hold on his mind, or he would be trapped in his nightmare forever, doomed to stay by the riverbank and suffer under his crushing grief, his guilt, for the rest of his life.

  His rational thoughts slammed against the barrier created by John’s spell. The illusion shimmered, and Gabe squeezed his fists.

  You’re stronger than this. You can resist him.

  He clenched his teeth and ground them together. The pain shooting along his jaw shocked him further out of his mental prison.

  “Gabe?” His name floated toward him from a far distance, and he latched on to the sound to drag himself back to the bright gray and purple room.

  Sweat dripped down his back, and his blood flared with a sharp heat.