Blood Chained (Dark Siren Book 3)

by Eden Ashley

  “Yeah well, Rhane is unavailable.”

  “I realize that.”

  York heaved a sigh. “We’ll do our best, Ian. You’ve been there for us over and over again this past year. It’s time to return the favor.”

  “It is my understanding that no favors exist between allies.”

  “It’s just an expression, Ian.”

  Kali wrestled down a snicker, and projected as much sincerity she could muster. “I will be there too. We will all do what we can to help keep your pack safe.”

  Ian answered with a deep bow. “You are most kind.”

  “The dark one is many things.”

  They all turned at the sound of Dmiri’s voice. Bailen got to his feet and licked Kali’s hand once, and very gently.

  Ian was the first to greet the unusual kindred. “Welcome home, old friend.”

  One by one, each and every kindred rose to its feet. Kali was certain she was seeing an important insight into kindred ranks.

  “Thank you, Ian.”

  “Yorkshire was just about to question the prisoner. If he allows your accompaniment to the interrogation, I would very much like to know what sort of creature we have captured.”

  Dmiri turned his reddish gaze to York and waited. York shrugged. “Whatever. Come join the party.”

  Chapter 29

  Officer Jackson’s lean frame was securely lashed to the arms and legs of a large, wooden chair. The guy was ten years younger than his looks would have led one to believe. Sharp, angular features gave him a rather bird-like appearance. His cheekbones were prominent enough to have belonged to a Native American. A slash of a mouth and a long nose did a poor job of offsetting two rather dark and harshly slanted eyes.

  Orrin had emptied the contents of the wallet handed to him by one of the kindred guards. Dmiri hung back while York circled the captive. Jackson silently tracked every move, studying each of them in turn. Things were silent for so long, Kali was surprised when Jackson finally spoke. A thick southern drawl coated every word. “None of y’all are him.”

  Folding his arms, York stopped circling. “Who exactly are you looking for, pal?”

  Jackson’s hawkish eyes pinned on York. “Mr. Harvey,” he answered.

  Wilfred Harvey was the alias Rhane had been using since his arrival in Ridge Creek. It was the name on the manor’s title, as well as the one always given to any authorities.

  York shook his head. “Well, Harvey ain’t available. So you’re gonna have to deal with me.”

  Kali was pretty sure York’s mockery of Jackson’s accent was intentional.

  “And who exactly are you?”

  “I’m the guy in charge when Harvey’s not around. So I’m the one who’ll decide if and when we let you go. Now tell me why you’re here.”

  The hawkish glare on Jackson’s face became even more severe as the officer appeared to consider his options. At last, he rolled his eyes with a sigh. “Well at least you actually live at this residence.” He sniffed the air in all directions, stopping when his nose pointed at Kali. “She’s different from the rest of you.”

  “Those are called pheromones, Sherlock, sweetened with a spice of estrogen.”

  “No. She’s something different.”

  Kali nearly took a step backward, feeling several hairs at the back of her neck wither. “York,” she whispered in warning and was suddenly compelled to tuck the Heart away from Officer Jackson’s sight.

  “We’re not talking about the lady.” York’s voice dropped dangerously low. “And this is the last time I’ll ask you to tell me why you’re here.”

  That got Jackson’s attention.

  “It’s been nearly a year since it happened. Late one evening, I was patrolling the woods surrounding this manor, and I was attacked. To this day I don’t know what it was that bit me. But one thing I do know for sure—it wasn’t any sort of thing God made.” While the truth of the officer’s words was yet to be ascertained, there was no doubting the fear that gripped the poor man even now as he recalled events from a year ago. “I bumped into Harvey a few days later. He saw the bandage and it was like he knew. He asked me what happened. But I didn’t know then…I couldn’t make sense of what my own eyes saw.”

  Jackson stopped. Seconds dragged by in his silence, but no one pushed him. Kali presumed the others were just as riveted by his story as she was.

  “The wound took a long time to heal. I got real sick. Fever, chills…sweats that started at sundown made for a terrible run of sleepless nights. I couldn’t eat. Couldn’t get out of bed. I thought I was dying. Then one night, something inside me broke free. I started to change. My body started to change. And I wasn’t sick anymore. Haven’t been sick a day since.”

  “Fascinating,” Dmiri commented softly from the shadows.

  York cocked his head to one side. “What kind of changes are we talking about?”

  “I can smell beef cooking at Big Bertha’s Patty House four blocks away in my apartment. Conversations held a hundred yards off, I can hear as clear as day. My vision is better too. So are the reflexes. I’m a runner, but I’d never done twelve miles without being winded until after receiving the bite.”

  “Alright,” York said slowly. “How’s your appetite? Have you experienced any urges to disembowel and/or eat pretty blondes out for evening jogs?”

  Jackson was not amused. “This isn’t a joke.”

  “How many cars have you chased this week?”

  A graveled snarl ripped from Jackson’s throat as he lunged. But the ropes held fast and his struggle did little except to rock the chair, tipping it forward. York planted his foot against the seat, countering the momentum, and the crack of wooden feet slamming into floorboards split the air like a whip. But something else happened. So quickly, Kali almost missed it. For the briefest of moments Jackson’s pupils had shimmered. She thought of a small animal in a dark roadway, frozen by the fluorescent beam of headlights.

  “Did you see that?”

  Orrin nodded. “I saw it.”

  “I saw it too,” Kali volunteered.

  “Shit.” York looked at Dmiri. “Okay, what is this guy?”

  Dmiri moved closer, observing every inch of Jackson. “Never have I been so close to one of them.”

  “One what? What is he?”

  “The same as those who approached in the train yard—he is a merchant.”

  “A what?”

  “A merchant,” Dmiri repeated placidly. “As you know, survivors of the Warekin armies dispersed after the massacre and assimilated into human culture. After several generations of breeding with homo-sapiens, the shapeshifting gene disappeared within those diluted bloodlines. But in some instances the gene entered a sort of dormancy. It was rumored that descendants of Warekin, once bitten by either rogue or kindred could develop supernatural abilities and heightened senses not unlike what dear Jackson is experiencing.”

  “Whoa,” Rion muttered.

  “Ditto,” Kali agreed.

  Across the room, Jackson had settled to his calmer self and actually looked relieved at Dmiri’s explanation of his condition. “So will you help me, then? Can someone change me back?”

  The sage kindred shook his head. “I am afraid your transformation is permanent.”

  “But there are others like me.”

  Dmiri hesitated. “Yes,” he finally answered.

  “Great,” York said, bringing his hands together in a loud clap. “You’ve got your answers. Promise to go away and leave us alone, then I’ll cut you lose.”

  But Jackson’s attention was still on Dmiri. “Tell me how to find them,” he said.

  “Dude, weren’t you listening? This is his first time being this close to one of your species. I doubt he knows the location of the lair.”

  “York is correct. I do not know for certain where others like you can be found.”

  “You said earlier, merchants got pretty close in a train yard. Where was that?”

  Dmiri deferred to York. “I am not s
ure we should reveal that information.”

  Several seconds passed where York didn’t answer. Rion raised his hand. “What?” York asked tightly.

  “If it’s the only way to get rid of him, there’s no reason why we shouldn’t tell him. No one realized we would have heat on our trail after getting back here, so we didn’t exactly bury our tracks. Jackson is a government official. He won’t even need a shovel to figure out where we went.”

  Lifting one eyebrow, York looked back to Dmiri. “The boy has a point.”

  “He does,” the kindred conceded.

  Rion grinned. “I do.”

  Jackson practically seemed ready to jump out of his seat—were he not tied to it. “So tell me.”

  York pulled a switchblade from his pocket, using it to slash through the bindings. But when the young man attempted to stand, York pushed him back down to the chair. “I need your word first.”

  “I won’t bother any of you again. I swear it.”

  “Good enough. We were in China.” A set of keys arced through the air as York tossed them to Jackson.

  “Which train yard?”

  “Use your new nose. Figure it out.”

  Jackson narrowed his already slant eyes, making them almost disappear. “Do you have any idea how long it will take to find the correct set of tracks using only a sense of smell? I need more information.”

  York scowled. “That’s kinda the point. In case you don’t keep your word, at least this will keep you busy for awhile. Now get out of here before I change my mind.”

  Chapter 30

  “We still need to talk about the statue.”

  “I know.” Kali looked down, away from York’s relentless scrutiny. He sat across from her at the dining table, clutching a sweating beer bottle. Kali thought he looked worse after the two hour nap. Purple bruises were faint blotches beneath two glassy but determined brown eyes. With both stipulations met, York was ready to talk about the fate of the Siren’s Heart. “You think Jackson will keep his word?” she said.

  “If he doesn’t, we’ll deal with it then. Right now we’ve got a much bigger problem to solve.”

  “I want him back so bad.”

  “I know. Me too.” York drummed his fingers against the glass beer bottle. “I think we need to revisit what Dmiri said. The guy is a total weirdo and gives me the creeps worse than Ian, but he’s smart. Sometimes, I think he knows things before they happen.”

  Kali bobbed her head in silent accord. She agreed with everything except the creepiness, instead finding Dmiri’s unusual mannerisms to be somewhat endearing. She missed his presence now, having grown used to it the past several days. But since the Heart was in their possession and with the threat of Officer Jackson forestalled for now, the kindred had vacated the manor’s premises with Ian’s guarantee that regular patrols of the property would continue.

  “He doesn’t think we can stop Blight and save Warren too.” There. It needed to be said.

  York took another swig of beer. “So our choice is between saving the world or freeing Rhane and War.”

  “I owe this world nothing.” The statement sounded harsh in her own ears.

  “But we should at least try to do the right thing first. We should stick to the plan. Let’s call Wesley, see if we can barter for Rhane and War’s freedom.”

  “I don’t trust him, York. He played a huge role in keeping Rhane and me apart for centuries.”

  “I know. But we’ve got to try. We can’t unleash hell onto innocent people without at least trying to fight for both sides.”

  Unconvinced, Kali chewed her lip. “And if that doesn’t work?”

  York spread both hands wide against the wood surface. Staring down at his fingers, for a moment he didn’t meet her eyes. “I’m prepared to do whatever it takes.”

  “Then I’ll make the call.”

  Wes answered on the fifth ring. “Oh thank god it’s you, Kalista. I was beginning to get worried.”

  She swallowed, closing herself off against a wall of mixed emotions. “It’s good to hear your voice.”

  There was an audible exhale as Wes breathed into the line. “It’s good to hear yours too.” For too long, no one said anything. Finally Wes broke the silence. “Did Rhane return with you?”

  “No. I still need your help with that.”

  “Look, I’ve got to run to a meeting with a very important client. With Mack not around to lead the charge bringing in new inventory, the focus has shifted to pushing sales within our current catalog. You’ve missed way too many days lately. I need you to catch up the backlog from a recent dig our interns did last month. Their paperwork was a mess. Until that data is fixed, I can’t put the scraps they did find up for the upcoming auction.”

  Kali understood the brush-off and redirection. The line wasn’t secure, so it was possible that other ears were listening in on their conversation. Good thing it wasn’t hard to come up with an excuse for a late evening at Mack Ventures, Inc. A plethora of work always awaited her. “No problem, Wes. I’ll come in this afternoon and won’t leave until those reports are done.”

  “Okay. Great, I’ll see you soon.”

  She hung up. York opened another beer, prying the cap off with the edge of the dining table. “Don’t take the Heart with you.”

  “I know. I’m not stupid.” She started to get up from her chair but stopped. “Wait. You aren’t coming?”

  “Nah. I don’t belong. My being there might tip off whoever’s watching.”

  “Rion is technically still on payroll.”

  York jerked his chin upward. “Then he’ll go with you.”

  #

  From the instant Kali sank into her office chair, the battle of wills began. Half of her brain stoutly dedicated itself to completing reports from her actual workload. The other half of it screamed to storm into Wesley’s office and commence bargaining, threatening, and/or pleading a case for Rhane’s release.

  After torturously parading by her desk at least three times with a slight shake of the head to indicate it wasn’t the right moment, Wesley’s voice finally crackled through the desk intercom. “Kali, my office please.”

  Scrambling from her chair, she had already taken two steps before remembering to confirm his summons. Lunging back to the intercom, Kali pressed the button for the speaker. “Right away,” she said breathlessly and forced herself to walk normally across the room and down the corridor to his office. She was about to knock, but Wes’s voice called out instead. “It’s open. Come in.”

  Visually, Wes couldn’t have been any more normal of a guy. Blue eyes, blonde hair, average build, and all-American charm. Kali wasn’t sure if a time would come when the truth of what her oldest friend was would stop being a shock. Wes was a superhuman entity whose true form she had yet to see. He had created her—a siren—as well as several other races of non-humans. And if he was to be believed, Wes spearheaded a plot to save the inhabitants of the earth.

  He smiled as she eased herself into a seat across from him. “Alone at last.”

  “Is it safe to talk here?”

  “Yes. I’ve made sure of it.”

  “Sometimes Shannon listens in.”

  Wes laced his fingers beneath his chin and shook his head. “She won’t this time.”

  Kali relaxed, but only a fraction. “I have the statue.”

  Wes flinched, suddenly looking alarmed. “With you?”

  “No,” she said quickly, somewhat puzzled by his reaction. “It’s safe.”

  “Good.”

  “Convince the Primes to let Rhane go, and the Heart is yours.”

  “Kali, I’m afraid that’s impossible.”

  “What?” His words sent a jolt of panic through her system. “What do you mean ‘impossible’? You’re a Builder. You can do just about anything.”

  Beneath a pinched brow, his blue eyes became troubled. “I can’t do what you’re asking.”

  “I don’t understand. Rhane is your champion. Free him so he can finish t
his war. It is what you wanted.”

  “Then I’m afraid I have misled you.”

  Kali’s mouth dropped. Her head was reeling. Her stomach clenched. It felt like she could puke. Wes had betrayed her again. She was uninterested in anything else he had to say, but damn him, he was still talking. “I’m sorry, Kali. I really am.”

  Kali stood up. “You lied to me. Again.”