by Wendy Stone
“Little to nothing. I saw the body out there earlier, I believe he was a merman, wasn’t he?”
“We’re still determining his species, Mr. James. I guess my big question would be what you know of the girl whose mattress you’re sitting on?”
“Ahh, the girl,” Kadian said. “Pretty redhead, very petite, a little on the skinny side? Not much. I talked to her once and then I believe your people detained me.”
“Mr. James,” Shadow growled, getting tired of Kadian’s flippant answers. “Interfering in an investigation is a very serious charge.”
“All I’m doing is sitting on a mattress in a deserted building. How that could possibly be construed as impeding an investigation is beyond me.”
Callie stepped up next to Shadow and whispered something in his ear. He looked down and nodded at her and she disappeared back into the shadows once more.
“Mr. James,” Shadow said, his voice deadly serious as he stepped closer to Kadian. “If anyone else is killed because of this girl, I’m going to find some way to file charges on you for being an accessory to murder. Now, if you know her whereabouts, it is in your best interest to tell us.”
“So you can take her down to your interrogation rooms? So you can let your vampire loose on her? Think about it. Shadow, isn’t it? Would you do that to someone you care about?” Kadian growled, his eyes flashing fire, the dragon fighting for control of the man.
“We want to question her, not torture her,” Shadow said, holding his hands out in a placating way.
“I am very old, I’ve lived throughout centuries, sir. One thing that I’ve learned in all that time, life doesn’t change all that much. People still use, humans are cruel and hate what they don’t understand. Tolerance is just something that is preached. When a cop tells you they just want to question someone, it usually involves something else. I have no clue where she is.”
“Would you tell me if you did?”
“I’d have to, wouldn’t I? It’s the law. Now, am I free to go?” Kadian asked calmly, though his eyes still glittered in the dark.
“Yes,” Shadow growled. “But stay in the city.”
“So I’m a suspect now too?”
“No, we checked, you weren’t in town during the previous two murders, there’s no way you could be responsible for them.”
“Fine, then keep your dogs off of my tail or I’ll send them back barbequed.” Kadian strode off, his shoulders stiff with anger. He pulled his cell phone out of his pocket. By the time he got to the bottom of the stairs and out the front doors, which were hanging at an angle, his limo was there.
“Drive,” he told his driver.
“Any particular destination, Mr. James or are you just wanting to cruise?”
“Head over to Fifth and Maple, Mick. I’m looking for a girl.”
Mick stared in the rearview mirror. He’d been Mr. James’s driver since the man had found him in an alley, hunting mice to live. He’d give his life for Kadian and had pulled the were-dragon out of some sticky situations before. But he’d never heard him wanting to pick up a girl. Women threw themselves at him. He’d only had to open his mouth and the women swarmed, wanting to hear him croon love songs and have their names linked with the famous singer.
But none interested him for longer than a day or two, then he was on to the next. “Ah, sir?” Mick asked quietly. “If you’re looking for a girl, wouldn’t Eighth Avenue be a better place to look?”
“I’m not looking for just any girl, Mick. This one is special.” Kadian sat back in the soft leather seat, staring around the spacious limo. His eyes strayed to the window and he watched as the ASP members walked out of the building, heading to their SUV. Shadow’s eyes were on him almost as if he could see him. Kadian knew he couldn’t. The limo’s windows were tinted, no one could see in unless he wanted it.
“Mick?” Kadian called. “Drive around the block a few times until my friends here leave the area, could you?”
“Yes, sir, Mr. James,” Mick said, hitting the turn signal and waiting for the light to change. He handled the big vehicle easily. It was his pride and joy and he took special pride in keeping the black machine tuned and gleaming.
On their next trip around, the SUV was gone, but Kadian wasn’t satisfied. “One more time,” he said to Mick. “Then head over to Fifth Street.”
Kadian reached over, grabbing one of many guitars off the seat across from him. Slowly he picked out the song that had come from Charisma.
“That is beautiful, sir. Is it for the new CD?”
“I’m not sure. I don’t know how it ends yet.”
Ten minutes later, Mick pulled up next to the small subway entry, putting the car in park and leaving the engine running. This area of town wasn’t the safest though no one dared mug Mr. James. He knew how to take care of himself and the people who worked for him.
“She’s petite, Mick. About five feet, two inches, maybe. She’ll be wearing an old black leather duster and she has red hair.”
“If I see her?” Mick asked.
“Don’t try to detain her. Call me on my cell, okay?”
Mick nodded, watching as Kadian got out of the car and headed into the subway. He sat there, watching the stairs. People came and went, some staring at the huge limo parked so conspicuously, almost blatantly nearby. None of them were the little redhead his boss was looking for.
* * * *
Kadian skipped down the stairs, his eyes moving over the few people who used this entrance. It was a ragtag group of people coming home late from work, their eyes tired and half dead, staring at the rich looking man with his battered and scarred leather jacket and shoes that cost more than they made in a month.
Kadian ignored them, hurrying past the turnstile and to the platform. He checked the area carefully, seeing no security before he jumped on the tracks. The dim light ahead was easy for him to pick up and he jogged toward it, eager now to see her.
The first of the homeless stared up at him, almost as if they didn’t see him. They went about their business, gathering their possessions around them and giving him no pause. In some, Kadian could sense the confusion that went with mental illness. In some, he sensed such sadness that he barely touched upon their emotions. Such sadness was personal and none of his business. Truthfully, he knew that sadness, had felt it himself upon his mother’s death.
Even as he avenged her death upon the knights who had taken his mother’s head, the sadness hadn’t lifted, not as he’d thought it would. Instead, he’d squatted upon the body of one of the knight and screamed out his rage and sadness to the four winds, peppering the air with bursts of fire before lifting the dead knight in his big front claws. This man would find no rest upon hallowed ground. He would be left high in the mountains, his body carrion for those who would have it. His bones would be scattered and he would never be at peace.
The thought of his mother, of her beauty and goodness, of watching her go off to battle these knights who’d besmirched the honor of so many of the village’s maidens, could almost send him to his knees even now. He didn’t have time for such weaknesses. He had to find Charisma before anymore of Hood’s hired thugs or the ASP team could find her.
His step picked up and he cocked his head to the side, listening for her voice. It was an unmistakable voice, one that he couldn’t forget. He felt a presence at his back and turned, seeing the blow coming a second before it would have connected. Ducking under the fist, he grabbed it, spinning his attacker so that his arm was held up and between his shoulder blades.
Giving him a push, he sent him stumbling off, hearing by his footsteps that the man wasn’t going to try to attack again.
That was when he saw her. She was standing to the side, a blanket in her hands as she’d been bending to cover an old woman who lay shivering upon the ground. Kadian strode quickly toward her, taking the blanket out of her hands and completing her task before taking her arm. “Charisma,” he said, savoring the taste of her name upon his lips. “We have to g
et you out of here.”
“Who the hell are you?” she asked, her soft voice exotic with a hint of an accent that he couldn’t place.
“My name is Kadian James, Charisma. I’m a friend. Please let me help you.” He could feel the muscles under his hand tighten and knew she wanted to pull away. “ASP is looking for you in connection to three murders. Hood wants you. For what, I don’t know. I want to help.”
“Why? People don’t just help for no reason,” she countered.
“I can’t get you out of my mind, Charisma. You’ve snuck in here,” he said, tapping his head. “I have to help you. Please, come with me and I’ll take you some place safe.”
“How do I know I’ll be safe with you?” she asked, though when he tugged on her arm to pull her away from the old lady, she didn’t resist.
“You have my word,” he said, placing his hand on his heart as knights of old did when they made a vow. He bowed slightly, staring into her amazing eyes. He could feel her bones under his hand, amazed at how little and light they seemed to be. She wore her duster as if it were part of her, a pair of pointed toe cowboy boots on her feet. Black jeans that had seen better days caressed her hips and clung to her thighs, dropping to flare slightly over her boots. A black tank top stretched over her breasts, outlining the perfect shape of each mound and giving hint to the texture of her nipples.
Her hair flowed across her shoulders and down her back, curling in big tresses that lay like fire on the black of her clothing.
“I can take you somewhere that you can get a shower, some clean clothes and a bed to sleep in,” he offered, keeping her thin wrist in his hands. “Please, come with me.”
“I don’t even know you and you want me to trust you. You want me to come with you. How do I know that you aren’t one of Hood’s thugs?”
Kadian reached up, grabbing one of his ears and tugging on it. “See, no gills. I’m not one of Hood’s fish men.”
“How do you know of Hood and his fish men? How do you know me?”
Kadian sighed. “I’ll be happy to tell you, Charisma, but not right yet. We have to get out of here.”
She was shaking her head even as he spoke. “I don’t even know you. Let me go!” She would have pulled away, but he still had her wrist in his hand.
He heaved another sigh. Life was never easy. “I’m sorry, Charisma, I wanted to do this a different way but…” he let the sentence hang, balling up his fist and hitting her on the tip of her stubborn chin. It was a delicate tap considering what he could do, but she folded, heading for the ground until he lifted her in his arms and threw her over his shoulder.
The sound of a whistle brought his head up and he stared down the tunnel, amazed at the sight of flashlights heading toward him. The man he’d seen Charisma talking to earlier that day came running up to him. “What did you do to her?” he scowled. “We have to get her out of here. It’s the cops. They’re looking for her.”
“Is there another way out?” Kadian asked, hating the thought of trying to break through the tons of cement, dirt and who knows what else above him. He’d do it if he had to, but he really didn’t want to take that route.
“Follow me,” the man said, taking off at a shuffling run. Kadian glanced at his feet, seeing the bandages that trailed behind the man, stained brown with blood. No wonder the man couldn’t move that fast. He pushed past a few other homeless and then pushed aside a steel plate hiding a tunnel. “Go through there. It’ll take you back around to the platform. Wait until the police have cleared out and you should be able to get her somewhere safe. I’ll lead them away from you.”
Kadian stopped the man. Holding out his hand, he waited for the man to grasp his. “Thank you,” he said.
“She’s very special, don’t let her get hurt.”
“I’ll protect her with my life,” Kadian vowed. Then he tossed her higher on his shoulder and got down so that he could crawl through the tunnels. The steel plate scraped as it was pushed back into place, cutting off all the light.
He crawled by feel, moving slowly, his hands scooting forward to test the ground in front of him before he put much weight on it. In the dark, the tunnel seemed to squeeze down around him and he felt fear wiggling at his spine. He wanted to shout, to scream, to hide away from this darkness that seemed almost unnatural. He swallowed his fear, forcing himself to go on, the thought of what could happen to Charisma if she was caught helping. Finally, he realized he could see his hands again, the light having snuck up on him.
A few feet further was a metal grate. He was a good ten feet above the floor in an air duct that should have led to the surface, but didn’t. Staying back from the grate, he managed to lay Charisma in the tunnel next to him as he watched the cops scurrying around and acting officious.
It seemed to take hours before they left, gathering their tools with them. They’d cleaned out the tunnel, but the homeless would be back. It was too sheltered a place for them to give up easily. They would come back and then the cops would come again and clear them out, a never-ending circle.
Charisma began to stir. He scooted over toward her, laying his fingers against her soft lips. “Cops,” he whispered, pointing toward the grate and the scene on the other side.
She nodded, letting him know she understood, but he didn’t remove his fingers right away. Instead, he gently traced her lips, feeling their softness, the slightly slick sensation where they parted. He moved closer to her, his eyes seeming to glow in the dim light that came through the grate. His face was dirty, a streak of grime crossing his handsome brow and another streak on his cheek. It gave him a much more humanizing look. She found it more attractive.
“Who are you?” she whispered. “Why are you here?”
“I’m Kadian James. I’m here because your music called to me.”
“My music? You mean my singing. I’ve always had that affect upon people.”
“No, Charisma, not your singing, though from what I’ve heard, that is beautiful as well. No, I’m speaking of your music, the music you have in here.”
He felt her start as his hand rested gently upon her chest. He could feel the upper curves of her small breasts and the frantic beating of her heart and thought once again how she reminded him of a bird, tiny and oh so fragile.
“In my heart?” she asked, squinting up at him.
“No, in your soul,” he said. “Close your eyes.”
“Why?’ she asked, looking at him with distrust.
“Just do it. I’m not going to hurt you, Charisma.”
“Tell that to my head,” she grumped, closing her eyes, though they fluttered open once when he moved closer.
“Keep them closed,” he ordered. “Now I want you to listen, not with your ears but deep inside of you. Search down deep and listen to what that tells you.”
He waited, watching her face. When a smile bloomed upon her soft lips, he grinned in response. “You can hear that?”
“It’s beautiful,” she whispered as if afraid that speaking would stop the music. “Is it mine or yours?”
“Search deeper. Let your soul tell you what you need to know.”
Charisma gasped again as a picture formed in her mind. A small woman with fiery red hair, dressed in sparkling satins and shimmering silk. She sat upon a huge beast with a neck that arched and a fierce head, with huge fangs and long sharp horns that pushed back from his skull. The beast had huge leathery wings and a long barbed tail, but she sat upon it as if it were the tamest of horses, docile under her gentle touch.
“What do you see?” Kadian whispered.
“It’s like a scene from some fantasy movie,” she breathed. “It’s me, on the back of a dragon. At least, I think it’s a dragon. I’ve never seen one before.”
Kadian reached out, placing his hand against her temple, feeling her pulse throbbing under his fingers. Closing his eyes, he could see into her mind, finding the image she described and smiling his delight. That she saw him as a dragon sent his heart skipping faster. “You�
�re beautiful,” he breathed, catching a delightful glimpse of her dimples in his mind’s eye.
“It’s like a duet playing,” she breathed, still too enthralled by what she was seeing and feeling to glean the truth.
He glanced away from her face, watching out the grate as the last of the police left. No one was about. “We should get out of here,” he said softly, not wanting to break her concentration.
“And go where?” she asked, her eyes still closed.
“My car is waiting at the top of the stairs. I have a huge apartment here in the city. I know there’s room for you there. I have a lot of guest rooms,” he said quickly as she peeked out through her lashes at him. “I’m working on my next CD and I’m barely there, so you aren’t putting me out. No one will look for you there and it’ll give you a chance to rest up for a while.”
“You’d hide a fugitive from the law, a killer, in your apartment?”
“It was self defense, wasn’t it?” he asked, furious that she’d made him respond.
“Yeah, Hood wants me dead because I won’t do as he commands.”
“What does he want?”
“Me. He wants me in his bed and then to use as a weapon when he needs me.”
“So it’s true, you really are a siren?”
“My great-grandfather was Odysseus and my great-grandmother was Agalope, one of the five sirens. I received my gift through the women of my family. My mother was the last grandchild.”
“But I thought Odysseus tied himself to the mast so as not to be able to heed the call of the sirens.”
“You know a lot of mythology,” Charisma said softly, smiling. “It is said that Agalope saw Odysseus and was instantly smitten with him. She followed the ship, waiting until she found him alone one night on watch. Agalope was a beautiful woman, no matter that she’d been cursed with the body of a bird. That night, she begged her father, the river god Achelous, to grant her the body of a woman, if only for a single night. She spent that night in the arms of Odysseus. She’d given him the gift of her virginity, a powerful gift that he showed proper deference in receiving. He gifted her in return with a child, my grandmother.”