by S. J. Harper
Forsaken
S. J. Harper
Join Agents Emma Monroe and Zack Armstrong.
She protected him. He loved her.
They can trust one another with their lives, but what about their hearts?
Special Agent Emma Monroe is a Fallen Siren seeking redemption. Thousands of years ago, she was banished from Mount Olympus by Zeus and cursed by Demeter for failing to prevent the kidnapping of Persephone by Hades. Now she’s working for the FBI, seeking salvation while searching for and finding the missing. Her partner, Zack Armstrong, is a werewolf with a grievance of his own.
The former Black Ops sniper who once carried out a string of questionable assignments is atoning for his past. Ironically, Zack’s just discovered an important piece of his past has been magically wiped from his memory—an affair with Emma. It doesn’t matter she used the spell to save his life, that’s something he’ll never know. With trust eroded and love overshadowed by betrayal the only thing holding them together is the job.
When the son of multi-billionaire Roger Maitlan is kidnapped and his babysitter murdered in cold blood, Emma and Zack travel to New York to work the case. They go undercover, infiltrating a playground of private dungeons where those who are rich and powerful can live out fantasies without consequence. What they find is a conspiracy born of a twisted mind and fueled by greed. The clock is ticking. Will Zack and Emma be able to find the missing boy and their way back to one another?
eBooks are not transferable. They cannot be sold, shared or given away as it is an infringement of the copyright of this work.
FORSAKEN
The Fallen Siren Series
Copyright © 2015 S. J. HARPER
ISBN: 978-1-936387-96-0
All Romance eBooks, LLC Palm Harbor, Florida 34684 www.allromanceebooks.com
This is a work of fiction and any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or business establishments, events, or locales is coincidental.
All Rights Are Reserved. No part of this may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever with out written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.
First All Romance eBooks publication: February 2015
PRAISE FOR THE FALLEN SIREN SERIES
“One entertaining and fast-paced read. Best of all? Zack, the wildly sexy werewolf FBI agent! What better crime-fighting partner could a girl have?”
—Jennifer Ashley, New York Times bestselling author of Tiger Magic
“Cursed is the perfect blend of magic, mystery, and romance. Emma and Zack are strong, noble characters who are trying to overcome their dark pasts, and their quests for redemption will make your heart hurt. This is a series you need to read now.”
—Sandy Williams, author of the Shadow Reader series
“A promising new writing collaboration. . . . After delivering a hefty helping of danger and drama, Harper then sets the groundwork for more fast-paced adventures.”
—RT Book Reviews (4 stars)
“Authors Samantha Sommersby and Jeanne C. Stein (the writing team that is S. J. Harper) have created something wonderful with the Fallen Siren series.”
—Wit and Sin
“I love the story, I love the world, I love the concept, and I love the characters.”
—Fangs for the Fantasy
“A good mix of traditional mythology and contemporary UF.”
—Scorching Book Reviews
Dedication
To the readers who stepped into our world and welcomed Emma and Zack into your hearts. We thank you.
Acknowledgments
We want to give special recognition to Aaron, Angie, Mario, Warren and Jeff of the Pearl Street Critique Group. Phil, Jeannette and Steve for being good to Jeanne and one another. Bill, Beverly, and Max for being there day in and day out for Sam. The S.J. Harper street team for believing in us from the get-go and their tireless enthusiasm. Editor Jessica Wade and the Penguin team for their early support of the series. Editor David Kane for his expertise. The media relations department of the San Diego Police Department, New York Police Department, and the FBI’s office of public affairs for answering all of our questions. Any mistakes within this work are our own.
Siren
noun
1. One of three sisters ejected from Mount Olympus by Zeus and cursed by Demeter for failing to prevent Hades from kidnapping Persephone.
2. An immortal goddess bound to earth who, in search of her own salvation, saves others from peril.
3. A beautiful and powerful seductress, capable of infiltrating the minds of others in order to extract truth or exert influence.
Chapter One
Sunday, September 8
Robby Maitlan has been missing for 34 hours.
I’ve learned that it can take a lifetime to mend a broken heart. Right here, right now, I’m ready to stop suffering this one. To stop suffering altogether. I glance over at Zack who is sound asleep. He didn’t get any rest Friday night, thanks to Demeter. He was too preoccupied with feeling betrayed, manipulated, played the fool. Just as Demeter intended. Fuck Demeter. Fuck the world. I’m not giving up. I’m not giving in. I have a role to play, a duty to perform, a failure to make up for. It’s what I do, who I am.
A Siren is a Siren. A sexual creature, born of Gaia. I’m one of three, cursed by Demeter thousands of years ago for failing to protect Persephone. It’s for this I atone, for this I pay. It’s the reason I work for the FBI and search for the missing. It’s the reason I avoid love at all costs. Finding the missing brings me closer to redemption.
Finding love? I swallow hard. That always ends in ruin and death. Once again, my gaze drifts to my partner, Zack, a dark, rugged werewolf who was formerly, and quite secretly, a badass black ops assassin. Also, formerly, my lover. We met during a case in Charleston about a year and a half ago. The attraction was instant, giving into it seemingly safe. The assignment was to be temporary after all. He was to go his way. I was to go mine. There was to be no contact between us. And there wasn’t until he transferred to San Diego, to my unit. Until he became my partner both in and out of bed. Until we fell in love and I made the only choice I could. I took his memories to save his life.
“Can I get you anything else?” the flight attendant asks quietly.
I hand her my empty cup and shake my head.
She moves on down the aisle.
I transfer the case file I’ve been perusing onto the seat between Zack and me along with my laptop and cell phone. I’ve read the dossier on real estate mogul and philanthropist Roger Maitlan a half-dozen times along with what little is known about the kidnapping of his seven-year-old son, Robby. Maitlan’s missing child is the reason we’re on our way to the Big Apple. The reason our boss, Jimmy Johnson, denied the request Zack made for transfer just yesterday morning.
I notice the light above the forward lavatory has turned from red to green. I consider waking Zack for a fraction of a second before deciding against. I’m agile, limber, and frankly not looking forward to once again facing his ire. I quietly unbuckle, lift up the arm separating the window and middle seats, then slide over. I stand in so much as I can, considering the outcropping of overhead bins, and turn to face him. Left hand on the middle seat, I lift my right leg up and over his. He doesn’t flinch. There’s no alteration in his breathing. My toe touches the ground, and I begin to shift my weight to the foot that’s now firmly planted in the aisle. His hand brushes my thigh, his eyes open.
He sits up straighter in his chair. “You could have woken me and asked me to move.” His tone is irritable, bordering on accusing.
I avoid eye contact, avoid his touch. “Let’s pretend I did,” I say before slipping
out of the row and making my way toward the front of the plane. I feel his eyes on me. Never did I imagine viewing an airplane lavatory as a refuge. I take care of the most immediate needs first, then I wash my hands. When I reach for the paper towels, I catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror. I have to admit, I look a little worse for wear. Considering what I’ve been through in the past twenty-four hours, that shouldn’t come as a surprise.
This time yesterday Zack and I were staging the rescue of ten missing girls, all young, blonde virgins—pawns in a power play between two ruling vampire factions. The losing side led by the now dead Southern vampire King, Philippe Lamont. The winner? Kallistos Kouros. My betrayer, my savior, and now the Sovereign of both the West and the South. Kallistos and I had been sharing a bed for the better part of six months. The no-strings-attached relationship worked for us both—the vampire who made no demands, except for the most exquisite sexual ones, and the Siren who could fulfill those demands without sacrificing her heart. Only in the end my heart did suffer as I watched him take the lives of humans to ensure his position, grow his kingdom, and increase his power. I’d like to condemn him, but I can’t. Kallistos told me what to expect of him more times than I could count. And I have to admit he’s delivered supremely on both his promise to be there when needed and to disappoint. If he hadn’t healed me two nights ago, I’d be gone. Not dead, Demeter would never have allowed that, forced to move on to another life. Problem is, I’m not done with this one.
I lean closer to the mirror and study my appearance, seeking assurance that the two spells I pay my best friend Liz for are still firmly in place. The first, a reverse glamour that hides my true appearance and furnishes me with the wholesome, plain-Jane facade I’ve become so accustomed to seeing. The second, a dampening spell that diminishes both my innate powers of seduction and the nifty little side effect that makes me the most reliable lie detector ever. I realize that Liz, who is not only the baddest witch this side of the Mississippi, but my touchstone when it comes to matters of the heart, doesn’t know what happened in the last couple days between Kallistos and me, between Zack and me, between Demeter and me—that I’m on my way to New York, that everything is different, my life changed.
I make a half-hearted effort to smooth down my hair, which is long, dark, and pulled back into a simple ponytail. I can’t help noticing that my skin, normally fair and unblemished, is paler than usual. Not because of a lack of makeup. I never wear makeup. No mascara. No lip-gloss. Nothing. I reach up and pinch my cheeks. It doesn’t help. The inside of my lower eyelid contains only the barest hint of pink. I’m anemic. I’ve lost too much blood. Not during the mission. Though there was plenty of blood shed last night, none of it was mine. My near death experience came this morning at the hand of my favorite vindictive goddess, Demeter. After she betrayed me. After Zack discovered my betrayal of him.
Zack.
The only innocent in this mess.
I may not want to face his wrath, have to endure his judgment, but I deserve it. I’ve wronged him and I can’t make it right, not if I want him to live. I stiffen my spine before sliding open the latch to the door. By the time I make my way down the aisle to our row, Zack is standing. The hard expression he’s been wearing all morning has softened. He has my cell phone in his grasp. As I slide into my chair he hands it to me.
“You forgot to switch your cell to airplane mode. A message came in from Kallistos.”
Zack normally refers to the vampire King as His Royal Undead or Tall, Dark, and Pasty. The mere fact that he’s using his name means whatever’s in the message is serious.
While I excel at giving orders, I’m terrible at following them. Despite what you may think, I care, deeply. Your wounds were severe, your continued pain palpable. To fully heal you might need more blood, not to mention a friend. I’m offering, but don’t expect you will accept. I’m calling in the cavalry. Expect to hear from Liz. ~ K
My eyes burn. I set the phone down on the seat between Zack and me, then once again pick up and open the file. The words on the page are a blur. Our connection out of Chicago was cancelled last night due to a storm, and I didn’t get much sleep. Zack reaches over and takes it from me.
“Did he hurt you? Did he punish you because we…” The words are spoken softly, with a tenderness that makes the ache I’m feeling even worse.
Because we made love?
I shake my head. “It wasn’t Kallistos.”
He waits a beat and swallows hard before asking the next question. This time his voice is even lower. “When you passed out, I thought… Did I hurt you?”
“No.” A moment passes. I meet his gaze, force what I know is a shaky smile. “Yes.” I turn to look out the window. “But not in the way you mean. And I will get over it. So will you.”
He leans in close, the anger has returned. “I want my memories back.”
After we saved the girls, Demeter granted me a reprieve. Only it wasn’t a reprieve, not really. It was a set up, a web spun by the most calculating spider of them all, and I fell right into it. Giving myself to Zack, opening up fully, letting him see the real me. Believing it could last when it couldn’t. Not when my Siren scent was destined to link back to evidence Zack had that we’d been lovers before and that magic had been used on him to erase those memories.
I watch the clouds pass by. My voice sounds as distant as the land far below. “That won’t change anything.”
“It would restore a measure of trust between us.”
How I wish that were true. I remind myself why I avoided the truth and used the spell to begin with. Zack would never be satisfied with the kind of relationship Kallistos and I had. He deserves more. He would want more and he’d fight for it. He’d fight against a Goddess. He’d fight, he’d lose, and he’d die.
It’s happened before.
I say what’s true, “It would only leave you with more questions.”
“Questions you won’t answer.”
“Can’t answer,” I counter.
“Bullshit. You know, if your goal is to keep me pissed off, I’d say your work here is done.”
“It’s not done. You can trust me.”
“Trust you to do what?”
“To keep you safe,” the words are flung at him in a hiss. I quickly add, “To do my job.”
“To keep me safe.” Zack grows still, quiet. For a long while, he says nothing. Then, “Kallistos didn’t punish you, but someone did.” He sighs. Shakes his head. “I suppose it doesn’t matter. Whatever rules were broken, whatever dangers or threats remain. The mess that’s been made is as much my fault as yours. Maybe more my fault. I was foolish enough to believe that I’d found a partner. That maybe, just maybe, I could escape the past, have a future.”
For as long as I’ve known him, Zack has always said the word partner like it really means something. For the first time, I realize how much significance the word really holds for him, how much he’s wanted a partner in work, in bed, in love, in life. I let my head fall back against the headrest. I’m emotionally and physically exhausted. “Take it from me, the past is inescapable. The future a place of infinite unknowns.”
“What does that leave us with, Emma?” Zack asks.
“What does that leave us with?” I repeat, letting the question roll around in my head even though I already know the answer. I nod at the folder he’s holding in his hand. “That. The job. You and I, together, will find that boy.” I say it with conviction then add, “Until we do, the rest gets pushed aside.”
Zack opens the file and picks up the five by seven photo of a smiling Robby Maitlan in a baseball uniform. “Until we find him,” he agrees. “Eye on the ball.”
“Eye on the ball,” I repeat, grateful to be back on solid ground. Grateful to be doing what I do best: finding the missing.
Zack hands me the photo. “The kid looks just like his dad.”
Just a few weeks ago Roger Maitlan’s photo was on the cover of some magazine at the grocery store’s checkout.
I try to hand the photo back. Zack doesn’t notice. He seems to be preoccupied with a note in the file telling us we’re to be met at the airport in New York by an agent from one of the FBI’s Child Abduction Rapid Deployment Teams. When Zack and I first met, he was assigned to one of the CARD teams himself.
“You know her?” I ask.
He shakes his head. “I know of her,” he replies. “I was assigned to the Southeast team. She’s in the Northeast division. We never actually worked a case together but we’ve gone to some of the same training classes, attended some of the same debriefings.”
The announcement overhead tells us to put our tray tables up and return our seatbacks to an upright position. I hear the landing gear come down. The ground below is getting closer. Though I know the opposite is true, the further we descend, the faster we seem to be moving. I grow quiet, contemplative.
“You miss it,” Zack says.
“What?”
“Flying.”
He’s right. It doesn’t matter that it’s been scores of centuries since Demeter stripped me of my wings, leaving only a tattoo in their place. I miss the sensation as much today as I did the day I lost the ability to soar on my own. I close my eyes, absorb the rush of the speed, imagine the feel of the wind, and brace for landing.
Chapter Two
We’re gathering our things together to deplane. “So you’ll know her by sight?”
“Oh, yeah.”
The way he says it makes me curious, but the line is moving and I don’t have time to follow up. When we exit the gangway, Zack is immediately swallowed up by the crowd at the gate. Fortunately, his height provides me with an advantage and I’m able to follow past the cramped rows of chairs, kiosks filled with quick meals to go, and hundreds of weary travelers. Welcome to La Guardia. Finally, we spill out into the baggage area. Since we both carried on there’s nothing there for us to collect, only our ride. It takes Zack just a second or two to spot her.