Call of the Siren (Demons of the Infernum) (Entangled Edge)

by Rosalie Lario

  Table of Contents

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Acknowledgments

  About the Author

  Discover the Demons of Infernum series by Rosalie Lario Blood of the Demon

  Mark of the Sylph

  Touch of the Angel

  Heart of the Incubus

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  When darkness threatens… only love will bring them light.

  Siren-demon hybrid bounty hunter Dagan Meyers swore he’d never settle down. His older brothers might’ve adjusted well to family life, but tying himself to one woman is so not Dagan’s bag. Until he meets the gorgeous angel Lina, his brother Ronin’s long-lost adopted sister, and can’t think of being with anybody BUT her. Too bad Ronin’s well aware of Dagan’s party-boy lifestyle and won’t let him anywhere near his seemingly angelic baby sister.

  Living the life of a mercenary has been perfect for Lina, who is still getting over abandonment issues that began when she was orphaned as a child. The last thing she wants is to develop feelings for the smooth-talking man she knows will eventually leave her. But as the whole group battles a growing darkness—a powerful dark fae who’s harnessed untold power—Dagan and Lina find that love may be their greatest weapon against the evil that threatens to destroy them all.

  Call of the Siren

  A Demons of Infernum novel

  Rosalie Lario

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is coincidental.

  Copyright © 2014 by Rosalie Lario. All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce, distribute, or transmit in any form or by any means. For information regarding subsidiary rights, please contact the Publisher.

  Entangled Publishing, LLC

  2614 South Timberline Road

  Suite 109

  Fort Collins, CO 80525

  Visit our website at www.entangledpublishing.com.

  Edited by Tori Spence and Heather Howland

  Cover design by Heather Howland

  ISBN 978-1-62266-052-0

  Manufactured in the United States of America

  First Edition April 2014

  This book is dedicated to the fans who’ve stuck with me throughout this entire series. You guys seriously rock. If you haven’t already, may each of you find your very own hero or heroine to keep you blazing hot at night.

  Chapter One

  Romania, April

  Oftentimes the greatest of men, the biggest visionaries, were the most misunderstood. They were painted as villains, feared and reviled, when in fact they were heroes. It was this simple truth that forced Belpheg to push forward when his deteriorating body longed to quit. Nothing mattered but his mission. Once it was complete, the worlds as everyone knew them would be changed. And he would again be whole.

  But first he had to put his plan into place. He needed to gather the men who would aid in his objective. Which meant breaking one of them out of the most secure prison in all the dimensions.

  No small feat, but he had a secret weapon.

  Me.

  Belpheg would normally never attempt what he was about to do in the light of day, but it mattered little considering where they were: a narrow patch of land nestled deep in the forest off the Appalachian Trail. Even if a random hiker had stumbled into this area, they would never see the area where Belpheg stood, because it was hidden by a powerful glamour that only Otherworlders could see. All interdimensional portals were masked this way, and this one was no exception, despite the fact that it had been created in secret by a disgruntled Council employee. Rumors of such a portal abounded in New York City, but its location was a well-kept secret.

  How lucky for him that one of his now-deceased lackeys, Leviathos, had discovered its location.

  The hidden portal was how he’d made the move from his dimension to Earth just a few weeks ago. He missed his home dimension of Faelan, but this godforsaken world held the eleven men he’d collected for his centering ritual, along with the handful of other minions he’d hired. Besides, the beauty of the expansive Neo-Renaissance castle he’d purchased in the Carpathian Mountains of Romania did much to ease the pain of leaving behind his old, familiar world.

  “Ready?” he asked the hubrin demon he’d brought on to assist him.

  The demon nodded. “Yes.”

  When Belpheg stepped into the portal, his legs gave an unexpected shake. Gritting his teeth, he rode out the temporary wave of weakness. His damn body was growing weaker by the moment, too feeble to contain his impressive powers. Which was why he needed to act now.

  Steeling his breath, he waited for his assistant to enter the portal before speaking the coordinates for the Council headquarters, located between planes. Since the Council controlled all interdimensional travel, entry into its headquarters was only supposed to be accomplished by Council permission. Lucky for him he had an alternate method.

  The only problem was that the Council was now aware of the portal’s existence, if not its location. Leviathos had used it several months ago to steal the Book of the Dead, an ancient book containing a spell to create a zombie army. Then the stupid idiot had gotten himself killed. The book had been destroyed, but ever since then, the Council kept a contingent of guards stationed in front of the portal leading into the headquarters…which made what he was about to do a little bit trickier.

  Thank goodness he had a little help from the inside. Men were all too easy to bribe these days.

  Belpheg pulled a golden orb about the size of a baseball out of one of the pockets of his robe and held it out to his assistant. “Remember to do as I instructed.”

  “Yes, Belpheg.” His assistant’s arm shook as he clutched the orb loosely in his hand.

  “Try not to get yourself killed.” The portal shimmered and the shift in pressure momentarily sucked the air from their lungs. Belpheg forced his traitorous body to stand firm. He could collapse once he’d accomplished his mission.

  A second later, they landed at the entrance to the headquarters, a four-story stone fortress plunked onto a floating piece of reddish rock in an otherwise dark, landless world.

  The guards posted in front of the portal snapped to attention with startled looks on their faces. Belpheg counted ten…no, twelve of them.

  The guards lifted their weapons—high-powered rifles that shot ribbons of energy instead of bullets. Smart move on the Council’s part. Bullets wouldn’t necessarily kill an Otherworlder, but if the energy their weapons emitted hit him, it would block his abilities long enough for them to take him
down.

  “Stop right there,” one of the guards shouted. That was all the warning Belpheg got before the guards shot their weapons.

  Belpheg lifted his hand, and an answering stream of power poured from his fingers. It collided with the energy from the weapons, neutralizing it.

  “What the fuck?” one of the guards said. His brows furrowed, and he briefly lowered his weapon to examine it before lifting it for another round. Belpheg hit him with a second shot of energy, sending him tumbling off the floating piece of rock.

  One down.

  Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted one of the guards reaching for a communication device holstered at his side, but before he could stop him from using it, several of the other men discharged their weapons. He blocked the rays, but could do nothing to stop the sound of the alarm warning everyone inside the building of his attack.

  Damn.

  But then, he’d expected nothing less.

  “Get ready,” he snapped at his assistant. With a flick of his fingers, he shot lightning bolts toward two of the guards. They fell to the ground, their corpses twitching and smoking. Belpheg grinned and pointed his fingers at the remaining guards, but then his heart seized without warning. He lowered his hand to his chest with a gasp, cursing his weak, treacherous body.

  “Belpheg?” His assistant shifted edgily beside him. “They’re about to shoot again.”

  He must keep the end goal in mind. Once he was able to complete the circle, he would never again have to worry about his body giving out on him. But first, he needed to get inside. Now.

  “Use it.”

  His assistant nodded and pointed the orb in his hand toward the remaining guards. He squeezed, and a bright ray of light blanketed the space between them and the other men, freezing the guards in place.

  The clenching of Belpheg’s heart subsided, and he straightened to admire his handiwork. He’d been slowly bleeding his energy into orbs for the past month. Unlike his body, the orbs wouldn’t unexpectedly give out. Unfortunately, their power was limited, and he’d only been able to create two of them in the time he’d had. They had ten minutes to get in and out.

  “Hold them off.” Belpheg set the stopwatch strapped to his wrist.

  He skirted around the paralyzing light and climbed the stone steps leading into the headquarters. The entrance had been barred with a force field that would have been deadly for anyone else. Once again, the Council had underestimated him. He slashed the air with his trembling hand, and the resultant energy tumbled the force field down. When he stepped inside the building, it was just in time to see another group of guards running toward him from the long corridor directly ahead.

  “Freeze.” The lead guard stopped to point his weapon at Belpheg’s heart.

  “No, you freeze.” Belpheg reached into his pocket and removed the second orb, squeezing to activate its power. Immediately, the ray of energy shot out toward the men, rendering them motionless.

  According to his spy, the Council prison was located on the ground level, down the corridor to the left. Belpheg directed the orb’s beam toward the other side of the building, ensuring that no one would interrupt him, and lowered it to the ground. He glanced at his watch.

  Less than eight minutes left.

  He wasted no time in striding down the long corridor and came to a stop right before a thick, metal door at the end. Normally, the prison entrance was manned by several guards, but it seemed they’d abandoned their post to join the others who were now frozen in place at the front of the building.

  Most excellent.

  He slid the heavy bolt on the door. It opened to reveal another hallway, but this one was dark and dank—clearly setting the mood for the miserable souls locked inside. The thought that it might have once been him locked in here nearly made him shiver…but no, the Council had chosen to decimate his people rather than imprison them. That was much worse, wasn’t it?

  Thick bars were set along either side of the corridor. Belpheg started forward.

  A bone-thin hand crept through one set of bars. “Help me,” a weak voice said.

  Belpheg peered inside the tiny cell, but it wasn’t the man he sought. Shrugging, he moved along. He passed five more cells before coming to one where a thin, wasted man sat on the only piece of furniture, a tiny cot. Less than a foot from his bed was a toilet with no lid.

  He shuddered, about to move on, when he realized the man’s profile was familiar. He’d almost missed it from the hunched set of the man’s back and the fact that his gaze was directed toward the ground.

  “Mammon.”

  When the man’s gaze shot toward him, Belpheg realized with a start that he was right. By the gods, how Mammon had aged. Even though he’d been a grown man already when he’d saved Belpheg’s life, somehow Belpheg had never thought of him as being old. Avaritia demons aged slowly and gracefully. But the time in prison had clearly been hard on Mammon. He looked wrung-out and every bit the old man he was.

  Mammon’s expression was wary, but then recognition lit his eyes. Mammon slowly stood and shuffled toward the bars. “Belpheg—is that you?”

  “Yes.” Maybe he should simply leave the demon here. He didn’t look like he would be capable of handling the task Belpheg had in mind for him.

  But then Mammon’s hands tightened on the bars, and his back straightened, displaying a glimmer of the pride he’d once shown.

  Hmm…perhaps there was fire left in him still.

  “What are you doing here?” Mammon asked.

  The stopwatch beeped, reminding Belpheg that he had less than five minutes to get back to the portal, or risk being forced to take on the Council’s entire group of guards in his increasingly weakening form.

  “You saved my life once.”

  “Yes,” Mammon said, his voice cautiously hopeful.

  Belpheg grinned. “I’m here to return the favor.”

  Chapter Two

  New York City, Early June

  Of the few things that Dagan did exceptionally well, sex was on the top of the list, and it was by far his favorite. The heart-pumping excitement of being with a new woman; the adrenaline rush of uncovering those silky bits of flesh normally hidden by her clothes; the musky scent of their mutual arousal filling the air…nothing beat it. Whenever he was with a woman, the never-ending symphony of songs that filled his head quieted down. But sometimes his overwhelming need to get it on was downright inappropriate.

  Like now.

  He was supposed to be working. His eldest brother Keegan had sent him to Opiate in an effort to track down information on the dark fae the Elden Council searched for. The dark fae he and his brothers might have apprehended last month if they’d done what the Council had ordered them to. Instead, they had chosen to disregard its commands in order to save the woman his brother Ronin loved. In so doing, they’d pissed the Council off, big-time. In other words, they’d seriously screwed up—no matter how pure their intentions.

  So now, their only option was to fix things by finding the dark fae before the Council got fed up and deported them back to their hellish home world of Infernum. That was what had led Dagan to Opiate tonight, but what had landed him in this section of the Otherworldly club was another thing entirely—his stupid dick.

  You’re such a dumb shit.

  “What?” the chick plastered to his body asked.

  Had he said those words aloud?

  “Nothing.”

  The woman smiled and pushed him back against the wall. Her hair was styled into a spiked pixie cut that accentuated the slight point at the top of her ears. Even with her glamour that made her passable as human, it was obvious to him that she was Elven. When he’d wandered into Opiate, he’d immediately noticed her sitting alone at the bar. She’d been wearing a tiny black tank top and low-slung jeans that showed off a miniscule thong, practically an open invitation for male company. Somehow, he’d ended up joining her. And less than an hour later they’d wound up in the back—which was separated from the rest
of the club by a filmy curtain—and she had her top bunched up around her armpits.

  No mincing words: people came back here to fuck. Dagan had been here himself on more than one occasion. But he was supposed to be asking questions tonight. Rumor had it a few of the patrons who frequented this very club were now in the dark fae’s employment. Dagan’s mission was to find out what the hell he was planning to do with them.

  So why are you back here?

  “Everything okay, baby?” she murmured.

  The woman—what the hell was her name again?—nuzzled his neck while her hand slid inside his unbuttoned jeans and closed around him.

  No, everything wasn’t okay. He was doing it again, resorting to sex whenever he got stressed out about something in his life. Lately there’d only been more and more to worry over. But sex wasn’t the answer. They all needed to focus on repairing the strain with the Council. He couldn’t even begin to imagine how pissed his brothers would be if they saw what he was doing here instead.

  So why are you screwing up again?

  Something cold and angry slithered around in Dagan’s chest like a poisonous serpent poised to strike, and strains of a hard, bitter song pounded his head. Even though his body was on board at the thought of getting it on with this virtual stranger, as evidenced by the hard-on she caressed, he’d never felt so empty inside. Just more confirmation that he was seriously fucked in the head.

  What good was sex if you couldn’t even enjoy it?

  The woman pulled back to throw him a vaguely disgusted look. Her bare breasts glimmered in the dim blue lighting of the club, and his cock jumped at the jiggling her movement sparked. “Are you down or not? ’Cause I can’t tell.”

  Neither could he, and that wasn’t fair to her. Dagan opened his mouth to tell her…what, that he’d changed his mind? He didn’t even know.

  Before he could figure it out, hair spun the color of moonlight caught his eye from beyond the transparent veil separating this section from the rest of the club. He jerked his gaze across the room, and his stomach knotted at the confirmation that the hair belonged to who he thought it did.