Siren's Call (A Rainshadow Novel)

by Jayne Castle

  “Ella left a note,” Rafe said. “Didn’t you, Ella?”

  “I tried,” Ella said. “But they drugged me and I was going under fast. I was afraid you wouldn’t understand.”

  “There was no note,” Bob insisted. “I would have seen it. She was trying to put on her lipstick when I found her. She didn’t have time to dig out a pen and a piece of paper.”

  “My note was written with lipstick,” Ella said. “A circle within a circle.”

  Bob scowled. “I saw the smears on the counter. I thought you were hallucinating. What the hell was the circle within a circle supposed to mean?”

  “A doughnut,” Rafe said.

  Bob winced. “Shit.”

  Ella gave him her most blinding smile. “Your doughnuts aren’t that bad. Lorelei loves them.”

  Chapter 38

  “Do you think Harding and Bob Luttrell will talk?” Ella asked.

  “They may try to trade some information in a plea-bargain deal but it’s doubtful that they can give the authorities anything that will help us find the real powers-that-be at the top of Vortex. According to Marlowe Jones, the organization is evidently structured in a series of independent cells. If one is exposed it can’t be used to identify the others.”

  “Well, at least Chief Truett gets to take full credit for busting a major black-market operation dealing in Alien tech.” Ella smiled. “I thought Truett looked good on the news this evening. You could hardly tell that he was gloating.”

  Rafe laughed. “Payback. Gotta love it.”

  Ella contemplated the view of the Dead City. A very long day had transitioned into an even longer night. She and Rafe were both too rezzed to sleep so they were sitting on her balcony, having a drink. She was still wearing her purple and pink bridesmaid dress, and Rafe was in his formal attire, although he had removed the jacket and loosened the tie. They had both been too beat to bother changing when they had arrived at her apartment a short time ago.

  It was nearly two o’clock in the morning and the eerie green glow of the ruins enveloped the Old Quarter. The gentle vibe in the atmosphere was oddly soothing.

  She took a sip of wine. It was not her first glass. Earlier they had ordered in pizza from an all-night delivery service. Lorelei had joined them for the repast and then, with a cheery chortle, had vanished over the edge of the balcony, disappearing into the night with her wedding veil.

  The Crystal City Police Department, with a nod to the Guild, was taking full credit for the rescue and the arrests. The assumption made by the police was that the suspects had hoped to get a lot of money out of Rafe Coppersmith by kidnapping his current lover. Rafe and Ella had made no attempt to contradict that conclusion.

  There had been no mention in the media of the legendary city of ice and fog.

  “I hate to think that the power brokers at the top of Vortex are going to get away with murder,” Ella said. “Literally.”

  “I’m sure the people pulling the strings inside Vortex consider themselves safe, at least for now.” Rafe paused. “But if they’re smart—and all indications point that way—they may be a little nervous.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Coppersmith Security and Arcane now have Vortex on their psi-dar. So does the Crystal City Guild and the FBPI. That’s bound to make at least a few people inside Vortex a tad uneasy.”

  “Hmm.” Ella swirled the wine gently in her glass. “They’ll probably lie low for a while and hope everyone involved forgets about the name Vortex.”

  “Probably.” Rafe drank some more beer and lowered the bottle. He studied the glowing ruins. “It was a hell of a shock, you know.”

  “Realizing that Vortex had grabbed me? Yeah, well, it was a shock getting grabbed so easily, let me tell you. If that kind of thing keeps happening at weddings, my career as a bridesmaid may be in trouble.”

  Rafe was oblivious to her small attempt at humor. “I should have seen it coming,” he said. “Should have realized they might use you to get to me. Should have made sure that you were never alone. If I had been more willing to accept the nature of my new talent, I could have done a better job of protecting you. But I kept fighting the dreams.”

  “Oh, for pity’s sake, your logic is ridiculous.” She waved one hand in a grand dismissal of everything he had just said. “I wasn’t alone when they slipped that drug into my champagne. I was surrounded by a bunch of bridesmaids and the bride. There was no way to protect me, so stop blaming yourself. What mattered was that you figured out that it was Bob Luttrell who grabbed me and then you found me. That was brilliant.”

  “You were the brilliant one. You left a message.”

  “I was feeling very woozy by then. I didn’t dare try to write Bob’s name even if I could have managed all the letters, which is doubtful, because the room was spinning. He would have noticed and wiped away the lipstick. So I went with the doughnut connection but I wasn’t sure if you would understand.” She smiled. “But you did. One thing I’ve been wondering about. How did you come to realize that Special Agent Harding was involved?”

  Rafe watched her from the shadows of the lounger. There was a little heat in his eyes. “I used my talent—my new talent.”

  “No kidding.” She was pleased. “You deliberately opened your talent?”

  “Figured I had nothing left to lose. You were right. Once I stopped fighting the waking dream and went into it with conscious awareness, I was suddenly in control. A lot of little things that I should have been paying attention to all along suddenly fell into place.”

  “That is so high-rez, as the kids say.” She took another sip of wine. “So, what little things came together for you?”

  “Stuff that had been there all along. For example, I went to see him right after I hired you. I’m sure that Bob Luttrell had already sent word that I was in Crystal City, but when I stopped by Harding’s office I added the helpful information that I was going to that reception with you. Harding must have scrambled to put that first kidnapping operation together, but he had Vortex resources to draw on. In hindsight it was obvious that he was the only one who could have pulled off the attempt on such short notice.”

  “Was there anything else about Harding that made you think he couldn’t be trusted?”

  “A couple of small things,” Rafe said. “Those two Alien weapons he confiscated from Vickary’s operation disappeared. When I asked him what had happened to them, he told me they were in the FBPI lab. But the FBPI usually calls in Coppersmith when it wants to evaluate Alien tech. I checked with Dad earlier today. Coppersmith never got the call. Also, those two men that Slade escorted to Thursday Harbor and put into FBPI custody have disappeared.”

  “What? When did you find out about that little snafu?”

  Rafe winced. “This afternoon, just before the wedding. I didn’t want to ruin the mood. I was going to tell you after the reception.”

  “Hah. How did you discover they went missing?”

  “Earlier this afternoon I called Harding to ask him for a status update on the Vortex investigation. I wanted to know what else he had learned from the two men. He said he had sent them to headquarters for further debriefing. But that didn’t sound like Harding.”

  “Of course it didn’t,” Ella said. “He’s a glory-hound. He wouldn’t hand off a high-profile case unless he had absolutely no alternative.”

  “I’ve worked with him often enough to know that’s true. So when he told me that the pair had been transported to FBPI headquarters, it bothered me.”

  “Your new talent in action, I’ll bet.”

  “Whatever. Anyhow, none of it was proof that Harding was involved, but I decided not to take any chances when I went after you.”

  “So you brought in your own backup team.” Ella hoisted her glass. “Good thinking.”

  “If Harding had been a good guy there would have been no harm done. But if it turned out he was Vortex, I knew Chief Truett would be thrilled to be able to take him down. But the cops couldn’t hand
le the catacombs alone. They needed a Guild team. I made one more phone call to Marlowe Jones of Jones and Jones. She assured me that Fontana was solid.”

  “So you put the whole rescue operation into place in less than an hour?”

  “That was all the time I had.”

  “Wow.” She smiled. “No wonder your father sent you out to shoot trouble. You’re good.”

  “Thanks. But troubleshooting is not a full-time job, and I’m not going to be able to go back to my old line. My talent for resonating with hot rocks and Alien tech is definitely gone.”

  “I keep telling you, you’ve got a new talent. It’s just different, that’s all.”

  “A lot of people would call my hallucinations a sign of serious instability brought on by trauma to the para-senses.”

  “Don’t expect any sympathy from me,” Ella said. “My talent terrifies people, remember? Bob was sure that I was a Siren. That’s why he gave me that powerful suppressor drug. And Harding probably put me on the FBPI watch list.”

  “I doubt it.”

  “You’re the one who said he was suspicious of me.”

  “He was. But I think it’s very likely that he kept his suspicions to himself,” Rafe said.

  “Why?”

  “For one thing, he was always very secretive about information. He liked to keep secrets close in case he found a way to use them.”

  “Well, he’ll probably blab now. His suspicions will hit the media. I’ll lose my clients and have to shut down the Knightsbridge Dream Institute.”

  “Don’t worry.” Rafe’s mouth twitched at the corner. “First off, very few people will believe anything Harding says now because he’s an FBPI agent who went rogue. His credibility is zero. Second, theoretically, your kind of talent doesn’t exist. And as for the few who might believe Harding’s story—”

  “What about them?”

  Rafe smiled slowly. “They’ll be stuck in the fringe world of conspiracy-ville because it’s obvious that you and I are sleeping together and that I’m still alive.”

  “Oh.” She pondered that for a moment. “But maybe they will assume that’s a temporary state of affairs.”

  “Not if we get married.”

  She felt as if the balcony had given way and she was suspended in midair.

  “What?” she whispered.

  “You heard me. If we get married everyone will assume that the Coppersmith clan has concluded you’re not a threat. You’ll have instant credibility.”

  “Gosh. Thanks. But marriage is a rather extreme way to protect my professional reputation.”

  “Think about it.”

  She glared at him. “Are you seriously proposing?”

  Rafe drank some beer and lowered the bottle. “Yes, I am. Like I said, think about it.”

  “Maybe you’ve had one too many beers.”

  “Don’t think so. Say, how are you feeling?”

  “You’re changing the subject.”

  “The other topic didn’t seem to be going anywhere.”

  “I’m feeling peachy-keen,” she said through set teeth. “My talent has recovered. And since we’re changing the subject, here’s a new one for you—the Ghost City.”

  Rafe sat quietly for a time, contemplating the view.

  “You think I should take a team back to the ruins and try to open the portal, don’t you?” he said.

  “What I think,” she said very carefully, “is that if Coppersmith Mining doesn’t take charge of the city of ice and fog, other people, including Vortex, are going to keep looking for it and there will be more murders. You know how it is with legends. Sooner or later someone will open that portal.”

  “You sound like my dad. I saw enough of the Ghost City to know that it is a very dangerous place, Ella. For once, the DND crowd might be right. The city may be one Alien secret that should remain a secret, at least for now.”

  “Wonderland and the Preserve and the Rainforest are all dangerous places. Heck, the catacombs are dangerous. Since when has danger ever stopped people from investigating secrets? Humans seem to be on an endless quest. Probably something in our DNA.”

  “I don’t have a clue what Coppersmith would be facing in the city of ice and fog, assuming the company can even find the kind of talent that can access the place. Not everyone can go through that portal and come back out safely.”

  “That isn’t going to stop people from searching for it. Better that Coppersmith takes control than Vortex.”

  Rafe took another swig of his beer.

  “I’ll think about it,” he said.

  “Okay.”

  “You ready to sleep yet?”

  “No. You?”

  “No.” Rafe set aside his empty beer bottle. “Still pretty rezzed.”

  “Me, too.”

  “I can think of one way we could take the edge off.”

  She rested her head on the back of the lounger and looked at him. “You’re talking about us having sex?”

  “The thought did occur to me.”

  “To take the edge off.”

  “Sex can be very relaxing.”

  She drank the last of her wine and put down her glass. “You and I have never had relaxing sex.”

  “I know. We should probably try it sometime. But tonight I’m fine with our regular sex.”

  She concentrated on the radiant spires of the Dead City. “I think something happens to our auras when we have sex, Rafe. It’s kind of weird.”

  “But in a good way.” He paused. “At least as far as I’m concerned. Is this where you tell me that it’s not good for you?”

  “It’s . . . very good. Maybe too good. I’m not sure what to think. I’m a Siren. We aren’t supposed to be able to have the kind of sex that you and I have had.”

  “Know what I think?”

  “What?”

  He swung his legs over the side of the lounger, got to his feet, and scooped her up in his arms. “I think you’re running scared.”

  “That’s not it.”

  But it felt good to be held like this, she thought. Better than good—thrilling.

  “Sure it is.” He carried her through the open slider and headed for the bedroom. “It’s kind of funny when you think about it. Here you are, a powerful Siren who can put a man into a coma or kill a dinosaur with her talent, and you’re scared to have sex with me.”

  “That’s not how it is.”

  But he was carrying her down the short hallway into the darkened bedroom and she knew there was no stopping him. She did not want to stop him. This was the one man she could be herself with, and that was a gift she had never expected to receive.

  “That’s exactly how it is.” He stood her on her feet beside the bed, spun her around, and unzipped the back of the bridesmaid gown. “If there’s one thing I’ve learned from you, it’s that you have to confront your nightmares.”

  “That’s ridiculous.” The dress fell to the rug around her bare feet. She kicked it aside and turned to face him. “Having sex with you isn’t a nightmare.”

  He winced. “Wow. You really know how to make a man feel like a king.”

  “You’re trying to spin my words.”

  He brushed his mouth against hers. When he raised his head his eyes were hot.

  “What I’m trying to do is get you to shut up,” he said. “At least until it’s time for you to sing.”

  She looked at him, breathless. Her pulse had kicked up and she was feeling pleasantly buzzed. She decided not to do any more talking for a while.

  Rafe reached down and hauled the blanket and sheet to the foot of the bed. He unfastened her dainty bra and slid both palms down her sides.

  She shuddered at the power and control in his touch. Excitement sluiced through her, rezzing her talent and—for the moment—pushing aside her concerns about their relationship. He was hers for now, and that was good enough.

  His fingers slipped under the scrap of lace around her hips. The panties dropped to the floor. He slid one hand between he
r legs, cupping her gently, just enough to make her wet.

  She sighed and leaned into him.

  He lifted her up and dropped her somewhat unceremoniously onto the bed, then sat down beside her and pried off his shoes. His shirt and trousers and briefs followed. He was fully, heavily aroused.

  In the next moment he was on top of her, pinning her to the bed with his weight. He caged her with his arms and kissed her with slow, drugging power.

  “You’re going to sing for me again tonight, Ella,” he whispered against her throat. “I want to hear you sing. I need to hear you sing.”

  She caught his face between her palms.

  “Rafe,” she whispered.

  “Are you going to start talking again?” he asked warily.

  “I want you to know that I love singing to you,” she said, her throat tight with the intensity of her emotion. “I love you.”

  He went very still above her.

  “Ella,” he said finally. “Ella, I love you. I have since the moment I met you.”

  She smiled. “I doubt that, but it’s very nice to hear.”

  “It’s the truth. That’s how it is for a Coppersmith man. Like a kick in the gut.”

  “Okay, that’s not exactly the most romantic thing you could have said, but under the circumstances, I’m prepared to run with it.”

  “It’s the truth. You want to know what kind of impression you made on me?”

  “Of course.” She smiled. “I want to hear every single detail.”

  “I started dreaming about you right after the explosion in the ruins, when the fever first hit me.”

  That stopped her. “You dreamed about me?”

  “There were times when everyone, including me, was afraid that if the fever didn’t kill me I would end up going mad. When things got really bad you would come to me in my dreams and you would sing me back to the surface.”

  “Oh, Rafe.” She blinked the tears out of her eyes. “You survived because you’re strong. But I have to say that what you just said is a heck of a lot more romantic than the kick-in-the-gut thing.”

  “It’s all true. You were the one who got me through the nightmares and the cold sweats.” He touched the edge of her lips with one finger. “Did you think about me during those three months?”