by Ann Gimpel
Boris and Ted’s kiss deepened. They clung to each other as green, blue, and black light washed over them. At least the men’s passion was buying all of them time. The longer they stood at the brink of the opening, the more convinced Recco became they couldn’t go inside. If they did, the alien magic would swallow them whole.
And they’d never, never leave.
Daide still gripped him, so he slithered closer and positioned his mouth over his friend’s ear. “We can’t go inside.”
“Tell me something I don’t know,” Daide mouthed back.
Juan stepped next to Recco’s other side. “We can’t—” he began.
“We know,” Daide said.
The lights flashing around the hole in the ice brightened until Recco couldn’t look directly at them anymore. Ted and Boris were still kissing, grinding their bodies together. Breath rose around them, turning the air steamy.
Amid shimmery flashes, two women emerged from the ice. Naked. Perfect, with high, full breasts. Silver hair shot with gold fell to their feet. When Recco looked closer, he saw the bottom half of their bodies was avian, covered with glittery, jewel-toned feathers. Silver eyes regarded the men, and magic flowed from long, tapering fingers, winding around Ted and Boris.
Juan crossed himself. “Holy fuck. You’d think nothing would surprise me after ten years as a Vampire, but those are Sirens. Anyone who’s ever gone to sea knows about them.”
“Hell,” Daide muttered. “Anyone who’s read the classics does too.”
“What are they doing here?” Recco stared at the duo. “I thought they lived in the Mediterranean.”
“Who knows?” Juan replied. “Maybe the Cataclysm displaced them too.”
“It didn’t displace their destructive nature.” Recco swallowed back distaste.
A third woman joined the other two. She held a golden lyre set with gemstones between her hands, plucking the strings. Each note developed a life of its own, and Recco felt himself sinking back into the pit where nothing mattered except ensuring the music never stopped.
“Welcome.” The third Siren’s word formed a harmonic with her music.
“Yes. Welcome,” the other two said in unison. “We’ve been so lonely.”
“I’ll bet.” Juan squared his shoulders and took a step forward. “Hell of a life with no ships to wreck.”
The third Siren tossed her head back and laughed. It made her breasts jiggle, and Recco fought against a wave of lust that brought his cock to full attention. “I’ll take you, little sailor.” She focused her unearthly gaze on Juan. “I adore men with spirit.”
Magic buffeted Recco from behind, and Aura bounded between their small group and the Sirens. He spun to see where she’d come from and discovered the group they’d left on the boat. He clamped his jaws tight to avoid feeling too relieved. It helped they were all here, yet he couldn’t drop his guard. Power boiled around him, the air prickly and electric with it. If he wasn’t vigilant, the enchantment would sweep him into its maw.
Aura opened her mouth; a wild growl bounced off the ice, echoing crazily. “He’s mine,” she announced, teeth bared, just before she shifted to her mountain cat amid the cacophony of ripping fabric.
The Siren dropped the lyre to the frozen ground. A riff of discordant notes followed as if the instrument resented such rough treatment. The air around the Siren rippled, and her arms turned to wings. Spreading them to better than a six-foot span, she faced off against the snarling mountain lion.
With a feral, grunting howl, Juan shifted too, joining his mate. Screeching and hissing, the two cats sprang on the Siren. Recco edged closer, wanting to help.
“Stay back, amigo,” Juan’s voice echoed in his head. “I’ve got this.”
“No, we have this,” Aura corrected him and closed her jaws over a wing, crunching through feathers and bone. The Siren shrieked her outrage and pain.
If their situation hadn’t been so desperate, Recco would have smiled.
Chapter Five: All That Glitters is Probably Gold
Zoe borrowed heavily from magic to push the Zodiac to greater speed. They had to catch up with the first group. Had to. If the Sirens got their hands on them, they’d ensorcel everyone, making rescue much more difficult, maybe even impossible. She eyed the jagged pathway through the ice. It still held vestiges of the magic that had made it.
The ocean pitched and heaved against the narrow channel, and they hit the waves head-on, bucking their way toward where they could exit the craft. Salt spray coated Zoe’s lips; it burned cold when she breathed in.
“Ward yourselves,” Karin ordered in a terse tone.
“Aye, this isn’t Shifter magic,” Zoe said.
Viktor grimaced. “I still cannot believe I stood by while everyone filed out of the bridge. Christ! Those Sirens command powerful magic.”
“You spent years at sea, and you’re only now figuring that out?” Aura stared at him.
“Never paid much heed to something I didn’t believe in.” To his credit, Viktor didn’t sound defensive.
“Makes sense,” Aura muttered. “Sorry, didn’t mean to put you on the spot.”
“Back to the Sirens,” Ketha said. “Viktor is correct. Their magic is strong, ancient, and it might be hard to second-guess them. It’s why we must be as invisible as we can for as long as we can.”
“There’s the other raft.” Aura pointed. “Didn’t take long to locate it.”
“Magical battles never last long, either,” Karin noted sourly. “I hope to hell we’re not too late.”
Zoe pushed power ahead of her, and then reeled it in just as fast. Nothing like a blast of magic to alert whoever was stumbling around on the ice-shrouded continent.
Ketha sent a pointed glance her way, and Zoe nodded curtly while mumbling, “Sorry.”
Viktor was already out of the raft, and the women piled after him. With all five of them dragging the Zodiac, it slid out of the water and onto the ice shelf easily. Viktor tied it off to the other raft after a brisk tug on something drilled into the ice.
“What are those?” Zoe asked, pointing.
“Ice screws. Normally, I’d never secure one raft to another’s tether, except we have to hurry.”
“We shouldn’t hurry so fast we run square into whatever’s happening ahead.” Karin tugged her hood tighter. A shudder racked her. “It’s far from cold, but the closer we get to the supernatural source controlling things, the more creeped out I am.”
Zoe moved to her side. “Not much choice other than to tip our hand. Nothing to hide behind here. No trees. No bushes. Not even much in the way of boulders. If we leverage magic to ward ourselves, it’s no different from posting a sign warning we’re on our way. Unfortunately, I don’t see any alternative. If we don’t ward ourselves, they’ll discover us even sooner.”
“She’s correct,” Viktor said. “Speed is our friend. The faster we reach the others, the more help we’ll be.” A troubled look rippled across his face. “The music must’ve spelled them. God only knows what we’ll find.”
A vicious blast of wind chopped from the side, and it took all Zoe’s strength to remain upright. She threaded magic around herself, fearing if she didn’t, she’d make no progress at all. Instinctively, she latched a hand around Karin’s upper arm.
“Form two rows,” Ketha said. “Viktor and I will be the front one.”
He draped an arm around her, and they surged into stiffening wind. Aura took hold of Zoe’s other arm, her fingers cutting like pincers. “Weave our power together.” Her words were almost lost in the howl of a storm that had blown out of nowhere.
“Aye, not much to lose displaying our power,” Zoe muttered. “The bastards know we’re here.” Her own stupidity stabbed her. She’d known about the music, but had chalked it off as unimportant and been played for a fool. Maybe if she’d paid closer attention—
“Heed what’s happening now,” her coyote said, its tone pointed.
Recognizing good advice, she refocused her a
ttention on the terrain in front of her boots. The ice was knobby, or travel over its slippery surface would have been a gargantuan task. Gale-force gusts stiffened by the moment, the wind baying like a wounded animal, pathetic and compelling.
“Hope we don’t have to go very far.” Rather than fight to be heard over the howling, shrieking wind, Aura switched to telepathy.
Karin didn’t reply. Neither did Zoe. They needed to conserve every scrap of power they could. According to her coyote, she’d originated from sturdy warrior stock. When she tried to latch onto a calm confidence, it eluded her. The only emotion churning through her, turning her guts to water and her knees to jelly, was fear.
Because she couldn’t obliterate her terror with reason, she glommed onto its energy. Fear was fight or flight. The latter was out of the question. If she ran back to the Zodiac and curled into a paralyzed ball of nerves, she’d never be able to face herself in the mirror—or anywhere else. The years in Ushuaia had been a proving ground of sorts. They’d forced her into survival mode, but she and the other women had never faced anything this bad.
Until we fought the Cataclysm.
She hadn’t known how horrendous it would be until she was in so deep the only way out was to power on through. And she’d had plenty of magic—and backbone —to do her part.
The memory added steel to her spine. She stood straighter as she, Karin, and Aura battled forward, fighting for every step. She aimed for a balance point where she funneled enough magic to make progress possible, yet not so much as to drain her reserves away to nothing. She squinted against the wind and wished she’d had the foresight to bring goggles. Bits of ice and grit stung her eyes and face.
Unremitting white spread before them, and the land wasn’t flat anymore. They were moving uphill, when they weren’t slipping backward. The phrase one step forward, two steps back pounded through her head, encouraging in an odd way since they were making better progress.
Viktor and Ketha had pulled ahead. When they came into view, they weren’t moving at all. Zoe borrowed from her coyote’s senses, scented the wind for changes, and wished she hadn’t. A bitter, dark magic thrummed around her, and the infernal music started up again. Harsh and tantalizing by turns, it promised everything she’d ever wished for. Surcease from their endless battles, predictions of normalcy, whatever normal was. Even though she recognized its soothing stream of images as bullshit, she was inexorably drawn into its spell.
“If I was anywhere except inside, I’d bite you,” the coyote growled.
Its words shattered the hypnotic trance that had snared her, and Zoe braided more magic into her wards. She gripped Aura and Karin tighter. “Still here, right?” The words tore from her in a rush.
“Hanging on by my toenails,” Aura grunted.
They caught up to Viktor and Ketha. “We’re close enough to attack,” Ketha murmured, keeping her mind voice low.
“How do you know?” Karin demanded, not bothering with telepathy.
Viktor turned until he faced them, leaving Ketha staring into a gray void studded with ice crystals. “Every once in a while, the mist parts. The surface dead ahead steepens, and there’s an opening—maybe a cavern. Everyone is huddled in front of it, like they’ve been bewitched or something.”
“How far?” Karin asked in a strained voice.
“Closer than you might think. Maybe fifty yards. The snowy surface and the storm flatten out the light, and it’s tough to judge distance.”
“Shit.” Ketha angled her head over one shoulder. “Two Sirens sashayed out of a hole in the mountainside.”
“We have to get moving. Now.” Karin’s voice held a desperate edge.
Ketha tilted her head, scanning forward again. “Hang on. They don’t seem to be in any hurry, so we shouldn’t be, either. Oho. Number three just emerged.”
Zoe let go of Karin and Aura to push between Viktor and Ketha. Shielding her eyes from the glare of daylight on snow, she stared ahead and willed the vapor to part for her like it had for Ketha. Lyre music reached her, provocative, enticing. Each note developed a life of its own as it swept around her, through her.
Like a curtain being drawn back, the mist fell away.
Her heart thudded hard against her chest as she stared at the tableau. It might be a trick of the light like Viktor suggested, but the group stood far nearer than fifty yards. The Sirens were beautiful and terrible. She’d never seen a mythological being before. Closest she’d come was the Archangel, Raziel. Maybe they all contained the same unearthly combination. A mixture that made you want to race forward and throw yourself at their feet, while everything within you rebelled and shouted to run the other way as fast and as far as your legs could carry you.
As if someone had turned up the sound along with the visual, the Siren with the lyre purred, “Welcome.” Her words formed a harmonic with notes plucked from the lyre’s strings.
“Yes. Welcome,” the other two said in unison. “We’ve been so lonely.”
“I’ll bet.” Juan squared his shoulders and took a step forward. “Hell of a life with no ships to wreck.”
Zoe sucked air through her teeth. The cold made them ache, but at least Juan wasn’t under the Sirens’ spell. Had any of the others broken through? She leaned forward, muttering prayers the bond animals had managed to punch holes in the music’s compelling enchantment.
The third Siren tossed her head back and laughed. It made her breasts jiggle, and Zoe wanted to throttle her. “I’ll take you, little sailor.” The Siren focused her eerie silver gaze on Juan. “I adore men with spirit.”
Magic blasted from behind Zoe, and Aura bounded from their small group to where the Sirens stood. She opened her mouth, and a wild growl bounced off the ice, echoing crazily. “He’s mine,” she announced, teeth bared, just before she shifted to her mountain cat amid the din of ripping fabric.
The Siren dropped her lyre to the frozen ground. A riff of discordant notes followed as if the instrument resented such rough treatment. The air around the Siren rippled, and her arms turned to wings. Spreading them to better than a six-foot span, she faced off against the snarling mountain lion.
With a feral, grunting howl, Juan shifted too, joining his mate. Screeching and hissing, the two cats sprang on the Siren.
“That’s our cue, mates. Watch yourselves. Out of the first group, Juan is fighting on our side. No telling about the rest of them.” Viktor leapt forward with Ketha, Zoe, and Karin on his heels.
Zoe kept her gaze trained on the Sirens. They were naked and perfect, and she didn’t see how she could raise magic against them.
“Your reluctance isn’t standing in Juan or Aura’s way,” her coyote pointed out acidly. “How do you suppose creatures like them have survived for millennia?”
She winced. Once again, her bondmate was spot-on in its observations. “Should we shift?”
“Not unless we have to. Those two are stuck in their animal forms until they get back to the ship. Their clothes are ripped to shreds, and no one can be naked in this weather and survive.”
The two mountain lions snarled, hissed, and bit. Zoe expected the other Sirens to dive in and help their fallen sister. Instead, they stood and stared, gape-mouthed, as if being attacked was so far off their radar screen they had no idea how to react to it.
Magic arced from Zoe’s fingertips, shredding yet another set of gloves. She added her power to Karin, Viktor, and Ketha. Together, they fashioned a protective arc around the mountain cats. Where the Siren’s blood spilled onto the snow, iridescent red-gold rivers formed, creating a song of their own. The music sang to Zoe not unlike the Sirens’ song. Pain sluiced through her.
They were killing something sacred. One of the mysteries.
“Och, enough.” She spoke aloud to steady herself. That mystery would have been quick enough to bind all of them on the seventh continent forever. What had the one said? We’ve been so lonely.
How the hell had they ended up here in the first place?
J
uan and Aura raised bloody snouts from the fallen Siren. Light flared around her prone form. Red. Gold. Blue. Violet. Each flash of light bathed a part of what was left of the Siren in eerie relief—right before it shimmered into nothingness. Within the space of ten heartbeats, the snow was as pristine as if nothing had ever lain there.
If the mountain cats’ mouths weren’t rimmed with blood, Zoe might have thought she’d imagined everything. The lyre sat in the snow, exactly where the Siren had dropped it. Moving slowly, as if something inside her had broken, another Siren picked up the lyre. She held the instrument in front of her and teased its strings. Two notes evoking all the sadness in this world and every other fell from the instrument.
Tears gathered behind Zoe’s eyes, freezing as soon as they dripped onto her cheeks.
Both Sirens opened their mouths. Zoe girded herself for shrieks and wails. Instead, a song without words floated through the still, cold air. Crafted in a minor key, it summoned images of all the pain Zoe had known through her life. Every loss. Every death. Every wrong turn where she’d shed tears for her ignorance—or her stupidity.
“Watch it.” Her coyote was back. “Their grief is as dangerous as their joy.”
The mountain lions paced back and forth leaving big paw prints and claw marks in the unending white. Aura yowled. Juan howled. Were they regretting their part in the Siren’s demise?
Knowledge intruded. The longer they remained here, the less likely they’d ever leave. While she still had free will—and it was eroding fast—Zoe strode forward on feet that had turned to blocks of ice.
“Enough.” She shouted directly into the Siren’s faces. For good measure, she grasped the lyre and yanked hard on it. She’d expected the Siren to try to hang onto the instrument, but she didn’t. Zoe stumbled backward. The lyre was warm in her hands, soothing her icy fingers.
She’d always adored music. The lyre wanted playing, and she settled her fingers over its strings.
“Bad idea,” Ketha shouted. “Don’t.”
“But it wants me to play it.” Zoe pedaled through a warm river sending bits of suggestion into her mind. The only important thing was the lyre. The goddess had made sure it ended up in her hands. She had to play it—