Soul Breather (21st Century Sirens Book 1)

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Soul Breather (21st Century Sirens Book 1) Page 8

by T Stedman


  ***

  Dante’s optimism was short-lived when his father blustered into the study.

  “Brilliant news Dante … I can’t believe the fortune now showering on our family.” Christian said, as he paced animatedly in front of the desk where Dante sat.

  “What is it?” He looked up warily.

  “Another one Dante, we have another.”

  Dante’s heart began to sink. “Another what?”

  “Siren, of course. Your brother Stephan has been keeping one to himself for several weeks.”

  “Is she his?” Dante asked, hoping she was. He’d got his mind set on the one he’d seen.

  “No she is not.”

  Shit. His brain quickly worked to process the information. She couldn’t be his because he knew his ring had already gone purple – that made him feel better. She could be for one of his other brothers or she could belong to one of the other families. Shit, if that was the case, it was risky, but they could try to marry him to all five. As if on cue…

  “All five Dante, all the power could not only be in one family, but in one prince.”

  “Why can’t Stephan marry her?” But he knew the answer already.

  “No Dante, if all five Sirens don’t belong to this family and proven by rings, then I’m damn well not going to hand any of them over to another family. It would have to be a coup. Precarious I know, but we could fight it on the grounds that you were already a proven king. It would be impossible to justify the action for a lesser prince in the same family.”

  Fuck, his father had already assumed that the Siren would be his. He could feel his new life spiralling down the pan before it had begun. “When does she come?”

  “We will test her quickly before the original one is due to arrive. That way if she is an imposter then no harm is done.”

  “We will make enemies of all the other families, including the Bonaci, if we do this,” Dante tried to reason. He knew the only real chance of success in the long run was to keep them all on side.

  Christian waved the statement away with his hand. “Any one of them would do the same. I must tell the rest of your brothers.”

  Dante knew they would all hate him now. He was the prodigal son about to not only get the fatted calf, but the whole herd too. Life just got better and fucking better.

  He picked up his phone and dialled Jay. Three rings and he picked up.

  “Hello Dant?”

  “Thank God, where have you been man? Listen I must speak to you, it’s urgent.”

  “Yeah, me too … when?”

  “I’m kind of tied up tomorrow, day after?”

  “Sure … Dante?

  “Yeah?”

  “About the girl … are we cool?”

  The line went quiet for a few moments. “Of course mate, I’m pleased for you.”

  “Thanks, I knew you’d understand.”

  “Later.”

  “Later.”

  Dante clicked the phone off and threw it on the table. He was pleased and a little relieved that his closest friend had found someone special. He hoped that he would too. He’d know either way in the next twenty-four hours. They would either have this cosmic attraction he’d learned so much about, or it would all be superstitious nonsense. Then the new beginning he’d dreamed of would be nothing but grief. One he couldn’t run away from or hide in a bottle. Either way he’d have to man-up.

  ***

  Morning came all too quickly for Jay and Tia. They’d woken at dawn and made love with the urgency of lovers whose time was almost up. They stopped only when Tia noticed Jay’s lips were blue with the cold.

  She cocooned him in towels and the quilt and lay on top of his swaddled body on the bed while she was naked. He looked up at her other-worldly eyes and she stroked back his hair from his forehead as his teeth chattered.

  “Look what I put you through.”

  “It’s worth it,” he said, through gritted teeth. “I’m getting better since I drank that stuff. Maybe it makes me run colder or something?”

  A look of worry crossed her face.

  He struggled to free his arms and put his hands on either side of her face. “It’ll be okay … I’m seeing Dante tomorrow, so I’ll see you, okay? Then I’ll have a chance to work something out with him. Whichever one of them it is, they are being pushed into this as much as you are.”

  She nodded and lay her head down on his chest and they were quiet for a while.

  “Come, I’m warm now. You’d better get ready.”

  She reluctantly slid off him, sitting up with her feet on the floor.

  “I’ll go and get us some food while you get dressed … don’t look too hot,” he said grinning.

  ***

  Tia stared at herself in the mirror. She felt so miserable. It was the first time in her life she’d been truly happy, with the man of her dreams and a relatively healthy sex life (well almost), and it was all about to be taken away from her to marry a complete stranger.

  In a wilful temper, she stood and set about dressing. She took out her tights and ripped them in several places. She dug out her old black Dr. Martens boots, the shortest denim micro-mini known to man, and a thin white shirt with a black bra for underneath. Then she braided some of her hair and back combed the rest, tying it all to one side with a scarf. She black-charcoaled her eyes, and popped a lump of bubble gum in her mouth to complete the look.

  As Jay walked in with a tray, she turned around. “Ta dah!” she said, popping a bubble.

  He nearly dropped the tray. “You look like a St Trinian on acid!” His eyes were wide trying to take it all in. “If you’re trying to put him off, you’d have been better dressing as a librarian. He’s the original ‘Rebel Without A Cause’. You’re playing right into his hands,” he said, laughing.

  She flopped down to sit on the bed hopeless, and put her head in her hands. “My life is over.”

  Jay put the tray down, came around the bed and pulled her up against him. “Give him hell, okay.”

  She looked sadly up at him and nodded. “You think it will be him don’t you … “

  A knock at the door interrupted their locked eyes. Sean’s voice came through it. “It’s time, Tia.”

  “Coming.” She called behind her.

  “You haven’t eaten,” Jay said, quietly.

  “I don’t think I could anyway,” she said, swallowing the lump in her throat.

  Jay walked her out of the room, along the landing, and to the bottom of the stairs.

  Her uncle was in the hall waiting for her. “Jay can come no further, Thelxiepia.”

  Panicking, she turned into Jay’s chest and clung to him. He allowed her this, kissed her cheek and whispered, “I’m still here. It’s okay.”

  She felt her eyes prickle with tears. She daren’t look at him, in case he saw and thought her a wimp.

  Alfonzo held out his hand in way of a prompt. Marco was waiting by the open door, impeccably turned out.

  Eventually, she turned within Jay’s arms, without looking at him, and put her hand in Alfonzo’s. He led her down the hallway, past Cash and Sean, who both wished her luck.

  She noticed a pretty blond woman standing next to Sean. “Sarah,” she said, absently. The woman smiled sympathetically. She wondered what Sean had told her.

  Alfonzo made no comment about her dress as he escorted her right up to Marco. He held up her arm and offered it. “The Royal House of Bonaci gives its daughter to the Royal House of Dubonnetti.”

  Marco bowed deeply. Tia felt like she was in a dream and would wake up in a minute. Her face must have looked like she’d been smacked in the gob with a wet fish.

  Marco continued. “You honour us,” and he took her hand.

  She felt every one behind her eyes boring into her back – but mostly Jay’s. The urge to turn around and have one last look at him was unbearable, but she knew if she did she’d fly back into his arms, and they’d have to drag her out the place kicking and screaming. So she put her best DM f
orward and walked out of the door to a waiting limousine – leaving the house and her old life forever.

  Chapter 12

  Marco led her into the hallway of the ancient grey stone house. Inside everything smelt old; she supposed from all the old wood and creaky floorboards. A grandfather clock ticked reliably in the corner steadying her beating heart.

  Deep down she felt a deep sense of foreboding, as if she was being led into a Lions den. Marco looked so smug and happy that she felt uneasy rather than comforted. It was as if he was up to something.

  “Come meet the folks,” he said, as if she’d popped round for tea. He led her into a large sitting room with a cheery fire in the grate. There was a grand piano in the corner, two large leather sofas facing each other, with a polished dainty table at one end topped with a vase of freshly cut white flowers. She didn’t know what they were.

  Marco let her look around while he called for everyone. She wished her heart wasn’t thumping so.

  The two brothers she knew entered the room. They walked up to her and welcomed her like old friends, kissing her on both cheeks. She noted them both raising an eyebrow at how she was dressed. One to me!

  She knew the moment he got there; she felt the hairs on the back of her neck rise, her stomach fluttered and she felt dizzy, but she managed to hold it together. She tried with all her might to resist the urge to look around but curiosity got the better of her.

  Framed in the doorway like an old portrait he stilled, and then walked gracefully into the room. He was nothing like his brothers. His hair was long, to his shoulders, jet black and wavy. His brothers’ was blond and short. Their eyes were light grey, his were dark like slate.

  The only similarity between them was that they were all tall –over six feet – but he was taller. He was lean, looking great in an open necked black shirt over trendy black trousers. Wow, was the only word that came to mind. He exuded sex appeal. She found herself hyperventilating and perspiring. Fuck!

  Marco, she realised, could hardly contain his glee standing next to her. “May I present my brother, Dante?” And held his arm out towards him.

  Dante just stood in front of her looking into her eyes. She tried desperately to hide her reaction to him, but failed miserably. His eyes danced with mirth. He was not the sensible austere would-be king she was expecting, even though Jay had warned her.

  She watched his eyes glide over her body and meet hers like a co-conspirator. He reached for her hand hanging limply at her side and rubbed his thumb back and forth over the back of it. Then, wide-eyed, she watched him take it to his mouth and kiss it with lips barely containing their amusement. Her body bloomed for him as if he’d licked it. His big ring glinted in the light, exactly the same as his brothers, except purple. Electricity shot to her toes, amongst other places she refused to acknowledge.

  “Pleased to meet you Thelxiepia,” he said, grinning and showing off perfect white teeth.

  I’m fucked! He was knockout. She’d been hoping that he’d be like a little gnome or something that she could be friends with. But this guy … she couldn’t decide whether he reminded her more of a gipsy or a pirate. His thick Irish accent only made him seem more rakish. She wondered why his brothers spoke perfect Queen’s English and he didn’t: the rebel in him, she decided.

  “Tia! Please call me Tia.” She found herself saying. Per … thetic!

  He stepped to the side as an older gentleman stalked into the room. The father, she guessed. He was tall, slim and greying, with not the slightest look of frailty about him. He studied her shrewdly making no hint of his disapproval at her obvious lack of respect in her dress.

  He picked up her hand. “Thelxiepia! Welcome.”

  She watched his eyes dart to Dante’s ring and then he smiled at her, drew her hand to his mouth and breathed over it. He fixed his eyes on her like a cobra. “I am Christian Dubonnetti.”

  She fought the urge to shudder. “Hello,” she said.

  “Where is Stephan?” Marco said, breaking the evil spell.

  “He is with the young lady already in the pool. Her name is Joselle.” Christian said.

  It struck her what an odd thing to say that was.

  He put his arm in the small of her back. “Shall we join them Thelxiepia? It’s time to meet your sister.”

  How strange it was that Alfonzo hadn’t mentioned that she would be meeting her sister today.

  ***

  When Dante saw her he thought her breathtaking. He drank her in before he walked into the room. Her act of rebellion in dressing the way she did only appealed to him all the more; fuck, he’d have done the same thing. No shrinking violet would hold his attention.

  She obviously hadn’t connected him to the first time he’d seen her at the club. Thankfully the Elixir prevented a repeat of his physical reaction to her.

  His ring, which had been a part of him for years, vibrated on his finger. He’d come to realise it was telling him it was changing. So by the time he brought her hand up to his mouth to kiss it, he didn’t need to look at it to know it was purple. The proof was there. She was not only one of the Sirens he’d been told about all his life, but she was his. The most compatible person to him in the whole world; whatever compatible meant – supposedly a perfect match for him to marry. Whatever it was, she would bring power and riches to his whole family.

  He felt a little sorry for his father now. He’d given him a really hard time over the years, calling him a raving lunatic most of the time, when all he’d been doing was telling him the truth.

  Now he followed behind everyone as his Siren was led off to the basement and the underground viewing area.

  It had always reminded him of one of those large zoo aquariums where dolphins and whales were kept. Except this one was in his home; no wonder he’d thought everyone was mad. Well, he had to start embracing these differences to the Humans they lived amongst. Fuck! It was so alien. He found himself laughing at his own pun. God, he was losing it; sobriety was crazier than being drunk these days.

  The viewing area was damp and dark; originally the old cellars. He felt a stab of guilt at the barbarity of the test as they walked down the stone steps. His father had told him the old stories of Witches being tried in the seventeenth century using ducking stools; much the same as the one they had here. They were really testing devices for water-breathing folk. Some they found would have been Sea Witches living among Humans, but on rare occasions, they would in fact be a Siren, who could lead men to their doom or to great power and wealth.

  Although he felt guilty, he knew deep down that fascination would win over, and he would watch to see if she died under the water. Besides, his turn would come.

  ***

  She was led along a corridor, through a wood panel in the library wall and down some dimly-lit spiral stairs. It was just like an old Hammer Horror movie. She could already smell the dampness and the water.

  At the bottom of the staircase, they came into a small room with one whole wall to the right made of plate glass, with an old metal frame around it. It was lit from behind like a large fish tank with blue water from floor to ceiling. The whole feel of the place was like a dungeon; it was so dark and old.

  She put both her hands on the glass and peered into the water. “Christ, is there a person in there?”

  “That is your sister, Joselle. You will meet her.” Christian purred. “She didn’t find the test easy, so you will be a comfort to her.”

  Bastard. The poor creature was cowering on the bottom looking terrified.

  She looked around at those assembled with her. Paolo and Antonio looked at her guiltily. The one she hadn’t met yet; she assumed he was Stephan, looked upset and angry. He was apart from everyone, pacing like he wanted to punch a wall. He was so young; he couldn’t be more than about seventeen or eighteen.

  Christian interrupted her thoughts. “My servant will take you to the pool surface so you may join her.”

  She looked at him, her eyes heavy lidded with contempt at h
ow he sugar-coated something so heartless and cruel.

  All her life she had hidden her ability successfully; now she had to show it to prove who she was. The irony wasn’t lost on her. She took a deep breath, resigned herself to the test and stepped out of her boots, tights and skirt. She pulled her shirt over her head until she was only in her underwear.

  She didn’t understand the impulse, but she turned to the dark one, hovering quietly at the back. “Can you hold these for me? I don’t want them to get wet.” It felt a lame thing to say, but for some reason he didn’t seem to be part of the madness.

  “Of course,” he replied, and took her things.

  “I won’t be able to speak for about an hour when I get out … just so they know.” She found herself explaining.

  He nodded.

  ***

  Dante watched her follow the large bodyguard in her bra and knickers, looking so small and fragile like a doll. She disappeared up the narrow staircase next to the pool, which led up to the surface.

  It had surprised him that out of all those present, she’d passed her clothes to him and explained that she would lose her voice, even though he was no less guilty than the rest of them in condoning what was happening to her.

  He admired her courage and wandered how bad her life must have been to have honed such a strong spirit to take all this in her stride.

  ***

  At the top of the stairs it looked like any other indoor swimming pool, but she could see at the deep end there was a six square feet of much darker water. This must be the gap in the floor where it dropped away into the tank that could be viewed from below.

  The chair with restraints was mounted on a metal frame on a miniature crane type mechanism, which would swing out over the pool, and then lower into the deeper part.

  “You don’t need to strap me in the chair, I can get into the pool myself.”

  The bodyguard thought about it for a second and then nodded.

  She jumped in and put her head back and wet her hair. The guard watched her the whole time. “You must swim down into the tank,” he said.

 

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