Doppelganger Dirge: A Musical Paranormal Reverse Harem Romance (Spellsinger Book 11)

by Amy Sumida

  “Sing something sweet or I shall kill your grandmother tonight,” he snarled in my ear.

  I froze. Fear lanced down my spine as my stare shot to my great-grandma. Her eyes widened, but she shook her head at me adamantly. Stupid, brave woman. She'd rather die than see this beast win.

  “Not her.” Gargo chuckled low. “Ligeia. Did you know I have her? She sits in her pretty cage, as stubborn a bird as you are. Useless under the sea. All she can do for me now is become leverage. But leverage only works if you're willing to do what you threaten.” He leaned closer. “And I am, Elaria. I will tear her wings from her shoulders and cut her into little pieces while you watch.”

  My jaw clenched. Hatred burned my blood. But it was just a song and in the grand scheme of this war, this was just a skirmish. Gargo could have this round. It would bring me closer to victory and protect someone I loved. I shifted my stare up to him.

  “You win,” I whispered. “For now.” He started to let me go, but I grabbed his shirt and held on as I whispered in his ear, “Grandpa, if you can hear me, know that I won't stop until you're free.”

  Gargo chuckled and squeezed my wrist until I released him. “How sweet. But you'll never free him, Spellsinger. Your grandfather will wither and die beneath the crushing weight of my soul. Now, sing me something pretty and save a little birdie.”

  “Keep holding on.”

  “He can't hear you, Elaria,” Gargo growled.

  “I was speaking to the musicians,” I said in a louder voice.

  They widened their eyes at me.

  “'Keep Holding On' by Avril Lavigne,” I repeated to them.

  “Sure thing,” Elan stammered then looked at Gargo. “If that pleases Poseidon?”

  “It will do.” Gargo smirked and turned on his heels to head back to his seat.

  I nodded to the men and Faris, the lead guitarist, started to strum. The music swung up to my intro, and I began to sing. I met Gargo's stare and sent Poseidon my message in the best way that I knew how; through music. Hold on, Grandpa, this war is just beginning. Then I cast my gaze out to the room and sang to them. I told them to hold on too, letting them know that they were stronger than they thought and they weren't alone. My voice burst into the chorus and even though there was no magic in it, my skin shivered with the power of my emotions. These people were my family. I had tried to make them see their mistakes and now I'd let them know that I was with them despite what they'd done. We could make it through this together.

  I swayed to the song and poured my heart out through my music. The sea gods leaned forward in their seats, transfixed as I settled back into a gentle level, promising to fight for them no matter what they did. All they had to do was hold on; survive. I spiraled up into hope with them, showing them that all was not lost. They didn't have to bend their knees to this monster forever. Maybe they were down now, but they had people who cared about them outside these stone walls. Outside the ocean even.

  Eyes began to shine with tears and lips trembled. When I finished, the room was utterly silent for two seconds before erupting into applause. I glanced at the dais and saw my great-uncle smiling at me as he clapped. I had done more than he had asked of me. I hadn't just reminded them of who they were, I'd given them a reason to hold onto that.

  “Yes, that was beautiful,” Gargo announced as he strode back down the steps to me. “But I think it's time for my granddaughter to have her dinner.” He grabbed my hand and started to pull me with him. “She must keep up her strength.”

  “Thank you,” I said to the court. “I've always loved singing for my family.”

  They applauded more, several glaring at Gargo as he forced me away from the microphone.

  “Nice try,” Gargo muttered to me. “But it doesn't matter what you say to them. Or what you sing. They will be loyal because if they're not, I will kill them.”

  “That's not loyalty,” I shot back. “That's slavery, and repressed people obey for only so long before they fight back.”

  “Sit down and put something in your mouth,” he snarled at me as he shoved me into a seat beside Triton. He leaned down to whisper in my ear, “Oppose me again and the people you love will pay the price.”

  I watched Gargo slide into his seat. He laid an arm over the back of my great-grandmother's chair then grinned maliciously at me. I shifted my stare to Triton. My uncle winked at me and filled my wine glass.

  “Drink,” Triton whispered. “It will help.”

  Chapter Twenty

  “My people,” Gargo said in a booming voice as he stood.

  The room went quiet, everyone turning their attention immediately to the impostor.

  “It's easy to be moved by a sweet voice and dramatic words,” Gargo went on. “But I hope you haven't let the Spellsinger sway you from our path. Remember what we are working toward; the Golden Age of the Gods. A time when our oceans will be free of human refuse, and we will be free to swim the shallows without worrying about hiding. When those of us who can walk on land may do so openly, being proud of who they are. It's been too long that we've masked ourselves and cowered beneath the waves as if humans were more powerful than we are!”

  The room started rumbling in agreement, heads nodding and eyes flashing.

  “We are Gods!” Gargo roared and his power poured through his voice. “We do not hide; we rule! We could crush them in an instant but instead, we let them destroy this world with their wars, and poisons, and technology. We've allowed the humans to have their way for long enough. Soon, they shall see who their masters are!”

  The room exploded with cheering, and Gargo smiled viciously at them as my jaw clenched. I glanced at Triton, and he shook his head subtly. This fight wouldn't be won with a public argument. Poseidon's people needed to be swayed in private, away from his venomous lies.

  “We will take back this planet and reveal our glory to the humans!” Gargo continued, waving his arms adamantly. “We will purify the water, the land, and the air. We will cleanse the Earth and make it better for everyone! And we will be true Gods once more!”

  The applause lasted far too long for my comfort. I couldn't tell if they were convinced by Gargo's Golden Age speech or if they were humoring him so he wouldn't kill them. His words were motivating, and he made some good points. Except he had no intention of fulfilling his promises. Gargo would take control of the Earth, but he wouldn't do it for the Beneath. Beneathers might be allowed more freedom than humans in his new world, but they wouldn't rule. Gargo would never share his power.

  I slid a look his way, and the Gargoyle God grinned at me with my great-grandfather's face. I looked away, setting my attention on my meal. He was right; I did need my strength. I'd need it to escape him so I could return and fight him. I shoveled food into my mouth determinedly. Thankfully, after his speech, Gargo settled into his seat and went quiet. The rest of us at the high table took the silence as a gift and didn't break it; eating our food in peace, each of us focused on our own churning thoughts.

  At the end of the meal, Triton got up to escort me back to my room.

  “I'll take her.” Gargo stepped around Triton and snatched my wrist. “See to your mother.”

  “Yes, Father,” Triton said stiffly.

  Gargo nodded to the court as he led me down the central aisle then out into the corridor. He didn't say a word until we were at the top of the stairs, nearly to my prison room.

  “Perhaps it would be better if you took your meals alone from now on,” Gargo muttered.

  “Did I scare you?” I smiled smugly.

  Gargo flung the door open and shoved me inside the room. I went stumbling forward but caught myself before I fell. With a little laugh, I spun to face him.

  “You're not as smart as you think,” I said.

  “Wiser than you.” He looked around pointedly.

  “If that were true, you wouldn't have tried to kill me,” I countered.

  He blinked. “Kill you? What are you talking about?”

  “The doppelgan
gers,” I growled. “All of those women your assassins killed, believing they were me. If you intended to use my blood to free yourself, why would you send assassins after me? And incompetent ones at that.”

  “Someone has assassinated women who look like you?” He asked gleefully. “Oh, Spellsinger, you've made many enemies, haven't you? So many that you can't keep track of them all.”

  “The assassins were Tritons. Don't try to pretend that you didn't send them.”

  “There are several Tritons who were absent from court when I first took control of Poseidon's body,” he mused. “Perhaps they were the assassins you speak of. How amusing. All of this time and you've thought your grandfather was trying to kill you.” He blinked then laughed. “Oh, that has hurt him deeply. Thank you for that, dearest Ellie-bell.”

  The bastard had used my grandfather's nickname for me.

  “It wasn't you,” I concluded in a whisper.

  “No, it wasn't.” Gargo's smirk returned. “But I'm glad those assassins failed. So much rests on your blood, Spellsinger. Your freshly spilled blood.”

  “Never pin your hopes on a spellsinger,” I warned him. “We're notoriously flighty.”

  “Oh, but I've got you caged.” His hand shot forward and circled my throat. “I wonder how your lovers are faring without you. Do you think they believe you're dead? How tragic. Maybe they'll die of broken hearts. Unless they're already dead, that is.”

  I clawed at his hand, and he released me with a laugh.

  “No, it's more likely that any of them who have survived will carry on in your name,” Gargo went on mercilessly. “Fighting for your honor,” he said the word as if I didn't know its meaning. “The next time I meet them in battle, I won't have to worry about securing my captive. I'll be able to concentrate on killing all who oppose me. But don't fret.” He stroked my cheek, and I jerked away from him. “I'll bring you their heads so you can mourn them before you join them.”

  Gargo turned and left the room, locking me in once more, though locks were unnecessary; the whole damn place was a prison.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  That night, I dreamed of death. Not mine but my lovers. I saw their bodies floating in the water, just out of my reach. Eyes misted with the gray veil of the dead, limbs hanging limply, and bodies torn open by weapons and the fish who had come to feed on their flesh. All of them were there, and I had never felt so utterly defeated. I drifted down to the ocean floor, heavy in my misery, and curled into a ball to weep.

  “You did this,” Banning whispered.

  My head jerked up, my gaze seeking Banning's. His dead eyes focused on me.

  “You didn't secure Gargo after you sang him to sleep,” he went on mercilessly. “You should have known better. You should have made sure that he couldn't escape in any way.”

  “I thought he was secure! I couldn't have known about that river,” I wailed. “Banning, please, I'm so sorry.”

  “You killed us all, little bird,” Torin gurgled. A crab crawled out of a hole in his throat. “Consigned us to this inglorious end. Left us here to be food for fish.”

  “I didn't,” I whispered, cold pain shivering through me.

  “You killed us all,” Darc affirmed. “Even me. My immortal body beheaded by a shard of stone.”

  “Do you even care?” Gage asked bleakly. “Or are you too consumed with your own welfare? No time to mourn us.”

  “That's not true!” I screamed. “I won't mourn you until I know for certain that you're dead. I won't give in to weakness. I need to be strong to get home to you.”

  “There is no home for you. We were your home and now, we're all dead,” Slate said in a monotone voice that echoed around me. “Cry for us, Elaria. Now is the time.”

  “No!” I pushed off the sand and grabbed at their legs. They flopped against me. “You're not dead! You can't be dead!”

  “We are,” Slate's voice intoned.

  In one echoing voice, they said together, “Now is the time to mourn.”

  The bodies closed in around me, pummeling me. Slapping limply against me. Something smacked me across my face, and my eyes popped open. I blinked, disoriented to go from dream to waking so quickly. The ocean and my dead lovers were gone. I could feel the weight of my body laying on the bed and a thick veil covered my face. I shoved away the heavy fabric and sat up. It was my wet suit. I frowned, still panting and trembling from the horror of my nightmare, and lifted my gaze to find Gargo standing at the foot of my bed. He tossed my respirator mask onto the comforter.

  “Get dressed,” Gargo ordered. “We're going on a trip.”

  “Where?” I asked warily, even though I suspected I knew what this was about.

  “Monster hunting.” He grinned, doubtless thinking he was teasing me with misleading information when he was only confirming my suspicions. His eyes narrowed. “Did you not sleep well, Spellsinger? You look a little pale and your eyes are red. Could you be worried about something?” He grinned maliciously. “Did you have a nightmare?”

  The anger that lashed through me at his taunts burned away the aching pain of my nightmare. They weren't dead; I wouldn't allow myself to think that. Nor would I allow my repressed fears to undermine my efforts to stay strong.

  “I slept like a baby,” I lied and even gave him a ferocious grin.

  Morning had brought me hope, it just hadn't sunk in yet. Triton had done it; he'd convinced Gargo to sacrifice someone to Scylla. With a bit of luck, I'd be free of him soon. I grabbed the suit and headed to the bathroom, hiding the excitement that was replacing my terror.

  “Hurry up. The Court is waiting,” Gargo growled after me.

  I used the facilities, splashed some water on my face to wake myself up, braided my hair, and struggled into the wet suit. Those things are a bitch to get into, even the Beneather versions. When I was dressed, I stepped back into the bedroom and slipped my boots on.

  I picked up the mask and waved toward the door with it. “Lead on, Gargamel.”

  Gargo frowned at me. “That's not my name.”

  “It's a joke that I just wasted on you.” I grimaced. “Never mind. Let's go.”

  “Do not refer to me as anyone but Poseidon, Spellsinger,” Gargo growled as he turned and marched into the hallway. “If you do, it will go poorly for those you love.”

  Great; we were back to threatening my loved ones. This guy was one-note; something we Spellsingers especially hate.

  I fell into step beside him. “How did you really get inside Poseidon?” I asked in a low tone. “And don't give me that crap about dreams.”

  “It wasn't crap,” he said, the pleasure of his accomplishment lighting his eyes. “I dreamt; it was all you left me. But God minds cannot be contained as easily as human. Our magic never slumbers; it expands and takes us with it. I floated down that stream to the sea and there I found Poseidon.”

  “My great-grandfather is too strong for a sleeping god to possess him,” I protested. “There must be more to it than that.”

  “Oh, there is,” Gargo said gleefully. “I was drawn to your great-grandfather by his desire for power. His mind sought more magic and because of this, it was open to hearing me. To hearing my offer.”

  “No,” I said in horror.

  “Yes,” he confirmed. “Poseidon welcomed me in willingly. I promised him power like he'd never imagined; the power of a true god. Of course, I didn't mention that although that magic would reside in his body, he would not control it.”

  “Oh, Grandpa,” I whispered sadly.

  “Foolish man,” Gargo said in an agreeing tone. “Never allow something more powerful than yourself to invade your sanctuary.”

  “Good tip,” I growled.

  “Ah, here is your uncle and cousin.” He slid a warning look my way. “Behave yourself, Elaria, or I will have to make good on my threat.”

  “Father,” Triton nodded to Gargo. “Elaria.”

  “Good morning, Uncle,” I said politely. “Triteia.”

  My cousin wa
s cuffed but her feet were unbound and she wore her warrior garb still; a long-sleeved, seaweed-green top with metal plates that conformed to her body and a short skirt of leather strips studded with more metal. My uncle wasn't dressed for war, but he did have on the standard ocean ensemble of a Triton male; a laced-up vest and a belt hung with a studded leather flap at front and back. They were both barefoot.

  “Cousin,” Triteia said as she gave me a heavy, knowing look.

  Good, her father had confided in her. That freed me from having to explain everything as we fled.