Blood Revolution (God Wars, #3) (9 page)

"Baby, come with us, the family says you can see the body before they bring it in," Hank was back with Bill.

"Thanks," I said, rising from my seat. Opal followed, too—I think she was afraid to let me out of her sight.

Hank was right—the body did smell like embalming fluid—to me, anyway. That didn't stop me from getting information, though. John's spirit stood right next to the polished black coffin.

Chapter 5
 

 

Breanne's Journal

Bill drew in a breath while Hank and Opal went completely silent. I'd linked with them and allowed them to see the vision of John's spirit through my eyes. They could hear him, too—through me. John's brother, Chris, stood nearby, and since I didn't want to alarm him, I left him next to the coffin and unaware.

"I don't know the names," John said. "All I saw were faces."

Visualize the images
, I silently requested. Images filtered into my mind. Opal gasped softly. She recognized Oscar Forde just as easily as Bill and I did. The two humans I didn't recognize, but with an obsession and without a scent, I couldn't identify them, either. I figured one of them had dumped the body, and at least we had faces to connect to the crimes.

"Do you have any message for your family?" I asked aloud. "Give me something only your brother might know, so he'll believe," I added.

"Tell him we set the grass on fire behind the garage after we stole the old man's cigarettes to smoke," John said. "Nobody ever found out about that."

"All right. What do you want me to say after that?"

"That I love him. That this isn't the end. We'll see each other again."

"I'll tell him," I nodded.

"Thanks." John faded away.

"Chris," I turned to John's brother, who looked very much like John except he didn't shave his head, "John says to tell you he loves you, and that this isn't the end. You'll see each other again. And just to make sure you believe that he said those things, he also said to tell you that he remembers stealing cigarettes from your father, smoking and setting the grass on fire behind the garage."

"What?" Chris gaped at me. "How did you know that?"

"He told me," I said, shrugging. "He really does love you, but he's made the walk to the other side, now. That doesn't mean he won't check in now and then, because he probably will."

"To the other side?" Chris wiped away tears.

"Honey, he needs the rest and support he'll get there. Let him leave all this behind for a little while, okay?"

"I don't know what to do," Chris wept. My heart broke for him, and then I did something I hadn't done since I was tiny. I sent
Love
to Chris. He wrapped me in his arms, sobbed once and then pulled away, staring at me through his tears.

"Oh, my gosh," he whispered reverently. "Thank you."

"You're welcome. Just remember, John will always be a part of you. If you need anything, let Hank know. He'll pass the message to me and I'll do what I can."

"Thank you. You just made this day bearable."

"We'll get through this," I squeezed his fingers in mine.

"Yeah."

* * *

"What was that you did—was that a ghost?" Opal blinked at me as she, Bill and I sat at a table in The Lean Bean.

"I guess you could call it a ghost. It was John's spirit." I knew this conversation might come, and I didn't want to upset or frighten Opal or Bill. More than I had already, anyway. And I wanted to explain about the Sirenali, too.

Hank had gone with John's family to the cemetery in Oakland. Bill and Opal took charge of me and we ended up at my favorite coffee shop. Bill wanted to discuss Oscar Forde's involvement in John's death, and he and Opal both wanted to know about ghosts.

"I've seen some strange things, and figured I'd seen ghosts a few times, but I could never prove anything," Opal shook her head.

"I've only seen a few—most of them head to the other side as soon as the way is cleared. Some wait a while. Some refuse to go at all."

"Weird," Opal sighed.

"Yeah."

"Is that the only information on Oscar Forde?" Bill asked, lifting his cappuccino to drink.

"I haven't gotten any prior news about him being in the area, so yeah. It is," I watched Bill's face as he digested the news.

"I figure Keir Arthur isn't far away," Opal said. "At least that's the idea I got when we were in Austin—that they usually stayed close."

"There's something else you need to know," I said, toying with my cup. I should have been proud of myself—my hands were only shaking a little.

"What's that?" Bill set his cup down and studied me carefully.

"What's behind all this to begin with," I said. "Beginning with the college girl murders."

"What's behind this? It's not just crazy rogue vamps?" Opal shrugged out of her jacket as she whispered the words. The Lean Bean was busy and nobody was likely to overhear, but there was no need to take chances.

"It's someone belonging to a race called the Sirenali," I said. "You don't want to meet this person—he, she or whatever. It would be best if I track it, because it's just too dangerous."

"But what does this have to do with the rogues we're chasing?" Bill asked. "What can these creatures do that's so dangerous?"

"The Sirenali can place obsessions. Not compulsion, like the vamps can—these are obsessions. Once placed, only the Sirenali who placed it can remove it, or the one obsessed dies. If a Sirenali asks you to kill, you'll become quite inventive on how and when you kill, in an effort to please your Sirenali master. The other problem with them is this—normally I can use mental ability to find somebody. I can't find the Sirenali or anybody they've obsessed. Something blocks the power used, and I can't explain that."

"You're saying that Oscar Forde and Keir Arthur are obsessed by one of those things?" Opal stared at me in alarm.

"And Tanner Johns and the other two vamps involved in those murders," I nodded. "All of them had an obsession. Bill, your driver had an obsession, too. That's why I had to kill him the way I did. We couldn't arrest him—he'd never lose the desire to kill you and Opal. It was the only way."

"Breanne, that's the most frightening thing I've heard in a long time." Bill's eyes had gone dark with worry. "I don't have a body to give to the driver's family, either. This is far too complicated."

"You ought to know this, too," I went on. "Sirenali look human—actually they use power to appear human. They're not, obviously. If they drop the disguise, you see what they really are—scaled amphibians with a mostly humanoid shape. They have sharp teeth and prefer seafood of some kind when they eat. I believe Sirenali may be behind all the Earth myths about Sirens, only they don't sing—not to my knowledge, anyway. They just place obsession, and most people have no way to resist."

"So they could use their talent to instruct a ship's crew to wreck on sharp rocks," Opal observed.

"Yep. Or any number of other, nasty things. Since I don't know how long this Sirenali has been here, I can't say if this is a recent arrival or somebody who's been around for a really long time, and just decided to conspire with the enemy." I realized my mistake the moment the last few words left my mouth.

"Conspiring with the enemy?" Bill was immediately alert and more than curious.

"Bill, that one's not your fight. It's somebody else's," I said. "Even with all the firepower on Earth, you wouldn't have enough to engage in that battle. What we have to do is concentrate on this particular Sirenali—at least I'm hoping it's only one—and take it out."

"Have you fought any of these before?" Opal's eyes narrowed in speculation.

"Yeah. Their obsession doesn't work on me, for some reason. The last one I killed was a piece of work. Nasty, too."

"Let's get back to the more immediate problem—Oscar Forde and the two human men we saw through Breanne," Bill said. "If we track any of them, perhaps we'll find the Sirenali at the end of that trail."

"I was hoping for that too. Bill, there's something else," I said.

"There's more? Breanne, I'll have to get my heart checked as it is," Bill placed a hand over his heart.

"Honey, you're not feeling bad, are you?" I was about to come out of my seat. I'd already had one close call when Kathleen Rome had a heart attack. I didn't need Bill to fall, too.

"No, sweetheart, sit back down," Bill motioned with a hand. "I'm fine, it's just that this is almost too much for we mere mortals."

"Well, here it is, then," I said. "I followed three men who took three women from Hank's club one night. One was Russian—Igor Karyavin was his name, and the other two were Americans. Brothers, too. Jack and Caleb Stafford."

"We've been tracking Karyavin for a while. I had no idea he was in the country," Bill said. "Do you know where he is now? Karyavin can cause more trouble than anybody might imagine."

"Dead," I said. "Along with the other two. They all bore an obsession, and they were going to kill those women. I stopped them and sent the women home."

"You killed them the same way you did the driver?" Opal asked. "Damn, I knew I liked you for a reason."

"Opal, it only sounds impressive," I sighed. "It's a necessity when I do it, because there isn't any other way to protect the innocent."

"Breanne, I realize it's a necessity," Bill said. "I'm just glad we have you here to explain this. If you weren't, we'd still be in D.C. and fumbling in the dark, thinking this was just another crazy serial killer that the locals should deal with."

"I've been sneaking around, doing my own investigation, but this is such a confusing mess," I said. "Hank doesn't want me out of his sight, and how can I explain any of this to him and Jayson, anyway? I haven't told him that he was almost in the same situation as Dale Saylor—having customers taken from his club and murdered. He still ended up in the spotlight when John was killed. Three dead women would have made things a whole lot worse."

"Breanne, I don't know what to say about this. You continually terrify me," Bill huffed. "It's not that I think you're helpless—far from it. I'm just afraid of losing you. I don't think my heart will take that much punishment again. Hank probably feels the same way—he doesn't want to lose you, either."

"Bill," my shoulders drooped. "I don't want to upset either of you, but who else do you have to track a Sirenali? Do you know how dangerous these obsessions really are? How many girls died because of it? How many have died in San Francisco, recently? All it takes is obsessing vampires, werewolves or anything else that's stronger than humans and things get bad in a hurry."

"This isn't good," Opal placed a hand on Bill's arm. "If this thing can order vampires around, we really don't have any defense against it. Bill, we don't have a choice except to put Bree in the middle of this."

"Breanne, I worry about your emotional health, not just your physical well-being," Bill shook his head. "I don't want you out there on your own, chasing these things down. You need somebody at your back. Opal will be here with you, if I can't be. I have meetings scheduled in D.C., but I can fly back and forth when necessary. Hank's ex-special ops, so he can help out whenever he's available. I have his records—Hank's a badass when he needs to be."

"I worry about you—I know you think you're protecting me, but really," I began.

"That's not up for debate," Hank settled in the seat beside me.

"Huh?" I stared at him. He was still dressed completely in leather—except for the shirt he wore under the vest.

"Breanne Hayworth, listen to me," Hank took my chin in his hands. "Bill and I love you. Opal loves you. Jayson, Kathleen and Trina love you. You're not going anywhere without somebody with you. I have a license to carry a gun. Jayson does, too. Opal can carry whatever the hell she feels like carrying, as can Bill. I don't want more of your disappearing for two years. That's bullshit."

"Hank," I attempted to pull away from him. He held onto my chin and leaned in to kiss me. Hard. "I just buried a friend," Hank murmured against my mouth before kissing me again. "That was hard enough. If we lose you, the world might fly apart."

He pulled back, his dark eyes locked on mine. "Understand me? You don't go anywhere alone. Somebody goes with you, and that somebody better be packing."

"Breanne, it's not just the ones you're hunting," Bill said.

"Huh?" I turned my gaze from Hank to Bill.

"You're getting death threats on those fucking websites," Opal jumped in. "All those Joyce Christian supporters. They've claimed the whole time you were gone that you were fictitious and a front for the plot to bring down Joyce's shiny reputation. Now that you've conveniently shown up and your face has been televised all over, threats against your life are being made on those conspiracy websites. We're trying to track them, but we have limited resources to put on it and frankly, those may just be the crackpots. Those who are serious are probably loaded up and actively hunting you, since they know where you were last seen."

"Are you kidding?" I stared at Bill in alarm.

"These people aren't known for patience and rational thinking," Hank turned my face toward him again. "They have weapons and they're crazy enough to use them."

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